#fluffy anon!!

[makenna-made-this]

Okkkkkk so where is Chicken Miku?

Anon the way i dropped everything when i saw this

HATSUNE BEAK-U

(based on the Onagadori chicken breed)

[bunnis-monsters]

Thinking about those slo-motion videos of bees entering and exiting the hives and them just casually bumping into each other all the time. So when you come in the room and the baby bees start swarming you, they're bumping into each other and falling on their little hineys but they're so used to it (and their soft fuzzy bodies handle the fall well anyways). Imagining them crowding you is cute enough but when it's "Mama, mama! *bonk* Mama! *bonk, bonk, bonk* Mama!" X'DD

WHAT that’s so cute!

Just watching your baby bees come flying in, bonking their heads on the walls and nuzzling against you, all trying to crowd around so they can kiss and snuggle with their mama!

They’re so possessive, all getting jealous of the others when it’s not their turn. They’ll fuss and stomp their little feet, ending up bumping into each other and crying!

You try your best, watching your clumsy little babies fly and toddle around. Their chubby and fuzzy bodies allow them to fall and bump into things without being harmed, but that doesn’t mean you don’t worry! They’re your babies after all, and although it’s cute to watch them bonk against each other, shake it off, then fly towards you, it still makes you coo and hold them a little tighter.

They start to notice you fawn over the ones that are a bit more clumsy, and they all start bonking and bumping into things, hitting their little heads for just a bit more attention from their mama!

Getting to nurse and receive your affections and care is all they want! They’ll suckle at your breast and look up at you with their sweet little eyes, wanting you to rock and hold them close to your chest. They just love their mama and your milk and warmth is comforting to their little souls.

Baby bees aren’t little for long, so you treasure and spoil them while you can.

[gomzdrawfr]

Please tell me Ghost gets to pat a cat. He looks like he really wants to pat one, even if it's not Raven. 🥺

[context]

anon don't worry he'll get those pat, just...careful for what you wish for though

[ihatebrainstorm]

for the requests, anything with drift? maybe a bit of dratchet or wreckers era drift :>

Some nappy dratchet o)-(

[serendippertyy]

D2 abstrabbit with Zooble protecting Jax having a panic attack in a corn field :(

zoobie can be a real sweetheart 🫶

[zevrra]

caught in the rain—

synopsis: you and sebastian seek shelter inside an abandoned home where every feeling is laid to bare.

tags: sfw, pure fluff, fem!reader, hogwarts legacy, sebastian sallow(18+), about 3k words

“As if this day couldn’t get any worse,” You mutter. Mostly to yourself but you wouldn’t at all be surprised if Sebastian had heard too. You both had been sent out together to gather some information about some dark magic being practiced on the Poidsear Coast.

Everything had been going smoothly, from taking witness statements to tracking down the dark wizard’s hideout to the coast, even the two of you getting along.

That is until an unexpected heavy downpour comes. Cold rain falls heavy like a thick blanket on the two of you, forcing you to take shelter. Every piece of clothing you wore was soaked—down to your very bones. Thankfully, Sebastian and yourself had managed to find an abandoned home. Boarded up with a more than obvious appearance of not having been taken care of in a very long time.

While you say things could not be worse you really didn’t mean it. Being rained on and forced to wear your freezing clothes wasn’t truly the worst thing in the world. Neither was being stuck in that house with your academic rival. And crush.

“Well. Try not to make it sound so horrible now,” Sebastian sarcastically says. Teasing you as he shrugs off his heavy coat in some hope to warm himself. Rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt as he does anything but look at you. “We could be in some troll’s den. That would be worse.” He chuckles as he checks out the house, hoping to find anything to maybe start a fire with. Swatting away at cobwebs with an annoyed look.

You sigh. Too cold to even defend yourself at the moment. Moving to stand next to a window. Watching as lightning flashes across the sky and the harsh sound of thunder that follows.

“We’ll be here all night if this storm doesn’t stop soon.” You say, irritated. Not that sleeping in some random home, far from the safety of Hogwarts, with no other change of clothes, no warmth, and no bed, didn’t sound fantastic and all but it would also reset all of your progress from today. Tracking down the dark wizard hiding out on this coast had been an assignment given to the two of you and not completing it would leave you both looking rather poorly in your professor's eyes.

“You worry too much,” Sebastian says, cutting into your thoughts, making you look away from the window and towards where his voice had carried from.

You watch as he moves towards the other end of the dark home, Lumos, lighting the tip of his wand as he examines the place. Stairs lead to a second story or perhaps an attic in the farthest corner from the door. Off next to the stairs is a large stone fireplace just waiting to be lit.

“See, always so dramatic.”

You roll your eyes at Sebastian as you follow him into the home. Shoulders tense as you wait for anything to jump out at you. No damn spider was sneaking up on you, not today. In a smaller room straight across from the stairs sits untouched furniture from who knows how long ago. With chairs perfect for disassembling and using as firewood.

Well, at least you’d be semi-warm and somewhat dry for the rest of the time being.

After some rearranging and the use of Incendio, the two of you make quick work of starting a fire and laying out your cloaks before the hearth to dry. Now you are left in just your blouse and skirt, shoes and socks forgotten until they also get the chance to dry as the storm continues to rage outside.

Sebastian stood beside the fireplace, hands held out to try and warm his fingers up. The dull sound of the rain is really the only noise the two of you make. You were friends, classmates, but above all rivals. You could have a civil conversation but seeing as the two of you were there on an assignment, things were tense as both of you wanted to outdo the other.

You shiver, curling up on yourself by pulling your knees to your chest. The fire was working well but the wet clothes still sticking to your body kept you from truly getting to warm up.

“I’m going to go look for a blanket.” Sebastian says, suddenly breaking the silence between the two of you.

You nod in response as he leaves to rummage around the forgotten home. His search for a blanket takes him up the stairs and you watch him go. An eerie feeling creeps up your spine as soon as you‘re left alone. The strange feeling of being watched itches just behind your senses of being cold. It makes you look over your shoulder a few times. That is until Sebastian finally returns.

A thick quilt is draped across your shoulders that startles you ever so slightly. In all honesty, you had thought Sebastian went to retrieve the blanket for himself. Now with the heavy cloth wrapping around your own body you realize that he had been watching you beforehand. He had retrieved the blanket solely for you. The thought makes you flush.

He moves to sit beside you now. Hands returning to hover out in front of the flickering flames. “There’s also a bed upstairs. If you’re tired.” Sebastian once again cuts through the silence to speak.

You laugh at his words. Shaking your head as you tighten the blanket around you. “Tempting but no thank you.” You reply, turning your gaze to the fireplace.

“Why not?” Sebastian asks. From his tone he seems genuinely confused.

His confusion makes you chuckle again. As if he really didn’t know. “Oh alright, Sebastian. Let me just go take a small nap while you run off, find and finish our assignment, and then take all of the credit.” You tease. A smile stretches across your lips as if you’ve caught him in the act.

You imagine he’ll make some funny quip about how you were right and that he was just thinking of a way to get ahead in your studies but instead he says nothing.

The silence has you lifting your head to glance over at the other. His brow is furrowed and there’s a deep frown on his face. Clearly you’ve said something wrong.

“Do you truly think I’m so shallow?” Seb whispers. His voice drips with displeasure.

The disdain in his tone was not something you were used to. Sure, Sebastian had had his moments for being a little irritated with you. From cave crawling and accidentally setting off a trap to the two of you butting-heads for top grades but never had he sounded so…upset and hurt before.

Now it was your turn to truly be confused. You did not think of him as shallow or selfish but you also wouldn’t put it past your rival to take the upper hand on you.

“I don’t find you shallow.” You awkwardly reply. Suddenly you’re thankful for the sound of rain and thunder. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” You add quickly afterwards.

“We may be rivals academically but I’m not your enemy. I’m not evil. I still care for you.” Sebastian says with a sigh. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face. Searching for something you’re not sure of at the moment.

“I apologize,” You mutter. Now would be the perfect time to suddenly disappear. “I simply just thought because of school you would take the opportunity…” You ramble. Wondering why you were even telling Sebastian any of this.

This time, it’s his turn to laugh. It’s a very dry and curt laugh. No humor lingers behind it like it normally would. “I would never sabotage you.”

“No?” You reply short and simple. Wondering why now he would have a soft spot for you. Seeing as he had never before when it involved your academic standpoint.

“What do I have to gain besides you hating me?” Sebastian asks, again genuinely curious. His now warmed hands rub against his cold shoulders and biceps. Hoping to chase away the chill. “I would never want you to hate me.” He adds in a hushed voice.

Listening to Sebastian be so open was definitely something entirely new to you. He was the type to be open about pretty much everything except his feelings. His true, genuine, feelings. And now that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, you couldn’t help but want him to keep talking. “Not that I would ever hate you but would that really be the end of the world?”

Sebastian turns to look at you then. His brown eyes meet your own as the light from the fireplace softly caresses his features. Turns his freckled face into something far more gentle than you’re used to. Yet you weren’t entirely sure if that was because of the dim lighting or the fact that he was looking upon you with such tenderness that it made him look more attractive suddenly.

“To me, yes, it would be.” He admits openly. As if this is something Sebastian said on a daily basis. As if he constantly told you how important you truly were to him.

Upon realizing his confession, Sebastian’s eyes widened. He coughs in an attempt to move the conversation along, or even just to simply cover up the fact that he just told you how horrible the world would be without you. His face flushes a dark red that even in the dim light you can see.

“Only because, well, you know! I wouldn’t have anyone else to compete with!” He stammers, trying to save face.

It’s a little too late for that now though. You knew he meant something a little more meaningful.

You smile as he avoids your line of sight. “Sebastian…” You whisper. His name rolling off your tongue has him freezing in place. Unsure if he should flee and never speak about this ever again or just stay still long enough he can pretend he’s dead. “Be honest.”

Sebastian continues to ignore your gaze for the most part. Fiddling with some interesting looking piece of dust on the rundown wooden floor.

“I don’t know what you mean. I am honest! All the time!” Embarrassingly he answers. “You’re just too dense to see it!” The insult is a hollow insult at best. Just another tactic to avoid the situation he’s started.

You hum in response. Scooting closer to the other to try and get a good look at his blushing face. “How so?”

“N-nothing! No, I don’t know!” Sebastian deflects. Attempting to turn and hide his face from your gaze.

You had never seen him so defensive before. Wanting to close off from you entirely but that was something you would not allow. He started this and he needed to finish it or else you might go mad.

“What do you mean?” You ask. Not that you couldn’t read his body language at the moment but you still wanted him to tell you. To be loud and clear with his feelings so that you too could be honest about your own.

“Ugh!“ He groans in frustration. His hands come up to hide his face from your gaze. Covering over mainly his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at you looking at him. “I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met! You’ve never noticed it before so why are you suddenly so keen!?”

The inside of your stomach does a flip. The first day you two met was almost three years ago. Had you really never noticed any of his advances? You think back on all the times when he’d let you copy his notes when you were busy with Mr. Fig for the day. Of all the times he called you annoying but would do anything you asked of him. The countless hours you two would spend in the undercroft, practicing your spells and studying together.

All this time…and he only ever stayed by your side.

You reach to grab gently ahold of his wrists. Somewhat prying his hands away from his face so you could get another good look at him. He’s a mess. Red as a tomato. Blushing like he had been sick with a fever. Hair tousled and curled far more than usual from previously having been rained on.

Sebastian Sallow, your friend and rival, sat before you entirely and wholeheartedly shy. Something you would never have imagined to happen before this day.

He’s still under your touch. Still attempts at avoiding your eyes even now. Doesn’t stop you from reading over his features. From every freckle highlighted by his blush to the pretty length of his eyelashes. He was so handsome. Far more than you had ever realized before.

“Sebastian,” You whisper in a soft tone. As his name is called, his head shifts ever so slightly as he finally meets your gaze once more. A rush of emotion swirls up inside of you. Your chest tightens with sudden adoration for the man sitting before you.

He doesn’t say anything in response though. Just slowly takes control over his own hands, placing one against your cheek. His fingers run gently across your skin. Pushing back damp hair as he finally wants to look at your face.

“You’re an idiot. A fool,” Sebastian mumbles after a few painstakingly long heartbeats. “How did you not know?” He asks as his thumb caresses the high of your cheekbone. A lighthearted tone to his voice. As if it were obvious.

His words make you laugh ever so slightly. Of course you hadn’t realized it. Too blinded by your competitive drive to know that all along he was only competing in hopes to make you like him. Which was silly in itself. Seeing as you had always liked him too.

“Forgive me for not seeing it before,” You reply with a smile. Reaching to touch the back of his hand lovingly. “I would like to know everything now.” You add as you turn your head to kiss the inside of his palm.

His breath hitches as he watches you kiss his hand. A slight tremble in his shoulders tells you he’s holding back on moving things further. Even as his thumb brushes against your lips, while his brown eyes stare at every curve his thumb traces. Wanting to commit all of you to every bit of his memory.

“You…you’re over dramatic, always worrying about me. Sometimes you’re too loud. You manage to best me at everything.” Sebastian rambles on with a soft laugh. “And I love every bit of it. Your drive, your excitement, the way you laugh. Everything about you…”

Sebastian softens as he continues to stare at you. His eyes flick up from your lips to your eyes before glancing back down at the lips he tenderly touches. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you for far too long…”

The words he speaks makes your heart beat far too fast. With how hard your heart beats and how tight your chest is, you could almost swear your heart might have burst out from beneath your ribcage right then and there.

Your own face softens. Pressing your lips gently into the pad of his thumb. “What are you waiting for?” You ask with a smile. And immediately Sebastian mirrors your smile. Now, nothing was going to hold him back.

For a moment, as he leans forward to capture your lips, you thank the sudden rainstorm. For without it, you would never have ended up here, held so lovingly in Sebastian’s arms.

[sushirrrry]

would love to see a blurb about best friend harry thinking yn’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve her and accidentally confesses his feelings for her

bound a harry styles one-shot blurb; 7.2k words cw: fluff fluff and more fluff

When Harry had booked this trip, there were three things that he was looking forward to.

One of them was the open bar that their friends—the new Mr. and Mrs. Moxley—would be providing to them, which would include a couple gin and tonics too many.

The second was the beachfront room that he had scored from the credit card points he had expertly racked up the past few months, especially for this trip to Barcelona for his friend’s wedding. He thought he had scored a pretty good deal.

The third was seeing Cassidy for a weekend straight.

While the two of them lived in the same city, they were walking different paths at the moment, which had never been them. There were nights that they met for dinner, almost like nothing had changed. But Harry lived in South London; he had been working long nights in the museum, Cassidy was on the opposite side of the city working at her accounting position she had taken recently.

Both hadn’t had each other’s undivided attention in quite some time, and Harry was looking forward to the possibility of having that again. The kind of attention, the kind of laughs and indescribable joy that they had both needed—he was sure of it.

If there was one thing that he knew about Cass, it was that she was sprinting on the plane to get the vacation she had been looking forward to.

Plus, neither of them had a plus-one this time around.

That meant that it was just the two of them, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk every time he thought of it. Undivided attention.

Harry had thrown on a linen suit for the welcome party; the night before the wedding. He had started to unpack his room, trying to pass the time before he knew that Cass would arrive. Once he heard a buzzing on his phone, his head lifted from looking down into his suitcase and towards the device on the duvet.

If there was one thing Harry was going to do on his vacation, it was unpack the entirety of his suitcase before doing anything else.

iddy: smyf

The small acronym ‘show me your fit’ made him smile before he noticed a few more texts rolling in, the dots precursing them on the phone.

iddy: for tonight, not right now. I should have clarified. Please don’t send a pic of your penis

iddy: someone has to make sure I’m not overdressed. How do you dress for a pre-wedding dinner

The panic over the texts was exactly how Harry knew Cassidy; she worried over small things but overlooked the bigger picture. It was a small, miniscule flaw, really.

But before he’s able to even move towards the large mirror in his bathroom, his phone vibrates again. His attention is grabbed by the way that his eyes move over the image that comes in, rather than the words he had been reading from her.

And something about it made him stop in his tracks on his own way to show her what he had looked like.

Something about the way that she held the phone up to the mirror, giving a small pout—a playful one, as if unsure of herself. The way that the wisps of her hair were around her face, but the rest was pulled back by a clip—he was certain of it. She didn’t like having her hair down if she could help it.

Harry swallowed in the comfort of the room, almost like he was trying to keep himself from getting caught in the moment, even when no one was around. His eyes flew over the soft baby blue of the dress, the way that it dipped down, just a bit.

The way that the color danced over her tanned skin; maybe even a bit red from the sun he was certain that she had taken apart in as soon as they hopped off the plane. Harry knew that she bathed in the sun whenever it came out in London; she wouldn’t have gotten burned there, though.

There were dainty cream flower details—maybe stitching, even—on the dress as he zoomed in to get a better look at it.

His thumb cruised over the message, writing out a message before he pressed send.

Harry: good thing you told me not to send you a pic of my penis! Was about to!

Harry: also, you look beautiful, c

He frowned when she sent another message.

iddy: ok but am I overdressed

Harry: no, see

Harry held his phone up to the mirror as she had done to him—as they had done for one another many times before. But something about the way he looked in it bothered him for a moment. He fixed his hair, running his hand through it, almost to make sure that it looked much better than usual. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit before he sent the picture through to her.

The cream suit was opened, a white shirt settled underneath it. He wore a pair of his favorite white sneakers that fit like a glove, even a bit scuffed—but he felt that that balanced the outfit.

When he sent the photo, he waited a moment for Cass to send something back. But it felt like the longer he stared, the more pressure he felt to not see the grey dots coming back on the screen.

He bit the inside of his lip, waiting patiently before he locked the phone and slid it down into his pocket.

Instead of worrying about that, Harry checked his watch to see that it was closing in on six-thirty– which meant that he was fashionably late to the six o’clock time for the dinner.

He spritzed a bit more cologne, checked his teeth in the mirror, and pushed the bunches of curls off of his forehead that he meant to get cleaned up before coming on this trip but simply losing track of time.

He grabbed his wallet– hoping to not lose it or need it– and walked out of the hotel room door, down towards the lobby where he figured everyone would be gathering. He figured he'd take the long way, walking through some groups of people until he saw a grand staircase to lead down into the lobby area.

Harry figured that he would walk that way, down towards the main area where some familiar faces had collected for cocktail hour and drinks. His eyes maneuvered around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cass in any capacity.

Walking down the stairs, he saw Mari and Logan– the bride and groom– and greeted both of them accordingly. Mari and Harry had worked together back at uni, so they had become close friends. There may have been a night or two when Harry and Mari actually went home together, but they chalked that up to some consensual stress release.

When she started dating Logan, they started to hang around everyone more– which then included Cassidy. They would all go out together to the pubs after classes and had become really great friends since then. It was no surprise that this kind of event would bring them all together again.

“Have you guys seen Cass yet?” Harry asked, looking around. “I haven't seen here since she got here. She texted me but didn't get a response.”

Mari looked at him a bit suspiciously before turning to Logan for a moment. “Didn't you guys RSVP together?”

Harry looked up at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“No– I mean, no, I didn't respond with her name or anything. Did she do that for me?” He had thought that he marked one salmon meal and that was it.

Mari bit her lip as she blinked at him a few times. “No, but she RSPV’d a plus one, I think. Or she said something a few months ago– it's a bit fuzzy, but she told me she was coming with someone else. I– I mean, I was certain it would be you.”

Harry’s smile faltered just a bit before he shook his head, the hands in his pockets had turned to fists as he turned to look around him. Wondering if he'd lay eyes on her or watch her holding hands with another guy.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen that before, but the excitement of seeing her for the first time in a while was slowly dwindling before he turned his head for what felt like the millionth time looking for her.

But this time, his vision landed on her. The rosy colored glasses that he saw her threw was starting to dim as the picture got a bit blurry.

The baby blue dress that fell just below her knees, the dip in the front. The silky material hung on her body, but his eyes stood on the hand that hand firmly on her waist as if to keep her tucked into him.

His greatest fears becoming reality as he looked up the girl giggling at a probable reasonable remark.

Cassidy took a break from her schoolgirl giggling to see Mari and Logan standing there, looking at her and the person practically wrapped around her. But when looked up to see that Harry had also been standing right there, a sudden course of fear trembled through her.

Fear was a strong word; worry was more like it.

She had known how Harry was, which is why she kept this a secret from him. Now, he was forced to get to know her boyfriend of three months because they were here on their own accord for a weekend. They would spend it together, having each other in their lives for a weekend. That's what he had requested, and what she could agree to.

He had promised her that– even if he hadn't realized that had included this moment right here, yet.

“Hi, guys!” Cass put on her smile, a gorgeous one that pushed the dimples on her chin forward. “Mari, you look so beautiful!”

The girls wove into a hug, Harry standing and staring at the man who had let Cassidy go– looking a bit as if he was uncomfortable at letting someone else touch her. His eyes stayed on them as Cassidy pulled back and moved onto Logan, congratulating them on the whole marriage thing.

It was like she was taking a moment before she would get to him. She looked at Mari’s ring, gushing about how beautiful it was and she beautiful she looked.

Her eyes reached Harry’s then, a sheepish smile on her face before she pushed her arms out to wrap her arms around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his ribs.

“It's so good to see you.” She commented; he wanted to say something back but the comfort of her made his face retreat into the slot of her shoulder and neck.

When they pulled away, he got a real look at her and gave her the smile she had been waiting to see.

“So glad you're here.” He told her before feeling like a blush had intermittently taken its place in his cheeks.

Their connection had faded a moment before she paused; she took a breath and stepped back before remembering the man who stood behind them.

“Guys, this is–“ She looked up at him, “This is Dalton. We've been seeing each other for a few months, and just thought it would be so good to introduce him here since we're all here.”

Harry had to try to remember to release the fists in his pocket before he would go to shake his hand.

“Dalton, this is Mari and Logan– the bride and groom,” She introduced, letting him shake their hands and give their respective hello’s, followed by congratulations and thanks. But then she turned to Harry, Dalton’s composure changing a moment before he watched Harry’s change too.

Cassidy felt small between them as she stares at the way they faced one another.

“Uh, Dalton, this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is Dalton.”

Harry lets one of the sides of his face turn up in a smile before he reaches out to be the better person. “Best friend, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Cassidy looks at Harry, almost giving him a really?

The grip of the man’s hands together feels tense as Dalton gives him a courtesy, “Nice to meet you, too.”

As Cassidy watches the interaction, she notices that the way that Harry stands is taller and fuller—like he’s trying to prove to Dalton that he’s bigger, he’s better—that he could end him in a moment’s notice, if need be. She holds onto Dalton’s arm, practically pulling the man from his trance with trying to overthrow Harry’s dominance.

“Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She offers, giving Harry another grin before Cassidy and Dalton makes their way over to the bar area.

Harry watches tentatively before he notices that Logan and Mari are also a bit in shock by the interaction and the couth that Cassidy had to bring someone into this sacred space, once again. Harry knew how Cassidy felt most days about herself—she looked for the satisfaction of a partner, the confidence boost that having someone on her arm could bring her.

It was reassuring to Harry to think that she could go into a room by herself; owning the space and knowing who she was. That was what he was hoping for in this interaction, but instead, she had to enter with someone else.

And with that, came the idea that the men that Cassidy picked always had a knack for making her the jealous type. Harry could always tell that her reactions became much more aggressive, her body language becoming possessive.

Cassidy wanted to feel like she was the most special girl in the world, and somehow, Harry was always left picking up the pieces of her tortured, stomped on heart after the last guy had decided that she wasn’t good enough. What the men in Cass’ life failed to see, was that her heart was always borrowed, on loan. It was never theirs to keep, because they never nurtured it or regarded it in any sense.

Her kindness had been taken from granted, her will to give was always overused and spent.

Harry knew that his love for Cassidy ran deeper than the deepest oceans, and wider than the largest forests, but something inside of him knew that they were better off as friends. Maybe it was because she was smart, and he figured she would have figured it out by now; the way he looked at her overruled the way he would ogle art painted on canvas, or sculptures tall and mighty.

He was always there with a rose and a smile, standing outside her door after the last guy packed his belongings and left for good.

It was why watching her happy, standing by the bar without a care in the world broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew that he was always there to rescue her, and he could see by the way that the guy stood away from her—maybe even trying to get a glimpse of the other women around him. But Cassidy’s naivety kept her eyes locked on the man instead, her irises shaped like hearts.

Mari and Logan had started a new conversation with another few people, Harry stood with his hands in his pockets as he tried to figure out a course of action. He had figured that the night would be wasted away—quite literally and figuratively—with Cassidy by his side, but now he felt more alone than he had before.

A man with champagne on a tray walked by, and Harry grabbed two flutes. One for each hand. He downed one quickly before he made his way back to the bar where the two of them had been standing before setting one of the glasses down and keeping the other before he noticed that Cassidy had grabbed a glass of red wine—Cab Sav, most likely.

The man—Dalton—held a short, rocks-glass that just had something clear in it, possibly straight vodka, if he was brave.

“So, you really didn’t bring anyone? Haven’t met anyone yet? You’ve usually grabbed a few asses by now,” Cassidy spoke out, moving around Dalton to get closer to Harry. He turned his attention back to her, shaking his head a few times.

“No—I mean, I thought we were just going to hang out. I didn’t know you were bringing someone.” Harry’s eyes flicked up towards Dalton’s before he watched Cassidy bite her lip. The red on her lips had either been from the stain of the wine or the way she bit on her lip; either way, Harry found it to be enticing enough to stare for a beat too long.

“I—I don’t know, I just assumed you would have brought someone with you. Weren’t you seeing someone?”

Harry took a sip from the flute, shrugging casually, “Yeah. But not like, exclusively.”

Cassidy nodded a few times, raising her brows, “Is it ever exclusive with you?”

There was a teasing tone in her voice, but the way that her eyes lifted to investigate his own only made his stomach drop at the intention. Harry felt an incredible sting through his chest as he cleared his throat, almost to wash away the sensitivity that he felt around his heart.

He went to speak, but his lips didn’t seem to let any words leave. Instead, the bartender interrupted as Harry realized that there may have been a small line forming behind them.

Harry, Cassidy, and Dalton moved to the side a bit—all three having their drinks in their hands before they found themselves in a circle of silence. Each taking sips of their drinks before Dalton seemed to make a move of conversation towards Harry, nodding at him.

“So, what do you do for a living, Harry?” He licked over his lips, a tight smile painted on his face before Harry could respond.

“I’m—uh, I’m an art curator. At a small art gallery in London.”

Cassidy chimed in, “Harry has great taste, actually. He’s put together some really great art expos and exhibits.”

“Hm,” Dalton hummed, “Where is the gallery? My parents host charity galas, and we are on the board at the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery.” He chuckles a bit, “I assume you’re not curating there.”

Harry feels the way that his jaw tightens, almost an innate reaction to the way that the man puts him down. Harry pushes his shoulders back before lifting his head. Cassidy looks to Dalton, speaking on Harry’s behalf.

“N-No, it’s—” But she’s interrupted when Harry speaks, then.

“It’s neither of those, no. It’s a bit more modern, helping to lift unknown artists who are looking to make their way into the conversation, which I think it’s very important. Especially now, our worldview is so mirrored by adding such high value to art that never needed it to begin with—art shouldn’t have value like that, in my opinion.” He felt that his tongue had a bit of venom on it when he took a larger sip of the champagne, practically downing that one, as well.

Dalton nodded. “I see. Well, I assume that amateur art wouldn’t have a value like Michelangelo or Vermeer, would they? But I think it’s presumptuous to say that art doesn’t have value. Everything has a price.”

Cassidy took in a breath before she took a large sip of wine; her eyes went to Harry who almost seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“Most things don’t have a price. Nothing has a price, it’s all relative. We, as a society, added price so people of higher status could act like they were better than other people, when it was all a façade to just make them look a bit fancier with their pretty goldleaf vases and Vermeer’s. A Vermeer painting doesn’t hold value to me, anyways.”

Dalton nodded a few times, giving a mock toast to the man in front of him, before he looked down at Cassidy.

“Yeah, that’s quite obvious. Class isn’t a given, it’s inherited. You should see the types of people that try to get their hands on these gala tickets, as if it’s some sort of carnival they can just attend. Half of them don’t have two quid to rub together, and it’s just embarrassing at that point.”

Harry took a step forward before Cassidy realized that his expression meant one of anger. Her arm pushed him back a bit before Dalton recognized the move and his eyes held a gentle smirk of cockiness.

It sat in Cassidy’s throat as she felt the deflation of her confidence. The weekend she had been looking forward to being was diminished quick before her eyes, and all she could do was count on the glass of wine that hadn’t even really been filled halfway.

“What he means is, being exclusive is an honor, and you of all people should know that, I’m sure.” Her eyes drive up to him, and Harry looks at her with that same feeling of hurt that he had felt moments ago by the bar. Harry’s lips parted as he looked at her and felt the subtle sting of her accusation.

Whether or not she meant it as a jab, he wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

“Excuse me, Cassidy,” Dalton chuckles with a hint of a mocking tone, “I can speak for myself, darling. No need to interrupt.”

In just that moment, Harry felt himself push against Cassidy’s arm that had been subtly holding him back with no force other than the small barrier of her shoulder. The small push sent Cassidy off balance, which in turn allowed the slosh of wine to knock around her glass.

“And who are you to talk to her like that?” Harry questioned; his eyes now centered on Dalton as his brow knit together. “Fuck off with that, will you?”

“Bloody hell,” Cassidy gasped out, her eyes dropping to the small amount of wine that covered the hardwood floor underneath them—small droplets of the red wine were coating the bottom of her dress; only enough for her to notice, really, but her eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harry and Dalton both turned to her then, Harry’s eyes dropping to the way that she held her dress up to get a bit of a better glimpse of the stain.

“Oh, fuck, Cass. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that. Hey, I’ll clean it up—” Harry moves towards her, his hand holding at her bicep to help keep her balance.

“Good work, mate.” Dalton eyed Harry, who felt the need to clench his fists again. He did so rather quickly, trying to get the feeling of anger to subside for the moment so that he could focus on Cassidy in the moment.

“It’s fine—really, I just want to make sure it doesn’t stain. I—let me go back to my room, I think I have a stain stick.” She lifts her head to look at before she starts to move out of the small space.

“Let me help,” Harry offers, starting to follow behind her. It feels like an opportunity to take—the two of them alone for just a moment so that he can gauge how she’s really feeling about Dalton and this whole situation. The first few minutes of him have Harry already written off, and he knows the type of person she needs to be with should never be one to talk over her.

“No—Harry, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” She says quickly before she feels Dalton’s hand on her, as if to help guide her.

“I can help, darling.” He tells her, “Don’t worry about it. We can buy you a new one, if it’s too bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes and practically gags at the way he speaks to her. As if Cassidy couldn’t buy her own, for herself. He watches as he feels that Cassidy may be a bit overwhelmed by the two of them staring at her, knowing that they’re both fighting for her attention and affection.

The look on her face suggests as such before she look at Harry and blinks a few times, noticing that he had started to back off a bit. Not that he really wanted to, but knowing her, she didn’t want all the attention on her at once.

Harry downed the rest of the champagne, leaving the flute on a small table before Cassidy knit her brows and shook her head. “Actually, Harry— can you help? Your mum’s stain trick always seems to work. I can’t remember, though.”

His eyes float to Dalton who seems a bit taken aback by her push to have Harry go up to her room with her instead.

Harry nods a few times, watching as Dalton goes to speak, but Cassidy reassures him. “I’ll be right back, okay? We won’t be long.” She hands the man her wine glass, only a quarter full now, as most of it had landed on the sandy wood floors.

It’s then that the two of them take off towards the elevator. Cassidy has a bit of a stomp in her step, almost like she’s making sure that her and Harry aren’t in direct line so he can’t speak to her. The fits of anger that bubble in her chest is unexplained as she goes to press the elevator button to go upwards. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the way that the light changes to go upwards.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Cassidy speaks out, a bit quietly as if to just think her thoughts—not say them outwardly.

“C’mon, Cass, he's got the ego of a narcissist and the smile of a Kennedy, you really think a guy like this could be the love of your life? Honestly.” Harry hounded her as they entered the elevator. He reached for the button, but Cassidy was already there, pressing three.

“That's not fair, Harry, you don't know him.” She settled against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, feeling the movement before she held onto the railing behind her. “He’s extremely smart, he’s confident—he knows what he wants. Which I think you and him may not agree on.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn’t look at him—but knowing that he had to say the words to her.

“But I know you.”

Cassidy shakes her head as if she’d heard that from him before. Something about the mixture of the two men felt familiar with many of the guys she had brought home, or brought to meet Harry, really. She couldn’t figure out if he just couldn’t understand that she was dating this guy—not just sleeping with him. They were forming a connection, but maybe Harry didn’t understand that.

Harry didn’t understand the concept of falling in love was possible, probably because she had never seen that happening. She had never seen Harry madly in love with someone; never seen his heart broken before. She didn’t know if that was a red flag or if that was a person choice that he didn’t allow for himself.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her chances at finding it—no matter what his personal opinions were.

“So, why are you putting me through this? C’mon, no one is ever good enough for you. I never said I was going to marry the guy!”

The shuffle of them towards the door to the hotel room increases as Cassidy throws the key against the electronic pad to open the door. Harry follows in quickly behind as she throws her shoes off. Harry makes sure to avoid tripping and falling over them but knows diligently that she takes her shoes off every time she walks through her door—without fail.

He knew that.

“But why waste your time if you won't spend your life with him?” Harry questions, turning on the light in the foyer of the small room that Cassidy and Dalton were sharing. Harry’s eyes tried not to wander as he saw the unfamiliarity of the dark navy suitcase on the floor next to the TV.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t,” Cass answers a bit with a huff as she rustles through her own suitcase to try to find the detergent stick, she had forgotten to throw in her bag, “All I said was I wasn't sure if I would, maybe I will! Also, I can throw that question right back at you, Mr. One-and-Done.”

Harry stands with his hands in his pockets as he knits his brows together at her answer.

“I just don’t think he’s the one, Cass. That’s all I said. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

“No, Harry, that’s not all you said,” She retorts, “You rolled your eyes, you were a bit disrespectful, you—you started like,” She scrunches her nose when she comes back with the detergent stick in his hand as she sits on the edge of the bed. “You were like puffing your chest at him or something—like you were trying to prove a point. Just because he doesn’t share the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean he’s wrong, you know?”

Harry pursed his lips as she had walked by him, feeling that her entrance into the room gave him permission to follow. He didn’t want to pry into her life if he wasn’t invited to.

“I was not puffing my chest at him, that’s ridiculous.”

He took a seat next to her on the bed as she pulled the long dress up just to her knee to try and rub the stain stick over the red wine stain before she dropped the fabric in her lap.

“Yes, you were,” She tells him, “You do that whenever a guy gets too close, like you’re trying to scare them off or something, and it’s bullshit because you don’t even give them a chance.”

“Why would I give them a chance when I can obviously tell that they’re not good for you?”

Cassidy dropped the dress fabric in her lap as she sighed a bit louder, very obviously done with the back and forth where no one would win. Her head turned towards Harry, sitting next to her now. The way that her throat tightened when their eyes met almost immediately threatened her composure.

“You never give them a chance, Harry,” She tells him with honesty in her tone; wanting him to listen to her like he had never listened before. She knew that he was hard-headed, stubborn to say the least. But she knew that when he really knew she was serious, he would back down. “I just want to make this work, okay? He’s a good guy—I promise, he is. And he would make my life comfortable. He’s looking for a wife, a family. He’s looking to settle down. We’re thirty, Harry—I want to have these commitments, even if you don’t.”

“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy, Cass—really, I—” He stops himself as he thinks of all the people he’s made promise’s too over the years, over various occasions, and conversations that he would think back to whenever he caught a glimpse of the green eyes that laid on his now.

Her mum, Barbara. Her younger brother, Antonio. Her best girlfriend from uni, Annabelle.

But her dad, Tony, was the most important for him to honor—considering he knew that he left the planet wanting Cassidy to be in the best hands; he had gotten confirmation from Harry in their last conversation that he would never let someone hurt her. And was loved, there was a guarantee that she would be loved and cherished until the end of time.

There were people in her life that had always looked at Harry as a guide, whether they meant anything by it, but they knew that Harry knew Cassidy better than anyone in the entire world. He had known every detail of her life for the twenty-some years that they had been the best of friends.

But it had always just been there– the best of friends. Saying anything different could change the whole dynamic of what that was.

“What is it? Why do you always do this to me?”

“Why do I always do this to you?” Harry questioned, setting Cassidy back a bit. She stared at him before she felt the way that their connection seemed to have a sense of distance between them. “Cassy, I thought we were going to have a weekend just the two of us. Just like we had been talking about—you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long, we haven’t spent any time together recently. You’re right—we’re thirty now. Life is going to change, but I wanted to have at least one more time where it would just be the two of us to spend laughing and making fun of people like Walton.”

Cassidy fought so hard to not smile at the name Harry gave her date, “Fuck off, you know it’s Dalton.”

“Cass, it doesn’t matter what his name is.” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes, “What matters is that you always do this to me. You always insert this jackass as if to push him in my face and practically tease me with it. And what’s with all the jokes about me being exclusive?”

Cassidy feels her shoulders deflate, her eyes batting a few times before she shakes her head. “I just want you to find the right person, too, and maybe that would make you back from me and my choices just a bit. You think that I would treat a girl you dated like that? You think I would sit there and puff out my chest and try to make my boobs look bigger to make you look at me instead of her?”

Harry shrugs. “If you were jealous enough, I’d hope you would.” He goes to say something else but quickly shakes his head as if to not speak too much.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy tells him, her eyes giving a small up and down motion as she realizes how much space was between them now.

Harry stands up, his hands moving through his hair in a frustrated motion before he goes to stand in front of her at the end of the bed. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? Just because I’m the one with the artistic eye doesn’t mean that I’m the only one who can see art, Cass. You know when we go to the galleries in new cities we travel to, and I really make you look at them? You glance at them and are like, ‘that’s a nice one’ or ‘that’s pretty’. No, I really want you to look at it—and then sometimes it makes you emotional because you can really see the way that the artist has manipulated his wrists to make the kinds of strokes that the brushwork is, or the way that the divot in the sculpture is supposed to look like it’s a flaw, but it’s intentional? And that what you didn’t see before, because you were just glancing, is really there all the time?”

Cassidy looked at Harry who was standing in front of her, his eyebrows knit and his face practically begging for her to see him. He’s begging her to recognize this game that he had been playing wasn’t a game at all, it was just a matter of time. It was a matter of wanting her to see what they could be so that he didn’t have to spell it out.

He didn’t want to push her, but he wanted her to see it for herself. First and foremost, he wanted her to want it as much as he had.

“All I’m seeing is that you’re painting me out to be the bad guy here. All you do cycle through girls like a manic—you’re sleeping with one, you’re stringing one along. You think that’s supposed to entice me?” She asks quaintly, a bit quietly as she shakes her head, looking at Harry who seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he takes in a deep breath to try and get to a level of calmness that fits his demeaner.  

“No, Cass! I just wanted you to see how in love with you I am!” The words that leave his mouth are practically begging, but they leave a sour silence in the room as Cassidy is taken by the tone Harry’s voice; his hands resting on his hips as he finishes the pacing he had been doing.

“Cassidy,” Harry swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in his throat, his voice practically faltering as he shook his head, trying so badly to get through to the words he had been looking for. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. They were never there to stay, okay? That’s why I didn’t look for exclusivity— it was never theirs. I was saving every ounce of my love and my time and my affection for you, and you never reached out to take any of it.”

Her silence hits her for a moment as she sits with her wine-stained dress in her lap on the white, linen sheets before she watches the man in front of her professing all the love and needs to her. She doesn’t feel like she can speak, but her eyes drift down to her lap as she feels all the sudden unable to find the words at all.

“Look—I’m sorry, I—I just can’t see you being with someone like this. And it physically hurts me to see you heartbroken when I know,” Harry pulls his lips into his mouth as he puts his hands on his hips, “I know that guy is going to fucking annihilate you. You’re going to fall in love with him, and he’s going to take it all and run with it. And there I’ll be, standing there, waiting for you to realize what’s been waiting for you this entire time. It’s just bound to happen.”

Cassidy sits with her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she feels the threatening of tears to spill from her eyes. She doesn’t understand the overwhelming feeling of the man’s words as she shakes her head, a sad chuckle leaving her throat as she looks up at him.

“He ordered me a pinot noir tonight,” She nods, “Told me that it was the best wine he’d ever had before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t know that you exclusively drink Cab Sav from a box, no matter what, unless you’re celebrating something big, then it’s a discounted bottle of Dom Perignon from that Lombardi’s store down from your flat,” Harry tells her with a scoff, almost like it had been a test to prove that he knew her better than anyone in the world did.

And Cassidy knew that he did, but the validation that he showed only made her tear fall with the knowledge that he didn’t just listen—he remembered, he supplied this vision of her and this want for her that didn’t come with rules or expectations.

Harry just saw her.

And in a world where you want to be seen, Cassidy just fought to be glanced at. She fought for the spot in someone’s eye, but when she thought that Harry only had eyes for art, she couldn’t have imagined what he had seen in her this entire time.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Harry shook his head, looking at the ground as he started to feeling heaps of embarrassment but knowing that the awkward silence in the room was there to stay for a few more minutes at least. “I’d never order you a fucking pinot noir.”

Cassidy nods a few more times before she looks at the stains on the dress, knowing that it’s stained for good. That the stain stick won’t work anymore but knowing that it’s sometimes okay to have something marked, in the case that you wanted it to stick around forever.

Her heart felt like it had been borrowed and bruised but watching as Harry stared down at her only made it flutter as if trying to come back from the dead.

There were three things that Cassidy had been looking forward to this week—when she had originally booked the trip, that is.

One of them was to have a large glass of Cab Sav and sit on the balcony with Harry and laugh at the way that the people were pummeled by the waves; they always got too brave and then would be smashed down by the force of the water.

The second was to be able to dance. The dancing at the weddings always made her feel like she had been letting go of every ounce of worry and detrimental work email that she had received since the last time she was dancing at a wedding. It usually felt like a cleanse.

The third was to watch people fall in love. To watch people and see that their forever was right in front of their eyes and to confirm every moment of it with vows and unspeakable glances that felt like a bound contractual agreement.

As Cassidy stood in front of Harry now, her dress a mess of stain and wet, detergent marks, her eyes searched his for a moment before she looked up at him, with a different set of eyes, this time.

They were colored in a way that felt extraordinarily bright, like she had woken up from the darkest slumber. The mask of uncertainty was laying on the floor as she felt his hands lift her jaw to look at him, his feet taking a step forward.

“I think they say this at weddings,” He squinted at her, the line of a smirk coating his face as he kept his words quiet. Her hand moved up to hold his wrist as she bit on her lip softly, feeling the way that their lips tried to find one another—slow, encapsulated by an intense amount of tension, “’Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?”

The silence between them spoke for itself.

Harry pulled her forward, not rushed, but certainly not waiting a second longer. His lips attached to hers in a way that felt every single day of the last twenty years; the kiss that could have lasted the rest of his life without a doubt in his mind.

It was what was bound to happen all along; there just had to be a few frogs before the real prince revealed himself.

Well, that’s what Harry told himself, anyways. Cassidy would just roll her eyes, but knew that at the end of the day, it had always been him.

Exclusively him.

[celestialwrites]

OHHH I LOVE YOUR PROMPTSSS PLEASE WRITE GRUMPY X SUNSHINE PROMPTS!! But like - the grump is not mean, he's just stern, and quite but actually grows soft for sunshine and loves to hear her talk? I'm sorry ik it's very specific😭😭😭

TY<;3 (grumpy x sunshine is honestly one of the best tropes!!)

ೃ⁀➷ grumpy x sunshine prompts

✩ he could listen to her talk for hours. actual hours. he would sit with that sweet little smile that only she has the gift of seeing and he would just listen.

✩ the sunshine gives him a stern look of fake anger and his nose just scrunches up and he has the softest little smile that makes her heart burst.

✩ “what are you doing?” “looking at you.” “okay, but why?” “because you’re gorgeous.”

✩ he normally doesn’t like to be touched but he always snuggles up to her.

✩ whenever he’s angry/anxious his first reaction is to call her, letting the sound of her voice sooth him.

✩ “are you still paying attention?” “of course” “i’ve been talking about (insert thing he doesn’t like)” “i love the sound of your voice nonetheless.”

✩ he will call her at just to most random times just to hear her voice.

✩ laying in bed and talking might just be his favourite part of the day, the way her face just lights up when she’s encountering a memory of the day makes his heart do funny things.

✩ “i’m going to sleep.” “no, don’t.” “why not?” “just keep talking…please?”

✩ the look he gives people when they interrupt her whilst she’s talking, it’s deadly.

✩ she loves telling him about her day just to see the stars in his eyes and the million dollar smile he has.

✩ the sunshine will specifically try and send voice messages instead of texts&lt;3

(feel free to change up the pronouns!)

@celestialwrites for more

[thecuriousbeauty]

Thank you so much! Yes, I will take requests🫶🏼

So Harry and yn are in a relationship but his family doesn't approve their relationship cause they thought yn is all uptight bitch as media has portrait her and it will be angsty like his family will fight with yn but in the all fluff and smut between harry and yn?? If only you want to write thank youu.💗

Harry Styles Oneshot- His Family Doesn't Like You

Word limit: 3,030

Author's note: Thanks for the request! I hope you like it:) Requests are open, guys. Feed back appreciated and please re blog if you like my writing!

Warnings: Smut, sweet sex, fluff, angst.

___________________________________________

You looked at yourself again and again in the mirror, making sure you looked perfect. You wanted to look flawless tonight. You were meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time. Harry always talks about them. He tells you about how kind his mom is, how she raised Harry and his sister Gemma all by herself. Harry's very close to his mother and he loves her a lot. He loves his sister too, he always calls her after a show, or if something exciting happens in his life. You were going to meet the two women who shaped Harry to who he is now. 

"You ready to go, baby?", Harry asks, coming into your bedroom, and you turn around to look at him. Harry looked handsome as always, in his patterned shirt and black pants, his hair neatly kept, a few strands falling over his face. His face breaks into a beautiful smile as he takes you in. "You look so pretty!"

"Yeah? Are you sure? Should I change into a dress or something?", you ask him, nervously running your hands down your skirt. Harry comes to you, placing his hands on your hips and tugging you closer to him. "I'm sure. Are you okay? We don't have to meet them today if you don't want to, no rush." Harry kisses your temple, and you sigh. You two were already in a six month relationship, and Harry had met your parents who absolutely loved him, but you hadn't met Harry's family yet. You both were busy. You work in the industry as well, and whatever free time you both get, you spend it with each other.

"No, I want to meet them. I'm just nervous.", you tell him. Harry strokes your hair away from your forehead, his gentle green eyes reassuring you. "Darling, they're really good people. You don't have to be nervous about anything. I love you, and they'll love you too."

"Okay.", you whisper, nodding slowly as he lifts your chin up for a kiss. "Yeah?", he checks, and you nod some more, pressing a kiss to his lips. He cups your cheek, and his lips envelop yours in a sweet kiss. His kisses could heal everything. You felt a a tiny boost of confidence, and you finished getting ready, then got in the car. Harry drove and kept his free hand on your thigh, talking to you about his sister and his mom. 

You got to the house, and Harry grabs your hand, sensing your nerves again as you stand outside the door, waiting. "I'll be right by your side, baby. Don't worry, okay?"

"Okay, sorry, I just really want them to like me.", you whisper, and he smiles, kissing your cheek. "How can anyone not like you y/n? You're an amazing person."

Just then, Harry's mom gets the door, and you smile at her. Anne was beautiful. Her brown hair laid over her shoulder in waves, bright eyes and a big smile took over her face as she sees her son.

"Oh come here my handsome boy.", she coos, opening her arms and Harry walks into them, embracing his mother tightly. "Hey mum." They kiss cheeks, and Anne starts telling him about the neighbour's cat, but Harry interrupts. 

"Mum, this is y/n. Babe, my mom.", Harry introduces with a smile, and Anne looks at you for the first time, giving you a small smile. "Hello, y/n."

"It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Twist." You wanted to go for a hug, but she put out her hand before that, so you just shook it. 

"Call me Anne, please. Come on in!"

She holds the door open for you guys. "Gemma! Harry's here."

Harry takes your coat to hang it behind the door along with his. "She just came in a few minutes ago.", Anne says as she walks to the kitchen. 

"It smells so good in here, mum.", Harry says, and it did. The lovely smell of hot stew and something buttery in the oven was wafting through the air. 

"All your favorites, of course.", Anne answers and Harry grins. 

"Can I help with anything, Anne?", you ask, and she shakes her head. "I've got it handled, thank you."

Another woman comes down the stairs. She was beautiful too, you saw the similarities between her and Harry. "Harry!", she smiles and rushes into his arms. "Hey Gem!", Harry squeezes her tight, kissing her cheek. "Long time no see!"

"You're the one who's always busy!", she says back, and he laughs. "Say hi to y/n!"

She turns to look at you, and you smile. "Hi Gemma."

"y/n.", she nods, her smile erasing a bit, and your heart drops. She doesn't seem to like you, you think. Harry saw that, and he comes back to your side. 

"What do you do, y/n?", Gemma asks you, even though she knew from Harry.

"Uh, I work in the industry. I'm a music producer.", you say. 

"You work for Harry then?", Anne asks you from the kitchen.

"I have worked with Harry, yes, but I work with a lot of people in the industry. Not confined to anyone.", you say, and she hums. That's how you met Harry. You worked on a song together. 

"She's a brilliant producer, anyone who gets to work with her is lucky.", Harry pipes up, kissing your cheek and you smile, squeezing his hand. "Thanks babe."

They ask you more about your work, and people you've worked with. Then Harry whisks you away to show you around the house, and you can't help but wonder whether they like you. They seemed pretty sweet when talking to Harry, but all you got were cold responses. 

"They're nosy, love, I'm sorry.", Harry says apologetically and you shake your head. "No it's okay, I like talking about work."

"I did tell them everything they need to know, I don't know why they're still asking you.", he frowns. "Why don't you take a look around while I have a chat with them?"

You nod. After you looked at Harry's childhood photos and smiled to yourself, took some photos on your phone to look at them again later on, you went back to them. On the way you stopped in your tracks, when you heard them talk about you.

"Mum, she's not like others!", Harry was saying.

"You don't know that yet, Harry. Everything starts out like this and ends up with you heart broken."

"Besides, it's just been six months, are you really that serious about her?", Gemma asks him, and you feel your heart tighten in your chest. 

"We did our research on her, and you have to see what the media has to say. She's so stuck up, and rude!", Anne said.

"And she might be secretly messing with your music, she could use them for her ideas.", Gemma says, and you resist the urge to scoff out loud. That would be the last thing you would do to Harry. 

"You mean she's with me to steal my music?! Mom, Gem, she's so talented, she doesn't need to steal anything! She wouldn't do that, either. She's such a good person. I don't care what the media portrays her as, she's not rude. She's quiet, but not with me. She trusts me, and loves me, she's her real self with me. She's funny, and beautiful and a lovely person.", Harry said, and you felt your eyes tear up. 

"You're blind, Harry. I hope you remember all the drama and rumors you caused with your previous relationships.", Gemma says. 

"I don't see a difference, she's just like everyone else you've dated before. I don't like her, Harry, I'm sorry.", Anne said. 

"You didn't even talk to her! You asked her about work! How can you decide that you don't like her?"

"Because this isn't the first time you've brought a girl like her to meet us!", Gemma said, and that was it, you had heard enough. You walked out, making everyone freeze and look at you.

"Babe-", Harry starts, knowing you heard it all by taking a look at your face.

"-I-I got a call, something came up. I-I have to go, Harry. I'll get a cab.", you say to him, your voice shaky as you go to the door. 

"No, no baby, they didn't mean it like that-" Harry grabs your arm. 

"-I have to go.", you whisper, looking Harry in the eyes and taking your arm away from his grip. "Okay. I'll come with you, you're not taking a cab."

Before you could stop him, he turned back to his mom and sister. "I don't know why you both behaved like that towards someone I love and respect, but that was awful. You taught us to respect and treat people well, that's not what you did to y/n today, mum. I feel so bad for bringing her here, she didn't deserve to hear all that shit. You can't just assume she's like everyone else. And she's not, I know her. I love her. She has been with me through tough times, my loses and my wins. I feel sorry for you both that you failed to see her. I don't want to hear anymore of this from either of you, don't talk to me until you apologize to y/n."

"Harry no-", you start, you didn't want to break up the family.

Harry took your hand, and your coats. "Let's go, love."

"Harry-", Gemma calls behind you, but he doesn't look back. He opens the door for you, and you get inside the car. Harry started driving, silently. He was fuming too. He couldn't believe they would talk like that about her, in front of her.

Now you're the reason for messing up their family. Then all the shit the media says about you. Everything hit you together, and you couldn't stop the tears. 

"y/n.", Harry whispers, moving his free hand to your knee. "Darling."

"I-I'm so sorry.", you croak, covering your face with your hands. "Y-You shouldn't have walked out and said all that."

"I shouldn't have stood up for you?", he asks, pulling over to the side. "What kind of a boyfriend would I be then?"

You sob into your hands, and Harry gets his seat belt off, reaching over to remove yours, and he scoops you into his lap without effort. "Hey, hey..sweetheart, look at me.", he speaks softly, all his anger melting away watching you cry. He hated watching you cry. Knowing that his family was the reason for your tears made him feel so guilty. He wanted you to meet them.

"I-I don't want to get in the way of your family. M-Maybe we should break up.", you tell him, and he pulls your hands away from your face so he can look at you. He looked hurt. "B-Break up? No, I love you!"

"I love you too, Harry, but I can't do this. T-They obviously hate me and they're all you have as family, I don't want another label. Family wrecker? I-I can't, Harry..", you cry, and he cups the back of your head, pushing your head into his chest. He rub his hand up and down your back, comforting you. 

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, please don't cry..", Harry coos, pressing kisses to your head. "This isn't gonna break my family apart, babe. I was angry, and they are naive, they read what the media says. But I know the real you! You're such a beautiful person, in and out. And anyone who knows you will say the same about you. The media says I'm a womanizer, I like older women, I have sex with everyone I see and what not! They just like to make people feel bad. I'll make mom and Gem understand. And if they don't get it, it's fine. I love you, right?"

You pull your head back, and look at him. He smiled softly, stroking his thumb on your cheek. "I love you so much. I can't live without you, y/n. I need you in my life. I will fix this, I promise. Please don't give up on us, baby, I can't go on without you."

You couldn't either, that was the truth. You put your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. "I love you too, Haz."

"I'm sorry.", he repeats, kissing your neck. 

"It's not your fault.", you tell him, closing your eyes. Harry held you for as long as you needed. You gave him a kiss and got off his lap once you were alright. 

"I'll show you just how perfect you are after we get home.", he promises, before he starts driving again. 

You wondered what he meant. When you got to your place, he took you up into his arms as he kissed you. This time, with more passion. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he took you to your bedroom, and laid you down on the bed, all while trailing kisses down your jawline and your neck, his teeth leaving love bites as a reminder. 

"Harry..", you moan as he his hand palms your breast over your bra, slipping his hand under your top. 

"I'm gonna make you feel good, baby.", he whispers, gently tugging on your top and you raise your arms for him to slip it off of you. Your bra follows, and he kisses your breasts, lips sucking your nipples, and his teeth gently nibbling on it. You get his shirt off, running your hands over his chest and his abdomen, eyes raking over his tattoos. You've seen it a lot of times, but you're always so astonished at how beautiful everything is. He is so beautiful. 

"I need you inside.", you whisper, moaning as his fingers feel around your wet folds. "Please Harry.."

"Whatever you want, baby." He slips your skirt down your hips, and your panties, before spreading your legs. "So pretty for me.", he praises, looking at your pussy. He brings his fingers to his mouth, getting some saliva on his fingers before rubbing it over your folds. "Everything about you is gorgeous, y/n."

You were tingling, aching for him. You needed to feel full. Harry slips his boxers off, and doesn't waste anymore time. He pushes into you, keeping one hand on your shoulder and the other hand holding his dick. You moan at the feeling as he pushes inside, completely, and he pauses, waiting for you to adjust. 

"You can m-move..please..", you whisper, closing your eyes and he moves in and out of you slowly, but deeply. They were hitting just the right spots, making you grab onto his shoulder, and whimper. "Open your eyes, let me see those pretty eyes y/n.", Harry grabs your jaw and you open your eyes, meeting his green ones. 

"You are perfect, you're my best girl.", he whispers before attaching his lips to yours, groaning as it felt so good. His tongue explored your mouth as you kissed, all your worries melting away as he made love to you. He kept kissing you and whispering praises until you both got close to your releases. 

"Oh fuck, baby I won't last longer..come on, cum for me..", he groans, and you moan his name out loud as your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. Harry also cums, and he continues his momentum, carrying you both through your orgasms before he lays on top of you, still inside. 

"I love you.", you whisper, running your hand through his curls. 

"I love you more.", he whispers back, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Don't ever doubt yourself due to what someone else might say."

______________________________________________________________

"Love?", you hear Harry call as you go through some emails, and you hum. "Yeah?"

Harry comes to you, and holds out his phone. "It's mom, she wants to speak to you."

"What?", you whisper shout, and he was smiling, nodding as he pushes his phone to you. "Just hear her out for me, please?"

You nod, taking his phone from him and pressing it to your ear. "Hello?"

"y/n? It's Anne, love. I would like to apologize for what happened last night.", Anne says. "Gemma showed me the magazines and what the media says, and I believed them. I just want the best for Harry. I've seen his girlfriends cheat on him, drain his pockets, use him and then just walk out. I'm just protective. And I guess that clouded my brain. I shouldn't have made a judgement like that, without even getting to know you. I'm so sorry, y/n."

"It's okay, Anne.", you immediately say, and Harry smiles. 

"Harry talks about you all the time. You mean a lot to him. And I'm happy with anyone who makes my son happy. Would you want to maybe get lunch tomorrow? Gemma's sorry too, and we both would like to get to know you a bit, yeah?"

"Of course, I'd love that.", you smiled. "I understand your worries Anne, but I'm not like them. I love Harry for the person he is, not for anything else. He's an incredible person, and it's you behind who he is now."

After you finish talking, Harry hugs you tight. "Thanks for giving them another chance."

"They're your family, and I care about you, a lot. So yes.", you say, and squeal as he attacks you in kisses, making you fall back on the couch. "Babe! That tickles!!"

[lady-phasma]

In the fading light

Daemon Targaryen x fem Dornish!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, but I was going for soft!Daemon so I don't think there are that many warnings this time.

Summary: Daemon comes to visit you at Godsgrace, the seat of House Allyrion, in Dorne. Kind of an AU in the sense that Rhaenyra isn't the object of his love, nor his motivation for "ending his marriage" to Rhea. 2.6k words

From the request here - romantic Daemon inspired by the song "kalam eineh" (Words of his eyes) by Sherine. I was able to work in a few lyrics as well ("the one whose eyes the moon envied" and "get lost in his beauty").

a/n: Dorne is a very big place and all of the houses are as different as the Northern houses. So as I write more Dornish!reader fics I start to see them uniquely in my headcanon. Godgrace is on a river from what my research tells me, so I think it worked out perfectly that Sherine is Egyptian. I've dropped some Egyptian elements into Godsgrace and that's how it is in my head now. (If there was a face claim for a location think Thebes/Luxor landscape.)

A warm breeze wafted onto the balcony where you and Daemon sat. The sun sank low against the horizon. The river in the distance shone with golds and pinks. A falcon screeched nearby. You turned from the gorgeous view of the Godsgrace river oasis to look at your Prince. He sat, reclined, opposite you. You slid your toes up the inside of his leg, teasing him. He stroked the top of your foot, your ankle, up your shin. Your smooth skin reflected the light of the setting sun much as the river did. Daemon slipped his fingertips under the hem of your thin skirt. The contrast of his pale hand under the bronze fabric was delightful to you. This Northern prince, so accustomed to clouds and darkness. Such a dreary land he came from.

You watched him as he looked out over the Greenblood river. It would be so easy to get lost in his beauty. His hair, his eyes, his mouth, everything about him was entrancing to you. You glanced back out at the river, the people going about their evening paying no attention to the lords and ladies so high above them. Birds circled above fishing boats as the nets were pulled in. Lights began to flicker in windows across the city. You smelled roasted meat and fresh baked bread on the warm air. You would have to dress for the evening meal, if you didn’t request it in your quarters.

“Did you come only because the fool Prince Martell forbade it?” You were genuinely curious. “Or because of your brother?”

“You know that is not the reason,” he spoke softly and continued to stroke your leg. “Their approval means less to me than you think.”

“You risk much coming to Godsgrace.” You wiggled your toes against his thigh.

“It is a fair price,” Daemon replied.

“Surely you are quite rested now, my love,” you goaded. “It is a long journey up the Greenblood, but not so tiring that you would ignore me.” You flashed your eyes at him. They were nearly the color of burnt umber in the fading light. Soon your maids would light torches and candles in your chambers. You would hear them through the diaphanous curtains that hung in the entry of the balcony. Though they would never dare to disturb you, even if you had your Targaryen on the floor in front of them.

Daemon turned his violet eyes toward you, finally pulled from his thoughts. Gods, you thought, even the moon could envy those eyes! The last pink of the sunset caught on his silver hair as it swung freely about his face, tendrils caught in the breeze.

“Quite rested,” he smirked as he spoke. He slipped his hand behind your knee and, reaching forward, grabbed your other leg and pulled you, bodily, to him. Your chair legs screeched against the stone floor as you threw your head back and laughed. When he had you where he wanted you, he smoothed his palms up the inside of your thighs. You rested your bare feet on the seat of his chair on either side of his legs. He pushed your skirt all the way up to your waist as he stared into your eyes. His thumbs grazed the creases of your thighs and you sighed.

“The journey was too long, but certain hindrances are now resolved,” his voice was low and quiet. “I am no longer married.”

You raised an eyebrow at these words. You trailed your fingertips down one of his forearms.

“I hope that it was painless, my prince,” you both knew the mocking of his title was not malicious. He was not your prince and you enjoyed reminding him of that. “You know, you could have stayed in Godsgrace and I could have sent one of my women to dispatch the issue quickly.” Your grin was knowing, yet seductive. Daemon’s response to Northern morality was curious to you. He didn’t want his wife, but could not bring himself to have another while she lived.

“I did not say I did the deed,” he tried not to smile. “Only that it was resolved.” Oh, he was deliciously vile when it suited him. You chuckled at this.

“Well, I had no trouble with the situation,” you grazed his thigh with one foot. “I needed only your devotion, not your marriage.”

“That you will always have, my lady,” he replied as he sank to his knees in front of you. You moved your foot to his shoulder, the other still in his chair, as you languidly spread your legs to make room for him. He looked up at you again, catching your eyes with his as he kissed your thigh, then your belly. You stroked one hand over his silky head as he lowered it and kissed the dark hair between your legs. You heard him inhale, smelling you, and you became even wetter.

Daemon licked the full length of your slit and paused at your pearl. He circled it with the tip of his tongue and you gripped the arms of your chair. He slid an arm around one thigh to steady you. Then he grazed a finger through your folds, finding your entrance quickly, as if he knew your geography by heart. He teased and didn’t slide inside you yet. He used two fingers to circle your opening, almost matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. Your hips rocked. You tried, and failed, to get his fingers inside. He stilled you as much as he could and continued for a moment that felt like an eternity.

When he finally slipped his fingers into your wet heat he sucked on your clit and your hands flew to the back of his head. You moaned and pushed against his mouth. You thought you felt him chuckle. You didn’t care. You ground your hips on his mouth and fingers.

“Daemon,” you whispered, as that was as loud as you could manage. “That’s it, just there. Please.”

He rubbed his fingertips against the spot that drove you wild, fighting against your clenching muscles. His tongue resumed its circling movements, but with a slightly quicker pace. Your breathing was becoming shallow and the sounds you made came deep from your chest. He pumped his fingers harder into you, knowing the pressure you needed to reach your climax. Your toes curled on his shoulder. You let go of his head, gripped the arms of your chair again, and your body curled forward as your climax overwhelmed you. You yelled his name, moaned incoherently, and then laughed. He hadn’t stopped, tongue still lapping causing your thighs to twitch. You playfully pushed at his forehead to give you peace.

You leaned forward and cupped his face in your hands. His expression wasn’t playful, as yours was. The look was full of something akin to admiration. You kissed him, roughly. You licked yourself from his lips, his tongue, and moaned into his mouth. He reached up and tangled his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, letting some of it loose from the pins that held it in place. Without much grace, he blindly began to release your hair from its confines.

Daemon broke your kiss and began to stand up. You let your fingers trail down his body as he did. You grazed your fingers over his pants, deliberately avoiding the hardness straining the fabric. He pulled pins and a comb from your hair, tossing them on the floor with abandon. You looked up at him, a playfully displeased look on your face for the carelessness he showed for your jewelry, and shook out your hair. It fell in near-black waves down your shoulders and back.

“I need you,” Daemon breathed. His eyes were dark with lust. Still looking up at him from your chair, you pressed your palm over his erection. His eyes nearly closed. His chest rose and fell, trying to maintain his composure. You pressed just a little harder. He grabbed your wrists. It didn’t hurt but made it evident that he couldn’t be teased this evening. You stood, your wrists still in his hands. You raised to tiptoes and pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth. Your eyes narrowed in defiance against being so restrained.

“That’s enough!” He threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and laughed, kicking your feet and pounding your fists lightly against his back. Your laughter bounced off the stone walls as he carried you through the curtains into your chambers. You pushed against him, raising your head to look at the two startled maids, and laughed harder.

“Let me go!” You giggled and kicked your feet but he only held your ankles as he walked you to the bed. You heard the two girls scamper from the room, giggling and twittering.

Daemon dropped you lightly on the bed. You were breathless from laughing. He smiled down at you, but that look was back. What had changed since he had gone North? Your laughter faded into giggles, which in turn faded into quick breaths as he knelt on the bed and kissed his way up your feet, calves, and thighs. He began to unfasten the ties of your skirt at your waist and you helped him with the small buttons of your delicate top.

He licked and kissed the curves of your exposed belly. He nuzzled his nose between your breasts, then kissed each of your nipples. You played with his silky hair, enjoying watching him worship you. When he reached your neck and jaw you began tugging on his shirt, pulling it toward his shoulders. He straightened long enough pull it over his head, then bent down to your mouth again. You kissed him back, hands gripping his neck, stroking his shoulders, down his biceps.

Daemon moved with you, still kissing, as you began to sit up. You gently pressed his shoulders back and guided him to lay down. You straddled his thighs and began pulling at the laces of his pants. He groaned at the pressure of your fingers. You stroked his freed cock, watching your hands move slowly. You enjoyed making him wait but you couldn’t wait any longer. You released him and begin to remove his breeches. Once you had both struggled with that for a moment, you trying not to giggle during the endeavor, you climbed up him and placed yourself on his belly. You could feel his cock pressing against your buttocks. You leaned forward and kissed him and he cupped both of your breasts in his hands.

You lifted your hips enough to reach between you and guide him into your wetness. He growled and squeezed your breasts a bit harder. Slowly, you took him inside you. You raised up, allowing him to keep his hands on you, and pressed your hands against his stomach as you rocked your hips. You took his cock as deep as you could. Gradually, at first, then setting a gentle pace that brought sweet sounds from Daemon’s lips. You leaned forward slightly, finding the angle you needed. He moved his hands, one to your neck, one to your hip. As you settled on a rhythm, he began to match you, thrusting upward slightly each time you rocked back on his cock.

You let your head fall forward, you hair sweeping forward, framing your face and his. Your fingers curled against his chest. You kept this pace as long as you could before your cunt began to ache with the beginnings of your climax. You slowed and Daemon took over. Gripping both of your hips, he fucked up into you, harder than you had been able to manage. His grunts made you squeeze around his cock. They were wonderful sounds that only increased your need for him.

You rested your face against his, pressing your cheeks together. Neither of you could stay quiet. Your name fell from his lips as fluidly as the curses he uttered. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you down onto each of his upward thrusts. The sound of flesh against flesh, lewd and satisfying. Your bodies glistened with sweat in the torch light. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him but the pleasure was too great.

“Yes, please, Daemon,” you whined in his ear. Your lips drug across his cheek as you searched for his mouth. You tried to kiss him. Instead you panted and moaned against his mouth. As your climax began the wave that would drown you, you heard his voice, much calmer than yours could have been in that moment.

“Look at me.” You did. He didn’t stop fucking you, but he held your gaze with those perfect eyes. “I love you. I would kill for you. I would kill anyone who kept us apart.”

Something in his eyes, not just his words, was your undoing. Your climax spread over you at the same time as it curled up inside you. You squeezed your thighs against his hips, almost stopping his movements entirely. You bent to him and kissed him, moaning and sighing, as you came.

Suddenly Daemon’s large arms encircled you and in your delirium you could hardly notice that he was moving you. You clung to his shoulders as he somehow, and gracefully, managed to lay you on your back. He had not pulled out. You wrapped your legs around his hips and ran your hands into his hair.

Daemon fucked you without restraint. You were coming down from your climax but your cunt gripped him tight and he grunted with each deep thrust. He shifted his weight to one hand and deftly scooped one of your legs into the crook of his arm. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him. He was watching you.

“Touch yourself,” he panted. “Come on my cock again.” His smile was enough to convince you, if his words hadn’t been.

So you did. You rubbed your fingers quickly, and in time with his strokes. When you were close again, you arched under him, head thrown back, Daemon’s mouth on your exposed neck. Then he pressed his hips against you as hard as he could. His cock buried completely inside you as he came. Your cunt spasmed around him and you both felt his seed fill you as your climax peaked. He cursed and tried to gently lower your leg. Your body shook and you were unable to help him. He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

As he slowly pulled out and away from you, you mewled and groaned, closing your thighs and squeezing them together. Daemon lowered himself down next to you, on his side. He rested his head on your chest. You smoothed his hair away from his forehead in a long stroke down to his back and sighed. You let your hand rest on his shoulder. He held you close to him.

The cool night breeze wicked the sweat off your skin. The torches guttered slightly. You wrapped one leg over Daemon’s. You wanted every part of your body touching his. You breathed in his smell mixed with your own and the dusty sweetness of Godsgrace coming in through the curtains.

“No one will come between us,” Daemon whispered against you.

“I know, my love, my dragon” you replied, lips brushing against the top of his head.

The sun had set and, perhaps, the dark was what he needed. In the light of day The Rogue Prince was rakish and disreputable. But at night, with you, he could shed that facade.

Masterlist

Tags: @black-dread

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Anon request - "can you do a fluff drunk with sam where the reader gets very drunk and sam takes care of her and like cuddles her tysm"

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, partying, playing beer pong

Word count: 2.2k | not edited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Sam walks up behind you, "Matching your dress to my pants was the best idea ever." His eyes move down your dress and to his pants, "We look so good, baby."

You look over at him in the mirror and smile, "Right. I'm just glad I found this shade of pink, it was the last one too."

"So what you're saying is that.. you're lucky.." he spins you around and you rest on the low counter top of the hotel room, "Something like that."

His eyes scan over your freshly done face and he sighs, "You look beautiful."

You smile, "You look so handsome."

He smiles and shakes his head, "Oh stop it." He looks down and back up to you, "Gimme a kiss, we gotta get going."

You pucker lips and he leans in, stealing one before pulling you up, "Ready?"

You nod, linking your arm with his, "Ready."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"How ya feelin'?" Sam asks, smirking as he looks down at you. You have your head rested on his chest, eyes closed, "I feel.. drunk." You giggle and sit up, "But I'm having so much fun."

He smiles and brushes hair that's caught in your last, "You look so pretty."

You smile, "I love you." You cup his cheeks with your hands, "I love you so, so, so much." He chuckles, smiling as he shakes his head, "And I love you.." he leans in, "So, so, so.. So much."

You smile and connect your lips with his, "Wanna be my partner in pong?"

He scoffs, "Is that even a question that you have to ask?"

You giggle, "No, come on." You grab his hand, pulling him behind you as you make your way through the crowded house, "Colby!"

Colby turns around, "Hey! What's up?"

You nod to Sam, "Get a partner, you're playing against us in pong." Colby laughs, "Alright, but don't cry to Sam when you lose."

You roll your eyes, "Please. If anyone will be crying it'll be you."

Sam smirks, nodding to Colby as you pull him past to your end of the table. You set the cups up, waiting for Colby and Jake to set theirs up.

"Y/n, how drunk are you?" Jake laughs and rolls a ball across the table. You grab it, standing back up, "not drunk enough to lose to you guys."

Sam bites his bottom lip, smirking at your drunken trash talk, "Get 'em, babe." He pulls you closer to him before stepping back, giving you space to shoot your shot.

"Ladies first." Jake says motioning to the cups on his and Colby's side. You give him a smirk, "Thanks." You bite your bottom lip, focusing on the cup before you toss it.

You smile, "Have at it, Webber."

Sam walks up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he watches Jake miss his shot. He catches the ball before it lands on the floor, "Nice shot, Jake."

"That was my warm up. Don't worry, I'll be coming back with redemption." He laughs and you and Sam shoot, making both.

You guys shoot again, this time Sam misses but you don't. You take your shot, and lucky for Colby and Jake, you miss.

"About damn time." Colby groans, "Fucking hell."

"Remember Jake. In to the cup." You laugh and lean against Sam, giggling as Jake misses his shot, but Colby gets his.

You remove the cup, and you repeat the process until you both are down to the last cup.

"Come on, baby." Sam says, "You got this."

You smile, looking at the cup for a few seconds before shooting. Sink.

You turn to Sam, high fiving him as he cheers, but Colby cuts it short, "Now wait wait wait a minute. We get to shoot, too."

You motion to the cup and laugh as he misses. You motion to Jake, "Have at it Mr. Redemption."

He rolls his eyes, smirking as he chuckles, "If I make this, you have to take two shots back to back."

"And if you don't?" You shrug and tilt your head. He sighs, "I'll take four back to back shots."

"Deal." You laugh, raising your hands in the air and bringing them down with a clap, "Fuck yeah. Let's go get your shots, Jakey poo."

You interlock your fingers with Sam's, "That was so much fun." Sam nods, "I just like watching you have fun." You smirk, "Mm, I'm sure you do."

You walk over to the counter where all the full and empty bottles of alcohol sit, "Pick your poison." You motion to the glass and Jake sighs, "Fine." He points and you pour him out four shots.

At this point everyone is gathered around, cheering on Jake as he takes the shots, groaning after, "These are going to fuck me up."

You lean in. Maybe next time you'll actually win." You laugh as you pull Sam to the floor where everyone is dancing.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

By one a.m, you're finishing your seventh drink, clinging to Sam like you normally do when you're drunk.

"Calling it a night?" Sam rests his chin on your head and you nod, "I- I think so." You hiccup, giggling at the weird sound you made, "Yeah."

Sam laughs, standing you up and wrapping an arm around your waist, "Come on. Let's go back to the hotel so you can lay down."

"But I love this song." You whine, opening your eyes, "After this song?"

He sighs, "Okay." He smiles, "After this song, but no more shots."

You nod, laughing, "Yes sir." He laughs, shaking his head as he walks with you to the floor, pulling you close as you dance to the music.

Soon the song ends, and you say your goodbyes before leaving the party. You walk with your arm linked into Sam's, head resting on his shoulder, "Thank you."

"For what, sweetheart?" Sam glances down at you as you cross the street.

You let out a sigh, "For loving me for me."

He smiles, "You get so lovey when you're drunk." He kisses your head, "I love it. And I love you."

You tilt your head back, looking up at him as you blink slowly, "Like I really, really love you." He nods, "I know you do, baby." He rubs your shoulder, “Are you cold?”

You shake your head, “Not really.”

“Alright. We’re almost back to the hotel anyway.” He stops, waiting for the crosswalk to change and you start giggling.

He looks down at you, “What are you laughing at?”

“Want to see me do a cartwheel?” You look up at him and he shakes his head, “Maybe when you’re sober and can stand up by yourself.” He smiles and laughs with you, walking you across the street.

“My feet hurt.” You whine and Sam chuckles, “Come on.” He stops and turns away from you, “Jump up.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, “Ready?” You ask and he nods, “Yes ma’am.” You focus on jumping up on to his back as you tug your dress down more, “Okay.”

You jump and Sam catches your legs as they wrap around his waist. Your arms move to around his neck but loose enough so you don’t choke him out.

“You good?” He looks over his shoulder at you and you nod, “Yes.” He nods, laughing slightly, “Please don’t let go.”

You giggle, imagining yourself falling backwards, “I won’t.”

Sam carries you down the street to the hotel, setting you down as you wait for the elevator, “Still good?”

You nod, leaning against him, “Uh huh.”

“Ready for bed aren’t you?” He chuckles as you nod again, “Oh yeah.” He pulls you into him more, kissing your forehead a few times, “Come on.”

The doors open and he pulls you with him as he steps into it, pressing the button to go up.

“We’ll go in, get you some comfy pjs on. Some water maybe? You hungry?” He looks down at you and you shake your head, eyes closed as your head rests on his chest, “No, but I do want cuddles.”

“That’s already on the to do list, babe.” Sam chuckles, hugging you until the doors open again. He walks you out and picks you up bridal style and takes you to the room.

Once in, he walks you over, setting you down gently on the bed, “alright, let’s see what we have here.” He walks over to the suitcases, and you watch him as he digs through them until he finds one of his hoodies.

You smile as he turns to face you, “I love that sweatshirt.”

He nods, “I know you do. That’s why I brought it.”

You smile as you work the straps of your dress over your shoulders and down your arms. Sam kneels down, undoing your heels and slipping them off your feet, “Alright.” He stands up, “Stand up for me.”

He pulls you to your feet and you groan slightly, “I’m never drinking again.”

“You said that last time.” He chuckles and pushes your dress down your body until it pools at your feet, “Sit back down, babe.”

He scrunches up the hoodie to put it over your head and helps you get your arms in, “Do you want shorts or anything?”

You shake your head as you crawl up the bed and plop down, “No thank you.”

Sam smiles to himself as he goes and gets changed. You lay there, staring at the wall as you think about how much you really love Sam.

He walks back over, makeup wipe in hand, “Let’s get this off your face.” You smile up at him as you roll onto your back, closing your eyes as you let him wipe away your worn down makeup, “Thank you.”

He bends down, pecking your lips, “Of course.” He walks over to throw the wipe away before coming back over.

He sets a water down on the nightstand before climbing into bed next to you, “Come here, my little drunken cutie.”

You giggle slightly as you roll over to face him, lying on his chest, “I love you.”

He runs his fingers through your hair, “I love you.”

“No like.. you don’t.. you don’t even..” you hiccup, “..know how much I love you, Sam.” He kisses your head and rests his cheek against it, “You have no idea how much I love you, y/n.”

You smile, bringing a hand up to lay on his chest next to your face, “You smell really good.”

He chuckles, “Thanks? I think.”

“Mhm.” You sigh, “You’re my favorite person in the whole world.” You continue to drunkenly babble, “Like if I could have anyone I’d still pick you.”

“I appreciate that.” Sam laughs quietly, “I’d pick you, too. Over and over.”

“Really?” You look up at him and he nods, “Oh yeah. One hundred percent.” You smile, puckering your faded lipstick covered lips and he smiles before pressing his to yours.

“Get some sleep, baby.” He kisses your head and reaches over to switch the light off, “You’re going to need it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh and cuddle into him more, “I love you.”

“I love you.” Sam whispers as he settles into the bed, “So much.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The next morning, you wake up feeling like you were ran over.

Your body ached, your feet especially.

You look over, smiling as you see Sam lying there sleeping peacefully. You remember bits and pieces of the party, but you fully remember Sam taking care of you.

“Morning.” Sam’s voice makes you jump slightly, “Morning.”

He rubs his eyes and looks over at you, “How ya feeling?”

“Like a semi truck ran me over.” You groan as you stretch your arms above your head, “How are you feeling?”

He pulls you back to lay with him, “I’d feel even better if you came back to lay with me for a while.” You lay on your side, facing him, “I can do that.”

He laughs, eyes still closed, “Good.” He lays an arm over your waist, pulling you into him, “There’s a water on the stand for you, and if you have a headache there’s stuff in the suitcase for you. I can get it if-“

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, “I’m good.” You run your hand through his hair, admiring just how much he cares, “Thank you.”

“For?” He mumbles and you press a kiss to his forehead, “Taking such good care of me last night.” He smiles and opens his eyes, “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know, but I was probably a handful and-“

He cuts you off, “Not even close.” He leans up, stealing a kiss, “Now come back and cuddle me, dammit.” He laughs slightly and you lay down next to him, “I really do love you.”

Sam chuckles, “Would have never guessed.”

“Did I say it a lot last night?” You sigh, “Sorry I-“

“I’m not complaining. That’s my favorite thing to hear from you.” He kisses your cheek, “I’ll always say it back.” He kisses your cheek again, “I’ll always be here.” He kisses your lips, “I’ll always love you.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Let me know how you liked this!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[yu-melon]

Tails' winter coat makes him extra fluffy.

Unfortunately for him, this also means that he is no longer able to get up because Kit is not used to the cold, and has fallen asleep while cuddling with him for being soft and warm.

BWHA- ANON THATS SO CUTE WTH?!??!?!??!

Bonus winter coat Tails

[mmmichyyy]

40? for the prompt

#40. "am i your husband or your taxi service?"

the first time it happens, mickey doesn't think much of it.

can you pick me up after my shift? too tired to take the L

when mickey is near the station, he parks the van a block away. force of habit from when he and his brothers used to sneak up and collect from people who owed terry money. plus, he doesn't particularly want ian's coworkers to see their stolen ambulance, even though it's completely unrecognizable after debbie helped them revamp the entire thing and paint over it with the logo sandy designed.

here

i don't see you

i'm parked a block away

pick me up at the station

your legs don't work?

i'm tired :(

i drove the van

it's fine no one will be able to tell lol

mickey rolls his eyes and drops his phone in the cupholder. as he pulls up across the street from the station, he sees ian standing on the curb, chatting with someone wearing a matching EMT uniform, a shorter man with tan skin and curly hair.

mickey honks once, a bit impatient since he's hungry as fuck and there's a large pizza he ordered earlier waiting for them at their apartment. ian lifts his head and smiles. as he waves goodbye to his coworker and jogs over to the van, mickey doesn't miss the way the dude is gaping at mickey with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

the hell is this guy's problem?

"everything okay?" mickey asks, once ian buckles his seatbelt and reclines his seat.

"just tired." ian yawns. "had a long shift today."

"well," mickey puts the van in drive, reaching over the center console to ruffle ian's hair, promptly forgetting ian's weird coworker, "i already ordered a pizza so we can eat then turn in early."

ian smiles sleepily and interlaces his fingers with mickey's. "you're the best husband ever."

mickey shakes his head, biting back a smile. "sappy fucker."

*

after almost two weeks of ian asking to be picked up, mickey suspects something is up. not that he minds or anything, since he makes his own schedule nowadays. after the security business started turning a profit and ian went back to being an emt, he hired a couple of guys to drive the routes so he could work from home and catch up on admin work, freeing up a lot of time in his day to day.

but ian never used to mind the commute. he's the kind of long-legged freak who liked to take the scenic route and go on long runs in the morning, just for fun. absolutely deranged behaviour, in mickey's opinion. but lately, ian has been flashing his kicked-puppy eyes and asking to be chauffeured like a pampered prince and, well. mickey could never resist spending more time with his husband, so he hasn't said anything. not yet, anyway. god he's so whipped.

the excuses ian came up with, however, were more unbelievable as it went on, ranging from the train broke down (mickey knew for a fact it didn't), to spraining his elbow (though he had no problem throwing mickey on the bed later that night with his supposedly injured arm), to how it was going to rain later (it was sunny all day without a cloud in sight).

when mickey tried to call him out on his bullshit, ian either got down on his knees or flipped mickey over and fucked him senseless into the bed, promptly making mickey forget what the hell he was trying to say.

it's gotten to the point where ian stopped making excuses and simply asked mickey to come get him. which truthfully, mickey doesn't mind at all. but he just finds it odd how his beefy athletic husband had gotten so lazy.

"what's with you?" mickey finally asks one day, as ian climbs into the passenger seat.

ian blinks innocently. "what do you mean, dear husband of mine?"

mickey rolls his eyes. "am i your husband or your fuckin' taxi driver? 'cause i've been picking your ass up every day for the past two weeks when you have two perfectly functioning legs."

ian huffs, crossing his arms. "maybe i just want to spend more time with you."

"we live together," mickey points out flatly, "how much more time do you need?"

"i–"

a tap on the glass interrupts them, and mickey turns to see a woman with brown hair tied back in a ponytail, enthusiastically gesturing at him to roll down the window.

"the fuck?" mickey turns to ian, whose face has turned slightly pink. "did you forget something at the station?"

"ah, no." ian scratches his head sheepishly. "sue is just being... sue."

sue waves her hand again and mickey reluctantly lowers the window.

"mickey, this is sue, my supervisor, and sue, this is–"

"the elusive husband." sue grins. "i've heard a lot about you, mickey."

mickey raises his brow. "have you now."

"oh sure," she says, ignoring ian's frantic head shaking, "ian won't shut up about you, yapping on and on about mickey this and mickey that. we're all jealous at the station actually, everyone just complains about their partners while ian keeps gushing about how perfect and amazing his husband is. his words."

"huh." that explains a lot, actually, why there was always someone different waiting with ian every time he came to pick him up, and why they all stared at him like a circus freak. "well, i bet ian didn't tell you the time we stole an ambu–"

"okay," ian cuts in loudly, reaching over to turn the key in the ignition, "we're leaving. i'll see you tomorrow, sue."

"come to the company picnic next month," sue calls out. "it's a potluck and everyone is bringing their family. it'll be fun!"

"uh sure," mickey says, even though a social gathering with ian's nosy coworkers sounds like the least fun thing he's ever heard of. he looks over at ian, slumped in his seat, avoiding mickey's eyes. "I'll check my schedule."

once mickey drives around the corner, he playfully flicks his finger at ian's temple and ian rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"you yap about me to your coworkers," mickey teases. "you're so fuckin' whipped."

"whatever," ian grumbles. "stupid sue calling me out."

"is that why you keep asking me to pick you up?" mickey asks, amused. "to parade me around like a little show dog?"

"well, eduardo blabbed to everyone he saw you, then everyone kept asking about you and wanted to see you in person, so..."

"hm." mickey reaches over and brushes his thumb over ian's palm. "what do you say about me?"

ian links their fingers together and sighs. "that you're attentive. funny. caring. protective. loyal. the ideal man."

mickey laughs. "you're really overselling me here, gallagher. did you forget i'm an ex-convict, pimp and drug dealer?"

ian waves him off and continues. "kind. loving. perfect in every single way, except when you leave your socks on the floor. oh and that you're hot as hell with an ass that won't quit."

"you talked about my ass?"

"okay, i didn't say the last part," ian amends, "your ass belongs to just me. but i meant everything else i said."

"you really are a sappy fucker."

"you love it."

"i'd love it even more if i didn't have to be your chauffeur every day, at least they get paid to drive back and forth."

"you come with me to the picnic, i'll pay you with favours in bed. i'll even throw in a big tip."

"a big tip, huh..."

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Time to Heal -Oneshot

*Changed some of the details to this being after TFATWS and before Thunderbolts.  Steve never left.  Sam isn’t Captain America, neither is John.  Some details are obviously muddled.* Word count: 2711

After a long fight during a mission, Bucky and Walker trudged back to the Quinjet, where Y/N, their resident I.T. specialist and Bucky’s girlfriend, stood waiting for them in the hanger area with her arms crossed, looking pissed.  She and John had been bickering over the comms the entire mission, and were both at their wits end.  

“God, you’re insufferable,” Y/N griped at John.  

“Oh sure, I’m the insufferable one,” John griped back, walking past her to the front of the plane.  “Why are you even here?  I guess they accept whoever nowadays into the Avengers, huh?  Dating the former Winter Soldier help land you a job?”

“Watch it, Walker,” Bucky called out from behind them.  

“Shut up, Bucky,” John said, glancing at him.  

Y/N smirked.  “I’m the only reason you even have access to that shield, Walker,” she said lowly.  “If I wasn’t so nice and convincing, you wouldn’t be allowed near it.”

“What?” John narrowed his eyes.  

Bucky took a step forward but she held a hand up to him.  “You aren’t worthy of it,” Y/N sneered at him.  “The only reason you’re even touching it right now is because I convinced Bucky to give you a chance, since Steve deserves retirement and Sam wasn’t appreciated by the American government.  Bunch of racists.”  She took a step toward John, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.  “You are just a placeholder.  You will never be Steve.  You will never be Sam.  Even with that serum running through your veins, it means nothing.  Because you are not a good man.”  She shook her head.  “How did it feel, when you beheaded that man on the street?”  John’s eyes widened at her, his frown deepening as he took a step back from her.  “That’s what I fucking thought,” Y/N said, then stepped away and turned back to Bucky.  John huffed behind her as she walked up to Bucky.  “Are you okay?” she asked quietly, reaching up and wiping at some blood near his eyebrow.

“I’m fine, babydoll,” Bucky said, smiling at her.  “Just a scratch.”

She looked him over carefully, then nodded with a slight smile.  “Okay,” she said.  She quickly kissed him then turned to the hanger door.  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, punching the button for it to close and turning back to face Bucky.  Just as it started to lift one of the bad guys they’d been fighting jumped onto the hanger door, running up behind Y/N and grabbing her into a chokehold, pointing his gun at her head.

Bucky and John both yelled.  Bucky drew his gun and pointed it at the man’s face, but before he could even speak the man jerked to the side and John shot.  He looked on in horror as the bullet pierced through the left side of Y/N’s sternum and into the bad guy behind her through his heart, killing him instantly.  He fell back, taking Y/N with him with a loud thud as the door closed and caught them.  Bucky immediately ran and pulled her off of him, tucking her into his arms as she panted, her eyes wide as she looked down at her chest in shock and then up at Bucky.

“No!  Babydoll, shit,” Bucky cried out, his own eyes wide as he laid her on the floor and put his metal hand over the wound, holding it down to stop the blood flow.  He looked back at John, who looked like he was in shock as well.  “What the hell did you do?” he screamed at him.

“Buck,” Y/N whispered, her lips trembling as she started to cry.  “It hurts.”

“I know, I know Y/N, but it’s gonna be okay,” Bucky said, turning his attention back to her.  “Get us in the air!” he yelled back at John, who quickly did as he said.  “Let’s get you in the cradle, babydoll, come on.”  Bucky hoisted her up into his arms, trying to be careful as she cried out in pain at the jostling.  He took her over to the cradle, the machine that they had kept in the Quinjet since it was first used to help heal Clint years earlier.  He turned it on and then laid her gently into it, pressing buttons until the lid shut over her.  

“Y/N’s been hit, we need medical,” John’s voice carried from the front as he spoke toward a monitor.

“What happened?” Sam asked incredulously, looking at Bucky and Y/N behind John.

“A straggler jumped on board as we were about to take off, and…” he hung his head.  “She was hit by friendly fire.”

Sam’s frown deepened.  “Just get here as fast as possible.  We’ll be ready when you land.”

The call cut and John looked back at Bucky and Y/N.  The anesthesia inside the cradle hit Y/N’s face, helping her breathing even out as her eyes fluttered closed.  Her hand reached to the side of the glass enclosure, her fingers pressing against it towards Bucky.  His flesh hand pressed against the glass as he watched her fall asleep, the lasers and little wire arms and trappings working on her inside the cradle.

“Just hold on, babydoll,” Bucky whispered, fighting back tears.  “We’re almost there.  Just heal.”

***

It was a flurry of voices and bodies as they landed, a medical team running to the Quinjet and unloading the cradle with Y/N in it and rushing to the medbay.  Bucky tried to stay with her but was told to wait outside as they closed the medbay doors on him.  He stared at the doors as Sam and Steve talked to John behind him. 

“How did this happen?” Steve asked, his voice low and angry.

“He shot her,” Bucky snarled, turning to face them.  His anger was now winning out, being kept on the back burner the entire flight so he could focus only on Y/N.  Now he was incensed, and started stalking toward John.  “He shot the guy through her!”

Steve looked at John incredulously as Sam quickly got in Bucky’s way, trying to hold him back.  “Buck, wait–”

“No!  He shot her!” He screamed, pushing past Sam but being intercepted again by Steve.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?  You killed my wife!”

John looked like he could cry at any moment, recoiling from Bucky.  “I didn’t mean to.  He was holding her and I had a clear shot, but he twisted at the last second.”  Bucky got out of Steve’s grasp and cornered John against the wall, his metal hand wrapping around his throat as he lifted him off the floor, Y/N’s blood still on his metal hand coating John’s neck and uniform.  John choked, trying to pull Bucky’s hand off.  “She’s not dead, Bucky!  I’m sorry!”

Steve and Sam pulled Bucky away, holding his arms back as he struggled against them.  He eventually let them pull him back and then shrugged them off, glaring daggers at John.  He sniffed, realizing he’d been crying.  He pointed at John.  “If she dies, I’ll kill you,” he growled.  He turned and walked away into one of the waiting rooms off the hallway.  He heard Steve follow him, Sam and John’s heated exchange muffling as Steve closed the door behind them.  Bucky paced the room, his flesh hand running through his hair and tugging harshly at it.

“Buck,” Steve called to him, approaching him slowly with his hands out in front.  “You need to breathe.”

“He killed her,” Bucky cried, his emotions finally catching up to him.  “It was too close to her heart.  Steve,” he hiccuped, his breath stuttering as his tears fell heavily.  “He took her from me.  I can’t…I can’t do this without her.”

“She’s gonna be okay, Buck,” Steve said, pulling him to the bathroom attached to the waiting room and helping him wash off Y/N’s blood from the metal.  He dried off his metal hand then reached out and pulled Bucky into a firm hug.  “She’s going to heal.  Y/N’s tough.  She’s not gonna leave you.  Knowing her, she won’t allow it,” he said, huffing out a laugh.  He rubbed Bucky’s back, holding him until Bucky finally melted into the hug, clutching onto Steve tightly, leaning his head against Steve’s shoulder, his tears wetting his shirt.  “You just need to hold on and be brave for her, okay?  She’s gonna be fine, I know it.”

Bucky nodded, his heart hopeful but his mind running wild with what-ifs and worst case scenarios.  What if she didn’t wake up?  What if she was dead?  They had just started their lives together a year prior, it wasn’t fair.  Why was he being punished by the universe, God, karma, whatever it was like this?  What did he do to deserve it?  He held Steve tight, trying to ground himself from his mind completely falling apart.

***

Bucky stared at Y/N as she laid asleep in the hospital bed.  She had come out of surgery a couple of hours before, and now they were just waiting to see how she would be as she recovered.  Her skin looked ashen, scaring him further, but her heartbeat was strong, the incessant beeping of the heart monitor at least reminding him she was still here.  His flesh hand held her hand, his thumb running along her knuckles repeatedly.  He leaned down for the hundredth time and kissed her fingers, the back of her hand, then twisting her hand to kiss her palm.  

“How’s she doing?” Steve asked as he stepped into the room, walking to the opposite side of the bed from Bucky.  He pulled up a second chair and sat, looking at her monitors and then looking at Bucky.

“Doctor said the surgery went well, and they repaired the damage done by the bullet,” Bucky responded, his eyes never leaving her hand.  “Though she’s gonna have a pretty gnarly scar on her chest.  Now it’s just a waiting game to see how she recovers.”

Steve hummed and nodded, reaching out for Y/N’s other hand and squeezing it.  “She’s got some more color in her face than before.  Looking good Y/L/N,” he smiled at her teasingly.

Bucky slightly chuckled.  Sam then came into the room, checking on her.  “Hey, man, when she wakes up, if you guys would like a place to stay low and recuperate, you’re always welcome at my place,” Sam said to Bucky.  “That ocean breeze does wonders.”

Bucky smiled at him.  “That sounds great,” he said appreciatively.

“When do we leave?” Y/N suddenly whispered.

All three of their heads snapped to look at her.  “Y/N!” Bucky cried, standing quickly and hovering over her, his hands reaching up and cupping her face.  

“Hey gorgeous,” she breathed, grunting as she cleared her throat.  

Steve quickly got her a cup of water and held it up to her lips, and she drank it all slowly.  “Go slow, Y/N,” he said as he set the cup down.  “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” Y/N grimaced.  “Don’t wanna do that again.”

Bucky shook his head.  “You’re not going on anymore in-field missions, you hear me?”

Y/N smirked at him.  “You’re so hot when you’re protective,” she said.

Steve and Sam laughed, while Bucky shook his head at her with a small smile.  “How does that sound, babydoll?  You wanna go to Louisiana?  Try to relax and heal?”

“First vacation in years?  Sounds perfect,” Y/N nodded, then looked over at Sam.  “Thank you, Sam.”

***

As Bucky held Y/N’s hand and helped her walk toward the private jet Pepper had set up to take them to Louisiana, they heard someone running from behind them.

“Y/N!  Wait!” 

She turned to see John running towards them.  Bucky frowned and stepped in front of her.  “It’s okay, Buck,” she said quickly, pulling at his shoulder.

John slowed to a walk until he was a few feet away from them.  Bucky looked back and forth between the two of them, then finally stepped to the side, but kept an arm around her shoulders as he glared at John.

“I-I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” John said, glancing at Bucky but focusing on Y/N.  “It was a mistake, and I’m truly sorry for not being able to…not being more careful.  I…”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, nodding at him.  “I accept your apology.  I know it was an accident, and you were just trying to help me.”

John sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging like a weight had been lifted.  He nodded back at her with a small smile.  “Thank you.  I hope you feel better soon.”

Y/N nodded again at him, then turned and walked toward the stairs of the plane.  John tried to speak to Bucky but Bucky held a hand up.  “She may forgive you, but I don’t,” he said quietly so she wouldn’t hear.  “I never will.”

John’s lips tightened, but he nodded in understanding.  They stared at each other for a moment before Bucky finally turned and jogged to Y/N, helping her up the plane stairs.  Steve and Sam were soon loaded on board, then they lifted off toward New Orleans.

***

“I really like it here,” Y/N mused one day, watching the willows sway in the Autumn breeze outside Sam’s house as she sat in the rocking chair on the front porch.

Bucky looked at her and smiled.  It had been a little over a month and a half since they’d come to Louisiana for her to heal.  It was humid, and hot, but Y/N loved the nature and the atmosphere in New Orleans.  They had been slowly going out into the city, enjoying the nightlife carefully, so as not to exacerbate her injury.  Overall she was healing well, but it was a slow and steady process.  Steve, Sam and Sam’s sister, Sarah, along with her kids had been a big help to Y/N with whatever it was she needed.  Steve and Sam had been called away to a mission, leaving Bucky and Y/N alone this weekend as Sarah and the boys went on a fishing trip on the family boat.  

“Me, too,” Bucky agreed, turning to look at her in the rocking chair opposite her.  “Maybe we should move here.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up and she smiled wide.  “Can we?” she asked excitedly.

“Why not?” Bucky asked, reaching over and taking her hand.  

“Well, you’re a bit busy being a superhero,” Y/N said, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb.  

“Only as long as you want me to be,” Bucky retorted, squeezing her hand.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Y/N, everything I do is for you,” Bucky said, giving her as serious a look as possible.  “You’re my everything, babydoll.  You say you want me to quit doing this and stay with you, I’ll do it.  You and I are a package deal now.  And besides, I like New Orleans,” he smirked.  

Her eyes turned watery as she listened to him.  “So if I say that Steve told me you called me your wife, and that I would love nothing more than to be your wife, what would you say?”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he thought back, then huffed a laugh.  “He’s so nosy,” Bucky chuckled, making Y/N laugh at Steve’s antics.  “I’d say let’s get married.  Today.  Tomorrow.  Hell, I would have done it yesterday.  Pick the day and I’m there, babydoll.”

Y/N’s tears finally fell, her smile wide but trembling.  “Really?”

“Really,” Bucky said, getting out of his rocking chair and kneeling in front of her, gripping both of her hands in his.  He pulled her left hand up and kissed over her ring finger knuckle.  “I’ll get you a ring.  Buy you the prettiest dress.  Make you the one and only Mrs. Barnes.”  He could feel his own tears start to build as he swallowed harshly.  “Will you marry me, Y/N Y/L/N?  Be my babydoll forever?”

Y/N let out a watery laugh.  “Yes,” she whispered, leaning over and kissing him deeply, before pulling away and leaning her forehead against his forehead.  “I’ll marry you, gorgeous.” 

[historyslittlebish]

How would king Baldwin react to utter and complete devotion ? As in writing full pages about him etc etc

a/n: Oopsy, this was sitting in my inbox for like weeks. Sorry its been a bit but I'll humor you with some cute/funny hcs!

==========================================

Warning: fluffy, y/n is kinda a bit of a stalker, Baldwin being himself

Note: No romantic stuff is detailed but I made it so you can choose to be a friend, worker, or romantic interest

It was a simple accident!

Yet his curiosity couldn't be satiated.

Seeing you run off to your quarters in a hurry made him wonder.

What could you possibly be doing?

For once when you were off doing your duties he became a little too curious..As his servant he couldn't help but observe you observe him?

He'd often catch your gaze on him, quietly observing him do his duties as well.

Whenever given the chance, you'd always go up to your room and write non-stop. Even on the job you'd carry a little notebook and write down anything that Baldwin did.

He of course had no idea and thought you were just..odd-ish..

But of course spending days seeing you run off to your room to do who knows what, of course his mind will spin and his thoughts will wander, simply thinking what could you be doing..

These thoughts have been from just simply wanting to rest to planning a coup.

He admits its foolish of him to think such things but as a ruler it's important to be weary.

Finally his curiosity got the better of him and he wandered into the quarters.

He saw a little leather journal sitting on your bed with a discarded quill and ink cup on the stand.

He carefully opened up the journal in the same spot on the bed, wondering what he would find, simply a daily planner? Did you like to write as a hobby? Planning some sort of overthrow?

Imagine his surprise when he sees rants of how great he is, how'd you think he'd be the best king in the world, how you wish there was a cure for his illness.

As he continued to read through the pages, he came across a few sketches of him, just him, in his mask but the mask having fine details, while sitting on his throne or playing chess, and others just random doodles.

He was...surprised.

Judging by the rants and words, you felt utter devotion for him as a king, you admired his work and respected him to great lengths.

Baldwin sorta..felt his heart swell.

He knew that possibly many people, including servants, found him weak or too ill-ridden to be a king but in the same breath help him with all sorts of things.

Yet here you were, praising him for his talents, his bravery, his intelligence. He couldn't help but crack a small smile.

He carefully closed the book and swiftly left, a new plan coming to mind.

The next time he saw you, he came up to you and revealed that he saw the journal and read some of it (there was much to read but he didn't have the time).

Of course you'd be very flustered but before you could say anything, he decided to give you a new job, to be his personal scribe (and mayhaps a friend?).

You'd often join him in any of his activities and he'd share personal interests and thoughts he has, no matter how random, thoughts and things no one else knew about him.

You felt honored to be able to know such things and you'd often detail his words, his thoughts, and behaviors in your notes, keeping track of anything and everything.

Baldwin felt a deep connection with you.

He never really talks to many people about such leisurely things.

So to have someone to express his interests and thoughts and ideas but them being actually interested is..an idea that makes a rush of dopamine clouds his brain.

He is proud for you, and he's glad you like him so much, enough to write endless things about him.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

hi, I'm not sure if you accept requests rn, but if you do, can u make a oneshot of sanemi nursing giyuu back to health after a near-death experience? like a demon, or maybe drowning, if not that's totally fine!

hhihi anon<3

Yes, I do accept requests from here bc I get considerably less on tumblr (which is a relief btw-), so I'll do it

I hope I wrote this quickly enough ;x; I think it took a couple of days, sorry

Thoughts of you | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Floof w/ practically non-existent angst

Note: Aaaa there wasn't a lot of the 'nursing back to health' IM SORRY- bc it was mostly giyuu falling in love towards middle-end

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Giyuu had worked himself to near-death quite literally. It wasn't on purpose, really! He had just gone... overboard. He'd gotten distracted. Which was unlike himself, unlike a Hashira. But it happened, and there wasn't any going back. He had trained from hour to hour, little to no stop, slept about two hours total in the last three days, and hadn't bothered to get any proper food. He supposed it was some prolonged adrenaline that kept him throughout the days, letting him trudge on. He had gotten another mission, at one point, after these days of totally-taking-care-of-himself, and had gone along tiredly. He had no time to rest, after all.

He had arrived on time, luckily, and had decapitated the demon within the first ten minutes. There was a couple other demons, which took longer to kill because they were hiding. Once finding them, he sapped up the strength he had left and killed them as well. He found, however, that he had used up any energy he'd had left, and tipped over. He wobbled, trying and failing to regain his balance. Then next thing he knew, he was submerged in water, arms aching as he attempted to swim to the surface. He hadn't realized there was an ocean here.

Then he realized there had been some sort of river, maybe. Connecting to a waterfall? It was either considerably deeper than he'd imagined or he was simply too exhausted to get up. He was floating upside down, his eyes shut tight to prevent water from entering them. He felt something sharp grazing his arm and flinched away before realizing it was his katana. He struggled for a moment, trying to sheathe it, but failed. He didn't feel like moving. His body felt like lead and he didn't know if he would ever move again. He felt the breath being drawn out from his lungs, replaced by water. It stung and he coughed, then realized that struggling would only worsen the pain. He stopped, allowing the water to enter his mouth, ignoring the throb in his lungs and the impulse to cough it out.

And suddenly he was flying. Rising? What was happening? His senses had long since faded to a low dull but he felt strong arms wrapping around his torso, lifting him up and out of the water. He felt heavier, the water that had soaked into his clothing weighing him down.

"Damn you, Tomioka..." a distant voice from above him said, annoyance and concern lacing the words.

Giyuu coughed pitifully, the air hitting him like a gust of arctic wind. He was placed down, grass poking at his skin. Hands pressed on his chest, making his cough more, water slowly forcing his way into or out of his lungs. He felt like he couldn't breathe, and didn't make a move to try. He vaguely registered lips against his own, the blissful feeling of air in his lungs again, before blacking out, his senses going dark.

He woke up, eventually. It hurt to breathe and he struggled to draw in a steady breath. His hand stung and he recalled having cut it somehow. His head throbbed like a lightbulb, fading in and out. He sat up slowly, dizzy from the blood that rushed to his head. He blinked. He was laying in a futon, a blanket draped over his body. He lifted his injured hand and found it bandaged. He looked around. He didn't recognize this place. It was unfamiliar to him, and he hated it.

His breath was constricted, though, and if he couldn't breathe well there really wasn't any chance of leaving. He coughed, the unsettling feeling of water still in his lungs making him want to tear them out.

His coughing had brought attention to him and he heard only a minute later he heard a clattering sound of something wooden falling, then footsteps making their way quickly to the room. He went to pretend he was asleep but was a moment too late when, to his shock, Sanemi entered. 

He walked to the futon, kneeling down. "You're an idiot, Tomioka, you know that, right?"

Giyuu didn't respond, wondering if this was Sanemi's house then—or if he had simply been put up to the task of helping him.

Sanemi let out a breath. "Fine, be it your way. Does anything hurt particularily badly?"

Giyuu considered this and shook his head. No, nothing did. It stung when he breathed in and his hand and head hurt, but none of them were bad. He'd definitely experienced worse before.

"Good," Sanemi said with a nod. "Now, tell me what you were doing tipping over into the water on your mission."

"I'm sorry," Giyuu mumbled. He didn't know why he had let down his guard, let himself fall. He honestly didn't.

"You better be. Also, I had Kocho run some tests on you too. Turns out you haven't eaten or drunk enough water in the past few days or so, also you've had not even close to enough sleep, and according to your crow you haven't stopped training to do much in the first place," Sanemi said, an exasperated sigh leaving his body. "You're an idiot, Tomioka. Take better care of yourself."

Giyuu hesitated. "She can see that much from a test?"

Sanemi lifted a shoulder. "It was also just eyeing you. Those eyebags were enough indication in terms of sleep."

"Oh." 

Sanemi nodded.

"I feel better now, I can go home," Giyuu said, starting to stand.

Sanemi pushed him back down. "No. You're staying here and sleeping until you get better. I don't want to see you getting up for anything except the bathroom, alright?"

Giyuu frowned. "But-"

"No." 

There were no more arguments to be said. Sanemi left to go make some food and Giyuu was on his own again, fuming.

He looked down at himself and realized, for the first time, that he wasn't in his own clothes. Had Sanemi changed him?

He glanced around, not seeing his haori around. A sort of panic rose in him and he scrambled up, wobbling for a second, before making his way to the hall where he'd seen Sanemi go. He scampered through it, looking right and left. Had his haori fallen off or been ripped or?-

Sanemi stopped him, clear annoyance directed towards Giyuu. "What the hell are you doing up? I told you to stay down unless you needed the bathroom!"

Giyuu ignored him. "Where's... my haori?" he asked quietly, urgently.

Sanemi let out a breath. "If that was all, you could've just asked." Then his expression softened as he noticed the panic in Giyuu's voice. "It's fine. I washed it and it's drying now. You were soaked from the river, I wasn't about to leave you in those clothes and let you get sick."

Giyuu relaxed. He trusted that Sanemi wouldn't do anything to his haori—he didn't have any reason to, after all. "...thank you," he mumbled.

Sanemi nodded. "Now, back to bed."

He marched him back to the room, tucking him in. 

"I'll bring you your food. So cooperate, okay?"

Giyuu nodded.

Sanemi nodded back, gave him one last look, before closing the door and going back down the hall.

×××

Despite Sanemi's usual arrogance, he was surprisingly tender when caring for Giyuu. There were times he reminded him of Tsutako, his hands gently wrapping bandages back around Giyuu's injured hand, feeding him food when Giyuu lapsed into some sort of fever for a couple days. It was soothing, almost, and Giyuu found great comfort from it. He didn't know that Sanemi was able to be like this but he loved it and hoped that maybe it would last a bit longer.

Though he was considerably kinder to Giyuu, Sanemi still found ways to berate him, getting mad at him when he tried getting up on his own during the fever. 

While carrying him to the bathroom, Sanemi would snap at him, saying that he was being stubborn for not letting himself be helped. It was ironic that he reminded Giyuu of Tsutako; they were complete opposites in every way possible. But it was what seperated him from Tsutako, it was what made him his own person. And it was what made Giyuu's heart throb almost yearningly around Sanemi. He didn't understand it, at first. He figured it was just a reminising of his past days as a child—those of which he could barely remember, he might add. And yet as time passed on, he found it wasn't that. He found he had fallen for Sanemi. Somehow.

He thought it would be a fleeting crush. Maybe just happy to be with Sanemi when he was being nicer. But it grew stronger as days passed. Then Giyuu was allowed out, he was released back into the comfort of his own home. Yet he went back to Sanemi the following day, offering him some food as a thank you. They sat together and talked, drank tea and had some mochi. It was wonderful.

He managed to convince himself, at one point, that he was only coming to thank him for it. That it meant nothing. But it became clear, and he couldn't deny it anymore, when he stopped by the following days, found himself around Sanemi constantly, and... And his thoughts seemed to trail to Sanemi no matter what. Oh, look, a dog! Sanemi likes dogs. A cat? Sanemi never cared for cats. There's a snake in that pet shop! Obanai has a snake. Sanemi and Obanai are friends, right? Obanai is one of the few Sanemi actually gets along with. Hmm, maybe some tea would be good. Sanemi seemed to like tea—or at least have it often with ohagi. 

No, yeah, no. Giyuu was in love.

Upon Sanemi's threats, Giyuu started taking more mind to himself. He tried to sleep at least a couple hours per day, tried to eat and drink more water, kept track of the time and his own body while training. He felt proud of himself for going through with Sanemi's words—then immediately felt childish for being proud. But he continued at it. Although if he hadn't, he probably would've been forced to by Shinobu or Sanemi in the first place. 

Usually, on his missions, Giyuu managed to avoid any injuries worse than a scratch. Except he had gotten distracted this time. His distraction had caught himself off guard and, as he hurried to get back to the present, the demon had managed to slash his leg where the uniform wasn't protecting him. It wasn't a particularily strong demon, so it didn't do much harm, but blood still dampened his clothing. Giyuu killed the demon quickly and then stumbled out of the village he had been in, avoiding people. His calf stung and he winced as he walked. 

He realized that the closest house he knew of that he could go to from here wasn't his own or the Butterfly Estate. Rather, it was Sanemi's. Figuring he could persuade Sanemi for, maybe, some bandages, he rushed over, ignoring the pain that stabbed his leg as he ran. 

He knocked on the door. Luckily, dawn was approaching, so Sanemi was home. The door opened and Sanemi rolled his eyes upon seeing Giyuu injured. He grabbed Giyuu by the elbow and tugged him inside, closing the door behind him.

"Are you going to keep injuring yourself and running to me for help?" Sanemi asked with slight irritation, searching through his drawers for something.

Giyuu lifted a shoulder. "I didn't come to you the first time."

"Still." Sanemi turned, bandages and some cotton balls in hand. He knelt, having Giyuu sit on a chair, and rolled Giyuu's pant leg up, wiping the blood away then dabbing the cotton balls with something and cleaning the wound. He wrapped the bandages around it, tucked it in, then looked up. "Doesn't hurt bad, does it?"

Giyuu shook his head. "It's fine. The demon wasn't that strong. I just... got distracted."

Sanemi frowned. "So you're off forgetting you're also human and overworking yourself to half-death, then you're getting distracted and getting injured by a weak demon now?" he asked pointedly, a disappointed sigh leaving him. 

"...when you put it like that," Giyuu mumbled. 

"Why the fuck were you even distracted?" Sanemi asked, resting a hand on Giyuu's knee as he pulled himself up.

Giyuu hesitated. "I was... thinking."

"About?" 

"...you?"

Sanemi paused. "What?"

"Sorry, nevermind, nothing," Giyuu said quickly, standing suddenly and nearly knocking Sanemi and the chair over. 

"What the fuck do you mean, me?" Sanemi asked, stepping in front of Giyuu and stopping him from moving forward.

"No, I..." Giyuu shook his head. "Nothing." 

"...Tomioka," Sanemi said. 

Giyuu looked up. 

"Tomioka, do you like me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W...WHAT???" Giyuu asked, startled. He fell back onto the chair in his shock.

"God, why are you shouting now?" Sanemi said with a sigh.

"That was so random..." Giyuu mumbled.

"Yeah, well, you're acting like you like me. So either you clarify that you're not, or I'm going to keep you here until you tell me something worth hearing," Sanemi said, poising his hands on his hips. 

Giyuu let out a breath. "I can't clarify something that's not true."

Sanemi cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"You told me to clarify that I didn't like you," Giyuu said quietly.

Sanemi took a moment to understand. "Oh. Oh, so you do?"

Giyuu nodded slowly, looking away. It couldn't hurt to tell him, right? He would probably just act as he had before he had helped him. Angry and annoyed at him. 

And yet.

"Hm. That's unexpected," Sanemi admitted. 

"Can I go now?" Giyuu asked. 

Sanemi thought for a moment. "No."

"But I told you-"

"Yeah, shut up," Sanemi said with a huff. He glanced down at Giyuu's lap the promptly sat down, facing him. 

Giyuu flushed and tried pushing Sanemi off for a half second, before his hands fell to his side and he looked up at Sanemi. "What're you...?"

"If you like me, then would you date me?" Sanemi asked curiously, ignoring his question.

Giyuu considered this. "Only if you liked me too."

"Then will you be my boyfriend?" Sanemi inquired, sounding so casual it took Giyuu a moment to understand the question.

"I... Wha- You- I said if you liked me, only," Giyuu stuttered, struggling to comprehend what exactly had happened. 

"I do," Sanemi said. 

"But... what? How? What?"

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Do you want to be my boyfriend or do you want me to slap you?"

Giyuu grew quiet again. "Fine."

"Fine what? Because if you don't clarify, I'm going to assu-"

"We can date," Giyuu interrupted, averting his eyes. "If you want it too."

Sanemi smiled. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Then, abruptly, he kissed him. It was fleeting, but it felt like an eternity of bliss, somehow, and Giyuu longed for it again when he pulled away.

Sanemi stood, moving back to give Giyuu room. "Alright, now go back home and take care of your leg. Don't keep injuring yourself and being idiotic."

Giyuu opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, unsure. He stood and walked to the door. Sanemi saw him out, watching him leave.

Then, once outside, Giyuu turned back and walked back to the door. "Can you kiss me again?" he asked tentatively.

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "Want a good-bye kiss?"

Giyuu lifted a shoulder. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all." Sanemi leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Giyuu's lips, moving back a moment later. "Bye, Tomioka."

Giyuu lowered his head in a quick bow. "Thank you."

Sanemi's mouth curved in a smile. "See you later."

"'Later," Giyuu agreed, walking back home.

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« Word count: 2600 »

those oneshots where you like how it started and hate how it ended

smh I can never write something where I like the whole thing 😭