#ann laughs at him. hes like a dog that figured out the Thing that makes their human happy and excited

[samarecharm]

Ryuji learns immediately that Akira is a little food goblin and in the worst way possible 😭 He eats literally anything, he doesnt attempt to ‘chef up’ anything he cooks. He draws the line at expired food but the food he makes for himself looks so fucking sad (ryujis words) that it might as well be garbage. And its not that Akira Wont cook or is averse to Learning how to cook, hes just. Busy. And he really doesnt balk at what most would consider bad tasting food. But ryuji does!!! He DOES balk!!!! He balks alot in fact! So while he knows he himself is not the Best cook in the world, he IS someone raised by his momma, and he will use everything she taught him to make food that Akira will ACTUALLY like and not just tolerate.

So he takes Akira food shopping in the market, picks out vegetables and spices and meats that Akira admits (embarrassed) he has never touched in his life. He tells Akira what to look for in markets, whats normally in season, what the appropriate prices are, what different cuts of meat are meant for, and Akira follows him like a toddler following their mother, looking at the displays listening intently. Hes a smart kid. Scary smart. And he picks and chooses whats worth investing into, whether Ryuji realizes it or not. So Akira listens and absorbs whatever Ryuji is telling him, bc Ryuji matters to him.

Ryuji has him on prep work duty. He shows Akira the easy way to chop and cube vegetables. Remembers halfway through that Akira is actually wicked scary with a blade; shows him a video of a professional cutting celery at lightning speed and is SO excited to see Akira replicate it near perfectly. Hes like a machine; chopping with such laser precision and Akira cannot help but feel a little bit warm when Ryuji openly compliments him

Ryuji is so loud and brash everywhere but the kitchen. Hes focused in a way Akira has never seen him be; listing off instructions and tips, carefully adding ingredients and measuring things by eye. While making the stew, he blanks on the amount of seasoning he should be adding, and before Akira can try to help him rubberduck, Ryuji video calls his mom. And Akira almost panics bc what if she was asleep? Or what if shes working??? But she picks up after two rings, wearing a nightgown and smiling huge and wide into the camera. Ryuji waves at her, and then moves the phone a bit to get Akira into frame. He does a very chill, not at all panicked and anxious wave and she smiles at him too.

Ryuji shows her the pot stewing and she comments on the coloring and texture of it. She pokes fun at him (‘oo did you go to a fancy market? Those beef cuts looks very nice’) to which ryuji waves her off, used to her teasing.

‘Have that young man try to season it; this is a team effort!’ And so Ryuji props the phone up so that she can see him and Akira by the stove top as she guides them. A sprinkle of this seasoning from top to bottom, yes perfect, and a pinch of that seasoning- ehh a little more than that- okay perfect, and add a ton of that seasoning in front of you- more. More. Ryuji I said a Ton, tell him i said a Ton- oh right he can hear me I SAID ADD A TON- okay thats it i think, if it comes out too salty, scoop some out and replace it with more stock or some water.

And from then on Ryuji just chats with his mom while Akira watches from his side of the counter; Ryuji mentions the nice lake that he wants to try fishing at, and some nice natural paths to run on in the mornings, and she tells him about her shift and the movie she saw the other day with some friends. Its very nice. It comes so easy to them; Akira cant remember the last time he got to hear his mom just chat about her life with him. Kinda hurts, but not really. Not when hes got Sojiro calling him, telling him about his day while Akira tinkers about at his desk. Its basically the same thing; even better when Akira thinks about it.

And then he thinks some more. And into the realization that Ryuji is here with him in his house cooking and relaxing and chatting with his mom. The tv is on in the livingroom buzzing at a volume thats barely audible. The setting sun is peaking through the curtains. His mom makes a snide comment about her coworker that makes Ryuji laugh a bit under his breath, and Akira is like. Painfully aware of how nice this feels. Warm and easy. It feels a bit silly to even say it but it feels domestic; it feels like home. And hes always been here, always lived here, but it didnt feel like Home as much as it did in this moment, with Ryuji idly chatting with his mom as he tended to the pot on the stove. He wants to capture this moment and keep it tucked away somewhere. And later on, when hes staring at the ceiling, head swimming as he tries to fall asleep, he’ll think ‘no. I dont want to just have this moment. I want more moments like this. I want to live in these moments again and again and again.’ Hes greedy like that, he thinks. He wants and wants and wants; wants so bad it makes his chest ache.

The stew comes out good. A bit salty, which Ryuji remedies by adding a bit more stock to the pot after theyve had their servings. Akiras face is a mix of childlike delight and contentment, eyes bright in that sweet and adorable way that has Ryujis face turning pink, suddenly a bit shy. Being complimented about his cooking is a different kind of nice hes not used to. Akira does a little happy bop with his head, the same bop he’ll do when he eats sweets with Ann.

“This is Really good-‘

“Oi! Please chew everything first before talking.”

Akira thinks its an act of love. In the same way art from Yusuke is an act of love, and the way Hangout Nights with Ann is an act of love; this is Ryujis. I want you to eat well. I want you to be well. Because I care about you. Ryuji cares so much. To come and stay with him. To cook with him, to live with him, even if for a moment. ‘My place…is right at your side.’ ‘Whaddya mean? Youre there.’ Like it keeps Akira up at night sometimes thinking of how much hes loved. It feels so foreign to him, yet natural all at once. Waking up to the rest of the breakfast Ryuji left for him after cooking. Ryuji listening to him ramble about some tech shit Akira knows only he truly cares about (Ryuji pays attention and tries to follow which is more than Akira can ask for). Like its a bit overwhelming but its nice. Its warm and loving and its nice.

Ryuji finds himself napping against Akiras taller frame on the couch, the movie they picked out failing to keep him entertained enough, and Akira thinks Ryuji feels the same way; its warm and loving and nice.

[adzeisval]

Muzzled

Hornigold has a request Ed might not be able to do. Also on AO3.

Ed wanted to murder Hall. After a few times of Izzy not coming up on deck until the afternoon Ed got it out of him that Hall had been insulting Izzy and even suggesting that Izzy end his own life. 

Ed spent several days making an effort to make sure that Izzy could hold on, that he could still help without harming himself and Izzy said he could. 

He couldn’t stand the thought of losing Izzy in his bid to take down Hornigold. 

They were on the way to yet another Cove Meeting and Ed hoped that he could get some information. 

Ed and Jack had come up with a plan, anyone that would be with Ed when he moved was to wear a mark. A visual cue to which ships he could trust and which he couldn’t. He hoped to get some further information as to what Hornigold was doing next so he could come up with some sort of attack or trap. 

A trap would be better if he could manage it, it would cost him less crew, and everyone else’s crew as well. 

It needed to get going because he was getting nervous and Izzy…Izzy was a tough bastard but Ed could tell that Hall was getting to him. 

Ed moored the Queen Anne and took a look around at Hornigold’s fleet. It wasn’t what it used to be. It would be better for them all to just go their own way. Hornigold was just holding on to the past. 

Hornigold called the Captains as usual and Ed tried very hard not to worry about Izzy being left alone with Hall. Hornigold had never looked so old and Ed felt that maybe, just maybe if he did things right he might be able to get rid of the old bastard. 

Ed looked around at the Captains; there were several wearing the mark, enough to make it work if he could figure out what it was. 

“Look at us,” Hornigold started and Ed looked at him, “Look at how few of us there are.” 

Even less soon enough, Ed thought.

“I have a lot to talk to you about today, but first things first, Teach, get up here.” 

Ed did so but didn’t like the look on Hornigold’s face. He wanted to run back ot the ship and fuck off and figure it all out later. But it was too late to run. 

Hornigold stood suddenly and Ed jumped a little. 

“Easy dog,” Hornigold said and Ed just knew the bastard was satisfied with making him jump. 

“Sir,” Ed managed. 

“I have a lot to say and talk about and though I need you to hear about it you will not speak, but I don’t trust you not to bark, dog,” Hornigold said. He brought out a metal contraption and Ed realized it was a sort of a muzzle.

Once again he wanted to run but he let Hornigold put the thing on his face and lock him in it. 

“Sit back down dog,” Hornigold ordered and Ed did just that. 

“Now, on to the Cove. We still have a bit of a problem. Not with the Navy and the spy but from within.” 

Fuck. Oh fuck.

“I think some of you think I’m getting too old to do this, that I need to be usurped,” Hornigold said, “You think the Navy is the only one with spies?” 

Ed knew he was being spied on and so he hoped that nothing came out of his ship but…maybe he shouldn’t have trusted Jack because the man was not subtle. 

“I am nowhere near done on this fucking earth and I will bring vengeance down upon anyone who wrongs me.”

“Can anyone here tell me why they think I’ve muzzled Blackbeard?” 

Ed didn’t look at anyone. He didn’t want to tip off Hornigold as to who was worth looking into. He couldn't speak of course but maybe that would end up being a good thing.

“Because he kept that traitorous dog?” someone said and a few laughed and Ed wanted to gut them for once again insulting Izzy.

“What does he do for you that no one else can Blackbeard,” another said. 

Hornigold started to laugh but then pulled out his two pistols and shot both men dead. The rest of the group fell silent and waited for Hornigold to speak. 

“Too easy for them to throw this muzzled mutt under the ship wasn’t it? They think they’re smarter than me. So eager to speak against him,” Hornigold said, “You think you know what you’re doing but you have no idea. Just remember that when the time comes.” 

Ed wasn’t sure if Hornigold knew anything or if he was just fishing for information. Everyone was silent still and Ed hoped that things were winding down and they’d get some orders and he could get back to the Queen Anne and be done with Hornigold for the day.

“Now there are two Navy ships that are being a royal pain in the ass and we’re going to teach them a lesson. I’m drawing them into Dead Man’s Cove and we’re going to trap and sink them,” Hornigold continued with a bit of planning and Ed was starting to get ideas, very good ideas that wouldn’t require too much planning. 

Hornigold finally wound down and dismissed the other Captains. Ed sat with the muzzle for a little while but finally unlocked the thing and threw it to the ground. 

“Thank you for your help, Teach,” Hornigold siad. 

“Of course Captain.” 

“You’re welcome sir,” Ed said. He hoped the next word out of Hornigold’s mouth was dismissed because he really wanted to get back to his ship.

“I have heard some rumors about your dog,” Hornigold said. 

Of course it wasn’t over. Fuck. 

“I may have misstepped when I allowed you to take your traitorous dog back on your ship,” Hornigold said. 

“Sir?” 

“Too much wiggle room and I don’t like it. Here’s the deal. I’ve sent a note to Hall on this as well.” 

Oh no. Oh please. Oh Izzy, surely he would see Hall coming and be able to get himself out alive. 

“You are to kill that bastard, if he’s not dead by sundown today Hall will come over and I’ll sink your ship with all hands and make an example of you. Do you understand Teach?” 

“I do sir,” Ed said. He knew a loyalty test when he heard one. 

“Good, remember sundown today. I expect a letter from Hall telling me the deed is done. I really do Teach,” Hornigold said. 

“Of course sir,” Ed said. 

He was amazed to be let out alive but he was shaking with what he was going to have to figure out. He wasn’t going to kill Izzy of course that was fucking stupid. 

Hall wasn’t going to be an easy one to fool though, but maybe, just maybe. 

He got back to the Queen Anne and had an hour and a half before he had to kill Izzy. He found Izzy with a bottle that hopefully wasn’t actually rum and Hall staring them both down.

“What the fuck is going on Eddie?” Izzy asked. 

“I have to kill you before sunset,” Ed said, “Iz…” 

“So it’s come to that then? Well go on, she’s watching,” Izzy said. 

Ed took a deep breath and then stabbed Izzy in the side.

[catboygirling]

you know what? big post. spoilers obviously

it was trying so, so hard to be funny that it became incredibly sad. like a standup comedian laughing at their own joke to fill the silence.

and when it wasn't doing that, it was SO BORING. every time it cut to an area 51 scene I felt a piece of my soul leaving my body. fun fact: this is the only movie I've ever gone to see more than once in theaters (thanks, @t0xic-planet) and I was trying really hard to not fall asleep the whole time. the movie was at 7pm so it wasn't like I was up past my bedtime or anything.

so many scenes just... didn't need to be there? why did Eddie rescue all those dogs? why did we need a flashback to Payne's brother getting struck by lightning?

okay enough of the tone stuff how about THE CONCEIT OF THE MOVIE DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. like, Eddie is a wanted criminal. if he was smart, he'd hitch a ride to Guam or something where no one will care to look for him, or maybe get an unassuming job in a farm in a nowhere town in Mexico, and then we could get some wacky shenanigans about Eddie and Venom trying to hide their identities from authorities and from the locals. that sounds like fun! but instead he specifically goes back to the US? to NEW YORK? a huge city? where Eddie CONFIRMS he used to live so people would probably recognize him? he's weirdly confident about the blackmail plan when there are way better options out there.

and the bit at the casino! firstly, Eddie could have walked two blocks down the street and found a casino that doesn't give a fuck about what you wear. casinos prey on desperate people. desperate people probably can't afford tuxedos. secondly, WHY THE DANCE? I love seeing Mrs. Chen back and everything, but why did Venom transform just for a dance number? why does EDDIE need to point out that it'll just bring the murder machine right to them when VENOM should definitely know that already?

actually, what's with the music in this movie? why did the hippie family sing an entire song? was it just for "haha Eddie is uncomfortable" and "haha Venom funny" because that's already about 50% of the movie (the other 50% being dull area 51 scenes).

WHY DID IT PLAY THAT MAROON 5 SONG AT THE END. WHY DID THEY MAKE AN AMV. THIS WAS AN ATTACK ON ME SPECIFICALLY IT'S ONE OF MY LEAST FAVORITE SONGS EVER AND THEY PLAYED THE WHOLE THING

ahem. one positive thing about this movie: I did like the designs of all the new symbiotes. I liked the Big Snake. it's really weird that they introduced a whole METEOR of symbiotes crashing to earth between movies (unless I'm forgetting something here) and also they all died instantly anyway, but. I did say one positive thing

okay, last one, and the cardinal sin of this whole movie: it is simply not gay enough. the other Venom movies were stupid and goofy (I'd argue to a more funny/charmingly bad degree than this one, but still), but we all know what makes them great. the weird almost-queerbait of it. in the first movie, we have the lines about Venom choosing to save earth because of Eddie, the kiss with Anne, probably other things I'm forgetting about... and Sony understood that appeal, which is why they made the infamous romcom trailer and really pushed the queer(bait) vibes in Let There Be Carnage. you have the "break up," the rave scene, "I am out of the Eddie closet!," Venom accidentally saying he loves Eddie...

in general, I think Eddie and Venom's relationship really regressed in this one. Let There Be Carnage REALLY amped up the "toxic relationship" vibes between them, so I figured everything would be peachy with them by now. but honestly, they seem even worse off than in the last movie. with the exception of some of the hippie family scenes and the very end, they are at each other's throats constantly!

I'm not totally delusional about this. I was not expecting a kiss, or a direct love confession beyond what we had in Let There Be Carnage. I know not to get my hopes up. but there was nothing in this movie, aside from the "you would make a good dad" comment and the very end of the movie. how can we cut THAT into a romcom trailer, huh?? imagine if instead of the stupid scene where Venom dances with Mrs. Chen and nearly gets them all killed for no reason, Venom fused with HER (after all, the xenophage only detects them when he's fused with Eddie), and forced Eddie to dance along with Venom-as-Chen? it would've covered up a major act of stupidity AND offered some "ooooo was that Venom or Chen that did that" ambiguity, like the kiss in the first movie.

uh anyway please stop making venom movies we have moved past the need for more venom movies

guys please stop posting about venom 3 it's not even good. this is coming from someone who ADORES the first two. not in the mood to make a big post about it but come on 😭

[erodasfishtacos]

Adjustments

When Y/N is getting tired of staying at home with the baby while Harry tours.

word count: 5k

contains: sexual content, language, a dash of angst

It was still early but Harry didn’t mind. When he was on tour he craved sleep like no other. To be in his bed, spooned around his love, and no alarm set.

However, the deep desire for sleep is just a faraway thought now because he’d rather be sleep deprived and wake up to his curly-haired baby any given day.

He looks to you. Mouth slightly open, face stress-free, and peaceful. Harry hated coming home from tour to see the bags of exhaustion under your eyes from taking care of the baby all by yourself.

He constantly had to swallow back guilt. He tried to do everything to make it up when he was home.

Harry didn’t find touring as exciting and fun as he use to. He sometimes counts down the tour dates until he’s home.

Sometime he can’t wait for the concert to wrap up so he can sneak in a quick FaceTime before you lot head off to bed.

Sasha was two, her birthday near days away, and Y/N had been running around like a mad-woman trying to make sure her party would be perfect.

Y\N sometimes held herself to the exceptions of other celebrities wives. Ballon arches, custom cookies, and beautiful decorations.

However, unlike other celebrities, you did this all yourself. No event planner, nobody except Anne and Gemma.

Harry wants you to sleep as much as possible and allow you the luxury he gets on tour. Sleeping in until noon sometimes in the empty, cold hotel room with nothing else to do.

He can hear Sasha babbling incessantly from her little bed. The little yellow railings preventing her from falling out or escaping.

Harry heaves himself off the bed, tugging on some sweatpants that had been thrown off hurriedly when you’d told him you’d been wet for him since he walked in the door last night.

“Hi, hi little love,” Harry murmurs as he opens the door to her bedroom. The yellow flowers hand-painted from the wall setting the theme for the room.

Sasha was a good baby and an ever better toddler. However, almost as a little teenager, she sure did have her mood swings. They weren’t quite out of the terrible twos stage yet.

She wanted her mom as she stood there.

“No, mummy,” Sasha whines, tugging on Harry’s cross necklace with force after he scooped her up.

“Hey, we don’t do that. Remember we treat people with kindness.”

After a promise of chocolate chips in her pancakes, she agrees to help Harry cook you breakfast. 

It was messy and his bare chest was covered in flour. Not quite sure how the little girl had gotten it into her curls but they were managing.

Harry loved watching Sasha play with the cooking utensil. Smacking whisk around, looking quizzically at a spatula. 

It made Harry want to buy her a little play kitchen. He was surprised they didn’t already have one. He thinks they might have on in their New York City apartment that they haven’t traveled to recently.

He makes a point while Sasha is chewing at the pancakes to search to find one. He finds a same-day pickup at a local toy store and orders it.

That’s one thing he loved about making so much money. He could spoil you and the baby, his family with everything and anything they want or need.

Y/N always struggled with accepting gifts from Harry but as they years went on and they got married and combined bank accounts. (well she brought a hefty three thousand to the marriage, he graciously gave her full-access to his money). 

A few weeks after your wedding, when you went to an ATM to get twenty pounds out for a cash-only restaurant and when the receipt said you two had six-hundred thousand and some change in just one of your CHECKING account - well you nearly almost fainted.

You had been worried about the three pound service fee before seeing that.

Harry could sometimes get ahead of himself. He’s had disposable money since he was sixteen. Y/N would sometimes hum, asking if he really needs a fifteen-thousand dollar wool Gucci coat.

Y/N would make it a point that she doesn’t want Sasha to grow to be materialistic and spoiled. So Harry was scolded every once in a while when he gave into Sasha’s puppy dog eyes.

Maybe not the best decision but he planned to set it up when you were out for lunch this afternoon with a friend. Hopefully, you wouldn’t notice? If he strategically put it in the playroom.

“Mmm, what’s all this?” You murmur, tying your silk robe at the front. Just enough cleavage showing that Harry feels a twitch in his joggers. Sue him, basically everything his wife did turned him on.

“Pancakes, mummy!” Sasha giggles, syrup coating her cheeks and fingers. “Kissy?” Her dad had taught her that.

“Yes baby,” you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to her soft curls, avoiding her sticky mess. 

“Kissy?” 

You look up to your pouting husband with identical absurdly wild curls from bed. 

“Spoiled, you lot,” you tell him before padding over to him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Forever the horny teenager, his large hands finds your bum and pull you closer - deepening the kiss.

“Miss you s’much on tour, all I think about,” he whispers into your mouth. “Your tits, your cun-“

“Harry!” You laugh, smacking at his chest, “Can’t talk like that in front of the baby!”

“She didn’t hear,” he grumbles, giving your arse one last squeeze, “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” you agree back, ignoring the pinch of arousal. 

—-

Sasha was putting up a fight when she realized that you were leaving without her. Grabbing at your leg as you tugged on a Gucci sneaker.

“I’ll be back soon, Sash,” you assure her but to no avail.

Her cheeks ruddy red and splotched. Tears staining them as she wails dramatically at the top of her little lungs. 

“I don’t know if I should go,” You sigh as Harry wrestles her tiny body off of you so you don’t trip.

“No baby, you need a break. She can’t hold you hostage,” Harry laughs as Sasha wriggles a little in his arms.

“Call me if you need me to come home.”

“I’ll be fine, now go, have a mimosa for me,” Harry smiles down at his daughter who is staring at you like you’ve just killed her beloved pet.

You can’t help but giggle at the glare, “so scary, missy. I’ll see you soon, I love you.”

Sasha buries her nose into Harry’s neck. Her sobs more sad than angry at this point. Which makes your heartbreak a little.

—-

Sasha was getting impatient with her father. As he attempted to figure out how to screw on the oven door to the overcomplicated design.

She occasionally ran off with a piece he needed so it took much longer than he’d thought. But this thing was sophisticated, you pour water into a little tub and it runs through the faucet like a real sink.

Sasha gave her father a wide smile when he had finally told her it was all done. He helped fill the little shopping cart with plastic fruit and veggies.

She was babbling to herself happily, occasionally making sure her dad was still in the room with her.

Harry had grabbed his journal off the kitchen table and was scribbling down mismatched lyrics about how much love he was filled with.

His last two albums were nearly just songs about you. The next one was definitely going to include tracks about his baby.

When he hears the alarm sound and get shut off, he knows your home and he feels a little twinge of anxiety in his stomach.

Distraction? That should work right?

“Hi baby,” Harry greets, planting a kiss on your lips before squatting to untie your sneakers for you.

“Well hello there!” You look around surprised to not see your daughter toddling to you as well. “Is bug sleeping?”

Harry shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, “Um, no. Just playing in the playroom right now.”

“Was she good?” You asks, noticing he’s changed clothes. He loved to laze around in joggers if he could. “Did you go out?”

“Just for coffee,” he covers, technically - he did grab a coffee for himself at a drive-thru. “How was lunch?”

“Good, mimosas were shit so I only had one. Missed you guys too much. So glad your home,” you sigh into his chest, basking in his tight arms around you.

“Only 73 more concerts to go,” Harry replies.

He can feel your shoulders tense at his lame attempt of a joke. It wasn’t funny to you, not in the slightest. 

“Just 73, huh?” You shoot back, untangling yourself from his grip. “Just another eight months away from your wife and baby.”

“Love...” Harry begins, swallowing hard. He was just as emotional as you when it came to it. 

You shake your head, swiping at the stray tear, “Just forget it,” you huff before trekking off to see your daughter.

Harry is cautiously trailing behind you with a bowling ball of nerves in his belly. 

When you walk into the playroom and see the new kitchen set - you stand nearly frozen in the doorway.

“Mummy! Mumma look at what daddy got me!” She chirps, standing to come to you. You easily lift her up and accept the plastic apple she hands to you proudly. 

You feel a tightness in your throat, “it’s so nice, baby.”

“Nice,” she repeats, “come play, mumma.”

“I just got home, give me a few minutes and I’ll be back in,” you promise with a kiss before placing her back down.

She seems satisfied with your answer and scurries back to where she had placed her babydoll on the countertop - feeding it.

“Can we please talk in the kitchen?” You asks, trying your best to keep your voice level in front of your daughter.

Harry dejectedly nods and follows you into the kitchen, dragging his boot-clad feet a little. 

“Look, I know your mad, lovie. But I just got the idea and didn’t think too much about it. Know y’don’t want to spoil her but-“

“Do you not listen?” You ask harshly.

He looks at you dumbfounded. Unsure of the question. It sounded like it was a trick question.

“You’re unbelievable!” You whisper-shout so Sasha doesn’t hear.

Harry feels himself getting defensive, “You’re tha’ mad about a bloody toy?  I’m her father allowed to buy her things too!”

“No, Harry. It’s not about that. It seems like your so busy with your job that you just tune me out on our calls.”

Harry’s brow furrows. That wasn’t true in the slightest. It was the highlight of his day to hear your voice and how it went at home.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Harry snaps, his voice a little louder. 

“Go into the storage room off the side of the garage.”

He gives you a confused look but obliges, after trailing through your maze of a house. He reaches the large extra room.

When he opens the door, his heart sinks. He immediately knows why you’re so upset with him.

A beautiful, hand-painted kitchen set is sat with a large pink bow in the room. The hutch saying in cursive, “Sasha’s Kitchen.”

It was her favorite colors - blue and yellow- with painted images of all her favorite characters like Peppa Pig and Blue from Blue’s Clues.

He remembers how excited you were on the phone that night - when you revealed her third birthday present and how perfect the artist had made it.

Harry had been listening -truthfully- but he was also nearly asleep after two encores of Kiwi onstage and a meet and greet backstage.

He felt like shit now. Disappointed in himself for ruining this surprise he knows you were looking forward to giving her in a mere few days.

But the excitement of another kitchen set surely would be lackluster now. 

“Baby, m’so sorry,” Harry says quietly, with guilt bubbling in his throat. “I was listening. I just...I forgot.”

“Nothing we can do about it now it,” you bite out. Disappointed at the ruin surprised making you prickle with anger towards your forgetful husband.

Harry begins to apologize once again but you don’t let him, “I need to put her down for a nap.”

— 

You drift off as well in your bed- taking advantage of Sasha being asleep in the next room over.

Harry doesn’t quite know how to fix this situation. He’s much too embarrassed to call his mum or sister who would just give him another earful.

He felt like being on tour has been mucking everything up. He loved his job, most days. But days like today - he wishes to never see a recording studio or microphone again.

Harry’s pondering all this when he hears a cry from the baby’s room. 

Sasha is stood, bleary-eyes with a sad frown as her father enters. 

“Sweet pea, what’s the sad face for?” He hums as he tucks her into the curve of his slim hip. Bringing her down onto the main level so you aren’t awoken.

“Daddy, kitchen?” She sniffles, pointing towards her playroom.

He shakes his head. Deciding the least he can do is bathe her so you wouldn’t need to later. She still had remnants of fruit pouch in her cheeks.

“No, darling. S’bath time. Then you can play,” he boots her nose. Snatching some clean baby clothes from where they’re folded and waited to be put away on the coffee table.

“No no no,” she whimpers angrily, shaking her head and smacking her arm against her father’s tattooed chest.

“Sasha Anne, no hitting, absolutely not,” Harry uses his firm father’s voice that he didn’t have to pull out very often.

“No bath, daddy, no!” She wails with all the dramatics of an A-List actor. 

“Hey, mumma’s sleeping. We cannot yell,” her father hushes her as he trails into the bathroom.

“Mean daddy!” She exclaims as he wrestles her into the tub. Splashing the water and wriggling away everytime he tries to cup water over her head to rid her of the shampoo.

“I know, I know, so mean,” he acknowledges sympathetically. A headache arising in the front of his skull from his baby’s high pitch noises and shouts.

After another fight into clothes, she’s still not happy when she’s sat in front of her kitchen. She throws the plastic toys around and whining anytime Harry moves an inch.

He’s feeling a little overwhelmed if he’s honest. With his worry about your precious argument and the unusual tactics of your toddler - he was stressed out. 

“Binky,” Sasha looks expectantly at her father.

Oh, good idea. She loves that.

Harry can’t find any lying around like usual so he digs through the drawers around the living room until he finds one.

After cleaning it off, he hands it to her and she pops it in her mouth happily. Her attention now direction back towards her new toy.

He let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t quite sure how you did this alone so much of the time.

—

 When you finally wake from a fitful nap, you hear noise from the playroom. You’re still extremely frustrated with your husband but it’s less intense. Until...

Until you walk in and Sasha turns around, smiling around a binky you surely thought you’d thrown away.

Sasha was getting too old for a pacifier - even though she was just using it when she was really upset or at night.

You’d been binky-free for three weeks. And all the crying and tears from your daughter where now meaningless.

“Where did she get that pacifier?” You grit out.

You had told him multiple times you were weaning her off of it.

“She was fussy. I gave it to her, tha’ alright?” He asks cluelessly.

“Harry! I’ve told you so so many times that I’d been weaning her off of it. She just stopped crying about it a week ago!”

“I told you about this - just like the kitchen. God, you get so goddamn wrapped up in your career that you forget important things like this!”

“Baby...” Harry whimpers, hands up in surrender. “I keep, I keep messing up. I’m - I don’t know where my mind is.”

“I’ll tell you were your mind is, Harry. In the countries your traveling to, the concerts your performing at. You promised me...you fucking promised when we started trying for a baby this stuff wouldn’t happen!!”

Harry’s face crumples, “yo-you’re my everything, lovie. You and bug. None of this means anything without you. I’ll quit music, never write another lyric or sing another note if that’s what you want from me.”

He meant that fully heartedly too.

When he wrote If I Could Fly and write the lyrics, “I’ll give up everything, just ask me to.”

The fans, the producers, you - don’t truly know how much he was being truthful in the lyrics.

“I would never ask you to do that. I want you to do what you love but I want you to follow through for your family!”

At your raised tons, Sasha begins to whine, looking with wide, concerned eyes.

“Mummy?”

With that, you scoop her up. “M’going to your mums. I’ll be back later.”

Harry watches anxiously as you pack Sasha’s bag. He feels useless as he hands your her fruit pouches and crackers from the pantry.

As you snatch the car keys from the entry tables, Harry asks in a near whisper, “What’s going on? I’m so lost.”

“I’m lost too. I jus-just can’t keep doing this. It’s too hard for you to be away from us like this. I feel like a single mom sometimes.”

With that, you’re out the door and on your way to your mother-in-laws. 

For the first time ever, Harry had a fleeting thought that you’re going to divorce him. He knows it’s not just about the toy and the pacifier.

He hasn’t been home enough. As much as he tries, the FaceTimes don’t make the distance and time apart any easier. 

You have all the responsibility of this little human and your heart twinges on days you’re missing you husband and you constantly at met with his little replica.

Harry feels like he’s going to have a panic attack. He’s only had a handful in his lifetime but this one was intense.

He grabs his phone and dials the number to his best friend. He really needed a shoulder to cry on right now.

“Hey mate! What’s good, big boy?” The Irish man belts into the phone only to be met with sniffles and tears.

“Niall, I don’t know what to do.”

—

Anne was expecting you. She had set up tea with little cake in the back garden. Sasha was excited to chase the cats around the greenery. Her cute jumpsuit sodden with dirt and grass stains in no time.

“I’m sick of being at home alone all the time with Sasha. I miss Harry too much, she misses him too much,” you croak, attempting to keep your tears at bay.

“I want Harry to continue his career and live his dream. Most people never get the chance he’s gotten. I-I just need him.”

“Oh honey,” she rubs my hand soothingly, “I can only imagine. I know I missed him fiercely to the point it was unbearable when he was sixteen. I still miss him too.”

“I...I’m going to sound like such a bad mother,” you take a deep breathe, “would I be a bad mum if Sash and I joined Harry on tour?”

“Do you think that’d make you a bad mum?” Anne asks softly, a small smile on her face.

“No, I don’t think. I’d be happier because I’d be with Harry and we could actually be a married couple 24/7. She would get to see her dad everyday.”

“I think you’ve found you answer,” Anne chuckles, pouring more hot water into your cups.

“It will be so stressful.”

“More stressful than it is now?” Anne replies.

“Nothing can be more stressful than right now.”

- -

The talk witdh Niall helped only a little bit but enough to not feel like he’s going to vomit every other minute.

He was worried you were going to come in here and ask him for a divorce because he couldn’t follow through on his promises as a husband and a father.

Harry was ready to do whatever it took to prevent that from happening. He’s not above groveling and begging for you to stay.

It is dark when you pull in, toting in a sleeping child in your arms that you pass off to Harry who’s waiting at the front door.

He tucks his baby into her bed, tugging the blankets over her, and staring down at her sweet, cherub face for a little longer than usual before heading into your master.

You’re sat on the corner of the bed, biting your lip, and playing with you flashy large diamond ring as a force of habit.

“Baby...” Harry rasps, not touching you but kneeling down in front of you. 

“I can’t do what we’re doing anymore,” you begin, completely unaware that Harry thinks you’re about to ask for a divorce.

“I don’t think you’re going to agree with what I have to say, but I think it’s the best,” you swallow harshly, hoping he doesn’t shoot down the proposition.

“Please, I’ll do anything, lovie. Don’t leave me, don’t divorce me. I’ll do anything’ you want, sweetheart. Please, I need you. I’m so inlove with you.”

Harry is full on sobbing by this point, hanging his head against your knees as he attempts to catch his breath but finding it hard.

“Harry!” You murmur in confusion “baby, look at me, please?”

It takes him a moment to meet your eyes, your face is soft but wrinkled in concern. 

“What are you talking about? Divorce?” You choke out the words. Never in a million years would you willingly agree to part from your husband.

“I know I’ve been fuckin’ up. I can’t bloody figure out how to balance shit. I’ve not followed through and neglected you n’ the baby. I’m a bad husband and a bad dad.”

“Hey,” you said with force, bringing your hand under his chin so he has to keep eye contact. “Do not ever say something like that again. You are the best husband and father. You provide for us. You love us more than I’ve thought possible. You’re perfect for Sasha and I.”

“You said you couldn’t do this anymore,” Harry chokes out, letting his ringed hands rest on the tops of your thighs. His diamond wedding rand flashing in the light.

“Oh, H. I’m sorry - I didn’t mean with you.” You chuckle lightly, “how could you ever possibly think I’d leave you, pet?”

He shakes his head, “it’s because y’too good for me. Don’t deserve you.”

“Hush,” you hums, running a hand through his curls. “I know how to fix this.”

“How? I’ll do anything f’you,” Harry would agree to jump off The Empire State Building for you without a second thought.

“The baba and I are going to join you on tour. I know we agreed it’s be too much but I can’t imagine it can be any harder than this.”

Harry’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.

“That’s if you’ll have us,” you whisper coyly, excited by his reaction.

“Yeah, baby. It means I get to fuck you every night,” Harry growls pushing you back and up into the bed before crawling on top of you.

“A teenage boy, I swear,” you giggle, flushed just thinking about how much more time you’ll have together. 

“S’it so bad I want t’fuck my wife? That I’m so bloody gone for you that I’d do anything f’you?” He presses against your lips before demanding entrance.

“You can have me in your bed every night,” you agree, letting his tongue twist with yours with fever and urgency. 

“Mmm, only groupie I’ll ever need.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, allowing him to slip your shirt over your head and attach his lips to your collarbone.

“Can’t wait to fuck you in every country - like we did when you toured with me before the bab.”

When he tosses your bra across the room, you gasp at his mouth finding your nipple instantly. Nipping and suckling at the sensitive nerves with intent.

His hand doesn’t waste anytime, skillfully unbuttoning your jeans and zip with one hand before cramming his large palm inside to cup you in his hand.

“Only pussy I want, fuckin’ made for me,” he groans at the warm wetness he feel through the thin underwear. The tips of his fingers stroke over your clit with confident movements.

“Stop teasing!” You whine, wriggling out of your jeans and panties in one go. Harry is still completely dressed above you - which shouldn’t be sexy but it is.

“Don’t know how I thought you’d ever leave me. Y’fucking obsessed with my cock,” he laughs - sure of himself now.

“If you don’t touch me, I swear-“

“I’ve got you lovie, best wife ever, y’know? Just wanna please you,” he promises the damp skin on your neck, landing nips and bites that will surely leave a mark. 

“Then please me,” you demand, your tone a higher pitch than usual for your arousal.

You’re rolling your hips upwards to meet his jean-clad center. The friction feels delicious against your sensitive nerves.

Harry takes hold of your hip with one hand to halt your grinding, his other hand finding your heat and without hesitation - slides two thick fingers into you.

“H, yeah,” y/n moans, rolling her hips down to meet his hand. Her arousal coating his knuckles and he can’t describe how sexy that is.

He curls his fingers towards the top of you tight wall, finding the little spongey spot that has you bucking your hips and whimpering.

“Oh, did I find the spot, love?” Harry teases like he doesn’t know. He’s been an expert in pleasuring you for the past eight years. 

“Yes baby, m’gonna come,” you nearly slur with pleasure. The cold metal of his rings brushing against your heated folds in relief.

“Only gonna let you come - if you promise me you’ll come again f’me.”

“I will, H. I wil-“

“Ssh, s’okay. Give it to me, my love,” Harry croons sweetly, leaning to suck a nipple as he speeds up his minstrations. 

Your chest is rising and falling at a fast pace, your hips meeting his curled fingers on every thrust as he pushes you over the edge, “fu-fuck,” you moan, trying your best to keep your voice down.

“Tha’s it. M’wife looks so fuckin’ gorgeous when she’s coming on my fingers. Need you on my cock,” Harry grunts, removing his fingers and working to get his clothes off as fast as possible.

He’s positioning himself at your entrance with intent, wasting no time pushing in. No matter how many times you took him - it was always a stretch but it was immensely pleasurable.

“Love you, love our family. Can’t wait f’you two to join me on tour,” Harry pants, attempting to keep his thrust slow and meaningful but he was so turned on he was already becoming sloppy.

“S’going to be so nice. Spend everyday with my husband,” you hum, wrapping your legs around his waist and resting your feet on his bum. You can feel the muscle flexing from his thrusts.

“Yeah, never get tired of hearin’ that word.”

“Husband?” You giggle, “we’ve been married for five years.”

“Still can’t believe you agreed to,” Harry murmurs, his lips pressed against your temple as he becomes more determined. His thumb finding your clit and giving it hard, tight rubs.

Harry could have anyone he wanted. Millions of people lusted after him. It was hard to believe sometimes that he only wanted you. But in moments like this, you never questioned it.

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell him, biting his full bottom lip.

He growls, “hush up. Let me fuck you, yeah?” 

With that, the only thing that leaves your mouth is whines and gasps as he hits your spot on every fluid thrust with a determined thumb on your nerves.

“Cl-close,” Y/N shutters, legs quivering with sensitivity and arousal.

“Baby, baby wait f’me, m’close,” he begs against your skin, licking and kissing wherever he can reach. He speeds up his movements and you fell him tensing up, his mouth dripping open in an o shape and his eyes squeezing shut - his telltale sign.

You allow yourself to let go at that point and ride out the waves of intense climax with him as he weakly thrust a few more times until he lays his weight on top of you.

“The bubby is going to love South America,” Harry smiles into your mouth. His large palms massaging at your shaky, wet thighs.

“I think she’s going to love being with her daddy more,” Y/N replies, a hand coming to cup his jaw in a slow, languid twist. 

—

Thanks so much for checking it out :) PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS!

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART FOURTEEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: mentions of sexual content, feelings, cigarettes Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: HI EVERYONE! I’m sorry I’m so inconsistent lately. I promise that the next chaptered fic I write, I’ll only start posting it when I’m done writing it. I hope you like this chapter - its incredibly sappy because I’m on my period lol

As always, big thanks to my beta, @lantern-inthenight​ <3

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack​  @dharma-divine​

MASTERPOST

“Remind me again why you want to ride separately from your brother?” You looked pointedly over at Josh, who was smiling as he ran a soapy rag over the plate you’d just finished eating off of. 

“I already have to spend my whole winter break with my family, no need to rob myself of alone time with you,” he explained like it was obvious. 

A huff escaped your lips. You pushed away from where you had been leaning against the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. You laid your head in between his shoulder blades, feeling him turn to nuzzle his nose against your arm as it laid on his shoulder.  

“We spend so much time together - like every day - which I’m obviously grateful for,” you said, half-muffled by the material of his sweater. “But don’t you think it just makes more sense to carpool?” 

You couldn’t see his hands, but the movements you could feel told you he was wiping the extra water off of them before turning around and pressing your chests together. His lips lightly brushed your temple as he spoke. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, though you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t about to just relent. “It does make more sense - I just don’t want to.”

You let out a breath, frowning as you tried to figure out if you should say what you were thinking. After a moment of working up the courage, you cupped his jaw with your right hand, knowing full well that the sweet gesture would help him swallow the discomfort your words would cause. 

“Josh,” Your voice was low and quiet, but as you met his eyes, you chickened out. They were so honest, looking at you like your presence was the only thing keeping him grounded - like if you left, he’d just cease to exist. You made a mental note to have a talk with him about that at some point, but you decided it would have to be after you’d returned from Christmas break. 

“Hm?” You must have been contemplating too long, prompting his features into a look of concern. You couldn’t bear it. 

“Jake is going to ride with us,” you said decidedly. “I already told him he could.”

That was a bit of a lie - he had mentioned it a few days ago and you had said you’d run it by Josh, but you had just made up his mind for him.

He huffed a laugh as he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “Sounds like you’re already communicating better with my family than I have in months.”

“Well,” you started, giving him a pointed look - the kind you only give when you feel confident that you’re right. “I think that would mean communicating with them at all. Honestly, Josh, I know you-”

You were abruptly silenced as he placed his forefinger across your open lips, a half-smirk on his face. 

“It’s okay,” he assured simply. “He can ride with us.”

A smile spread across your face underneath his finger. “Good. Have you started packing?” Your words were muffled under his touch.

“Eh,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug, lowering his hand to brush his thumb across your chin. 

“Do you want help with that?” you inquired cheekily. “Because, you know, we leave in two days.” 

He appeared to consider it for a moment before nodding. “Actually, yeah, that sounds nice. You can sit on my bed and watch while I pack really inappropriate clothes for the occasion.”

You half-snorted out a laugh, rolling your eyes because you knew that’s the reaction he was aiming for. “How about I just pack for you?”

+++

For the first time since knowing him, you saw Jake Kiszka wearing a jacket. It was long and dramatic and nearly brushed the top of the snow as he made his way out to your car with a leather duffle bag in his left hand.

He opened the rear, passenger-side door and tossed his bag in next to yours and Josh’s before sliding in next to it. 

You greeted him cheerily, to which he shot you back a smile as a reply.

“You’re actually wearing a coat,” you noted as he pulled the seatbelt over his form and buckled in.

He hummed amusedly, reaching into his pocket and popping a stick of gum in his mouth. 

“I’ve found that he doesn’t usually dress like a slut to go home,” Josh replied instead as he turned a lighter around in his palm, absent of the task. 

“And if I didn’t wear a coat home, I’d never hear the end of it.” 

Josh nodded in agreement, and then you watched a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. “I’m kinda surprised Kate isn’t coming with us today, to be honest. Are you waiting until Easter just to make sure?”

You were busy pulling out onto the road, so you didn’t see it, but you could imagine Jake deeply rolling his eyes at the question. 

“I would bring Kate home - it would make me truly happy to physically see Mom die a little inside when she starts trying to talk about amphibious breeding cycles at length during dinner,” he mused, voice clear of any kind of sorrow. He finished simply and with a smile, “But she isn’t my girlfriend.”

“I don’t know, it seemed a little sus when I showed up at her house in the morning and you were already there, chillin’ with her dog,” you replied in a sing-song voice. 

“I wasn’t already there, I was still there.” You felt him place a hand on your shoulder, and slap his other one against Josh’s. “Not all of us have the luxury of just being able to pop down the hall.”

“Fair enough,” you relented, feeling your face flush warm. 

“Or the shower. Or the kitchen that one time,” Josh added unhelpfully, making your eyes immediately pop open. 

“Josh,” you scolded and quickly considered reaching over and slapping him, but decided it was unsafe to drive and strike a passenger at the same time. 

“No, this is good,” Jake assured through a smirk you could hear. “Let him get it all out before we get there.”

Josh snickered back, “You’re such a prick.”

+++

The Kiszka homestead was almost impossibly cozy. There was a basket of blankets by the big sofa (much nicer and fluffier than the blankets at your apartment, which had been flattened and matted to the point of complete defeat) and the furniture was centered around a glowing, stone fireplace. Josh’s mom had hugged him for a long moment upon your arrival - a gesture that made your throat feel tight as you watched her fingers flex in the material at the back of his shirt. 

She was sunny and kind to the point that you could clearly see Josh’s mannerisms reflected in hers, and the dinner she laid out on the dining room table seemed impossibly large to you, having come from a home with just three people in it. 

When she asked you how you liked Midwestern cooking, you gushed about it for - what was undeniably - too long. You’d never say, but you weren’t positive that part of it wasn’t just not having had a real home-cooked meal in months. 

You had come to decipher that Josh had told his family that you were just a roommate that didn’t have a place to go for winter break, but you were pretty sure you’d be able to tell the nature of your relationship if you were on the outside looking in - you seemed to be magnetically drawn to wherever Josh was these days. 

Everyone cleared out of the living room pretty quickly after dinner and conversation, and you finally got the chance to ask the question that had been on your mind all day. 

“Do I sleep out here?” 

You were posted up on the couch, your legs crossed one over the other with Josh staying a few inches farther away from you than you were used to.

“No,” he replied. “You can take my room and I’ll sleep out here.”

You had asked mostly as a formality - you hadn’t figured that you’d actually have to sleep separately. Through a slight frown, you said, “Oh, man. It’s been a while since I’ve had to sleep alone. What if I freeze to death?” 

He flashed you a smile. “I thought ahead and laid a heated blanket out on the bed for you.”

“Heated blanket? This whole time heated blankets were an option?” you whispered harshly.

“Okay, in my defense, by the time I remembered that they existed, we were already sleeping in the same bed every night.”

The suspicious way you stared at him for a few moments had him biting back a laugh - one of those unguarded ones that seemed to be reserved for people he was really comfortable around. Which seemed to just be you most of the time. 

“Will you at least come get ready for bed with me?” you asked, subtly looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Of course - no puppy eyes necessary,” he assured with a snicker.

This room was decidedly different than the one back in Ann Arbor. Josh’s space back in the apartment was mostly made up of Earth tones - either picked by choice or having just dulled over time. There were little pops of color scattered around the room, like the golden yellow rug that spread across almost all of the wooden floor, or the string of flags that spanned the entire wall above his bed. 

This room was different. You could tell that his parents had tried to clean it up since Josh had moved out, but there was still evidence of spots where posters were hung on the maroon red walls. A stack of comics laid on the dresser - the surface of which was covered in residue and paper where he had placed stickers and then tried to peel them off. 

You eyed a well-used keyboard placed along the far wall, and what appeared to be milk crates full of sheet music and the idea of him sitting in front of it and practicing for hours brought a smile to your lips. 

He hauled both of your bags up onto the bed and you both picked through them for the sleep apparel you’d packed. You watched him change into a short-sleeved tee and a pair of loose flannel pants through the bathroom mirror as you brushed your teeth across the hall, and when he caught your eyes, he gave you a smirk. 

You’d been half expecting him to change his mind and just crawl into bed with you, but instead, he helped you clamber under the covers and pulled the comforter up to your chest. 

“Wow, full service tuck-in and everything,” you teased, but quickly shut up when his thumb brushed over your lips. 

“Well,” he mused, voice low. “Not the full service.”

You gave him a sour grin as he backed up to the door and flicked the light off. 

“Good night, Joshua.”

+++

The next couple of days came and went easily. You were starting to get actually acquainted with his family - chatting with his mother and sister over morning coffee, and getting pinned between his brothers on the sofa while Christmas movies played in the background.

You really hadn’t realized how much you missed being around family until it hit you at dinner one night. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Josh unscrewed the lid on the salt under the lip of the table and then asked Sam if he wanted any. 

Josh was just about to slide it across the beat-up wooden surface when you snatched it out of his hand, pointedly tightened the lid, and then slid it over. 

When you peeked over at him, Josh was glaring at you, but he wasn’t able to stop the mischievous smirk that his mouth took the shape of. 

Sam huffed a laugh that sounded more like a scoff, having figured out the plot quickly after seeing the look on Josh’s face.  

“Samuel, do me a favor and dump the whole shaker of salt on your potatoes,” Josh requested in a faux-sweet voice. “Please and thank you.” 

“Piss off.” Sam’s reply came through a mouth-full of food, but somehow, he still managed to look lovely while saying it. However, that didn’t save him from his mom’s scolding look - though whether that was in response to the harsh language or speaking with a full mouth was anyone’s guess. You guessed that a person never got to grow out of being “the baby”. 

It was then - that simple moment - that you realized how oddly welcomed you felt in this setting. It hadn’t been awkward or uncomfortable even once. You’d never felt out of place despite how different it was from your own home experience. 

After you were settled into bed that night, you laid awake thinking about nothing and everything. You didn’t feel particularly tired, but you had decided to turn in when Josh started dozing off on the couch while you were watching the tv on low volume. 

You had no clue what time it was, as your phone was charging across the room, but at some point you heard the distinct sound of a door creaking open. It was just down the hall - that you could distinguish -  but you weren’t positive which room specifically. The person made their way down the hall, and then up a creaky set of steps, though you could tell that they were trying to move quietly when they got to the next floor and the cadence of their steps changed to something lighter. 

You thought about it for a moment before pushing the covers off of you, crawling out of the warmth of the nest you’d made, and slipping your feet into a pair of Josh’s fuzzy slippers that were just barely peeking out under the bed frame. Trying to be as quiet as the last person had been, you crept up the stairs in the low light, having to strain to see the steps in the unfamiliar space, lest you lose your footing. 

The room at the top of the steps was a study, and on the other side of it was a large, sliding glass door. And on the other side of that, was Jake, sat out on a covered patio with a cigarette in his hand. 

You crossed the room, grabbing a blanket off of the worn leather sofa and wrapping it around yourself as you moved. 

He barely turned his head to look at you as you slid the glass open and stepped out onto the porch. The brisk air hit you hard enough to nearly knock the breath from your lungs, so you pulled the blanket up your body until only your head was showing. 

“Sorry if I scared you.” The volume of your words were just above a whisper as you bent to sit next to him on the cold wood. “Or if I’m intruding.”

He hummed around his cigarette before ashing it into a Coke can. “You didn’t, and you aren’t.” He looked you over for the first time then and frowned deeply at you. “You are going to freeze to death though. Where the hell is your coat?”

“I’m fine, I’ve got the blanket, see?” you assured, though you had to admit that the cold cut right through the thick material. 

He ran his eyes up and down it, rolling them affectionately at you. “Okay,” he replied, though it sounded nothing like he believed you. After a few silent moments, he spoke again. 

“How are you liking it here?”

A genuine smile spread out over your lips. “Michigan is lovely, if that’s what you mean. Cold to the point where I’m not sure why anyone would want to live here, but. Lovely, all the same.” 

He smiled back at you, oddly warm in nature for him. “And what about the family? Do you find all of us lovely too?” 

“Absolutely,” you agreed, pulling your knees up to your chest like you were in a cocoon. Another few long moments ticked by as you watched the snow fall. The night was so still that you swore you could hear the flakes as they settled on whatever surface they happened to land on. 

“Can I ask you something?” You flicked your eyes over at him to assess his expression. You knew your brows were threaded close together in worry, which he seemed to take into account before he answered.

He nodded as he took another drag. “Sure,” he replied, smoke and steam glowing with the light of the cherry on the end of his cigarette as he exhaled. 

You were silently trying to figure out how to word it for long enough that he looked over at you expectantly. 

“Do you think Josh would have come home for Christmas if I...weren’t around?” 

He met your eyes and huffed a humorless laugh. “I think that he would have spent a week or two anxiously deciding whether he could handle it and then, ultimately, he would feel too guilty to say no. And from there, I think it would have been a repeat of last year - he would have come home here, found it exhausting, and then screened everyone's’ calls for a couple of months again.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just stared at his face, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip until you could feel they’d left an indent as you ran your tongue over it. 

“But it’s weird, right?” he continued, biting back a smirk that made you a little uneasy about what he was going to say next. “He seems to be almost blissfully happy this year.”

You held your breath for a moment as you tried to organize your emotions, and then exhaled in a rush once it became uncomfortable. “Look, I. He’s obviously a lot of things to me. A best friend, a room mate, a...romantic partner?”

Jake shot you a disbelieving but highly amused look at your wording.

“But I’m worried that he’s tying himself to me too tightly.” With your eyes, you tried to portray the emotions that that thought evoked in you - how compressed it made you feel. 

He seemed to chew it over as he stubbed out his cigarette on the damp wood and then - near instantly - materialized another from behind his ear like a magic trick.  

“I love seeing him happy, but I’m scared that I’m the only thing making him happy,” you finished, voice admittedly a little shaky. You didn’t ask first - though you should have - but you slid closer to him until your shoulders were touching, and despite not knowing him all that well yet, it still managed to make you feel more grounded. “It’s not that I expect this to end - whatever we have - but what if it does?”

Jake’s eyes flitted around your features like he was trying to map your face as you anxiously waited for him to tell you everything would be alright. 

“You know,” he started, voice low. “When we moved away for school, he was the one that decided we wouldn’t room together. I mean, I didn’t blame him or anything, but I always just assumed we would. He used to be so outgoing. I mean, he never missed a party. People would trip over themselves to be next to him. He used to take his ex out any time he could - it didn’t really matter where, because he’s always had a way of making even the most monotonous task seem fun.”

You didn’t try to suppress a smile as it found your lips. 

“So, his ex broke it off with him. I don’t know what happened really - only what I’ve been able to pry out of him - but it fucked him up pretty good. And then as he was just starting to get over it, his roommate had some kind of mental break and just moved out one weekend while Josh was gone. It’s not like they were best friends or anything, but they got along.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, resting your head on Jake’s shoulder and not caring whether or not it was polite to do so anymore. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, simply. The tone of his voice was something very somber - the kind you’d use if you were giving a eulogy. “I tried to help. I offered to move in with him. I showed up at his apartment all the time, but he got pretty effective at dodging me. Not just me, actually, but everyone. Worried the fuck out of our mom.” 

“What then?” You were not-so-secretly hoping that Jake was going to find a way to make you feel better, and the pitch of your voice reflected it. The core of your body felt like it was stuffed full of stones, weighted and heavy. “What happened?”

Jake hummed. “Well, he started to level out a bit. After a good couple months he started at least answering the door when I came to see him. Sometimes he’d text me back after a day or two. That went on like that for a while.”

He titled his head to look over at you then for the first time in a while. You felt oddly vulnerable after hearing all of that, but you tried not to duck away from his eyes. 

“But then, suddenly, you were there. He didn’t tell me a thing about you, or even that he was getting a new roommate until well after you were already moved in.”

You huffed a laugh. “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t tell me anything about you either really. Imagine my surprise when I open the door and you were a twin. Uncanny valley territory.” 

“I think he learned how to compartmentalize the people in his life. Seems like it’s easier to manage relationships that way when you’re an extremely guarded person like he had suddenly become.”

He took a pause to take a long drag, simultaneously running a hand through his silky hair. 

“But to answer your question - I don’t think you’re the only thing making him happy,” he continued, meeting your eyes with an intensity that you understood to your core. “I think you’re just reminding him that there are things to be happy about.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but you were suddenly choking back tears and a tight, hot feeling in your throat.  

“You’ve just got to give him time to remember what it’s like.”

When you opened your mouth to reply, you realized you’d been holding your breath for a moment too long, causing you to suck in a shaky breath. “I intend to give him all the time he needs,” you promised. 

Jake offered you back a smile as he moved to stand, stretching out his muscles and then extending a hand for you to take. He helped you clamber up off the floor before tucking his lighter back into the pocket of his fleece sleep-pants. 

“Good to hear.” 

[wiypt-writes]

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance.

Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  So this is written as part of @anika-ann​’s 1111 Follower Challenge. Congratulations darling! My prompt was Fake Dating.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

 **********

“Hey, Steve.” You greeted the blonde super soldier as you walked into the little make-shift kitchen, deep in the underground London SSR HQ.

“Afternoon, Agent.” He nodded and you rolled your eyes, picking a piece of fluff off your khaki green uniform jacket.

“Seriously, after everything we’ve pulled together we’re still at agent?” You raised an eyebrow drawing a soft chuckle from the man in front of you as he poured a coffee into one of the tin mugs on offer, holding it out to you.

“Sorry, force of habit. Y/N. That better?”

“Much.” You nodded, taking the mug with a thanks, pulling a face as you took a sip. “God, all the technology we have and I still can’t get a decent cup of Joe.”

“Maybe you should have a word with Stark.” Steve shrugged. “He seems to be able to lay his hands on most things, rationing be dammed.”

“Well, you’re the man with the plan and he’s the man that can.” A smirk pulled at your face as you watched Steve fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, where’s Barnes? Colonel Phillips is riding my ass about a report he hasn’t filed. Keeps moaning on about us being unable to run strategic operations if we don’t actually do any strategizing.”

At that Steve’s face broke into a grin. “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” You frowned. “Chester isn’t that scary, he’s a pussy cat if you figure out how to make him purr.”

“Okay there are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to go into.” Steve snorted and you flashed him a grin as he continued. “He ain’t hiding from Phillips, he’s hiding from Private Lorraine.”

“Why?” You paused, mug hovering an inch or so from your mouth.

“Well according to Stark who heard from Jones who heard from-“

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the interesting bit about why Barnes his hiding like the cowardly lion” You cut him off and he raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing wider.

“She wants him to ask her to that USO dance gala thing Stark is hosting.”

At that you felt the heat in your neck, jealousy, at the thought of the blue-eyed solider you’d been harbouring a crush on for months, like some love sick teenager, dancing with someone else. You carefully held Steve’s eyes and licked your lips, hoping you hadn’t given yourself away too much.

“Of course she does.” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why is he hiding?”

“He doesn’t want to go with her.” Steve shrugged, taking another sip of his drink and this time you did absolutely nothing to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“How come?”

At that Steve hesitated for a moment before he popped a shoulder again, slightly avoiding your eye line. "No idea."

You knew he was lying, he was notoriously bad at it, but before you could call him out, a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Sure your Ma told you it was rude to talk about people behind their backs, Stevie." Bucky grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm sure yours told you it was rude to do a lot of things that you still do anyway." Steve shot back and Bucky merely rolled his eyes, walking to the coffee pot and helping himself. 

"Well, I’m astounded." You looked at Bucky as he turned around, leaning slightly against the small units that lined the room. "James Buchanan Barnes is fanning a woman away."

"Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it, Doll Face." He eyed you shrewdly over his mug.

"Still, never thought I'd see the day." You hummed, sipping your drink.

Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured with his mug towards Steve. "Now you sound like him."

"So, humour me, Barnes. What is it about her that’s making you run for the hills?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he winkled his nose and answered you. "She’s not my type."

"Really? I thought every woman was your type." 

At that, Steve gave a chuckle. "She's got you there, Buck. I don't think I saw you without one before you shipped off."

"Shut up, Steve." Bucky bit back before he gave a low groan. "She's just..."

"Just what?" You scoffed. "Tall, blonde with big, come-to-bed eyes and pouty red lips? What's not to fall over? Dum Dum follows her around like a dog."

"Sweetheart, Dum Dum would probably chase a pig wearing lipstick if he thought he had a chance." Bucky looked at you his eyebrow raised and you heard Steve give a little snort of laughter. You turned slowly to him, and his eyes widened a little as you narrowed your eyes.

"What's your excuse?"

"His excuse?" Bucky paused, mug poised at his lips as Steve began to flounder over his words, a pink flush spreading into his cheeks.

“Yeah, he kissed her.” You informed and Buck gave a loud groan, placing his mug down on the side. "Peggy caught them, big time."

"She kissed me." Steve protested and at that Bucky sighed. 

"What has my life become? Seriously?" He shook his head, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. "I’m hiding because I don’t wanna go dancing with some broad whilst this punks beating ‘em off with a stick."

"Shield." You corrected as Steve made an exasperated noise in his throat.

"I’m in a nightmare, right?" Bucky finished.

"’Fraid not, Buckaroo." You placed your now empty mug besides his on the wooden counter. "But I suggest that you get your report to me on the Dresden raid or you really will be in a bad dream. Colonel Phillips wants them pronto and I'm not taking the flack because you're too lazy to do it."

Bucky groaned. "How am I supposed to think about that with all this other shit going on?"

"Nice to see you have your priorities straight." Steve scoffed and Bucky glared at him but before he could reply, a loud girly laugh filled the kitchen and you saw Bucky still.

"There you are!" Private Lorraine spoke and you exchanged a glance with Steve, a look of utter glee spreading across his face at his friend's discomfort. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sergeant Barnes."

"Now what on Earth would give you that idea?" You quipped. As usual, she completely ignored you and watched as Bucky turned to look at her.

"Well, you found me." He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I did. So, err, this dance, do you have a date or..."

Bucky took a deep breath, "well, the thing is..."

"Yes, he does." You blurted out, before you could stop yourself. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, ignoring the shocked look he gave you as you stood by his side. "He's going with me."

"You?" Lorraine looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Yes, me." You smiled. "So, you'll have to find someone else to go with. I think Duggan might be free."

"Well, suppose there's no accounting for taste." The blonde woman in front of you looked you up and down and you bristled under her glare, your nostrils flaring angrily. Sure, you might not have her model looks, hell, you might not even be conventionally pretty in some eyes, but you sure weren’t going to make her let you feel like shit. You'd been brought up by a loving family who made you realise your worth and that despite what anyone else said, you were just as good as them. You continued to hold her gaze and eventually she licked her lips and looked away.

"Well, erm, that's..." she clicked her tongue against her cheek, before deciding to cut her losses and she left the room.

The three of you stood in silence before Bucky turned to look at you, a smirk spreading across his face. "You, are a genius!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you swallowed slightly, feeling the heat in your neck. "I owe you, big time."

"Yeah, you do." You shrugged. "You can start by doing that damned report. And then you’re buying me a drink at the Gala, seeing as we're, you know, fake dating."

"You got it, Doll." Bucky saluted, flashing you a wink.

"Fake dating?" Steve muttered, and you turned to look at him as he shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard it all now."

You cleared you throat, and removed your hand from where it was still in Bucky’s and swallowed. "I need to get going. That report, Barnes. Don’t forget."

"Anything for you, Darlin'." Bucky grinned.

You gave him a last little smile, and then turned leaving the room letting out an inward groan.

What the hell had you just got yourself into?

****

“Why did I do this?” You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head.

“Because you’re sweet on him.” Peggy matter of factly replied and you shot her a look in the mirror. She gave you a knowing smirk and you sighed.

“I just felt sorry for him, okay?”

“Sorry for him?”

“Yeah, you know what she’s like, she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Admirable.” Peggy nodded, stepping forward so she was behind you, reaching up to fix another pin into your up do. “So what’s your master plan? Act the part tonight and break up tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far.”

“I doubt you’ve thought at all.”  The brunette looked at you, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raising slightly.

“You know, you and Steve really are a match made in heaven.” You scoffed, stepping to the side as you smoothed down the dress you were wearing. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it traced your curves perfectly and made a nice change from the uniform you spent every day wearing. “Go take your righteous indignation and discuss it with him. That is if you’re speaking to him this week, I can never keep up.”

At that Peggy pursed her lips. “We’re not discussing me and Steve, we’re discussing you and how you’re going to get through the next however long pretending to date someone you actually want to date.”

“Well, it could be worse.” You shrugged.

“How?”

“I could be about to spend however long pretending to date someone I don’t like.”

Peggy looked at you for a second and you held her gaze, challenging her to say anything more on the matter. Eventually she merely raised her eyebrows before she turned and looked at the clock.

“We should go.”

With a deep breath you took one last glance at your reflection, grabbed the small clutch from the cot in your room and followed her out.

*****

The small dancehall in London's Soho District was packed with soldiers and civilian staff alike, and you accepted the drink offered to you by a waiter as you entered the main room, the Big Band already playing a bluesy-jazz number as background music, whilst people stood around the room, chatting. It didn’t take you long to locate Bucky. He was stood with Steve and the rest of the Howlies by the bar, all of them dressed in their best uniforms. Taking a deep breath, those pesky butterflies fluttering away in your stomach, you made your way over with Peggy and she let out an annoyed sigh as the men all blatantly looked the pair of you up and down.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.” She mumbled and you scoffed out a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been running missions with them for that long maybe they’ve forgotten that we actually have boobs and a vagina.”

At that Peggy stopped to look at you, and the pair of you started to laugh.

“You are so uncouth.” She shook her head at you, as you linked your arm through hers and continued your path towards your team.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the field with these bozos for over a year, guess their bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Well, as long as that’s all that’s rubbing off on you.”

“Agent Carter!” Your mouth fell open in mock horror, turning to look at her as she continued facing forward, her lips quirked up at one side in a barely there smirk. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

“Ladies.” Dum-Dum greeted you with a tip of his bowler as you approached and you nodded to him, smiling before you turned to look at Bucky.

“Wow.” His eyes flicked up and down your form again, and you swallowed, a warm feeling spreading over you as his eyes took in your outfit and when his eyes finally met yours he cleared his throat and you gave him a small smile. “You err, look great. I mean, compared to how you usually look.”

At that Falsworth, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones and Morita all snorted as Steve let out a groan.

“Thanks. I think.” You frowned.

“No, I err…I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky hastily began to back track as Dernier mumbled something in French, of which you caught the words ‘stupid idiot’, Jones hastily agreeing. “I just, well, it’s different to how I’ve seen you before.”

“Well a tight dress and courts ain’t exactly practical for hiking through woods and mounting stealth operations.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “But for the record, you look exactly the same as you usually do.”

At that the men all roared with laughter as Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “Guess I asked for that.”

Bucky watched as you gave him a small grin, before you turned to talk to Jones, and he took the chance to observe you properly. You looked good. You always did in his eyes but tonight, you were a knock out. Your dress hugged the curves of your thighs and hips, nipping in at the waist with a neckline that showed him just enough skin to leave him imagining what it would feel like to pepper your collarbone with kisses. Your hair was set in a perfect style, your lips rouged, you looked effortlessly stylish. He swallowed, sliding his finger in between the collar of his shirt and neck in an attempt to loosen the starched material as he suddenly flushed very, very warm. He felt timid, awkward, and that in itself made him feel a strange juxtaposition of irritated and amused. Bucky Barnes didn’t get nervous around women, that was Steve’s speciality. But here he was, flapping over how best to ask you if you wanted to get a drink whilst that punk was laughing away with Agent Carter hanging off his every word.

No, this wouldn’t do.

With a small cough, Bucky cleared his throat and dropped his hand to the base of your back. “You want a drink, Doll Face?”

You smiled up at him, blinking and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Buck. A gin would be great.”

Bucky waved over the bartender, placed your orders and had just turned back to you when he spotted the woman who’d thrown him into this mess in the first place, Private Lorraine arriving with some other poor, unsuspecting soldier from the unit. Bucky didn’t know his name, not that he cared.

“Hey,” he nudged you and you turned to face him and he jerked his head, “guess this fake date worked.”

You followed his eye-line and visibly bristled a little bit before you shook your head and shrugged. “Poor bastard.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just a hunch.” Bucky smirked, passing you your drink, before he gestured with his arm for you to follow the group who were now moving away from the bar to find a table. “After you, Darlin’.”

*****

You had to admit, you’d had your reservations but as it turned out, the night was pretty fun. Whilst you’d been hyper aware of Bucky besides you, you felt reasonably relaxed. His arm had dropped round your shoulder at one point, pulling you in for a friendly hug, the way he often did out in the field, and you’d simply enjoyed being as close to him as you were.

Because, fake or not, a chance to date Bucky Barnes didn’t come along that often.

It was a couple of hours later when you both found yourself at the table with Steve who made an excuse he needed the bathroom and left. Bucky snorted as Steve headed across the room and shook his head.

“Bathroom, he must think we’re stupid. He’s gone to find Peggy.”

“Aww, don’t. I think it’s cute.” You smiled, turning to look at Bucky. “Don’t you? I mean we’re fighting a war and in the middle of all this bloodshed and horror, he’s found someone who…” you trailed off as Bucky was watching you, a strange expression on his face. “Or not…am I talking nonsense?”

“No, it’s not that.” Bucky shook his head. “I just, guess I never thought about it that way. But you’re right. Suppose none of us know how long we have left, especially at the moment.”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning yours for something, but what you weren’t sure. You felt your cheeks warm and you glanced down at your hands, before you turned to watch the dancing going on around you. It was crazy when you stopped to contemplate that, in the midst of all the devastation and destruction, life was still going on. Bucky was right, your time could be up in a flash at any point.

“Well, seeing as you put it so eloquently,” you looked at Bucky, jerking your head to the dance floor. “Wanna show me how it’s done in Brooklyn?”

“Do you mind if we don’t?” Bucky shook his head and your heart sank. “I just…well, I…”

“No, you don’t need to explain.” You hastily back tracked. “I just thought it might keep up appearances, that’s all.”

There was an awkward silence, Bucky studying you for a moment with an expression you really couldn’t place and then, well, it all became too much.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You made the same excuse Steve had given moments ago, and before Bucky could say anything, you rose from your seat and walked away, as dignified as you could, trying not to let the tears that were stinging your eyes fall down your face.

*****

Bucky watched you walk away from him, your movements graceful as you headed round the tables placed around the edge of the dance floor, taking care to avoid the groups of guests as you went. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. It had started out as a bit of fun, you helping him out, because that's what you did, but he'd been a wreck all night. Frankly, being in such close proximity to you was making his head swim.

He'd wanted to dance with you, he'd really wanted to dance with you, but he didn’t trust himself because the truth was he liked you. A lot and he had done so for a while. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to hold you on the dance floor without trying to kiss the life out of you. So he’d said no, and let you walk away, and the look of hurt on your face was now burnt into his mind. With an angry snort he stood up and stalked to the bar, signalling for another drink.

He stood there, nursing his glass for what felt like an age, seething at his own stupidity until a familiar voice cut through his murderous thoughts.

"Did HYDRA scramble your brain or something, Buck?"

"What?" Bucky's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Steve.

"You’re missing a girl's signals."

"Signals, what are you..."

"Y/N, you dolt." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What about her?"

"She likes you, has for ages."

"I don’t think so, Steve" Bucky snorted.

Steve sighed and leaned against the bar as Bucky necked his scotch. "So explain the look she had on her face as she stalked passed me before.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She wanted a dance, dames love dancing. I said no.”

“And why did you do that?”

Bucky took a deep breath and didn’t answer. But he knew Steve could see right through him, the punk always could.

“Buck, what exactly did you think I meant that night at the bar when we first came to England a couple of months back? About Peggy having a friend? I meant Y/N."

Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open. "What?"

"She's sweet on you. Falsworth told me. I was trying to give you a hint."

Utter frustration lanced through Bucky's entire body and he shook his head. "How in the name of Hitler’s left ball was I supposed to understand that?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious."

"No, no it wasn't, Steve!" Bucky groaned, his eyes flicking around, trying to locate you in the crowd but he felt his heart sink as there was no sign. "Oh, I fucked up, big time."

"Suggest you go fix it then." Steve shrugged, his voice a little slow as he himself was busy looking at Peggy as she walked towards him, smiling. He stood up straight and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, before he walked off, leaving his sergeant alone.

Bucky anxiously continued to search the room with his eyes, and felt his heart jump as he saw a flash of colour the same as your dress, and your familiar profile as you walked onto the dance floor, your hand in Howard’s as the man smiled at you, pulling you into a hold.

Oh, fuck you, Stark!

Without wasting another second, Bucky necked his scotch and moved, striding around the dancehall towards you, not watching where he was going which was why he collided straight into Dum-Dum.

"Woah, Barnes, where's the fire?"

"On the dance floor, I hope.” Bucky sidestepped round the broad man quickly, his eyes entirely fixed on you as he weaved his way round the various couples all in the middle of a reasonable slow dance until he reached the pair of you.

He cleared his throat, gently tapping Howard on the shoulder as your eyes fixed onto his, surprise etched across your face.

“Mind if I cut in?”

xxxx

“Did it work?” Peggy asked Steve as the pair of them stood to the side of the hall. Steve glanced over the dancefloor, just as Howard stepped away from you, kissing your hand in an over-the-top gesture before he turned and walked away. Bucky approached you tentatively, and Steve saw you give the faintest of nods, before his friend took you in a close dancing hold.

Grinning, Steve turned back to Peggy, jerking his head to the floor. “See for yourself.”

As the pair of them watched you and Bucky for a second, Steve’s eyes then fell on Howard who had paused to talk to someone. Almost as if he could sense the Captain’s eyes on him, Stark glanced over, a smug grin crossed his face, and he gave Steve the thumbs up sign.

Steve smiled into his glass, the irony at the fact that Bucky had tried and failed many times to fix him up with gals in the past yet he’d managed to turn the tables in a single try, wasn’t wasted on the Captain.

xxxx

“Funny looking bathroom.” Bucky cleared his throat as he steered the pair of you round in a gentle dance.

“Oh, well I got waylaid a little.” You replied. “And seeing as we’re not actually dating, I didn’t think it was an issue.”

“It’s not, I just…” He was quick to reply as he drew in another deep breath before he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

 “What for?”

“Before, saying no the way I did. It was rude.”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you glanced up at him. “So, is that the only reason you’ve come to dance now? To apologise?”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Bucky stumbled over his words as he shook his head. “No, I wanted to dance. More specifically I wanted to dance with you.”

His admission settled like a bubbling brook in your belly. You wondered why, so you asked, "why?" 

Your mind began quickly doing the math, adding up the moments and signals between the two of you, wondering if what you dared to think was actually what he was thinking too. You were nervous but you remained close in your dance, your eyes flicking between his and his lips as he spoke, the words drowning in your ears, his voice sounding like your head was under water. 

“Because I like you, Doll Face.”

Then, you felt it, your body leaning in just a smidge as you tilted your head upward as his moved just a pinch to look down at you. Your lips brushed his and the electricity took off as he pulled you in for a deeper, slightly less modest kiss, the hand that had been curled around your waist moved upwards at the same time his other released yours from his hold, and calloused palms and fingers cupped your jaw and cheeks. Despite the roughness of his skin, his warm hands felt soft against your face like the finest silk whilst his tongue dipped into your mouth, kissing you in a way that your Pappy certainly wouldn’t approve of.

But you approved, boy did you approve.

The sounds of the big band drowned out the mewl that bubbled from your delicate throat to those around you, but not to Bucky. He heard the elicit sound clear as day, and that was enough. He wanted to get you alone, away from prying eyes.

He pulled back, casting a quick glance around before he looked down at you, "let's get out of here."

It was a suggestion as much as an instruction, and he waited as you blinked, before you gave the slightest nod and he took your hand, turned, and led you from the dancefloor.

****

How the pair of you made it back to your quarters, you had no idea, but here you were, stumbling into the small room, heated kisses being shared as Bucky kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on yours. Your fingers were now deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket before you pulled it open with a flourish, shoving it down over his shoulders and arms as Bucky was quickly pulling off his tie and opening the collar of his shirt. Before long, that was also discarded somewhere on the floor and your hands slid up his strong biceps, down his chest, tracing the taught muscle before your fingers hooked into the front of his uniform pants and you turned your attention to his belt, breaking the kiss a little so you could look down.

“Eager, Doll?” Bucky mumbled as his nose nudged at your chin, pushing your head up. His lips trailed across your jaw line, and then down your neck and you tipped your head back, your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips on your skin, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his five-o-clock shadow.

His hands slowly slid up your sides, before they moved round the back, his lips pressing to yours as you felt his fingers gently guiding the zip of your dress down. Once it was undone, you stepped back and allowed it to fall into a pool at your feet. Bucky glanced down and groaned as his blue eyes scanned the stockings, garter belt, lace panties and matching bra.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His lips crashed back to yours as he backed you towards the cot at the side of the room.  As the back of your knees hit the metal side of the frame, he gently lowered you down, positioning himself over you, caging you with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down your neck and her jawline.

You were powerless to stop the soft noises of pleasure you were making, try as you might, conscious of the fact the walls in the Quarter-Hall were thin, something you cursed on a daily basis as you could hear the squeak of the cot which belonged to the neighbour to your right as she turned over at night. Luckily for you, your springs were untested so to speak, therefore didn’t make a sound, unlike you at that moment in time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky suddenly stopped, his mouth hovering by your ear and you stilled, tilting your head to look at him. “I mean, this…well, it aint proper really, but…”

“Since when did you give a damned about being proper with a Dame?” You teased, fingers wrapping in the chain of his dog-tags, but there wasn’t a shred of humour in Bucky’s tone or on his face when he answered.

“When that dame was you.”

You blinked, and looked at his face, finding nothing there but a genuine softness and you were overcome with the emotions and sensations you were feeling and you yanked on the chain in your hands, pulling his head back down as you crashed your lips back to his.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this Bucky, I want it so much.” You mumbled against his mouth and he gave a groan, before he stood up, quickly, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the small condom packet, one you recognised as the standard issued to all soldiers to avoid them catching anything when they were putting it about during furlough, so to speak, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to unlace his boots.

Bucky was mentally cursing the damned things as he felt you stir behind him, the hard mattress of your bed dipping slightly, and he stilled as he felt your fingers gently brushing over the back of his shoulders. Your touch was feather light as your hands gently felt across his broad back and he gave a sigh, tipping his head back slightly to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

“Doll, if you want me to do anything to you tonight, I gotta get these boots off.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“Stop distractin’ me then.” His accent dripped from his tongue as he chuckled, and your lips curled into a smile against his.

“You saying you can’t handle a job with a little distraction?” You gave a tut, but pulled away a little to allow him to finally get the damned things off. “And Steve says you’re our best marksman.”

“Well, what does that Punk know?” Bucky tossed the boots to the floor with a thud, before he quickly raised his hips enough to allow him to slide off his pants. Then, in a flash he turned, pinning you back to the cot, smirking at the giggle that burst from your mouth. His hands trailed down your body, flicking open the clips on your garter straps without so much as a fumble, before the reached up and snapped the hooks at the front of your bra.

He took a moment to appreciate you, the soft, supple lines of your breasts a complete contrast to your toned shoulders and taught stomach, both the result of an extensive training regime.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over, kissing you softly, his lips tracing a track down your sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction. 

You groaned at the sensation, rolling your head back on the pillow, hips bucking upwards as you let yourself go, barely daring to believe that his was happening, but just as you were questioning if you were in some elaborate dream, a low moan from above you caused your fluttering eyelids to jerk wide open. You could feel him hard, pushing against you and your hands moved round to his back.  You dragged your fingers up his spine, as his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of your panties making your gasp as his fingers slipped into your folds. As he teased you, your hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from your lips as the heat began to build in between your legs, deep in your belly.

“Good?” Bucky’s voice was a rasp, and it was all you could do to do whimper softly, your head falling back further as your mouth dropped open, your entire body shuddering as the pleasure lanced through you. You reached down, grabbing his wrist and his eyes moved to yours, waiting.

“Want you.” You whispered softly. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that final bit of permission, Bucky’s fingers hooked into the top of your panties, gently sliding them down your legs, gathering your stockings as he went, a movement he had clearly perfected through goodness knows however many other clandestine liaisons. Discarding them to the floor, he wriggled his way out of his own underwear before he sat back on his heels and you moved, grabbing the packet he’d placed on the small bedside unit before.

Bucky groaned softly as your hands gently wrapped around his cock, sliding the condom down. It really shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. Once it was on, he crawled back over you, his thighs gently parting yours a little further and with a steady, slow motion he slid into you, the sensation caused both of you to groan, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky stretched you, his girth and length filling you completely.

"Fuuucckkk.” Bucky breathed out as your tight heat gripped him, his word little more than a whisper. He moved his hands to snake his fingers through yours, gently pinning your hands by the side of your head as he began to move his hips. He went slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as you keened underneath him, his dog tags sliding in the valley between your breasts, the metal cold against your heated skin.

Your hips bumped together with every thrust he made and, with each rock into you, he was rubbing against that soft spot deep inside you. Your soft cries stuck in your throat, your senses completely overwhelmed as the fire in your body was raging white hot.

“James,” you whispered his name, and Bucky let out a low groan, his fingers tightened around yours as he gave a particularly deep thrust, making you purr in delight. He raised his head to capture your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth before he released your hands, his own cupping your face as he continued to move.

In that moment, you could have been anywhere. In a hotel, surrounded by the finest silk sheets that money could buy or on some far away beach in the corner of the world, but instead you were led on a hard mattress in a military base, knowing full well you were in for some serious reprimand if you were caught, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the man who was currently undoing you piece by piece as the two of you were tangled in your own private dance.

The more Bucky gave, the more you wanted, and as he hiked your leg up round his waist, his fingers curling round the back of your knee you choked out another pant of his name, “James,” as you felt yourself nearing that point where you’d drop over that oh-so-steep cliff edge. The tips of your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“You feel so good.” His voice was nothing but a whine, and at his praise you gave another low, sultry gasp, your breath now coming in ragged gasps. “God, Y/N,” he moaned loudly as you titled your hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly. “You close?” he gasped and you nodded softly, your lips falling open and once again he kissed you, hard, his movements speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” You begged, shaking your head as you grasped at his back, “please, so good.”

Bucky felt you shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later your back arched and a soft cry escaped your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He could feel you tightening, pulsing around him as you came and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind you, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen as his hips faltered. A groan burst from his mouth as he gave a few final, sloppy thrusts before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into your neck.

You both lay still for a moment, before Bucky regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to your lips and as he pulled away slightly, he found you looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, heavy lidded eyes blinking slowly in your sated state, and he smiled at the fact you wore that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips before you kissed him again.

“More than okay.” You grinned, your nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sergeant.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he kissed you again, his lips hovering over yours. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself, Agent.”

*****

 “Nice of you to show up.” Colonel Phillips looked at you as you walked into the briefing room. “Late night, was it?”

“Sorry, Sir. I didn’t get much sleep.” You mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the table, a grin on his face.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw you leaving the dance early.” Dum-Dum quipped and you shot him a glare as you took up a seat next to Peggy who licked her lips, fighting a smirk.

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” Phillips sniffed before he tossed a file down on the table in front of Steve who reached over to take it. “We have word that HYDRA are intending to move Arnim Zola.”

“Do we know where to?” Steve asked, looking at the file before he glanced up and Peggy shook her head.

“No, this is hot off the press so to speak. Stark’s team intercepted their encrypted broadcast. All we know is that they’re nervous about moving, and that the route has been carefully planned to avoid any long, open distances.”

“They’re going through the Alps.” Phillips moved to a map at the side of the room. “Trying to maintain a cover so to speak. Our surveillance team still has Zola at his current location, but that could change at any time. Captain, I need you to co-ordinate and mount an operation to intercept that train and apprehend him.”

“If you know where he is why can’t we just bust in and get him now?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’ll never get there in time.” Phillips replied. “As we understand he’ll be moving out in a couple of hours. So we’re up against it. The window of opportunity lies about six hours into his trip where there’s a slight break in the mountain cover.”

“How do we know this is kosher?” Falsworth took the file from Steve. “They could be leaving a false trail.”

“We hacked a number of broadcasts, each saying a different thing.” Peggy answered. “But this one held the code words we know HYDRA are using today.”

“And our codebreakers have never let us down before, so I’m willing to take a punt.” Phillips nodded. “Get to it, we don’t have much time.”

There was a flurry of movement around the table as you all stood up, Steve barking instructions at you all to collect what you needed and head to the transportation hub immediately as Dum-Dum mentioned something about zip wires and ambushing the train from above. As you all sidled out of the room, a hand gently closed over your arm and you turned to see Bucky as he fell into step besides you.

“Just so you know, I don’t normally make habit of splitting before breakfast.”

“Oh, you normally eat first?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He smirked and you gave a chuckle. “I just didn’t want you thinking-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You assured him, and you did. He’d left in a flurry that morning before he could get caught sneaking out of the small room you had in the female quarters and you didn’t hold it against him at all. 

“But, I’d really like to take you out, properly, I mean. When we get chance.”

“You asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” Bucky stopped, turning to face you. “A real one this time.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Oh, but just so you know, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“No? Then what was last night?”

You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. In all honesty, you had no idea what had come over you last night. You’d never behaved in a reckless manner with a man like that before and taken him home so easily, for fear of getting yourself a bad reputation. That said, you didn’t really care either. You were in the middle of a war, running dangerous missions, any of which could be your last. Life was for living, and as long as you were breathing, you intended on making the most of it.

You opened your mouth to explain this to Bucky, but you stopped yourself and instead you simply smiled at him, your eyes looking straight into those steel-blues which were sparkling with mischief.

“Doesn’t count, it wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Bucky arched an eyebrow and you nodded.

“Yup, that’s how it is.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath as the pair of you continued walking, “guess I’ll just have to show you a real good time when I get the chance.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He grinned as you reached the end of the corridor. “But, first we’ve got a German scientist to catch. Think you can contain yourself around me long enough to run a mission?”

“Okay, first off he’s Swiss.”

“What?”

“Zola, he’s Swiss. I don’t know why you all think differently, it’s in all the briefings and his file-“

“Yeah, I don’t read those.”

“Well you should, you might learn something. And second -“ you held your hand up, finger extended, instructing him to keep whatever wise crack he was about to make to himself, “-you’re not that irresistible.”

Bucky blinked before he gave a laugh and shook his head. “You know, I actually learned a fair bit last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I learned that you cut a mean rug, Doll-Face.” He glanced around, before he leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “And that you look even better with your clothes off.”

With that he turned and headed off towards the equipment store, leaving you staring after him, blinking with shock, but feeling an overwhelming sense of smugness that, even in the middle of all this bloodshed and fighting, you had something to look forward to when you got back.

[abbatoirablaze]

Just Like You, Chapter 5

Word Count:  1.4k

Warnings:  angst, mentions of a break in, child drugging an adult, child psychopath, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of death/murder. 

I had been constantly looking over my shoulder, all too familiar with the feeling of being watched.  But the past few weeks had been simple enough.  No one was looking into me.   Brendan ‘picked up’ the cabin so that it was legally under his name, and bluffed his way through it, telling the man that he was cordial with my brother. 

Jackson was the first one that received a visit from the man. 

He sent his lap dog’s head back to him in a box, the rest of his pieces were handed to me and sold to my clientele. 

That was where my trouble started though. 

A client, a little more than a friend of a friend had been made aware and had broken the non-disclosure enforced heavily by me. 

So, I had to make a switch, and take that woman to make her a meal choice for Brendan. 

He was happy enough to have the extra meat. 

And sure, she wasn’t his first choice, but she would do.  She was independently wealthy but had no real family that would come looking for her.  And that much I had known.  His client list had become more demanding, and with his schedule as a resident and Ann and two boys at home, he needed all the help that he could get. 

But that was where I fucked up. 

I spent too much time looking out for him, that it indirectly caused a link between us.  His mystery person started looking into my family tree, and thought that maybe, just maybe, I would be some sort of thing that could be dangled in front of my brother and Brendan for a reaction. 

But when neither one of them flinched and I got a call that the woman who was staying in the house I owned, using my name was dead, things became serious. 

Which was why, coming home from the store and seeing the front door open ever so slightly, my heart had dropped.  I felt my nerves fraying as I discretely dropped the groceries to the kitchen floor, and I locked the front door behind me. 

Please be in your hiding spot, Brayden.

I listened, waiting in my spot while I tried to figure out if there were any noises coming from inside the apartment…my heart racing even faster when I heard nothing.  I reached into my bag on the floor that I’d dropped next to the groceries and grabbed the syringe from the hidden compartment, and my nine mil in the other hand.

Then I began the slow process of making my way through the apartment, checking for signs of a struggle or any sort of evidence that someone had been there. 

Little things were moved, but it was nothing major.  I sighed to myself, wondering if maybe the mystery benefactor had found me because of Ann, or if they had come and murdered my son when they found him.  

But all of my worries were put to rest when I saw Brayden calmly sitting in his room on his bed. 

“Hi mommy.”

“Brayden, wh-“

I stopped speaking when I noticed a girl’s leg sticking out of his trunk.  Walking to the end of the bed a girl was tied up and unconscious in it. 

“Did I do good mommy?” I put the syringe and gun down on his dresser and dropped to my knees, cradling my son’s face to check and see if there was anything wrong.  My five-year-old laughed and playfully pushed my hands away, “mommy what are you doing?”

“How did you-what-what happened?” I asked, trying to figure out what to ask him first, “who is this?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “she came in through the front door with the thingy that daddy taught me to use to open locks…I ran to my room and hid, just like you taught me to…she was going through your stuff mommy…sh-she found things.”

My heart went into my throat as I picked him up, instantly racing towards my bedroom.  There I could see that she’d found the box in the closet.  The pictures of the men were spilled across the floor, almost like she’d realized she walked right into a monster’s den without realizing it. 

“I stuck her mommy,” he said proudly from my hip, “I stuck her than ran to my room…she hit her head off my dresser though…”

“She-you tied her up.”

“Just like you and daddy taught me,” he said proudly, looking at me with the same grin that he shared with his father, “aren’t you happy mommy?  I stopped the bad girl from getting away…from telling on you.”

“You did good baby,” I said softly to my son, grateful more than anything that he was safe, “now we just got to wait for her to wake up…”

“I called daddy too!” he said proudly. 

My heart dropped back to the pit of my stomach, “you what?”

“Yeah!” he grinned, “daddy said that it’s not safe and to wait for him in my room…we should probably go back to my room now, mommy.  We gotta wait for daddy.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Faith, what the fuck did you think you were doing, huh?” Brendan growled, his hands running nervously through his hair as he scowled at me, “you left Brayden at home alone, whi-“

“If he wasn’t home she would have found my stash and gone to the cops!” I said defensively, “you were the one that told me I shouldn’t take Brayden out…and I don’t know anyone here.  I can’t just leave him with someone I don’t know.”

Brendan’s jaw clenched as he looked between me and my son.  Brayden clung to my thigh as he looked at his father, “I protected us, daddy…you and mommy always say that we have to protect family…I did that…I’m a big boy like you…”

Brendan softened, a look passing his features, “yeah….you protected mommy…you did everything right buddy…I-I’m not mad at you…”

“Don’t be mad at mommy…she was protectin’ me…just like you told her.”

“She should have texted me instead of going out…” Brendan grumbled, looking back at me, “baby…you’re pregnant…I-I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you…”

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated, “not an invalid…just because you don’t let Ann go out and do things doesn’t mean that I’m going to follow along blindly like some puppy.”

“Faith…”

“Brendan…”

“What are we going to do?” he asked after a minute, “she can’t stay here…and we definitely can’t let her go.”

“She’s still alive,” I pointed out, “still has a pulse.  Still breathing.  She’s just sedated.   I figure we wait til dark and then move her inside the trunk with the other stuff.  We were supposed to be moving me into the house by the cabin anyways…so nothing will seem off.”

“Th-that could work…”

“I have to go pick up the moving truck,” I admitted, “or…I was supposed to…if you want to pick it up, I’ll stay with Brayden…and I can start putting the smaller boxes by the door…and I can finish up packing the kitchen.”

“Promise me that you won’t do anything until I get back,” he asked, shooting me a look, “promise me that you won’t go outside, or talk to anyone…or-“

“We’ll be fine,” I replied shortly, sending him a glare, “but if you don’t trust me you can stay here with Brayden and watch your next girl while I-“

“No…no,” he said quickly, “I’ll go pick it up…you, Brayden and the baby stay here.”

“Okay…”

“And don’t scare me like that again,” he said nervously.  My brow raised as he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around me.  I sighed into his arms, my bump pressing against his toned chest, “when Bray called I thought something happened to you and the baby…he-“

“We’re fine.”

He pulled away and held my face between his hands, “Faith…I know that you’re used to being alone, bu-“

“My boyfriend is off living his real life with his other family, of course I’m used to being alone,” I said grumpily.  He frowned and I could see the regret in his face, “I-“

“I’m going to leave her one day…I promise…it’ll just be us and the kids…we’ll disappear an-“

“Brendan…we both know that’s a lie.”

He sighed, “you know that I love you though…right?”

“I know…”

“You, Brayden and the baby are the only people that truly matter to me…I-“

“I know,” I repeated softly, my forehead leaning forward so that I could brace it against his, “I love you too Brendan.”

“I just want our family to be safe!”

“Me too, Brendan…me too.”

Chapter 6

Tag list @manyoulookingood, @lohnes16, @blueeberryyy,  @elbell20-blog

[sylvie-writes]

Long Haul

word count: 1694

pairing: harry styles x female reader

summary: just some fluffy moments along Harry and (y/n)’s trip back to England. 

author’s note: this is my first time writing for harry, hopefully it is okay! it’s taken me forever to convince myself to write anything for him! if all goes well, i might write for him more often :)

please excuse any mistakes! 

Globs of people swarmed the airport carousel, anxiously waiting for the buzz that would signal the first round of luggage. It was already dark out since the flight was what some would call a “long-haul.” A few lonely stars were peeking through the large glass windows and the shuffling of people had started to dwindle down. 

Half an hour had passed since (y/n) and Harry had landed and unfortunately, it was one of those nights where the baggage was taking forever to arrive. Since (y/n) was ridden with sleep, she softly laid her head on Harry’s shoulder that was now clad in a black sweatshirt. The two had just flown back from the States where (y/n)’s cousin had her wedding. It was very clear that the man was handling the sudden time change much better than his girlfriend who hadn’t been on the road as much as him. Her sunken eyes would occasionally peer up at his glasses-covered ones, silently asking if anything had changed. When she noticed that nothing had changed and they were still stuck waiting, she’d just go back to leaning against the slender man as if he were a wall. 

Granted, from the small sum of people that surrounded them, a few still recognized the tall, famous brunette. To shun their stares, he’d just turn his head and look at his phone or place a kiss on (y/n)’s head before anyone could be sure that it was him. Harry was never one to be rude to those who recognized him, but as any normal human, the last thing you want to do at 1 am is take a picture after having sat on a plane for twelve or so hours. 

Finally, close to an hour after the flight had landed, a loud whirring awoke (y/n) from her mini nap on Harry’s shoulder and she looked up to see people crowding the metal carousel. Harry, too, noticed the commotion and looked up from his intense staring at the ground, now snaking his hands from his sweatshirt pocket to grab one of (y/n)’s hands. The two of them then hurriedly made a beeline straight into the crowd where their own bags passed by just in time. 

With their flight having landed at such an early hour, neither (y/n) or Harry wanted to trouble any of his family members by asking to meet them at the airport. Instead, they opted to use a rental car which now led them on their next task. Fortunately, (y/n) had dug out the papers earlier while on the flight which now allowed for them to easily decipher which stand to approach. Luckily, not many people were renting cars at this hour. Looking to make an excuse to run off, Harry quickly excused himself to “run off to the loo,” seeing as (y/n) was capable of handling this herself. 

Instead of actually running to the bathroom, the man took a slight detour and rather made his way to a small coffee stand that seemed to be open. He knew that (y/n) hadn’t eaten anything in a couple of hours and also knew that cinnamon rolls were one of the many ways to bring a smile upon her face. Oh how he loved seeing that gorgeous smile. It always made his day, albeit even if it was currently nighttime. 

The exchange was quick, but not quick enough as (y/n) apparently had the same plan in mind. Harry turned to see the woman approaching his way and he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle underneath his breath. She was halfway to the stand when she noticed her boyfriend, along with a coffee and cinnamon roll in his hands, causing her eyes to light up. 

(Y/n) smiled brightly as she handed the large luggage to Harry and he exchanged with her the two goodies. While the woman indulged in the snacks that would hopefully give her energy, Harry leaned down to softly kiss the crown of her head before throwing an arm around her shoulders, guiding them both to the parking garage. 

Once a second wind had hit Harry, he was a piper as a tiny dog while (y/n) struggled to keep her eyes open behind the wheel. She had been driving for some time now having convinced Harry to let her drive first, once they had left the airport. After some time of his own pleading, Harry was able to get the woman to switch seats with him at this gas station, ignoring her stubborn remarks. Normally on long drives, the two would take different “shifts” and technically it was now his turn to drive, despite (y/n) protesting that it wasn’t. The minute the man was in the driver’s seat and they were out in the road, (y/n) was more than alert. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Harry and his driving because he wasn’t a bad driver per se, but he was just a bit…too confident when he drove. Maybe it was the fact that he had a lead foot that made (y/n) physically push herself to keep her eyes open. For whatever reason, she just wanted to be awake, in case of anything that could suddenly occur. She’d much rather arrive at Anne’s in one piece and she was sure Harry would concur on the matter. 

To stay awake himself, Harry had turned up the stereo and teasingly sang off key to some 90’s pop song, giving (y/n) a bit of a laugh (and minor heart attack, as he kept looking away from the road.) She’d uneasily laugh to shake his gaze off and he knew very well what she was doing, having been with her so long that he knew her actions (and thoughts on his driving) like a second nature. So, being the man of humor that he is, Harry would purposely do little things to get on her nerves while knowing very well she wasn’t actually angry and rather playing along with the charade. 

“You alright there, (y/n/n)?” Harry, one hand on the wheel, placed his free hand on her thigh. He couldn’t help but slyly smile when (y/n) cut her eyes at him, the moonlight making them sparkle the slightest. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Styles.” (y/n)’s facade then broke, causing her to chortle a bit while a smile broke onto her lips. Harry noticed and his shoulders raised up in some laughter of his own. Eyes back on the road, the man blindly dragged his hand up her thigh and now into her lap, searching for her hand. Having found it, he intertwined their fingers, bringing the back of her hand to his lips. Needless to say, they stayed that way for the rest of the trip. Occasionally, the sleep deprived pair would participate in some off-key car karaoke of their own thanks to their current clouded judgement.

It was getting closer and closer to early morning by the time they had arrived. At this point there really was no point in sleeping as the day was about to begin anyway. Regardless of the time, Harry and (y/n) practically rushed out of the car wanting nothing more than some sleep. Leaving their unnecessary bags in the car, Harry fished out a key for the house, resting his hand on the small of (y/n)’s back, quietly ushering her inside. 

Like teenagers sneaking back in after a night out, (y/n) and Harry tip-toed up the stairs, careful of the creaking, and safely made it into his childhood room without waking anyone. 

In no time, (y/n) and Harry, arms wrapped around each other, were zonked out in the twin size bed. To save space, (y/n) pretty much threw a leg over the man’s hips while his own legs kinda fell off the side of the bed. It was very much comical and something out of a movie, but most of all, something they’d both feel later in the morning. 

-

10 am. 

BEEP!

The twinkling sound of Harry’s alarm went off, waking only him seeing as (y/n) was like a log to his side. Muttering a raspy “damn,” Harry quieted the annoying (and apparently forgotten) alarm. Never able to fall back asleep after waking, he opened an e-book that he had been dying to finish after months not having been able to, now relishing in the sun peeking into the room while his love peacefully dreamt beside him. 

Not too far into his book, Harry noticed the door slowly opening to reveal his mother, a small smile on her face. Finding the best way to get out without waking (y/n), Harry padded across the floor, meeting his mom in the hallway where she stood with a breakfast tray. 

“I saw your car out front and figured you two might want something.” Anne lifted the tray to show an assortment of breakfast goods. Scanning the tray, Harry noticed two lonely cups to the side, one of tea for him and one of coffee for (y/n). He gently chuckled at his mom’s attention to detail and thanked her with a kiss to the cheek, the two of them exchanging words of delight.  

Going back into the room, tray balanced in his arms, Harry noticed (y/n), now sitting up in the bed and sleepily rubbing her eyes. A cheesy grin was on the man’s face as he climbed into the fluffed up quilt, setting the tray in the woman’s lap. Leaning across, he quickly pecked her lips, “Good morning, m’darling girl.” 

“Morning, H.” She smiled at him, sounding well rested and chipper. (Y/n) gasped in excitement at the breakfast before her, going on about how Anne always thought of them and that they needed to repay her somehow. 

Harry just nodded, listening to her every word as if it was gospel, an uncontrollable smile on his face the whole time. As the two shared breakfast in bed, both Harry and (y/n) thought to themselves, “This couldn’t get much better.”

✰ hi! i just want to say thank you if you made it to the end of this haha! lemme know what you thought! i know there wasn’t much dialogue or loads of fluff, but hopefully it was still up to par! 

✰ if you guys ever have any ideas, feel free to send them my way and i will try to use them! xo. 

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

it’s halloween month so I would love to know any and all of your dan/nate halloween headcanons (bonus points if milo’s there too) 🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡

you sent this on the first of october like the wonderful festive pumpkin pal that you are! but i have been sooo no thoughts head empty,,,, and i wanted to give this actual deliberation & thought before diving right in, so....

DAN, SPECIFICALLY:

ok. i think dan would have complicated & conflicting feelings re: halloween. we already know, canonically, that rufus was really into halloween, so this paints a pretty elaborate image in my head of halloween at the humphrey household - i bet it was a lot of fun! but then, of course: alison left. i think holidays in general become difficult for dan in the After, because they remind him of a time his family was truly happy that he cannot go back to.

so halloween is always bittersweet for dan, he'll carve all the pumpkins and get nate all the pumpkin flavoured stuff from all the cafes, and his wardrobe is so full of browns and sweaters that he's always ready for fall anyway, and he's happy! he is. but sometimes he'll remember another family he used to be part of that's all fractured & fragmented now, and he'll get a little sad. it happens less frequently over the years, but it never quite stops. (nate the ever observant always puts an arm around him and kisses his cheek, and says something silly to make dan smile. sometimes they talk about it; most of the time they don't. but nate is always there, quiet & non-judgemental, waiting for when/if dan needs him.)

NATE, SPECIFICALLY:

on the contrary........ halloween is natie's absolute FAVOURITE. much like the thanksgiving flashbacks we get in 1x09, i feel that halloween for nate, during his childhood, would involve being with blair & serena and all of them having the time of their lives. i think anne & howard would drop him off at the waldorfs, and eleanor would entrust blair & serena & nate to dorota's care. when they're younger they go trick or treating, and blair is very serious and very prim & proper and has on a perfect, sophisticated costume (she dresses as movie characters always) while serena's in a state of chaos, her costume for whatever she's dressing as (usually a witch or a ghoul or something like that) is a bit lopsided, the ribbons in her hair are coming out, her makeup is smudged (not deliberately!). nate, naturally, is sort of in between those two states - blair dolls him up and sets him to rights, serena takes his hand and runs around with him until his costume is a little wonky - by no means as much as hers, but definitely not in pristine, blair-approved state. blair just gives serena & nate a tired, Adult look, like they're toddlers and she's the babysitter (this doesn't change over the years, and this dynamic sets in remarkably quickly.)

once they're older, there's alcohol, there's halloween parties maybe, but nate still sticks with blair and serena, and they still hang out with him. halloween & the first of november are THEIR days, because they always do a sleepover on the 31st, and waking up together on the 1st of november is just something that makes the day Theirs, to nate. so unlike dan, for nate, he DID have that family feeling, and he had it consistently over the years, and he knows that it exists still.

DAN & NATE, FINALLY:

nate gets so excited for halloween! he goes full on into event-planning mode. he and jenny get really engrossed in designing costumes for the humphrey gang, and dan is like "who are you again?" and nate gives him the finger + an unamused look. halloween is a great bonding time for dan & jenny's gf, actually, because both of them get to watch their partner be an absolute dork over the holiday AND get really into designing (which is normal for jenny but not for nate, lol.) they just sit together and share drinks and act very, very cynical.

dan knows that halloween month is a special month for nate, and he's determined Not to be a grouch, so he goes out of the way trying to keep that cheer alive. he bakes sugar cookies that he ices to look like ghosts, he carves pumpkins, he does All The Things. but in a similar vein, nate knows that halloween month is a bit rough for his bf, so he is extra cuddly and patient, and goes out of his way to remind dan again and again that he loves him, that they're family now, etc.

i think halloween would also bring a lot of gender feels to dan, who gets this one holiday in which it's socially acceptable to wear makeup and doll himself up and dress up as whoever he wants to be. i think that'd give him a lot of euphoria, a lot of questioning, and a lot of anxiety, all at once, and i think nate would just be there like a stabilising force, because nate just loves dan that unconditionally, whoever dan is, even if dan is figuring that out - nate loves dan. i had more to say about This Point specifically but i am so tired, i kind of forgot what it was.

oh!!! vampire movies. all of them. nate and dan WOULD. they'd watch endless nights and they'd watch vampire porn and they'd definitely sleep together after THAT. nate would bite dan's neck and repeat some dialogue from the porno, and dan would laugh, but he would also be so, so turned on. (what! parts of this are literally canon!)

since dan also canonically reads anne rice (i wonder if he's one of the fic writers who got a cease & desist or whatever she was sending at them back in the day, that would be an interesting dan humphrey backstory) i think he'd read it aloud to natie. nate would just be lying there with his head on dan's lap, and dan would be sitting up reading aloud, one of his hands carding thru nate's hair.

at a blairena halloween party one time, dan and nate dress up as... *drum roll* each other. are you surprised? yeah, me neither. they keep making risque references to That Night At Yale, and blairena threaten to kick them out of the party (empty threats.)

MILO HUMPHREY MY BELOVED:

i wish i had more milo headcanons than just "jenny designs extremely elaborate costumes for milo, and nate goes trick or treating with him" but that's kind of it. milo would also end up wearing a LOT of orange-brown-maroons to school all through october (dan is like, nate, the kid is 5, is this the age to put your fall agenda onto him? nate is like, yes.) i think once he's older, milo would start getting these ridiculous mugs home in october - a pumpkin mug, a mug shaped like a skull, a mug shaped like a skeleton hand, etc. think mugs that look like THS thing that krysten ritter is holding:

dan looks at the collection of horror themed mugs they have with equal parts dismay and pride, and looks at nate like, yeah, you sure did raise this kid alongside me, didn't you? this is all YOUR influence, babe.

i also feel like milo would wear black nail polish ALLLL the time. he'd start during halloween and just never stop. i mean. if you're curious about this, i have two words for you: aunt jenny.

BONUS:

nate finds photos of a younger dan trick or treating - dan must be 7 or 8 in these photos, and he & vanessa are both dressed up as witches, with the hats and everything. dan is carrying a pumpkin shaped lantern, and marx is sitting in the lantern, peering out from inside it.

dan just smiles, and goes, "yeah, when i was a kid, all my costumes involved marx in some way." there's marx with angel wings (looking extremely disgruntled), there's marx with a green blanket around him ("he was a caterpillar that year," dan informs nate seriously), there's marx with a little bonnet on his head ("he hated that SO much," dan laughs).

the humphreys adopted marx when dan was around 7 - and given how unconcerned rufus is by lily's lack of pets - when he moves in with her, they do not discuss getting a cat or a dog or a bird or anything.. i'm guessing that maybe alison and dan went to pick marx out. i think dan and jenny have both seen marx grow from being a kitten to an adult cat, but because dan was older he remembers it slightly better. and dan and that cat were INSEPERABLE, to the extent wherein dan would often put marx in a pram and stroll him around everywhere. (there are halloween pictures of this, too.)

anyway, i'm just saying.

"he was my partner in crime," dan says fondly, looking at a picture of marx.

"i'm your partner in crime," nate corrects him.

"well, yeah," dan says. he raises an eyebrow. "but do you really need to compare yourself to my cat?"

/end

[monsterlovinghours]

I had another Zoom call with Alex today

-Holy shit, every time I think I can't possibly love him more, I find out how untrue that is. I would absolutely take a bullet for this man.

-He asked how I've been (pretty sure he remembered me), and I told him that I'd taken my first day off in like almost two weeks, on National Pretzel Day (I work at Auntie Anne's), to talk to him.

-He said that he was just talking about Auntie Anne's last night and how funny that was, then he noticed the cup I was drinking out of was from Fuzzy's, and he went "No way! My brother in law and I were talking about that restaurant like twelve hours ago! This was meant to be."

-I mentioned the towns I grew up in and how my hometown is the biggest meth trafficking city in the state. He laughed and said something like "This is the first time I've ever talked about meth in one of these calls."

-I GOT TO SEE KEVIN!! HE WAS SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AND HE WOKE UP WHEN I SAID HI!!!

-My phone was on quiet when he was talking and it kept going off, and when I apologized and turned my sound off, I mentioned my notification ringtone was Fizz. He laughed and went "No, turn it up! I wanna hear!" So of course it went off again like three minutes later while he was talking, and he thought that was really neat, he was like, "I never imagined I'd be a ringtone." I told him that my sound for calls was The Whole Being Dead Thing, and he was like, "That's super flattering, I feel like I'm somehow a part of you, and I love that!"

-I showed off my collection of Funkos (I was sitting in front of my collection), and he thinks they're neat; he also mentioned he has the same Beetlejuice plushie that I do, and that he has like a thousand Beetlejuice Funkos because when the show got popular, people kept sending them to him.

-He also complimented my Keatlejuice shirt.

-We told bad jokes. He's a fan of dad jokes and bad puns and I love that for him.

-The trash truck at my apartment complex startled him; its very loud and my window was open and he goes, "Did someone just explode outside of your apartment??"

-We talked for a good while, but he was very nice about also answering any questions I had, which were:

-Is it more difficult emoting a character when you're voiceacting and don't have physical characteristics to use? (He said it definitely is more constraining, and that for the most part you don't have the context of what the other actors are doing to go off of, just half-finished animatics, but that he gets to go to work in his sweatpants and that its nice that he can take as many takes as he needs to get a line right) -A song that gets you hyped (Stargirl by McFly), a song that makes you sad (If I Ever Say I'm Over You by John Bucchino), and a "Nazi scalping" song (Bulls on Parade by Rage Against the Machine). -If you could take a physical prop home from LooLoo Land, what would it be? (the Frog with Human Teeth animatronic, which funnily enough was my answer too) -Any backstage rituals or superstitions? (No superstitions, but he's mindful of those that have them. He has 3 rituals; make the rounds after getting into costume and makeup to see who's on that night and to check everyone's wellbeing, listen to podcasts or standup while getting into character, and reminding himself and his cast members just before they go onstage that for someone out there, this is their first show, so make it a good one). -What's a funny Kevin story you have? (Once Kevin snuck into the office and somehow closed the door, and Alex and his wife were panicking for an hour because they couldn't find him; Kevin was perfectly chill and couldn't figure out what the big fuss was all about. He also told a story of Kevin, who hates water and being wet, diving headfirst into a dirty public pond to chase ducks. I love this dog more than life itself.)

-All in all, though the Zoom chats are only meant to be like 30 minutes, we ended up talking for almost an hour! He said he wanted to see the gif I made of him doing the Shrimp Squad hand gesture from the Instagram livestream, and that he loves it every time the Shrimp Squad is brought up.

-also he thinks I'm cool?????? which is like???? this is it I've achieved peak existence

-Absolutely going to do this again, and next time I'm going to make sure I have my roommate with me; they deserve a chance to say hi and to speak with him, and I've talked about them so much he actually wants to meet them.

[aceofspadegrass]

Okay hear mean out,so Niragi has A lynx right?. So let's just say that Catra here is pregnant with little baby Bobcats inside of her,and well..she's sitting on Niragi and Dori's Bedroom floor with fanta laying right next to her..and the she goes into labour.

Of course Niragi would freak out,Dori ran outside to call for Ann and Tatta with Henry in the medical room,Aguni helps Catra,guiding her to the medical room where Dori,Ann and Tatta are.

Niragi would storm out of the room,worrying about Catra as Fanta just runs beside him with his fedora hat on. And when they get to the door of the Medical room,Aguni I'd now aloud to be in there,nor Dori and Niragi. Fanta doesn't want to go in there too. Niragi starts panicking,so Dori Lifts up Fanta and puts him right in front of Niragi's face as fanta happily lick Niragi's face so he would calm down.

Eventually Last boss and Cabot are there,waiting outside. Both of them want to see the baby Bobcats,Meanwhile Ann,Tatta and Henry are in there. Ann and Tatta too focus getting the babies out of her,meanwhile Henry helping Catra calm down by scratching her ear.

How about the ending and how many babies would she have?? That's all up to you :D

Catra Becomes a Mother

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Aguni Morizono, Ann Rizuna, Tatta Koudai, Last Boss, Dori Sakurada, Cabot

Genre: Fluff. Catra is giving birth you guys- Baby season-

2.5k words

Hehe, I have finally gotten around to writing this! After the other 'Niragi's exotic pet gives birth' fic, I didn't know how to approach this, since it was the same general prompt, but I think I made it my own! I hope you like it, because I wrote this in one go!

Will the babies be canon in this AU? I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps they'll a one off sort of deal?

The sound of barking is what wakes him up, followed by rather strange noises. Niragi tried to block it out at first, but the barking gets louder, and Niragi throws a pillow at the general area.

“ Shut up you stupid animal-“ Niragi grumbles, but Fanta whines loudly, and not even a few moments later did Niragi suddenly feel a pressure on him. Fanta barks, now much closer to his face, and Niragi shoos the pup off, sitting up. “ What is it-“ He pauses when he hears what sounded like strange panting noises. Immediately he turns on the lamp by his bed to see what was up, only to nearly fall back when he saw his beloved cat on the ground making strange noises, and beneath her by her lower region was something obviously wet. “…. Oh my goodness Catra are you alright-“ Niragi asks, Catra making a sort of strained noise as her body trembles, like it was pushing something out.

Like it was….

“ Oh my goodness gracious.” Niragi mutters, Fanta barking and making Catra growl a little in defence of what obviously seemed to be something really serious, Niragi grabbing Fanta and hushing the small dog. “ You stay quiet, don’t you dare stress out my baby girl.” Niragi threatens the poor dog, Fanta whining but staying quiet. Niragi turns to where Dori, his unintentional roommate slept, who was actually still fast asleep, not that far away from Catra. Niragi glances at his cat in worry, then back at Dori, grabbing a second pillow and yeeting it as hard as he could in Dori’s direction.

“ Wh- Huh? Niragi, what’s going on?” Dori wakes up with a start, looking up at Niragi instantly with confusion and worry in his facial features. Niragi just gestures to Catra, eyes wide and lips pressed so tight it was obvious he was trying not to scream, Dori following his trail of sight. He gasps, eyes widening as well, and he gets up. “ I-I’ll be right back with the nice lady with the shades- Maybe she’ll know something? I think she knows medical stuff, yeah-“ “ Oh goodness not the dissection freak lady-" “ Don’t be mean Niragi! I don’t have the time- Catra doesn’t have the time for this-“ Dori races out of the room, Niragi climbing out of bed and kneeling besides his cat. Catra had been rather picky these past few days, choosing to reside in the oversized hollow cat stump that Last Boss randomly gave him one day, muttering about lynxes preferences and then fucking off like an old man on a stroll.

Niragi’s didn’t have time to think about how weird his closest thing to a friend was, petting Catra’s head and hushing her, eyes softening at the sight of her struggling with something Niragi still didn’t even know what was going on. “ It’s okay Catra, you’re gonna be just fine…..” Niragi mutters, keeping himself from breaking down in concern. Catra would secretly laugh at him, he just knows it. The others would too, and he couldn’t bear to even think about that possibility.

So he keeps calm, Catra making a rather lengthy yowling noise as she spasms once more. It takes far too long for Niragi’s comfort for Sakurada to return, along with Ann and for some odd reason Tatta, who Niragi chooses to ignore.

That is until they try to touch Catra, Niragi himself growling and pushing the two away. “ Don’t fucking touch her!” “ Niragi-“ Ann starts, but Niragi wasn’t having it, far too protective of his cat. Like hell was Ann and Tatta touching her. He didn’t even want them here anyways.

“ Niragi, let them take Catra to the infirmary, Ann can figure out what’s wrong there and be prepared-“ Sakurada begins to attempt to reason, but another strained mewl from Catra only makes Niragi more protective, glaring at the three of them.

“ Just tell me what’s wrong with her here. She’s gonna be just fine, I know it.” His voice was stern, cold even. Tatta looks at him with concern clear on his face, eyebrows furrowed and frowning. Ann sighs, and crosses her arms, eyes trailing over Catra curled in her log, eyes slowly narrowing. “ Niragi.” “ What the fuck do you want." “ We need to take her to the infirmary. We’ll even bring her log. Or somewhere dark.” “ My room is plenty dark! Why do you need somewhere dark anyways?” Ann looks to Niragi silent for a few beats before dropping the bomb, Niragi’s eyes widening and mouth dropping open as she says what Niragi didn’t think he’d ever get to hear directed at him.

“ Niragi, she’s in labour. We need to get her somewhere where she can get medical aid if necessary.”

Niragi was frozen, before he looks at Catra, who was still within what was the beginning of what may have been contractions, Niragi’s eyes trailing over her entire body. How the hell did he not know she was-

“ Move aside. I’ll carry her.” A gruff voice cuts him out of Niragi’s frenzied stare, eyes snapping up to Aguni now standing there, holding a sizable cage with both hands on the handle. “ You three, head to the infirmary and prepare for the babies when they come.”

Ann and Sakurada both nod, and they leave the scene immediately, Tatta muttering something as he stares at the scene before going away to follow the other two. Niragi remains by his cat, Aguni opening the metal door and setting it on the ground. There was a blanket draped over the cage, acting as a safe zone for Catra to be inside and not have to be stared at. Niragi wouldn’t want anyone to look at his cat in such a state anyways, but multiple people have already seen it. “ Help me get her in, Niragi.” Aguni orders, coming over to the soon to be mother, Catra grunting as her body tried again to expel the babies within her. Niragi does as Aguni asks, more trusting of him than the other two blackberry and blueberry muffin fucks that Sakurada brought with him. Once she was safely secure in the cage, Aguni carefully shuts and covers the cage, picking it up by the handle with little strain seen on his face. He wordlessly leaves, Niragi scrambling up and following after Aguni. He didn’t want to be left out of this, especially when it was his pet they were dealing with here.

Fanta barks and obediently follows after, and they all make it to the infirmary, Aguni only being able to briefly walk in. Niragi tried as well, but Ann suddenly came up to the both of them as soon as Aguni set the cage down in the infirmary, which only had a few lamps on, the rest of the room dimmed. She starts to push them out, Niragi snarling and grabbing her arm harshly.

“ Oi! What’s the big fucking idea!?” Niragi snaps, Ann keeping her neutral expression as she pushes the men out of the room.

“ I’m sorry, but I can’t have you do something to stress the mother out-“ “ I’m her owner!” “ And Aguni, while I do not doubt you, I would still rather keep the people in here minimal to avoid stress. Tatta is to remain with me in case something happens, and to act as a second pair of eyes.” She explains briefly, and she steps away, quickly drags out Sakurada out as well, who gets no explanation at that point, but Sakurada had likely already heard it, Ann shutting the door and leaving the three out there. Fanta barks, stepping over to Sakurada and barking, tail slowly wagging. He bends down to pet the dog, Niragi sucking in a breath through his teeth.

He can’t believe it. His Catra, his lynx was going to be a mother. He doesn’t even know how she even became pregnant, or how long she’s been pregnant. Catra didn’t even seem to show that many signs of being pregnant at all, acting as she usually did each day. Niragi was going to see her babies.

Oh goodness, does that mean he’s now the cat dad for a bunch of defenceless babies? He didn’t want the babies to get hurt, especially here. Niragi was glad animals had been held to different standards here in the Borderlands, otherwise he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. How many babies were there even going to be? He doesn’t know that much about lynxes outside of the basic that has kept Catra alive all this time- Oh fuck, has he been feeding her correctly? What if one of the babies came out wrong because of him? Oh goodness he didn’t think he’d be able to get over that- Would Catra get complications? He’s heard of complications during birth, and even the infirmary didn’t have nearly enough supplies to handle this- The lighthouse bitch wasn’t even a vet-

“ -Hey! Hey Niragi, hey calm down there buddy! You’re breathing too quickly, everything is gonna be just fine- Here, have some Fanta love-“ Sakurada’s voice cuts through tumbling thoughts, and a wet tongue drags along his cheek, Niragi jolting and instinctively moving to push away whatever the hell even touched him. His eyes focus immediately to golden brown fur and a snout, Fanta barking and blepping at him.

“ Don’t worry Niragi, she’ll be fine! Catra is a fighter!” Sakurada chirps with a reassuring and lopsided smile, Niragi grumbling and aggressively trying to scrub away dog slime off his face with a sleeve. Sakurada continues to smile, and Niragi glares at him, Fanta happily licking him again and making Niragi recoil.

He doesn’t know how long they were standing out there. Niragi didn’t want to leave, especially since his cat was in there with the weird organ poker and the dumb puppy Ratatouille thing. He really wanted to burst in there to check on her, whether they even dared to hurt his lynx, but Aguni’s pointed stare at him every so often was the only thing keeping him waiting. Sakurada stayed as well, petting his dog and occasionally ringing up a conversation to keep the other two occupied.

Niragi was checked out of the conversation anyways, and he spots someone slowly ambling down the halls, Niragi immediately tensing and squinting at the approaching figure. “ Oh! Last Boss! Glad you can join us!” Sakurada greets the moment the tattooed man gets closer, Cabot popping out from his hoodie, even though it was firmly resting on his head, making him seem to have just grown a second head. Last Boss says nothing, just staring at all of them. Niragi continues to squint at him, and Last Boss finally settles on staring back, not even blinking. “ The fuck are you doing here.”

“…. I heard Catra was giving birth.” Niragi stares at Last Boss with furrowed eyes. “ How the hell did you find out.” Last Boss’s gaze moves away, and Niragi follows it to Aguni, who looks at the ground instead, his face showing partial guilt. Niragi storms over to Aguni, silently demanding answers. “ I needed something to carry her somehow, so I asked him for help.” The man answers moments after Niragi came over glaring. Niragi groans, rolling his eyes. Of course he did. Well, no matter. Last Boss was at least tolerable in his eyes. He didn’t mind all too much if Last Boss found out, the man didn’t make a big deal out of anything.

He turns back to Last Boss, who hasn’t even moved, Cabot peeking out of his hoodie. Fanta was at Last Boss’ feet, tail wagging and excitedly barking, Sakurada trying (and failing) to gently guide him away. Niragi thought about asking something, and he knew Last Boss would have an answer, since he was the same person that made sure Niragi knew how to keep her comfortable here at the Beach.

“ Hey, any uh…. any clue on the state of the babies? Like…. how many we talking about here- Possibly.” Niragi asks, Last Boss blinking. He says nothing, but Niragi can tell gears were turning in his naked graffiti head. Finally, Last Boss answers, almost like he was just reading off of something from the internet.

“ They’re usually born in small spaces so that the mother can easily protect them, such as logs, stumps, and even holes within the ground, just as long as it can keep them together and warm. Catra may have between two to three, but she may have less or even up to eight.” Sakurada lets out an impressed whistle, Niragi nodding with focused energy in his eyes. “ They’ll be fed for a few months, but can eat meat at a fairly early age, when Catra thinks they’re capable of it.”

“ Okay…. That’s all?” “ Mostly. They’ll stick around for a while too, so be prepared.” Last Boss says, just as the doors open, Tatta sticking his head out with a pleased smile. “ Hey guys, they’re here~” Tatta’s voice was quiet but obviously excited, Niragi pushing his way in without a second thought to get to Catra and see the babies. Ann was by the cage, and she presses a finger up to her lips, the quiet mewls of babies making Niragi feel a sense of warmth and giddiness in his soul. He carefully kneels besides the cage, others following suit at a respectable distance from the newly made mother, Sakurada gasping like a parent seeing their own baby for the first time. “ They’re so mini…..” He mutters, the others all nodding with Sakurada. Catra was busy licking at a small dark coloured bean, the babies all bumbling their way to Catra’s teats to suckle on their needed colostrum. Henry was on her head, the squirrel sitting there and messing with her ear in what seemed to be an enjoyable manner, Catra completely relaxed. Fanta and Cabot were quiet, apparently aware of the quiet the mother needed at the moment as she bonded with her newly crafted children.

“ Congrats, you’re a cat dad to a lot more cats now.” Tatta whispers, Niragi’s eyes completely on the babies. They were so innocent and helpless….. He needed to make sure they were protected, especially when they were his own cat’s children. He has a duty to protect the cuties.

“ How many are there, Ann?” Sakurada asks, and Niragi was already starting to count before Ann spoke a word.

“ Five wonderful babies. Three males, two females.” Ann tells them, her eyes traveling to the cage that acted as a safe cave. “ All healthy, as far as I know. I’m not a veterinarian, so I can’t be positive, but nothing is outwardly off about them. She’ll be fine.” Niragi silently nods, thinking of nothing but of Catra and her new children.

“ I’ll protect you guys, I swear….” Niragi mutters, near inaudible to everyone except himself. “ I’ll protect all of you. With your strong momma on your side, nothing will get you. Nothing.”

[anarcoqueer1994]

4th of July, 1932

It was Steve's 14th birthday, not that anyone would remember, not when he shared a birthday with America's number one day to blow up things. Sarah even had to work today, regretfully telling him they would have a little birthday dinner tomorrow. She gives him a plate of deviled eggs to bring down. He doesn't give her trouble, he knows his ma has to work any shift she could get to support them. He'd bring in a little doing free lance drawing in the park, but not nearly enough.

Anyhow, the neighborhood was having a block party for the holiday, so he decided to go down and enjoy, knowing Bucky would be there. In fact, when he opened his door to head out, Bucky was already on his steps waiting for him.

"Happy Birthday, Stevie!" Bucky smiles at him before pulling him into a big hug, carefully maneuvering as to not drop the eggs. Usually this would be fine, he and Bucky hugged all the time. But Bucky turned fifteen a few months back and had had that growth spurt, putting him almost 8 inches taller than his friend. That's when Steve started to realize that he may like Bucky more than a friend, spending countless nights praying to God to fix him, to make that feeling go away.

But when Bucky hugged him, all those feelings flooded back in as usual, prayer not working. He wanted to pull away, remind Bucky that guys their age aren't supposed to be that affectionate with each other(at least that's what Mr. Barnes had said), but he didn't. He just leaned into it for as long as Bucky wanted.

When the hug finally did break, Bucky was beaming at his friend. "So ready to get down there? Mrs. Horvat made hot dogs, and I don't trust there to be too many for long."

The golden haired boy couldn't help but smile back drawn in by warmth radiating from his best friend. "Sure thing, Buck. I'm ready." Bucky throws his arm around his shoulder as they walk down together.

When they get to the festivities, Steve drops his plate off at a big table(actually crates with some old boards laid across them) on the side walk. They walk around, enjoying the day, gorging themselves on food. Steve notices that Bucky's arm barely leaves his shoulder the entire day. The increased height difference though, made him more conscious of it. It felt like Bucky was pulling him, closer than usual. But he couldn't find it in him to complain.

Unfortunately, Steve isn't the only one who noticed how close the boys are. Walking past a group of women, some being mom's of a lot of the guys they had gone to school with(both having dropped out to help their parents back home, who needed more than an 8th grade education anyways?) Steve heard one whisper to another "Do you think their mothers know?" The other replies "Seriously, boys that age shouldn't be so cozy..."

Steve could feel his cheeks going pink, self conscious as they keep walking. He pulls away from Bucky. Bucky for his part looks...sad, like Steve had hurt him by suddenly pulling away. He has been wrapped up in telling Steve about some pulp novel he had swiped the other day and was reading, he hadn't heard the comments.

"What is it, Stevie? Are you okay?" Worry coats Bucky's features.

"Uh...yeah Buck, just um...guys out age can't act like that, don't, um want anyone to think we are pansy's." Steve tries not to look hurt by his own words but is impossible when Bucky looks like he just got kicked in the stomach.

But he recovers, flashing a fake smile to his friend. "Yea...I guess you're right, Steve."

Steve decides to leave it at that even though he's known Bucky long enough to know his friend's feelings are hurt. They continue to walk the streets, conscious not to touch each other. Unfortunately this isn't enough for some of their ex-classmates.

A group of them sat on some front porch steps of a brownstone. There were a couple of guys and few dames, all who had been in school with the two boys. As they walked by, a boy, Danny Vesely, whispered something into a pretty little redhead's, Mary Anne Smith, ear, pointing at Steve and then to Bucky. Steve knows he should keep his mouth shut, but when he pointed at Bucky, it became personal. But before he can say something, Bucky is already in action. He had seen them point at Steve.

"What's so funny, Danny?" He snaps at the boy making the comment.

"Nothing Barnes, just commenting how cute you and your best girl look."

Steve turns red, looking at the ground. Steve knew he didn't look as strong or manly as other boys his age, his ma assuring him he was just a late bloomer. That didn't make it feel any better when he would be called a girl.

He can feel heat radiating of his friend, anger surging through him. Steve may be embarrassed but he looks up again, ready to back his friend up if their is a fight, putting on a tough face.

Bucky shoots back "You better shut your ugly mug!" Bucky looks ready to kill, hating that Danny is trying to humiliate him.... humiliate Steve.

"Calm down, Barnes. It's nice that you are defending you girlfriend's honor and all but you are being a little dramatic." Danny smirks. "I guess my big brother was right, all you guys who are light in the loafers are so dramatic."

Mary Anne and few of the other kids sitting there chime in in a sing-songy voice. "Bucky and Steve sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Now Bucky is red as the girls start to giggle. Bucky knows he can't hit girls, but Danny and the three other boys laughing are fair game. He steps closer and before Danny can react, his fist makes contact with Danny's nose, causing it to bleed. One of his friends steps up to retaliate, but Steve steps between him and Bucky and by some grace of god actually lands a pretty hard punch in the face. But Bucky sees this and knows that the two other guys will soon be coming to back up their friends. He understands they will be out numbered and refuses to let Steve get hurt.

Without out thinking, he grabs Steve's hand, pulling him away from the group. They run until the others stop chasing them, hiding in an alley, and then...Steve laughs. The adrenaline of the fight and running away from guys together, felt good. Honestly doing anything with Bucky felt good. He feels silly for pulling away from Bucky earlier. Bucky smiles, because of course he does. Those mean words didn't mean anything, really, as long as his Steve was happy and smiling.

Darkness is starting to fall, and the fireworks show over the water was supposed to start soon. As they stood in the alley, still holding hands, Bucky spots a fire escape ladder. "Hey Stevie?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" Bucky asks plainly.

"Don't be stupid, Buck. Of course I trust you, punk." Steve replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world. Steve can't think of a single person he has ever trusted more than his best friend from preactically the day he was born. Their mother's had been friends and Bucky, who was a who was a whole 16 months older, wanted to hold "the baby" all the time. It was "his baby," Of course not realizing he was a baby himself, but as he got older, he never stopped wanting to hold "his baby," even if Steve was too dense to realize that.

Bucky drags him to the fire escape. "Follow me,Jerk." He smiles and of course Steve does follow him, They make it the top, until they are on tha roof. "What are we doing up here?" Steve questions.

"Watching the fireworks." Bucky replies simply with a smile that Steve can't help but mirror back. Bucky hesitantly takes Steve's hand again, and when Steve doesn't pull away, he laces his fingers with his friends, taking him to a spot on the roof that seemed clean enough to sit.

They wait for the fireworks, and when they finally start, Steve can only focus on Bucky and the way his face lights ups as the colors explode in the sky. He isn't sure what compels him to do this, but he rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. He feels the brunette tense for a moment, before he wraps his arm around Steve's shoulder.

He whispers softly "Hey Stevie?"

"Yea?" Steve's voice equally as quiet.

"Did you know that these fireworks aren't for the Fourth of July? Who cares about a dusty old country anyways? They are for you to celebrate the birthday of the best fella in the world." Bucky says in a matter-of-fact manner, you would be forgiven for thinking he actually believes this.

But he has been saying this to Steve every year since he learned to talk, so Steve was expecting this. It still didn't change the way Steve ended up blushing, this year feeling like there was more weight behind his words. "Thanks, Buck..."

"Don't thank me, it's true." Bucky insists before continuing. "One more question, Stevie."

"Shoot." Steve responds, head still firmly planted on Bucky's shoulder.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Bucky asks plainly, but Steve could feel Bucky's hand lazily stroking his shoulder.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He know what he wants...and he figured after the events of today, he could ask. If Bucky is repulsed, he can play it off like a joke. In a voice almost too small to be audible, Steve answers "A kiss..."

Bucky's hand stills on Steve's shoulder before pulling away. Steve begins to panic, lifting his head off of Bucky's shoulder. He starts to make up a lie in his head, to brush this off, and never talk about it again. But when he looks up at Bucky, he had adjusted so he was sitting in front of Steve now, smiling. He softly replies "Okay." And Steve feels like his heart will beat right out of his chest and fly away. He wonders if Bucky would catch it for him.

His hands go clammy as he is watching Bucky lean in, slowly, almost too slowly. Steve closes his eyes, nervously leaning to meet Bucky, and their lips connect and it's better than the fireworks going off around them. It's chaste, and awkward, the awkwardness of a first kiss for both of them but unbelievably sweet.

When they pull away, both are smiling contently. Bucky takes his place back next to Steve, wrapping both arms around him now, threatening to never let him go. As they watch the rest of the show, he says "Happy Birthday, Stevie."

[itmeansofthesea]

Moving Day

Well this one got me all in my feelings. This was supposed to be lighter and funnier and somehow it got away from me. Instead it's this beautiful thing?? Maybe I'll try to write a funnier version later, but thanks to @dobega for reminding me of the domesticity conversation that led to the end. Any longer and I would have to make this a series, but if that's something you're interested in I think I could swing it. Enjoy, y'all.

Warnings: like one curse word? I think that's it... It's also overwhelmingly sweet imo so just be ready for that.

Had Charles Vane known that becoming ally/friends with James Flint would involve helping him, his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s wife (his girlfriend?) move into their new house, he might have just gone ahead, taken the warship and let Peter Ashe hang Flint and be done with. Not really, but… maybe?

He honestly isn’t even really sure how he got roped into this. It was a couple of weeks ago when he, Jack, Anne, Max, Flint, Thomas, and Miranda were all sitting at a table upstairs in the brothel having dinner. Billy was out showing Abigail around Nassau and Mr.s Gates and De Groot were just trying to get a moment’s peace at some smaller tavern at the other end of town. Silver and Madi were out having some sort of alone dinner thing (Jack had called it a “date” and then called Charles a “heathen with no sense of romance”), and this all left the motley crew to sit around with whatever the brothel’s cook had dreamed up and a metric ton of ale to wash it down.

Charles didn’t fully understand the situation Flint had with the Hamiltons, but whatever it was clearly made Flint happier than Charles had ever seen him. He was all smiles and laughter and joy. It warmed Charles’s heart (just a bit) to see his friend so happy, because they certainly had become friends. He mentally joked about leaving Flint to hang, but to be honest it would be difficult to imagine his life without the people sitting around the table with him now. At least, it would be difficult to imagine something resembling a happy life.

They’d stopped to refuel in Savannah after Charlestown and somehow or another word got to Flint about a plantation full of the disgraced sons of London’s elite that were now more or less enslaved in the prison colony. If there was one thing Charles was always down to do (and there were many things he was always down to do), it was hunt down a slave master and free people from bondage. They’d split when they got to the plantation- Charles after the master of the house and James off to find Thomas. Finding Mr. Smith hadn’t been difficult and dispatching him was even easier. Once that was finished, Charles made his way outside to find Flint in the arms of another, taller man and both of them appeared to be weeping. He felt like an intruder watching them, so he busied himself with checking the plantation for anyone else who may need to be released. When they made it back to the ship, Miranda leapt on the man who Charles realized must be Thomas, and after a minute of holding on to him she grabbed Flint into their embrace.

In time all of the introductions were made, and suddenly the Charles/Anne/Jack crew expanded to the Charles/Anne/Max/Jack crew and the Charles/James friendship expanded to include Charles/James/Thomas/Miranda. They also intercepted Abigail Ashe on the way, and James and the Hamiltons promptly adopted her on the spot. She and Charles had some reacquainting to do outside of Eleanor Guthrie’s influence, but he at least thought they were making progress. She didn’t seem nearly as terrified as she’d been of him when she followed Eleanor through the gate, so that was something.

Fast forward a few weeks and here they all were finishing their chicken and ale when Jack began asking about where the Flint/Hamilton/Ashe family intended to live. Miranda’s house was too small now that they had Abigail, and Billy had attached himself to Abigail as an older brother figure so usually where one of them was, the both of them were. Of course with Billy came Mr. Gates as his surrogate father, and while they’d made it work for the last couple of months, everyone was feeling a bit cramped.

Jack and Max volunteered to host them at the brothel, but they politely declined. Charles half considered offering to let them stay at the fort, but figured that may not be the best idea considering they also had Abigail to consider. Not that he couldn’t keep his men under control, but he also knew that she had memories of that fort that she may not want to be surrounded by all the time. He certainly knew that was the case for him, and yet he stayed… for some reason. Maybe he should take Jack up on the offer to move into the brothel…

Thomas mentioned that they’d been asking around and found a house a bit more inland from Miranda’s that had been abandoned for the last several years. It would take a bit of fixing up, but they planned to go ahead and move in and then work on it as they lived there. Before Charles fully knew what was happening, Jack had volunteered Charles, Anne, himself, and Max to all help them move with the added bonus that he and Max would help with the decorating if Miranda so desired their assistance. Max enthusiastically agreed and elbowed Anne in the side prompting her to shrug a shoulder in agreement. Jack looked at Charles with those wide puppy-dog eyes and before Charles even knew what he was saying he’d agreed to help. The look on the Flint/Hamilton’s faces almost made it worth it.

At the time.

That was then.

Now it’s moving day. What on earth had they gotten themselves into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Charles and company arrived at Miranda’s house early the next day, one cart was packed and Thomas, Billy, and James were in the process of loading another one. It was decided that they would stay behind and the Ranger crew plus Max would go with Miranda and Abigail and get things unloaded. Mr. Gates was out helping Mr. De Groot careen the ship again since the last time was a bit of a disaster.

The moving crew pulled up to a slightly rundown looking two story house with columns on the porch and an overgrown garden to the side. Miranda smiled and squeezed Abigail around the shoulders before jumping off the cart to start unloading. Abigail took the key to the front door and unlocked it, but had a little trouble pushing it open since the summer heat made the wood swell in the jamb. Jack went to help her push it open while Charles and the others started getting things off the cart.

“Just put everything in the front for now, we’ll get it sorted later,” Miranda instructed as she pulled a crate of books from the back. She passed it to Charles who noticed the copy of Reflections by Marcus Aurelius on the top. He recognized it from a conversation he’d had with Flint on the way to the plantation. That was his and Thomas’s book, the one object that kept them tethered together to all this time. Flint’s book with Miranda was Don Quixote, which he also noticed on top of the stack. It’s not that Charles couldn’t read (Teach made sure he could), it had just never been particularly useful to him. You don’t have to know how to read to split logs, haul rope, navigate the stars, or fight the English Navy. Besides, he’d never really had the time to sit down and rest long enough to read. Maybe he should change that. He set the books down to the left of the open door and went back out for more stuff.

Max and Anne pulled down a trunk of clothes and carried it into the house together. Charles volunteered to switch with them, but he was told in no uncertain terms that they could handle it themselves thank you very much, so he left them to it. He passed Miranda and Abigail carrying small crates of what appeared to be dishes. Porcelain. Hadn’t he and Flint had that conversation just a few days ago? About how fragile porcelain and books were, and how fragile a civilized life was, and how it all came down to capitulation and letting society numb you into obedience? Now he was willingly helping Flint settle into that obedience. Is that something a real friend should do? Charles wasn’t sure, so he jumped into the back of the cart, pushed a trunk to the edge, and hauled it out of the back of the cart to take inside.

Miranda stood in the foyer with her hands on her hips trying to put together what each room should be when the furniture arrived. Charles motioned to the trunks on the floor and at Jack who was just standing there in slack jawed awe.

“Would you like us to move these upstairs?”

Miranda turned and smiled up at him. “Sure, thank you, Charles.”

“Jack, let’s go.” Charles barked and jerked his head toward the trunks.

“You can’t honestly expect me to be able to help you carry that upstairs.” Jack raised an eyebrow and looked at Charles like he’d lost his mind. Charles scowled and opened his mouth to reply when suddenly-

“Good thing we got here in time then,” Flint’s voice sounded amused coming from behind him, and he turned just in time to see Billy and Thomas carrying in a table. Miranda’s smile widened as she directed them to the right and Flint walked over to Charles to help with the trunk.

“My hero,” Jack cooed jokingly at Flint before catching Charles’s eye and backing away. “Yes, yes, I know. Fuck you, Jack. I’ll let you save your breath.” Jack raised his hands and walked away to follow Miranda and see if he could start setting the table or something.

Charles just rolled his eyes and grabbed his end of the trunk.

“On 3?” James asked. Charles nodded. “1, 2, 3,” James counted off and they both lifted at the same time. It was heavy, even for the two of them.

“The fuck’s in this thing?” Charles grunted as he started backwards up the stairs.

“I think these are Abigail’s… From what I understand, women’s clothes are far more complex than ours,” James laughed.

“Not here, they aren’t…” Charles thought back to Eleanor’s outfits, but also realized that Abigail and Miranda were nothing like Eleanor, therefore they would likely be dressed more like Max, in which case it made sense. Thank God they weren’t like Eleanor. Nassau couldn’t handle another one.

“So, if you can’t understand why a man would want domesticity, why are you helping four of them move into a house?” James looked amused, and Charles honestly wasn’t even sure he had an answer.

“I still don’t understand it. To the left,” Charles moved to get his back to the doorway and James moved with him. “However,” they set the trunk down inside the room and straightened. “I think I am starting to understand wanting peace.” He sighed. “And I don’t know, maybe I do understand it. I tried to tell Eleanor that we could take part of the gold and settle down, have a life, a couple of kids… but she would never have that. I told myself that wasn’t me wanting domesticity, that was wanting someone else to depend on me, but…” he took a deep breath and walked out onto the landing where he could see Jack and Anne below him. James wordlessly followed. “Maybe I’ve had other people depending on me for a long time. Actually, I know I have. It’s why Jack wouldn’t come with me when I left with Teach- he didn’t want to have to depend on me when he’d built something of his own here. I didn’t expect that to hurt as much as it did.”

“But it did,” James whispered beside him.

“It did. I guess because I was hoping that our friendship would be enough for him to come with me, but in the end his need for independence won out. I can’t blame him, especially after all the shit I put him through with Eleanor-”

“Excuse you, you both put us all through that,” James smirked and bumped Charles’s shoulder. He earned a grunt in response. James just chuckled and noted the small grin gracing Charles’s face out of the corner of his eye. James knew at one point that comment would likely have resulted at him having a knife in his face. He was thankful they’d progressed past that.

“Anyway,” Charles emphasized the word, “seeing you with Miranda and Thomas, and even adopting Abigail. It seems peaceful. Maybe that’s part of domesticity, maybe it isn’t, but either way, it looks nice. It’s not something I can have in that fort probably, but…” he trailed off.

James waited a beat before asking, “what?”

“I am happy that it’s working out this way for you,” Charles whispered. “If anyone deserves all of this, you do. You all do,” he ignored the water welling up in his eyes as he put a hand over Flint’s over the railing.

Flint didn’t even bother ignoring his tears. He just let them go as he watched his family make their home together for the first time in a way that included all of them from the very beginning. He whispered, “thank you. So do you, you know?”

Charles chuckled humorlessly and swiped a hand across his face.

“I’m serious,” James looked at Charles who turned his head in response. “They are my family, but you are now, too. You don’t show up to save my life from the man who ruined my life, help me blow a port city to hell, kill its governor, and then stop me from murdering Jack Rackham for taking the Urca gold I’d been after for years without earning the title of brother. Even if you did steal my ship first.” James smirked and bumped Charles’s shoulder again.

“Yeah… I’m not sorry about that.” Charles shook his head and laughed.

“Wouldn’t expect you to be,” James chuckled, “brother.”

Charles looked at his family and back at James. “Brother.”

[obxfics]

The Kitchen

summary: as you look for your cousin, you end up enlisting the help of someone with whom you share a mutual dislike

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 1,951

a/n: second pogue fic for choose your own adventure! it has been so long since i updated this series i am so sorry!! i tried to make this different from john b’s part because i dont want every part to seem too similar. once again i’m planning on a part two for jj like with john b! i hope y’all enjoy!

Introduction       The Dock

Masterlist    Taglist

“I’m checking the kitchen!” you called over your shoulder as you ran back into the club.

Jaime was known to eat everything so it wouldn’t surprise you if he tried to sneak into the kitchen to manipulate some poor busboy into giving him food with that angelic face of his. It worked every time on your parents and your mother’s parents, and they weren’t even his grandparents!

You rounded a corner and slowed your pace as you entered the dining room, making a beeline for the kitchen’s swinging doors. Just as you passed the bar and were about to push open the doors, someone stepped in front of you to block your path. Looking up, you found yourself meeting the cerulean gaze of JJ Maybank. Your heart leapt into your throat as you glared up at him. He didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him, but damn he was pretty. He matched your glare and cleared his throat.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked as he put his hands on his hips. “Employees only, sweetheart.”

You scoffed and attempted to glance around him to see if you could catch a glimpse of your baby cousin. JJ quickly moved to block your view every time.

“Hey, would you stop?” He placed his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place. “Why do you want to stick your nose in there anyways?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Since he wasn’t going to be letting you step foot in there, you would unfortunately have to enlist his help.

“Did you see a little boy run in there?” you asked as you raised your hand to your waist. “He’s about this tall, curly dark hair, cute little dimples?”

JJ stared at you like you had lost your goddamn mind. You rolled your eyes again and shrugged off his hands, determined to get around him if he wasn’t going to help.

“Whoa, easy, you still can’t go in there,” he huffed as he once again moved to stop you. “Sorry, but I haven’t seen any kids around here. Your kind usually have them at the kids camp by the golf course.”

His eyebrows furrowed when he saw the way you ran a hand down your face. He could tell you were stressed, and suddenly Kie’s voice was whispering in his brain that he needed to stop being an asshole and help you or she would kick his ass.

“This kid you’re looking for, how old is he?”

“Six,” you replied. “He’s my little cousin. Jaime.”

“Hey.” He waited until you met his gaze and then offered you a small smile. “I still can’t let you inside, but I can go in and look. Ask the others if they’ve seen him. Is that okay?”

He could see the exact moment you processed his offer because he literally saw some of the stress in your shoulders leave your body. A smile tugged at your lips and you nodded gratefully. JJ was struck with the realization that you had never actually smiled at him before. Not that he could recall. He could see why Kie liked to hang around with you. When you weren’t glaring at him like he’d personally ruined your entire day, your smile actually filled him with a warm feeling that spread from his belly. Kinda like laying out in the sun on the HMS Pogue.

“That would be great, JJ,” you answered in a soft voice. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, and he stepped back into the kitchen, scanning the place for the curly haired boy you had described. Sounded like a sweet kid, and if he was related to you, he had to be cute. JJ approached one of the other waiters on his break.

“Hey, bro, you seen a kid around here?” he asked, watching as the poor guy tried to chew and swallow his lunch. “Super small, probably super cute too, I’m not sure. Goes by the name Jaime. His cousin is looking for him.”

Finally his coworker managed to choke down the food and took a quick sip of water before answering, “Check with Anne. I think I saw her take some kid into the office a while ago.”

JJ sighed in relief and smiled. “Thanks, bro. Enjoy your lunch.”

He hurried over to the office where Anne, his boss, usually took her breaks. She was a fair boss, letting JJ take home any leftovers from his shift and checking in if he ever showed up late. It didn’t surprise that she would take in a little kid lost in the kitchen. He knocked on the door before poking his head in. A grin grew on his face when he saw the boy with curly hair and dimpled cheeks sitting in one of the chairs with his little feet swinging.

“Anything I can help you with, JJ?” Anne asked as she looked up.

“Just came to snag the kiddo,” he replied. “His cousin is looking for him. Tried to break into the kitchens to find him,” he joked.

The boy looked over his shoulder at JJ, and the blonde surfer swore he melted at the sight of the dimpled smile that was so much like yours. What was in your gene pool that it produced such warm smiles? JJ blinked and smiled at the kid.

“C’mon, your cousin is worried sick, kiddo.”

Jaime slid off the chair and waved to Anne. “Thank you, Miss Anne!”

“Anytime, little one,” she promised, giving JJ a look that clearly said do not mention this to anyone. “JJ will make sure you get back to your family safe.”

A small hand slipped into JJ’s, and he wanted to scream. He had never really been good with kids, not that he had gotten many chances to interact with them, but he had to admit, they were adorable. The way they would just put so much trust into people, looking up at him with wide eyes and even wider smiles. He could’ve seen himself as a big brother if things had been different.

“Jaime!”

As soon as JJ swung open the doors, you were running over to sweep your little cousin into a warm hug. JJ felt a strange pang in his chest at the sight of the familial love. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to have that. To have his dad worry as much for him as you worried for Jaime.

“You can’t wander off like that, okay?” you told Jaime as you looked him over for any injuries. “Christian and Diego are still out looking for you. Oh, shit, I should text them!” Your eyes widened when you noticed JJ smirk and heard Jaime giggle. “Okay, wait, do not repeat that word. Your parents will kill me.”

Jaime looked up at JJ as you hurriedly typed a text to your brothers so they knew Jaime was found. The boy giggled and smiled, making JJ realize he was already missing some baby teeth. When did kids usually lose those?

“You work here right?” Jaime asked him.

“That’s right, kiddo. I bring people their food.”

His eyes lit up. “Can I have some?”

JJ almost laughed when he saw the way your head snapped to fix Jaime with a stern look.

“Jaime, you can’t just ask him to bring you food! That’s rude,” you hissed before offering JJ an apologetic look. “Besides, JJ is supposed to be serving other people right now.”

“Actually, as of…” he quickly checked his watch before continuing, “two minutes ago, I’m on break. And I could really go for some fries, what do you think, kiddo?”

He could feel his heart swell when he saw how excited Jaime got at the prospect of French fries, but it was over for him when he caught the look you were giving him. Like you were seeing him for the first time. He could feel his ears getting red and ducked his head, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“If it’s okay with you, of course,” he directed at you.

“I… yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.”

You and Jaime took a seat at a table to wait as JJ disappeared into the kitchen again. Jaime looked around at the dining room and the open windows facing the water on one side and the golf course on the other. He still wasn’t used to all the fancy things on Figure Eight.

“Your friend is nice,” Jaime said.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

As JJ spent his break entertaining your cousin, you couldn’t tear your eyes from the pretty blonde. For the longest time the two of you had barely tolerated each other for Kie’s sake, but today he had gone out of his way to help you. And gone out of his way to spend more time with you and Jaime after he had found the little boy. You had been so sure you had JJ Maybank figured out, but you were seeing that maybe you had it all wrong. He was surprisingly sweet and good with kids, and that was doing things to you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever you would catch his eye, and you would quickly look away hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring.

“My break is almost over,” JJ told you regretfully as Jaime munched on one of the last fries left. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“We have to leave?” Jaime asked with a sad look on his sweet face. “Can we see you again?”

“Yeah I gotta go back to work, but I’ll tell you what,” JJ crouched so he was eye level with Jaime, “I promise that we can hang out again soon. This time when I’m not working. You like surfing?”

“Um… I’ve never tried,” Jaime admitted shyly.

“Hey, then I’ll teach you! That sound good?”

Jaime’s eyes widened, and he practically launched himself at JJ before looking up at you with that puppy dog expression.

“Can I please go surfing with your friend?” he all but begged.

You laughed and shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It’ll give me a break from you giving me heart attacks all the time.”

Jaime let out a squeal and hugged JJ even tighter. JJ let out a quiet gasp and held back the tears that began to form. When was the last time he’d been hugged like this? He couldn’t remember. The little boy pulled back when he heard your brothers call out to you, and he ran over to tell them his exciting news. JJ cleared his throat as he got back up and brushed off his pants. You were giving him that look again, the one that made his ears burn.

“You… you’re something else, Maybank,” you told him before wrapping your arms around him. “Thank you.”

This time he couldn’t help the few tears that escaped him as he returned your hug. You were warm, and he thought he could stay like that his whole goddamn life. You gave him one last squeeze and stepped back, pretending not to notice when he quickly wiped at his cheeks.

“Um, you can ask Kie for my number or I can ask for yours. So you can tell me when you want to teach the little monster.”

“Actually, you, uh… I mean, if you want, you can come too,” he offered, feeling uncharacteristically shy with this shift in your relationship. “I mean, I’d… I’d like it if you came too.”

“Okay. I’ll be looking forward to your text, then.” You surprised him by leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you around, JJ.”

Continue Reading        Start from the beginning

taglist: @obxlife​ @infinityspaceuniverse​ @diverrdown​ @shawnssongs​ @kikifromtheblock​ @stargazingstarkey​ @scandalousfemale​ @pheyward​ @thatjohnd​

[heyyyharry]

Harry asks Bambi to read a book to him (My Girl blurb x In Another Life)

I found this on Patreon and realised I hadn’t posted this on Tumblr. I posted a sneak peek in April and never posted the whole thing and nobody reminded me 🤡 

Word count: 1.5k

Harry is casted for a movie adaptation of a book, but he’s been too busy to read it and the deadline’s tomorrow and he’s exhausted and can’t find the audiobook, so Bambi ends up reading it to him.

.

.

.

“So you haven’t done your homework and now I have to do it?” She dropped the book to her stomach, glaring at him. He was paid to read a book; she wished her job was that interesting.

“I’m playing the main character,” he had explained. “I was supposed to read this during the weekend but I’ve been too busy, and the deadline is tomorrow but I can’t find the audiobook.”

“Then read it yourself. It’s not that long.” Not to brag but she’d read books twice as long in one night. He’d be fine.

“I haven’t slept for almost two days,” he had said. “If I read now, I’ll fall asleep.” It was true, though. He could fall asleep anywhere anytime if he was too tired. It was a gift and a curse at the same time.

Now he was lying on his side, an arm folded under his head, lazy green eyes boring into her as he pouted. “I used to help you with your homework, kid.”

“It’s not even the same thing,” she said, shaking the book above his face. “I have to read all of this tonight. Out loud.”

He flipped onto his stomach and clasped his hands in front of his nose — puppy dog mode activated. “Please, baby, please. I’ll be good," he pleaded. "I’ll do anything you say. Just help me this once.”

“Manipulative.” She weakly slapped his cheek, a smirk tugging at her lips, then she stared at the ceiling and groaned loudly. “Fineeee. I’ll do it.”

“Yay!” He clapped like a seal and drew her closer, kissing her jawline. “Tomorrow I’ll do anything you say. I promise.”

“Psst, I don’t need your promises. You always do everything I say. Often more.”

“Best boyfriend ever.”

She sneered at his own praise and circled her arm, which he lay his head on, around his neck to hold up the book. “This feels like reading a bedtime story to a kid,” she laughed as he nuzzled her chest.

“I’m a kid.” He grinned up at her.

“So you get to call me ‘kid’ every day and when you want to be spoiled you’re suddenly a kid?”

He shushed her with a finger to her lips and said, “Save your voice, baby.”

She shook her head as he snuck a hand under her shirt — his shirt — and cupped her breast. He always did that when he was bored. It didn’t have to be sexual; he simply loved fondling her breasts.

“Start now, Audiobook,” he commanded.

She sighed, flipped the page and cleared her throat as she began. “Chapter 1. The Painting…

“They said in London, you were never far from a museum…”

.

.

.

“Oh my God, I got it, I got it!” Harry grabbed her arm, shaking slightly so she would stop reading and look at him.

She’d thought he’d already read the script. As it turned out, he’d only received the script for the first few scenes. The director wanted the cast to read the actual book and visualised what happened next using their own creativity. Harry would stop her after every chapter to tell her something she’d already figured it out, and she never complained because he looked like an excited puppy.

He glanced up, chin on her arm, giving her a discovering kind of smile. “My guess is that Edward was the one who killed Ann. She’d trusted him but he’d chosen his throne over her. So she put a curse on him so he’d know what it’s like to lose her over and over again. They fall in love in every lifetime, and he never actually has her. He’ll never have her again.” Then, his face turned wondering. “Would you have done that to me back then if you were a witch?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not a witch.”

His lips stretched wide as he pinched her chin. “Answer the question, kid.”

“I wouldn’t.” She shook her head assertively. “Which is why I think you’re wrong. Either Edward wasn’t the one who killed Ann, or she wasn’t the one who put the curse on them, or both. I wouldn’t want to die over and over again for someone who doesn’t love me.”

“But I loved you back then,” he whispered and pressed his nose into her cheek. “I always have.”

“I didn’t know back then, so it didn’t count.” She stuck up her chin, eyes narrowed at him.

He grinned. “That’s why I have to tell you I love you every five minutes to make up for it. I’m romantic as hell but you call me annoying.”

“You’re a little bit annoying,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone. “Annoying people make their girlfriends read a whole book to them.” She shook the book above their faces, which made him cackle.

“You’re not nice to me so don’t expect me to be nice to you.” He tickled her nipple and she smacked his arm, but it was more like a playful push.

“Now shut up so I can continue.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His dimples reappeared.

When they reached half of the book, they took a short break. Harry had to pee and she had to drink water, her throat was itchy as hell. When they returned to the bed and made themselves comfortable – she lied on her back, holding the book above her chest as he curled up next to her, head on her arm – she cleared her throat and started reading again, her voice noticeably croaky.

He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger and tugged gently to get her attention.

“You know the rule, H,” she said without looking at him. “You have to wait for me to finish before you comment.”

“I actually want to say that you don’t have to continue.”

Her gaze jumped to his face. “Are you tired already?” she asked, slightly perplexed.

“No, but you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You’ll have a sore throat tomorrow because of me, babe.”

“Then so be it,” she huffed stubbornly. “I have to know how this ends. We’re not quitters, Harry Edward Styles.”

“You’re not. I am.”

“No, you’re not. My boyfriend is not a quitter.”

He giggled as she leaned down to kiss his forehead before laying her head back so she could continue where they’d left off.

At chapter five, the main characters finally kissed. She and Harry started cheering like they were watching it on the kiss cam at a sporting event.

At chapter seven, she had to stop halfway to release a long frustrated breath. The antagonist Lillie/Emilié kept getting in the way of the main characters. She felt like Emilié could be Ruby in another life; the thought made her skin crawl.

“Edward is an asshole,” Harry scoffed as she flipped the page to chapter eight.

“No, he’s not,” she argued. “He loves her. It was different back then. A prince had to marry a princess.”

“If I were him, I’d grow some balls and run away with Ann.”

She didn’t comment, only gave him a fond smile and continued.

At chapter eight, shit hit the fan. She completely forgot the fact that she was reading the story out loud. She couldn’t look away from the page or stop for a water break even when her throat was achingly dry. She had to know how this ended.

“Holy shit, I was right! I was right!” She jolted upright when the big secret was revealed and accidentally hit Harry’s head with her elbow. He groaned like a sad puppy and she apologised, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

By the time they finished the book, a new day had begun. She gulped her water, put the empty glass on the nightstand and flopped back down on the bed, lying head to head with him. Instead of going to sleep so he wouldn’t look weary on his first day on set, they lay wide awake and discussed the story. They were satisfied with the ending, though Harry felt so bad for the dead character he’d almost cried at that part. Maybe she should stop telling him to watch Game of Thrones.

“One last thing,” she said as he turned off the light. Her eyes were barely used to the dark so she could only feel him snuggle closer to her, almost resting half of his body on top of hers, one hand under her shirt.

“Don’t fall in love with the actress who plays Ann like you did with the character.”

“Bambi.” He shook with quiet laughter. His voice was barely above a whisper as he replied, “I imagined you as Ann. I can’t fall in love with a different face.”

“Then don’t imagine my face when you kiss the fake Ann,” she giggled.

When he hmmmed, she could hear the smirk in his voice. “You know I never imagine your face during my kissing scenes. I only want to feel that magic when I’m really with you.”

Then, it was quiet again; he’d drifted off as soon as he finished. In his sleep, he kept asking if she wanted to run away with him.

[mrmercer13]

Making New Friends - a Manticore Story

Hi all, this is my entry for day 2 of the DMC OC week. Story below the cut.

Lady stood in front of the old hospital, where her mission was supposed to take place. She looked up at it, trying to  get a glimpse through the windows, but it was too dark to make anything out. No surprises there: the place had been abandoned years ago, and only now had some crazy rich guy decided it was worth too much money to be left alone. That was what she was here for, but it wasn’t that simple. Apparently her employer didn’t want to take any risks on this job and had hired a second devil hunter to help out. Lady was tempted to just go in and blow the demons away herself, but her employer had insisted that the two go in as a pair and the reward being offered was too big to risk pissing him off. So she waited, and moments turned to minutes. She’d been waiting there a quarter of an hour before a shadow crept over her and she turned around to see the largest man she’d ever met, burlier than any demon she’d ever come across and unbelievably hairy. Which made the big dumb grin on his face an incredibly bizarre sight.

“Hi! You’re the hunter I’m supposed to be working with, right? Sorry I’m late: I got lost and had to find my way back to somewhere I knew. I’m Leon, what’s your name?” The giant extended a hand and Lady, momentarily stunned by the strange man’s sudden appearance and extreme cheeriness, shook it. “Lady.” She said, after a brief pause. “That’s a fun name, like the dog in that one movie.” “…Sure, whatever. Now come on, we’ve got a job to do.” Lady marched past him and into the hospital, drawing a pistol and switching on the attached tactical light. Leon followed, babbling about how much “fun” the job was going to be and asking inane questions about her. She was used to other devil hunters being cocky, but this was new. This one was…friendly. And dumb. She wasn’t sure she liked it. She tuned out most of it and gave the questions noncommittal answers – though something she couldn’t figure out bothered her when he asked about her rocket launcher – until they found a stairwell and Lady suggested they split up. Lady made her way to the top floor and would check there while Leon would check the ground floor, then they’d meet up in the middle and sweep that floor as a team. Leon agreed and sprinted off, and it was only then that she realised why the rocket launcher comment had bothered her.

“Wait, Leon! Where are your weapons?!” she yelled out, but he had already rounded a corner and didn’t respond. Lady gave an exasperated sigh and walked upstairs: she knew she could take on whatever was here by herself, and if that idiot got himself torn apart it would be his own fault. The guy didn’t even have a light source on him, he was so unprepared. Someone like that was just going to feed whatever demons he came across and make the other hunters’ jobs harder.

The top floor was swarming with demons. They looked a lot like the Hell Prides she and Dante had fought during the Temen-Ni-Gru incident a couple of years ago, but they were taller and seemed to hold themselves steadier: Lady supposed they must have been training themselves after the two kicked their asses so hard back then. Not that they were much trickier to take out: a hail of gunfire tore through them like paper, without any need for Kalina Ann. In just a few minutes she’d cleared out the floor and counted up the red orbs of the fallen demons: she’d need a clear number to figure out how much she was getting paid. She counted fifty demons worth of orbs, a worryingly large amount. It meant there was a commander of some kind nearby, making the place a hotbed of demonic activity: if she wanted the place cleared out, she’d have to take out that commander. It was a shame about Leon, but there was no way an unarmed man could take on something like that. It was as she reached the stairs, however, that she heard a bestial roar from below.

Lady sprinted down the stairs to find the source of the roar. She came down to a large empty ward on the ground floor and saw a pair of vicious-looking demons. One was a lanky skeletal figure with purple tendrils sprawling across its body, holding a pair of what looked to be scythe blades. It was kind of like a Hell Vanguard, but it seemed like they had been training too. She guessed this was the commander. The other, however, was something she hadn’t seen before. It was some kind of massive leonine humanoid, with great wings, horns and a scorpion tail. One of the commander’s blades was embedded in the beast’s chest, which was covered in glowing golden scars.

The lion-thing seemed to laugh – Lady caught a glimpse of row upon row of razor-sharp teeth – before rearing back and slamming into the commander with its horns. This appeared to stun its adversary, which stumbled back as the lion drew back a fist and slammed it forward, the fist seeming to encase itself in rock as it slammed into the commander. The commander flew backward, the tendrils around the blade in its enemy’s chest snapping free as it was launched into the wall behind it.

The commander got back up, the tendrils and blade regrowing, but the lion had already pulled the blade from its chest and was on all-fours now, launching itself towards the commander and laying into it with claws that shone with brilliant light, leaving trails of radiance in the air behind them. The beast slashed and mauled, dodging all incoming blades with lightning-fast reflexes, before it resumed a bipedal position and took what looked to be a genuine combat stance, the kind you’d see a martial artist take. It threw expert punches and kicks, not quite as fast as when it was on all-fours or as strong as when it was impaled on the blade, but with a level of precision and skill that showed that this demon was more than just some raging animal. It struck the softest parts of the commander’s body, winding it and leaving it vulnerable, before lancing forward with its tail and striking the commander in the chest. The stinger at the end of the tail seemed to pulse outward with golden demonic energy, blasting through the commander’s chest and leaving it to fall to the ground and crumble into orbs.

It was then that she saw something unexpected. The lion demon, this ferocious monstrosity that she had just seen demolish a demon commander, started to cheer and dance with joy. “Yeah, I did it! I’m the best!” she heard it yell, and though the voice was distorted and growling, she could still recognise it as the one that had been asking her all those questions just a few minutes ago. Sure enough, there was a golden flash and there stood Leon, that same idiotic grin on his face and looking none the worse for wear. She put a hand to the shotgun at her side, but paused. This was a demon: just a couple of years ago she’d have put a gun shop’s worth of buckshot in his skull without a second thought. But this wasn’t a couple of years ago: her time in Temen-Ni-Gru had shown her that even demons had the potential to be kind, and this one certainly didn’t look like he was planning to hurt any innocents any time soon. Hell, he was taking down monsters that would put innocents in danger. So she stepped away before Leon could see her and went back to the stairs, pretending that she had just gotten there when Leon arrived. She said nothing about what she had seen, just checked that he was okay and carried on with the mission.

There were only a few demons on the middle floor: the pair wiped them out in no time at all. Leon was quieter than before, but still seemed happy as ever as they headed back out and went to report their success. As they were walking, Leon spoke up. “Thanks for not shooting me back there.” Lady stopped, surprised. “Wait, you knew I was there?” Leon shrugged. “I smelled a human nearby, figured it was you.” A pause. “Wait, that was you, right?” Lady couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Yes, that was me. Look, I misjudged you earlier: it’s clear now that you know what you’re doing. I still wish you’d take the job a little more seriously, but it’s not like you’re the only one who doesn’t. I guess I just want to say I’m sorry for being so dismissive earlier.” Leon let out a deep, bellowing laugh. “You don’t have to apologise for anything! We’ve already bonded over fighting demons: that means we’re friends now!” Lady smiled at that. “If you say so. Hey, thinking of friends I do know another hunter who’s also a demon. Well, half demon, but I figure you guys might have something in common. Head down to Devil May Cry some time: he could do with the company.” Leon’s face lit up even more than normal. “Yeah, that sounds great! It’ll be so much fun, like…like...like something that’s really fun!“ Lady smiled to herself as Leon started rattling off ideas for fun activities they could do together. Well, why not? Dante could get pretty lonely sometimes, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Meeting someone that cheery might be good for him. The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful: they reported their success, got their pay and went home. Lady still didn’t know this Leon guy too well, but she was pretty sure that people would be a lot safer with him around.

Author’s note: Manticore got lost on the way to visiting Dante and ended up at Devil May Fry, a poorly-named fried chicken place on the other side of town. He never did end up meeting Dante, but the chicken was nice at least.