#possibly the most dumbest thing i have ever thought of

[hanrinz]

no one but to my recent drabble abt lil shoto and bigbro touya: "NO, shoto wouldn't copy touya!"

me af: yeah🤨🤨 what about this pic then huh!?

[hyunsuloves]

omg girl I'd just seen your "squid game women with a timid s/o" , could you do the same but for men? thanksss 💖

super shy.

synopsis … squid game men with a timid s/o ꨄ︎. (or a part two to this.)

pairings … myung-gi, dae-ho, jun-ho, thanos, nam-gyu, min-su x fem!reader (separately)

warnings … fem reader, non game au, some may be ooc but what else is new, i apologize for any typos !!

lovely notes … the post i did with the female characters did surprisingly well omg..

꩜ [ 857 words ]

myung-gi / player 333 is so similar yet so different from you. he’s not a candid person, but he doesn’t always keep to himself.

he tends to keep under wraps but isn’t opposed to speaking out around others.

he encourages you to speak up for yourself, though he’s joking the majority of the time. he likes to tease you way too often for comfort.

“you know you can speak up for yourself, right?” “myung-gi, leave me the hell alone.” “this is what happens when i try to help you. so ungrateful.”

he orders for the both of you, so even if you weren’t so shy, he’d take upon the task himself either way.

he makes fun of people in awkward social settings to ease your worries. he’ll whisper the dumbest jokes ever to make you feel less awkward around the large crowd of bodies.

the both of you just stay near one another while in public. there’s nothing better than the proximity of a loved one when in the worst possible social setting.

dae-ho / player 388 is your polar opposite. he’s very social, energetic, and forthright.

he’s a social butterfly wherever he goes, and you have the misfortune of constantly being dragged along.

he’s always ready to go when you are. even if he isn’t finished socializing, he’s saying his farewells as soon as you tell him that you��re ready to leave.

“hey, you ready to go?” “we’ve only been here a few hours. go have fun, baby.” “no, let’s go. i wanna go home with you.”

despite dragging you to every social event ever, he’ll speak for you without even thinking about it. even if you can speak for yourself, he talks for you. he always feels slightly guilty for dragging you out of your humble abode to accompany him to his affairs.

he speaks up for you every time, without fail. he defends you, orders your food for you, the whole deal.

jun-ho is your contrast, as he’s far from shy. he isn’t always outspoken.

while he has a more free-spoken personality than yours, he has moments when he’s just as reserved as you are.

he’s the first to your defense when he sees someone troubling you. even if you weren’t his partner, he’d rush to your defense nonetheless.

“hey, tell me if they say anything else to you.” “of course. thank you, jun-ho.”

the way this man is so protective over you is so nonsensical. he’d be defensive nonetheless, but especially with your timid nature.

thanos / player 230 couldn’t be more different from you. he’s the most eccentric and outgoing person you have ever met.

from social gatherings to parties, to any get-together he can find, you’ll find him there. of course, he drags you along to wherever he’s going.

he urges you to speak for yourself more often than not. although he doesn’t mind speaking for you, a lot of the time he’ll put you in situations in which you have no choice but to verbalize.

“señorita, learn how to speak for yourself.” “stop talking to me, su-bong.”

to no one’s surprise, he’d fight over you if needed. if you’re being targeted, he’d attack the individual without a second thought.

his favorite thing to do is fluster you. compliments upon compliments is all you hear from this man, and it’s all to see you act all diffident.

nam-gyu / player 124 is, like thanos, your polar. he’s a very extroverted person, opposite your timid demeanor.

he’s a very lax, social type of person. he likes to relax when he’s at get-togethers, similar to you.

he loves to flatter you. it’s not even to fluster you, he just wants you to be so conscious of how much he loves you all the time.

“you look so pretty, baby.” “leave me alone, nam-gyu.” “what? i mean it.”

he’s the first person to come to your defense, as expected. even though he’s the type to let himself be belittled, he’d never let it happen to you.

he’s the kind of person you can sit in silence with and not have it be awkward. silence with him is quite comforting.

min-su / player 126 is literally your twin. the both of you are the most reserved people known to man.

the amount of times you’ve just sat in silence, enjoying the other's presences is too much to count. the two of you simply sit in quietness.

if it comes to something like ordering food, you often take the initiative because min-su is way too shy for his own good.

“can you order for me?” “of course, love. i got it.” “thank you so much. where would i be without you?”

the only person either of you is comfortable around is the other. you’re a wreck around others, but it’s absolute tranquility when you’re with one another.

if it came to defending one another, you’d come to his defense without hesitance. he’s more tentative to defend either one of you, so it usually comes down to you doing it.

the both of you are a shy pairing and a very likely couple that surprised no one.

[cruel-seduction]

Harry Potter Headcanon ||18+

Harry James Potter as Your Boyfriend 

(୨୧)  That Stupid Cute Look - He’s the kind of guy who gets flustered over the tiniest things, like you saying “I love you” for the first time, and he’s all wide-eyed like “Wait, you do?” (His face when he’s trying to process his feelings is pure heart-melting adorableness). You could just say “Hi” and he’s already blushing.

(୨୧) Protective, but in the Dumbest Ways He might try to protect you, but it comes out in the dumbest ways possible. Like that time he stepped in front of you to block a hex, even though you could have dodged it just fine. (You: “I’m literally a witch too, Harry.” Him: “I know. But you’re my witch.”)

(୨୧) The Awkward PDA He’s not great at showing affection in public, but when he does, it’s either accidental or he’s so shy about it that it ends up looking like the cutest thing ever. Like grabbing your hand when he’s scared or pulling you in for a hug, then quickly letting go like “Was that okay?” “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”

(୨୧) The Secret Softie Harry has a lot of inner turmoil, but with you, he’s the softest. He’ll pick you up a random book he knows you’ll love, just because he’s seen you reading about a topic once and now he wants to know you. He probably can’t even admit to himself how much he’d love to just curl up next to you and fall asleep. (That’s totally a boyfriend move, right?).

(୨୧) Harry's 'I'm Not Jealous' But Totally Is He’s the type to get all jealous when some dude tries talking to you, but he’s too nice and oblivious to show it properly. He’s probably lowkey eyeing the guy, but pretending to look at something else, hoping you won’t catch on to how possessive he’s being. (Meanwhile, he’s about to hex someone for looking at you too long). The poor guy thought that you would leave him for someone better. (Meanwhile him being the best) 

(୨୧) The Bedroom Eyes Don’t let his dorkiness fool you; when he really gets in the mood, his eyes change—like a stormy night, all intense and full of intent. He’s the kind of guy who whispers your name before he kisses you, just right before he pulls you closer, one hand in your hair. (Okay, but imagine him lowkey whispering some dirty shit in your ear, like “I want you splayed out on the table like my own personal feast.”)

(୨୧) The Protective Lover Let’s be real: Harry’s dangerous when he’s protective. Like, you’re in trouble? You better believe he’s about to go full rage-mode on anyone who dares harm you. And if he’s feeling super spicy? (Well, let’s just say you’d love to be pinned against a wall by those saviour arms.)

(୨୧) The Sensitive Boyfriend - He’ll listen to your problems like you’re the most important person in the world. You’re ranting about some dumb thing at work, and he’s just sitting there, nodding along, fully invested, even though half the time he doesn’t fully understand what you’re saying. He’s a good listener—and a better lover when it’s time to just show you he’s there for you. (When you feel like absolute shit, he’ll show up with snacks, a blanket, and the softest way of reminding you how much he loves you).

(୨୧) The Choking  - Okay, I’m not saying he’s into choking, but like, he’s the type to tease you just a little bit. He’d never go overboard, but during that heated moment where you’re both struggling for control, he’d totally be that guy to grip your throat just enough to have you gasping, all while looking at you with that smirk like “You like that, don’t you?” (Honestly, he could probably make you lose your mind with that sort of thing). 

(୨୧) The "I'm Not That Into You" Lie - If Harry ever said something like “I’m not that into you,” you’d be laughing and pulling him closer, because you know he’s lying. This man is obsessed with you, he just doesn’t know how to say it without feeling too exposed. (But the way he holds you in bed? No words needed, babe.)

(୨୧) The Honest Kisses - Every kiss feels like he’s giving you his soul. It's slow, tender, like he wants to savor the moment. But the second you start tugging at him, Harry’s turning up the heat—he’s kissing you harder, hands roaming because now that he’s sure you're his, he’s all in.

(୨୧) Clumsy in the Best Way - He’s constantly tripping over his own feet, knocking over glasses, and totally embarrassing himself, but in the best, most adorable way. (You’d just laugh and let him pull you in for a messy kiss, the two of you tangled up, both trying to get the other’s shirt off). So. Cute.

(୨୧) The Sweetness You Don’t Expect - For all his bravado, Harry’s the guy who remembers the little things. Like your favorite candy, the song you hum when you're happy, or that time you mentioned how you love the smell of the rain. And one day, poof, he shows up with it, looking shy but satisfied because he’s made you smile. (All the little things just make you want him even more).

(୨୧) Emotionally constipated but trying. Harry’s feelings hit him like a freight train, and he’s not great at expressing them. He’ll stare at you for an embarrassingly long time before blurting, “You’re...really important to me,” in that awkward, raspy voice. And you’re just like, “Harry, are you malfunctioning again?”

(୨୧) Domestic Harry is a gift from Merlin himself. This boy? In a t-shirt that’s a little too tight across the chest and low-hanging sweatpants while making tea in the morning? Yeah, it’s a religious experience. (Feel free to pray to Harry’s holy forearms; they deserve worship.)

(୨୧) Hot, awkward sex god vibes. Harry doesn’t know how sexy he is, which somehow makes him hotter. His hands? Big and calloused from Quidditch, and the way they grab your hips? Game over. And don’t get me started on his voice—low and raspy when he says, “Come here.” Like, YES, SIR, TAKE ME NOW.

(୨୧) Sweet but dumb declarations of love. “I think I’ve loved you since you laughed at me for falling off my broom that one time.” Like, WHAT?? (You’ll laugh, but it’s also the cutest thing ever because Harry’s love language is sincerity, and it hurts.)

(୨୧) The way he looks at you? WHEW. Those green eyes aren’t just legendary for killing Voldemort; they’re also designed to melt your soul. He’ll glance at you mid-laugh, and you’re left thinking, “Oh, so this is why people write ballads about love.”

(୨୧) That hair. Listen, Harry’s hair is a mess, but the sexy kind of mess. You’d spend hours just tugging on it (and yes, he loves that). Plus, post-Quidditch Harry with sweat-slicked hair and flushed cheeks? Yeah, good luck staying upright.

(୨୧) Harry James Potter is your personal furnace. He runs hot—like, physically. Which means winter nights = you wrapped in his arms, snug as hell. And yes, he’ll mumble sleepy, incoherent things about how perfect you are.

(୨୧) He’s a dork, and we love that man. Tripping over his own feet when you kiss him? Yes. Making bad puns in stressful situations? Also yes. Saying, “I’m not scared,” before screaming when a bug jumps? Oh, Harry. We’ll protect that boy forever.

(୨୧) Your forever hero. At the end of the day, Harry isn’t just The Chosen One—he’s your chosen one. He might be awkward, overprotective, and emotionally clueless, but he’ll love you with everything he has. And that’s more than enough.

Now the next part is gonna be spicy. (Not too much since I am feeling more romantic than horny) 

(୨୧)The Unexpected Confidence - Harry might seem shy and unsure at first, but the second things start to heat up, something shifts. It’s like all that bottled-up Gryffindor bravery comes out, and suddenly, his kisses are rougher, his grip stronger, and he’s growling your name like he’s been dying to claim you.

(୨୧) The Messy, Hungry Kisser - He kisses like he’s starving, messy and desperate, pulling you closer like he can’t stand even an inch of space between you. His hands? Oh, they’re everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt, tangling in your hair like he needs to touch all of you at once.

(୨୧) Soft dom Energy - Harry isn’t the full-blown "do as I say" type, but he has this soft dominance that makes you melt. Like when he grabs your chin and tilts your head back to kiss you deeply, or when he murmurs, “Good girl, just like that,” while you’re doing something that’s very not innocent.

(୨୧) Possessive in the Hottest Way - He might not realize it, but Harry’s possessiveness shows when things get intense. He loves leaving marks—bites on your collarbone, bruises on your hips—and the way his name spills out of your mouth? That’s his favorite sound. He’ll whisper, “Say it louder.”

(୨୧) Clothes-Ripping Chaos - He’s not patient when he’s turned on. Buttons go flying, your shirt’s halfway ripped off, and he’s mumbling apologies between kisses because “I just can’t wait anymore.” (Honestly, you’re not complaining because watching him lose control is a whole mood.)

(୨୧) The Way He Uses His Mouth - Let’s talk about Harry going down. He’s the type to spend hours down there, holding your thighs open with a firm grip, moaning like he loves every second of it. He looks so good between your legs, messy hair and flushed cheeks, and he’ll glance up at you with that boyish grin before diving back in like a man on a mission.

(୨୧) The Dirty Talk Surprise - You’d never expect it, but Harry’s got a filthy mouth when he’s turned on. He’ll whisper things like, “You’re so beautiful like this,” or “You’re going to be a good girl for me, right?” And if you beg? Oh, he’s hooked. Hearing you plead for him is the ultimate turn-on.

(୨୧) The Strength You Forget He Has - Harry might not look it, but Quidditch has given him some serious strength. He can pin you to the wall, lift you up like it’s nothing, or press you down into the mattress with a grip that makes you feel completely at his mercy. And that little smirk he gives when he realizes you like it? Deadly.

(୨୧) The Slow Tease - Sometimes he likes to take his time, dragging his hands and mouth over every inch of your body, just to hear you whimper. He’ll kiss your neck, your chest, your stomach, going achingly slow until you’re practically begging him to move faster. (Spoiler: He loves hearing you beg.)

(୨୧) Post-Mission Sex Is Next-Level - After a particularly dangerous mission or a near-death experience, Harry is feral. He’s got this mix of adrenaline and relief that turns into desperate, passionate sex where he’s almost growling your name. He’ll push you against the wall, his hands rough but his kisses soft, and the way he moans, “I thought I’d lost you,” will wreck you.

(୨୧) Whispered Promises in the Heat of It - Harry loves whispering in your ear while he’s deep inside you. Things like, “You’re perfect,” or “You don’t know what you do to me,” as he grips your hips tightly and thrusts just a little harder. It’s not just sex for him—it’s pure devotion, and you feel every ounce of it in the way he moves.

(୨୧) The Aftercare King - After everything’s said and done, Harry turns back into that sweet, caring boyfriend. He’ll clean you up, press soft kisses to your forehead, and wrap you in his arms, murmuring how much he loves you. He’s the type to pull you close, trace circles on your back, and stay up just to make sure you’re okay. (It’s the perfect mix of hot and wholesome.)

(୨୧) That Smirk When He Knows You’re Watching - If you’re watching him undress—or if he catches you biting your lip while he’s shirtless—he’ll flash that cocky smirk and drag it out. 

(୨୧) Choking, But Make It Hot Harry’s hesitant at first, but the second you ask him to choke you, something snaps. His hand fits perfectly around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch, and he leans down to murmur, “You look so pretty like this.” (Goodbye. Dead.)

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

This was requested by @aceattorneyforlife. Thanks for requesting. I hope I matched your expectations and that you are happy with it.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu

wc: 2.4k

summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love. 

contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love 

a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up. 

Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it. 

Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?

Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys. 

This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all). 

So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—

—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys. 

“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand. 

Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this. 

He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret. 

“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.” 

This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up. 

The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown. 

There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit. 

And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now. 

“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”

When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.

And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger). 

He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you. 

His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway. 

Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days. 

Other than that, home has always been your place. 

And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space. 

The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you. 

It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever. 

The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.

Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him. 

Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him. 

Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up. 

.

“Samu, I think am g’na die.” 

The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better. 

Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background. 

“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?” 

Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack. 

His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode. 

All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you. 

“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.” 

Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.

But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient). 

“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.” 

Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time. 

.

His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease. 

He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger). 

And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time. 

. 

He’s never been this nervous in his life. 

The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to. 

What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.

So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes. 

You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life. 

“Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.

“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.

His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’. 

“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.” 

You nod, tilting your head to urge him on. 

“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepens. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug. 

This is why Atsumu loves you—

This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants. 

—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up. 

“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.” 

He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort. 

You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain. 

After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie. 

You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers. 

“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous. 

You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly. 

“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”

The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever. 

He feels like crying again. 

“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.” 

Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again. 

But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?” 

You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.

The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?” 

You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger. 

“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”

thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[mononijikayu]

marry you — ryomen sukuna.

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?" Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!" Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 7.4k words

NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again!!!)~ this is the final (maybe) installment of amnesia and a day in a life . reader and sukuna have been together for a while after this. they're much happier and healthy here. yuji loves his unckuna and auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a ball writing this because i just, this was fun. seeing sukuna be silly. anyway i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3 also @midnight-138, this is for you, im sorry for my angsty writing <3

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── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THERE WAS NEVER A TIME IN HIS LIFE THAT ANYTHING WAS NOT MEASURED. Ryomen Sukuna had always lived by the belief that precision and decisiveness were the cornerstones of strength. His brother, Jin, was the opposite in that regard.

Jin was easygoing, someone who flowed through life with a relaxed confidence. That’s how he had ended up casually taking his wife Kaori’s name without a second thought after marriage, something that had never sat well with Sukuna. 

It wasn’t that Sukuna found it disrespectful; rather, he simply couldn't understand how someone could relinquish a piece of themselves so easily. To Sukuna, names held power, identity, and control. They were not to be changed on a whim.

And most of all, it was who he was. If his brother was going to let the name die, who would continue it? Yet maybe, that’s besides the point. Because it wasn’t the point.

The point was this — Ryomen Sukuna found himself in an unusual position, plagued by doubt. Unlike his brother, who easily adapted and made decisions without looking back, Sukuna was being dragged through an internal war, and this was uncharted territory for him.

He had always been sure—sure of his choices, sure of his actions, sure of his strength. Whether in battle or in the mundane aspects of life, he operated with an unshakable conviction. It had defined him for so long.

Except now, with the ring in his hand, everything felt different. 

For months, Sukuna had been reduced to a more fragile version of himself, struggling with emotions he thought he had long buried, emotions he used to scoff at as weakness.

But this—this wasn’t a trivial matter, not something he could merely slice through with a sharp blade or dismiss with his usual unyielding demeanor. This wasn’t about power or domination. It was about vulnerability, commitment, and the gravity of the choice he was about to make.

The ring wasn’t just a symbol; it was a testament to something far deeper. Sukuna had never hesitated before. But for the first time, he was wrestling with fear—the fear of being vulnerable, of giving a piece of himself away, just as his brother had done so easily. But was it really a weakness? Or had he, all this time, misunderstood the strength it took to let someone in?

He had bought it months ago. A shimmering band, simple yet unmistakably meaningful, one that carried the weight of everything he had come to feel for you. Every glance, every brush of your hand, every laugh—each moment had woven itself into the threads of his existence. And now, here he was, staring at this small, ridiculous piece of jewelry like it was the most dangerous object in the world.

He wanted to propose.

He had never wanted anything so badly in his life. He wanted to tell you, to kneel (a position he never imagined himself in) and offer you the promise of forever. The thought was absurd, wasn’t it? Him kneeling before someone?

Yet for you, the idea seemed... right. He didn’t just want you; he wanted to spend the rest of his days making you happy, something he had never imagined himself capable of until you.

And that’s what drove him mad.

He didn’t know how to do it. How was a man like him supposed to express something so fragile? Words weren’t his strong suit, and even if he could gather them, they always seemed to fall short when it came to you. How could he ever explain the storm of emotions, the way you’d carved a place for yourself in his blackened heart? The very thought of it made his fingers clenched into fists.

The timing, too—it was never right. Every time he thought he might do it, something held him back. What if he wasn’t enough? What if, despite everything, you said no? The ring burned in his pocket like a curse of its own, a reminder of everything he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Ryomen Sukuna who’s been in delinquent clubs, who’s been the most fearsome wrestler and now undefeated weightlifter — who has done anything, and yet never been frightened. Not at all. But proposing to you? That terrified him.

Sukuna wasn’t used to nerves, but ever since he bought that ring, they seemed to follow him everywhere. And as much as he hated to admit it, Sukuna was struggling. So, he decided he was going to get this over with—no more overthinking. How hard could it be, really? It was just a proposal. 

Attempt one: At dinner.

The scene was set. A quiet, candlelit dinner at your favorite restaurant. It was your birthday. No perfect day, right? It was everything that you could ever want. It was intimate, it was heartfelt and it was just completely perfect.

Ryomen Sukuna had been uncharacteristically calm the whole night, which should have tipped you off that something was up. Between bites of your meal, you saw him fiddling with something in his pocket. Your face scrunches at the sight of him. And then your boyfriend cleared his throat—a sound that, for someone as confident as him, felt almost foreign.

“So, baby….” he began, trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked just a bit. “How would you feel about spending the rest of your life—”

Suddenly, the waiter appeared with a massive tray of dessert samples.

“Would you like to try our seasonal—”

Sukuna glared at the waiter, his red eye twitching as the moment slipped through his fingers. You tried to stifle your laugh as the waiter, completely oblivious, kept talking about tiramisu. Sukuna nearly cursed the man on the spot, but instead, he dropped the conversation. That’s just as one would say — strike one.

Attempt two: Movie night.

Alright, he thought, a more relaxed setting would be better. Just you, him, and some stupid romantic movie you insisted on watching. This was just as intimate as the first one, but maybe a little bit more animated. Still, it was just between you two.

He thinks you would love it like this. The ring was ready in his hoodie pocket, and halfway through the movie, as the cheesy proposal scene played out on the screen, he thought, This is it. This is the moment.

But just as he leaned closer to you, reaching for the ring, the actor on screen dropped to one knee in front of the actress, who acted stunned. Everyone around the actors gasped and started freaking out and clapping. You groaned, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it.

“Oh my god, if anyone ever proposed to me like that!” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sorry baby, but I ain’t that gal. I’d die of second-hand embarrassment.”

Your boyfriend Sukuna froze, hand halfway to his pocket, and quickly pretended he was just stretching. He slumped back on the couch, gritting his teeth.

Not like that, got it.

Attempt three: At the gym.

This was it. No more romantic crap—just you and him doing something you both enjoyed. He’d taken you to the gym, your regular workout routine in full swing. He figured the casual vibe would work, that maybe he could just slip the proposal into conversation like it was no big deal. Everything about this was perfect. Everything was going to go the way he wanted. Yup, that’s how it will go.

The problem? Sukuna wasn’t built for “casual.” 

He spotted you while you were doing squats, casually throwing out, “You know… we should, uh, work on something long-term together, baby.”

“Huh? A long term plan?” You huffed back at him, your brows furrowed.

“I mean….something concrete. Like….like, something for us, you know? A long time.”

You blinked up at him, catching your breath. “Like a couple’s fitness plan?”

“Or... you know... life. Forever. Together.”

You squinted at him. “Are you feeling okay, baby? You sound delirious.”

He muttered something about “too many reps” and practically sprinted to the other side of the gym, leaving you utterly confused. Everyone was just as confused. You looked at the store clerk, Uraume but they just shrugged at you. You guess it was just one of those days.

Attempt four: The kitchen.

Ryomen Sukuna had woken up that morning and decided today’s the day. He was done failing, and he wasn’t going to overthink it anymore. He could do this. He knows he can. It wasn’t rocket science. People proposed all the time, and somehow they survived. And it happens, it ends up happening. Everything after that always ends up in a wedding. Yeah, he can do this. 

You were making breakfast, humming to yourself, when Sukuna casually strolled into the kitchen, the ring in his pocket yet again. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you. You were the only person who could make something as mundane as cracking eggs look beautiful. 

You looked up to him and smiled, greeting him sweetly. God, you were so beautiful. You looked like you were made from heaven. A genuine angel, as you asked him if he wanted coffee. He mumbled back and cleared his throat. You moved over to the other counter and started the coffee machine.

“Hey, babe.” he began, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was an odd edge to his voice. “How do you feel about... I don’t know... spending the rest of your life with me?”

Without looking up, you shrugged. “Sounds good. Can you pass me the salt?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—what?”

You finally glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “I said, yeah, sounds good. Now the salt, please?”

Sukuna stood there, frozen. Was that a yes? Did you even know he was proposing?

You stared at him, still waiting for the salt shaker. When he didn’t move, you walked over and grabbed it yourself. “Thanks, big guy.” you said with a playful smile, clearly unaware that Sukuna had just (sort of) proposed.  “Now, do you want some avocado on your toast today or nah?”

He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. It was hard for him to be angry with you either. You were too cute. Another failure.

Attempt five: The supermarket.

The ring still in his pocket, Ryomen Sukuna was now truly desperate. At this point, he was just winging it. You were both running errands, and as you reached for a carton of eggs in the store, he thought, Screw it. There were no romantic backdrops, no candles, no cheesy movie scenes—just the fluorescent lights of the grocery store. Your day to day. Nothing too much. This was now or never.

“Listen, baby.” he said, his tone more urgent than usual. “What if we just—”

At that moment, a kid ran by with a cart, ramming it right into Sukuna’s leg. A light groan came out of Sukuna as the kid’s eyes grew wide. Sukuna’s eyes turned dark as he glared at the kid. The kid swallowed the bile down his throat. As he was about to move, you called Sukuna. The kid let out a yelp and started pushing his cart. 

The child screamed, “Sorry, mister!” and ran off, leaving your boyfriend in a state of pandemonium.

You, still holding the eggs, glanced at him for a moment and burst out laughing.

He sighed, slumping against the shelf. “I’m never going to get this right, am I?”

You smiled, stepping closer and poking his chest. “Get what right, baby?”

Sukuna glanced at the ring still burning in his pocket and grumbled, “Nothing. Just... forget it.”

You didn’t push him, but your knowing smile told him you weren’t entirely clueless. Maybe you had been waiting all along. Maybe, despite all his ridiculous failed attempts, you already knew what was coming. 

Maybe, the next time he tried, you’d say yes before he even finished his sentence.

And maybe, that was exactly what he needed to hear.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

HIS MOTHER USED TO SAY THAT OLDER BROTHERS KNEW BEST. But in all his life, Ryomen Sukuna liked to pride himself never needing to end up asking his elder brother for advice. Or any help at all, if he was being honest. The scarlet eyed man never liked having his brother do things for him. He doesn’t like owing anyone anything. 

Because Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for asking anyone for advice—especially not about matters of the heart. 

But after months of failed attempts, Sukuna could only find himself sitting in his brother Jin’s living room, slouched on the couch with his hands pressed against his face. He had to give in and concede to what his mother said. His brother knew best. And he should ask him. The ring still weighed heavy in his pocket, mocking him at every turn. His mother’s nagging words came to him, almost as though she would still be pinching his ear. Maybe if you asked your brother, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, bro.” Sukuna muttered, his voice low, clearly frustrated. “I’ve been trying for months, bro. Months. Every time I think I’ve got it right, something goes wrong. I’ve got the ring. I’ve got the words. But I don’t know... it’s like nothing’s perfect enough. I don’t want to screw this up.”

Jin, ever calm and collected compared to his fiery younger brother, chuckled from across the room. He sat in his armchair, reading glasses perched on his nose, looking up from the book he had been reading. “You’re overthinking it, Kuna.”

“Overthinking?” Sukuna scoffed, sitting up and glaring at his brother. “I can’t just walk up and throw the ring at the love of my life, you know? They deserve something... more from me. I want it to be perfect.”

Jin set his book down and leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth turning up in a nostalgic smile. “You know, I went through something similar when I proposed to Kaori.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “You? Really? You seem so... calm about all of this.”

Jin laughed, shaking his head. “Calm? Hardly. I was a wreck. I had all these elaborate plans I worked really hard on. I thought I’d propose on a sunset beach or during some elegant dinner. But none of it worked out the way I thought.”

Sukuna frowned, curious despite himself. “So what did you do?”

Jin scratched the back of his head, clearly amused by the memory. “We were on a road trip—just a spontaneous one. I think that’s when we decided to go north. We got lost. The car broke down multiple times in the middle of nowhere, and it started pouring rain. Hard. We were soaked, stuck under a leaky gas station awning, of all places. There was nothing romantic about all of it. And yet…..well, it was what it was.”

Sukuna stared at him, baffled. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was, little brother.” Jin agreed, grinning. “But Kaori laughed through the whole thing. She thought it was hilarious. And that’s when I realized—there wasn’t going to be a perfect moment. So, I just asked her. Right there, soaking wet, covered in mud and all the dirt in the world. I didn’t even have the ring on me because I’d left it in the car. But I asked anyway.”

“And she said yes?” Sukuna asked, still trying to wrap his mind around how his brother had managed to pull that off.

Jin nodded with a wide smile. “Without hesitation. Because, little brother, it didn’t matter where we were or how it looked. What mattered was that I was asking her to spend her life with me. She didn’t care about the setting or the way I asked. She just cared about me. And wanting to continue loving me. So, she just said yes. Damn the world or what was good. She just…wanted me.”

Sukuna exhaled, leaning back again and letting that sink in. “I just... I don’t know if I can be that casual about it. I want the love of my life to love it. I want it to be... memorable.”

Jin leaned forward, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Kuna. It just has to be you. And about your love together. If sis in law does love you, it’ll be great no matter what. It will just happen. Trust me.”

Sukuna sighed, resting his head against the back of the couch. “I hope you’re right. I just—” 

Before he could finish, the door to the room burst open, and Yuji bounced in, grinning from ear to ear. He was still dressed in his football uniform. “Uncle Sukuna! I heard you’re going to propose! Let me help!”

Sukuna groaned. The kid had such good ears, damn him. “Oi, brat! This is... it’s not something I need help with.’specially not from you! It’s—”

“Oh, come on! I’ve got great ideas, unc! We can do fireworks, or... or maybe we can surprise auntie with, like, a whole flash mob at the mall!” Yuji’s excitement was contagious, but Sukuna could feel a headache forming at the thought of any of those ideas. “I think auntie will love it, you know?”

“No flash mobs, Yuji.”

Yuji pouted for a moment, but then his face brightened again. “Okay, okay, what about a treasure hunt? Like, you leave little clues everywhere, and the final clue leads to you with the ring! I mean, auntie would love that! Auntie’s always been someone who likes puzzles!”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jin, who was barely hiding his laughter behind his hand. His brother was enjoying this little misery of his. His nephew’s barely thirteen and yet he’s got the idealistic mind. Too much like his brother, Sukuna thinks. But then again, his mother’s the same sort of human being. 

“Hey brat, I don’t think your auntie appreciates getting dragged across the city just to find me with a ring at the end.” Sukuna said, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes now. “Auntie would get tired really fast then ask where’s the nearest soda shop.”

Yuji shrugged. “Well, whatever you do, it’ll be awesome. You’re awesome! Auntie will totally say yes.” He gave Sukuna a thumbs up, his usual boundless optimism shining through. “I mean, auntie’s been with you too long, so it's just bound to settle like that.”

“Wait, what do you mean settle—”

“Hey, hey! I didn’t mean anything mean about it.” Yuji pouted at his uncle defensively. “You know that much, unc! I love seeing you and auntie together.”

Sukuna shook his head at his nephew, though a small, begrudging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, brat.”

Jin, watching the exchange, nodded in agreement. “See, Kuna? It doesn’t matter how you do it. It’ll be great, because it’s coming from you.”

Sukuna sighed, feeling the weight of the ring in his pocket one more time. “I guess... I’ll just have to stop thinking so much and go for it.”

Yuji’s grin stretched even wider. “That’s the spirit now, unc! And if you change your mind about the flash mob, I’m totally in.”

Sukuna chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yuji, still bouncing with excitement, suddenly lit up with an idea. "Oh! I know! Why don’t you come and coach my football team for a day? You can do it there!" 

Sukuna blinked, utterly baffled by the suggestion. "Coach... football? What are you talking about, brat?"

Yuji was practically vibrating with energy now. "It’s perfect! You can come to practice, and we’ll, I don’t know, pretend something happened—like, I could pretend I twisted my ankle or something—and then, boom! You step in, gather everyone around, and propose! Auntie will be there all excited to be there and cheer us and you on."

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?"

Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!"

Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

But before he could properly dismiss the idea, Jin let out a hearty laugh from his chair. “Why not, little brother? It’s certainly different. Do you have any better ideas?” 

Sukuna shot him a look, but Jin just grinned. He could see his brother’s frustration boiling over, but there was also something else—maybe Sukuna was finally realizing that no moment was ever going to feel perfect. Not in the way he imagined.

“Come on, come on.” Jin said, still chuckling. “I mean, think about it. It’s so out of character for you that it might actually work. A little spontaneity never hurts anyone.”

Sukuna rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “You really think I should just... go to a football practice and pop the question in front of a bunch of sweaty teenagers?”

Yuji jumped in again, totally on board with his own wild idea. “Yeah! And I’ll totally sell it—I’ll limp off the field, everyone will be worried, and then you step up like a hero. I can already picture it!” He waved his arms dramatically, trying to sell the scene. "It’ll be epic."

Jin crossed his arms, his grin still plastered on his face. "It’s unconventional, sure. But it’s definitely memorable. And isn’t that what you wanted?"

Sukuna sighed, the absurdity of it all weighing on him. Coaching Yuji’s football team, of all things, to propose? He couldn’t believe this was even a conversation. Yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it might actually work.

Not because it was perfect—but because it was so wildly unexpected that it would leave you speechless. Maybe, after all these failed attempts, that was what he needed.

Still, he grumbled, "If this goes wrong, I’m cursing both of you."

Yuji laughed, slinging an arm over Sukuna’s shoulder, clearly unfazed by the threat. "It’s going to be great, Unc Sukuna! Trust me!"

Jin, still leaning back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. "So, is that a yes? You’re actually going to do this, little brother? No more backing out?”

Sukuna slumped back on the couch, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... yeah. Fine. Let’s try it your way, Yuji."

Yuji fist-pumped the air, grinning ear to ear. "Yes! This is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see their faces when you finally propose!"

Sukuna let out a deep sigh, glancing at Jin one last time. His older brother gave him an encouraging nod. What does he have left to lose? If anything, if it works — maybe you’ll laugh it off. And he…he likes seeing you smile anyway. What does he have left to lose?

“You’re overthinking it again, little brother.” Jin reminded him. “Just do it, hm? It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna could only hope his brother was right.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THE NEXT DAY, YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE GOING TO WORK. So, you had decided to stay lazily at home with Sukuna and just enjoy his day off together. Well, it worked out better considering that Sukuna informed your office you’ll be out for a while anyway. You happily hummed as you started making your cup of matcha milk for yourself. So far everything was well. In fact, the day had been going pretty normally. 

But then you could only blink at him when Sukuna, of all people, approached you in the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. He looked... slightly awkward, which was unusual for him. His scarlet eyes darted away for a moment before landing back on you.

“Hey, baby….” he said, almost too casually. “You wanna come to Yuji’s football game tomorrow?”

You blinked in surprise. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the type to invite you to these things. Usually, Yuji was the one who asked, and then Sukuna would begrudgingly tag along, acting like he was too cool to care. But now, he was asking you directly?

“You’re asking me to go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “And also….you wanna go?”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Is that... a problem or something?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to hide your smile. “No, not at all. I’d love to go. It’s just... surprising coming from you. Usually, you wait until Yuji begs you to show up.”

Sukuna shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing just a bit. “Yeah, well... I’m gonna be more involved this time.”

Your curiosity piqued, you leaned forward. “What do you mean? Like, are you finally going to cheer from the sidelines instead of pretending not to care?”

He looked away again, mumbling under his breath, “I’m coaching the team.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”

Sukuna shot you a look, already regretting this conversation. “You heard me. I’m gonna be their coach... for the game. Just a trial…..It’s just…. Maybe a one time thing.”

The shock only lasted a second before you burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The image of Sukuna, towering and intimidating, trying to coach a bunch of high school kids was just too much. It was all too much for you to think about your boyfriend. He crossed his arms on his chest like a little kid.

“Stop laughing.” he grumbled, clearly annoyed but also embarrassed.

You waved a hand, trying to catch your breath. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I’m just... I’m just imagining you barking orders at those poor kids like you do with your clients at the gym.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you, crossing his arms. “That’s not how I coach at the gym.”

“Oh really?” you teased, still giggling. “You’re not going to stand on the sidelines, yelling ‘Run faster, you idiot!’ and ‘Stop slacking off, sweat it off!’ like you do with your trainees?”

“Of course not, babe.” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips now. “Those brats won’t know what hit them.”

Your laughter continued, but now it was filled with genuine amusement. “I can’t wait to see this. You, coaching a bunch of teenagers, pretending to know anything about football. Oh, this will be gold, baby. I’m in!”

Sukuna groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’re really not helping, you know.”

“I’m sorry baby.” you said, still grinning as you put a thumb up. “I just can’t picture it without laughing. But hey, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

He grumbled under his breath again, but you could see the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’d better not laugh when you see me out there.”

“No promises here, baby.” you teased, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But I’ll be there, front and center, cheering you on.”

Ryomen Sukuna rolled his eyes, but the blush creeping up his neck told you everything you needed to know. Despite his gruff demeanor, he was secretly pleased. And maybe—just maybe—this ridiculous plan wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You know Yuji loves some good orange juice, so you brought cold packs of that in the cooler too. You supposed you could say that you were more excited than most. You had the full gear from their team and everything. It was something you requested from Sukuna and he got it for you before yesterday, when he got his own uniform. 

YOU DIDN’T SLEEP A WINK. But you couldn’t help it. You were too excited. The practices wee nice but each time you had to leave earlier for work. But this time, you got to have a full day just being there. These past few days, Sukuna's been in a gloom but he reassured you that its nothing. You wanted to press, but you knew your boyfriend too well to pry.

You were just one excited soul to be here. It was the tournament league now. And Yuji's team made it through the finals. You brought packs of snacks for you and Sukuna, some for the kids too in case their moms didn’t have anything on them. Some cold drinks too.

And now, you found yourself standing by the field, watching as Sukuna walked out with the team. The sun was brilliantly bright, and there was a decent crowd, mostly parents and students, filling the bleachers.

But your beaming eyes were glued to the unlikely sight before you: Ryomen Sukuna, your intimidating, tough-as-nails partner, now wearing a whistle around his neck and a deeply annoyed expression as he dealt with a bunch of teenage boys.

You could see precious Itadori Yuji bouncing around excitedly, clearly thrilled that Sukuna had agreed to coach. The rest of the team, however, seemed slightly nervous under Sukuna’s intense gaze.

Yuji’s two close friends, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, didn’t seem to care and were just playing with the balls and gloves, tossing to each other. But their nonchalant behavior was a stark contrast from everyone else. Some of them glanced back at you, probably wondering why this mountain of a man was suddenly in charge. But you don’t blame any of them. Your boyfriend did look imposing. 

Sukuna blew the whistle sharply, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing again. He barked out orders like a drill sergeant, his deep voice carrying across the field. “You—stop dragging your feet! Move it! You think this is a joke? Pick up the pace!”

You couldn’t help but lean against the fence, shaking your head with a smile. Well, you were right. It was exactly as you had imagined—Sukuna treating this football practice like a high-intensity training session at the gym. The kids were all scrambling around, trying their best not to get on his bad side.

After a particularly harsh instruction, you caught his scarlet eye from across the field. He gave you a look, clearly daring you to laugh, and you had to press your lips together to keep from cracking up. When you got it together, you started clapping and cheering for him. And for a moment, you could see a scarlet tint flush on your boyfriend’s cheek. That had made you smile.

During a water break, Yuji came jogging over, grinning from ear to ear. “How’s Unc Sukuna doing, Auntie? He’s totally killing it, right?”

You smiled and raised an eyebrow. “He’s certainly... in charge. The team looks a little terrified, though. Well, except Nobara and Megumi.”

Yuji chuckled, not even a little bit phased. “Yeah, but they’ll respect him. He’s making them work harder than our regular coach.”

You glanced back at Sukuna, who was currently standing with his arms crossed, scowling as one of the players asked him a question. He looked like he belonged in a weightlifting competition, not on a football field. Your boyfriend could have done so many things, you knew. But he said he got bored of it all, since people keep telling him what to do. But either way, your boyfriend would have ended up looking like this. This hunk of muscular muscle. 

“Well, as long as no one cries, I think it’ll be a success, Yuji!” you teased.

Yuji laughed and then leaned in closer. “So, do you think they suspect anything yet?”

You raised an eyebrow. You were confused. “About what?”

He gave you a mischievous look, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. “You know... Uncle Sukuna’s plan. The proposal.”

You blinked, your smile fading as confusion washed over you. Wait, hold on. Was Yuji talking about Sukuna’s proposal to expand the gym? He’d been telling you about that for months now, outlining every detail, every plan. Surely Sukuna hadn’t forgotten.

“Wait. That’s today?” you asked, half-expecting to hear more about Sukuna's latest gym renovation idea. 

But something in Yuji’s expression didn’t quite fit the usual conversation. His grin widened, almost teasing. You suddenly had the sinking feeling you might not be on the same page at all. But just as you were going to go and talk to him about it, the whistle blew again, and the game began. Yuji saluted you and ran off to the field once again.

You tried to keep your eyes on the match, the sounds of cheers and the smack of fists hitting against gloves filling the air, but your mind was elsewhere. Sukuna’s plan. It kept creeping into your thoughts, pulling your focus away from the fight.

He had been working tirelessly on the gym expansion for months, meticulously coordinating every detail. The proposal with the contractor was a major step, one he had been looking forward to with a mix of excitement and that quiet intensity he always had when he wanted something done perfectly.

But now, you couldn’t shake the worry creeping up your spine. If Yuji’s casual comment about the proposal meant what you thought it did, then something had gone wrong. Sukuna must have missed the meeting with the contractor. Your boyfriend never missed important business meetings, especially not one like this, which was practically the culmination of weeks of hard work and planning. 

You bit your lip, your gaze flickering back to the field, but all you could think about was Sukuna. His sense of control, of always being on top of things—what could have possibly distracted him? And why hadn’t he told you? Maybe you could’ve reminded him or helped him juggle things better. 

Your stomach tightened with unease. Sukuna wasn’t the type to slip up like this, not unless something bigger was weighing on him. You’d seen the way he had been acting recently—distracted, quieter than usual, though he would shrug it off if you ever asked. Was this just about the proposal, or was there something else, something deeper he hadn’t shared yet?

As the game continued, it became even more intense, but not nearly as intense as the look Sukuna had on his face as he barked orders from the sidelines. You could see him glancing your way every now and then, his jaw set, his eyes determined. This was insane, even for a league of teenagers in middle school. But you suppose that’s what happens when you put your boyfriend to coach on the field.

As the game drew to a close, with Yuji’s team pulling off a narrow victory, you noticed Sukuna’s posture shift. He was still his usual composed self, but there was something nervous about the way he kept adjusting the whistle around his neck. He takes a moment for a breath. 

When the final whistle blew and the players began congratulating each other, Ryomen Sukuna called out to them. “Alright, listen up! Get over here. I’ve got something to say.”

The entire team gathered around him, and you stood at the edge of the field, your heart pounding as you watched the scene unfold. You could see Yuji trying (and failing) to hide his excitement as he joined the group. Everything about was making you feel like you were going to lose it.

Sukuna cleared his throat, looking oddly serious. “There’s someone here today who’s... important to me.”

The players exchanged confused glances, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you realized he was talking about you.

Sukuna continued, his voice a little gruffer than usual. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I’ve been trying really hard to make this happen. I really have been. And I just…I’ve been thinking, to hell with it. We might as well go through with it. Even if it's going to be too much and lame.” He shot a pointed look at Yuji, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

Your heart was racing now, and you could feel the eyes of the team turning toward you. Sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box from his pockets. He opened it and you could clearly see it. There was something small and shiny inside of it. 

“This…..” he said, holding up the ring for everyone to see. “ This is what I’ve been working up the nerve to do for months.”

The entire field went dead silent. The team, the parents in the stands—everyone was watching.

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes finally met yours, and in that moment, all the tough, intimidating layers seemed to peel away. He stepped toward you in the bleachers, his beautiful face softening as he held the ring in his hand.

“I’m not good at speeches. Or, apparently, proposals.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but smile through the nerves. “But I know one thing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The world seemed to blur around you as Sukuna knelt down, holding out the ring. “So, what do you say?”

Your heart swelled as you took in the sight of him—this fierce, stubborn man who had somehow, in his own awkward way, found the perfect moment. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes as you whispered the only answer you could give.

“Yes.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, with Yuji practically jumping up and down as the team whooped and clapped. Sukuna stood, slipping the ring onto your finger, and pulled you into a tight embrace, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “Told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

You laughed softly, wiping away a tear. “It was more than perfect.”

Ryomen Sukuna grinned, leaning down to kiss you as the noise of the crowd faded into the background. Everything about the past? That didn’t matter at all now. Because all this, this is what mattered. After all that you both went through, after all that happens — everything was well. Because he was going to marry you. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

epilogue

As Sukuna pulled you close, his lips brushing against yours, the cheers and whistles from the crowd surrounded you both. Yuji, of course, was the loudest, pumping his fists in the air and hyping up the team, who were now clapping and laughing at the unexpected turn of events.

“Unc Sukuna’s engaged!” Yuji shouted, jumping onto the field. “Best day ever!”

You pulled back slightly from the kiss, your face flushed and your heart still racing, meeting Sukuna’s gaze. His scarlet eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a whirlwind of noise and celebration. He took your hand, where the ring sat on your finger and placed a small kiss upon it. You grew even more flustered.

Sukuna sighed, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

You chuckled, brushing a hand against his cheek. “Believe it. You just proposed in front of an entire football team.”

He groaned slightly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Nope. But I love that you did it.”

His arms tightened around you for a moment before he pulled back, glancing at the team who were still buzzing with excitement. He gave them a half-hearted glare. “Alright, enough gawking. Get off the field. We still have a game to win.”

The boys quickly scattered, though you could see the smirks and murmurs they exchanged as they left. Megumi and Nobara were snickering at how soft their coach Sukuna was looking at you. Your nephew Yuji, of course, was the last one standing there, grinning like an idiot.

“So, Unc Sukuna,” Yuji said, nudging his uncle’s arm. “How’d it feel to propose in front of an audience? Pretty cool, huh?”

Sukuna shot him a deadpan look. “Brat, don’t think I’ve forgotten this was your idea.”

Yuji only grinned wider, completely unfazed. “But it worked! Look at that ring! And look at auntie’s face!” He pointed to you, beaming. “You guys are the cutest engaged couple ever!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yuji, stop embarrassing your uncle.”

Sukuna crossed his arms, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve been spending too much time around Gojo, I swear to god.” he muttered under his breath, glancing at Yuji with mock annoyance. “I better tell your dad to never let you back in Fushiguro’s house.”

Yuji just shrugged. “Hey, I’m just a romantic at heart. I love seeing love win!”

Before Sukuna could retaliate, his elder brother Jin appeared from the sidelines, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder. “See? I told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna let out a long sigh, shooting Jin a look. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you were right.”

Jin raised an amused brow. “Guess?”

“Fine, fine.” Sukuna grumbled, a reluctant smirk forming. “You were right.”

Jin grinned. “That’s more like it. And for what it’s worth, little brother, you pulled it off pretty damn well. Look at that, you’re getting married. I’m so proud of you, hm?”

Sukuna grunted, still not entirely comfortable with the praise, but you could see the tension slowly leave his body. He wasn’t one to bask in sentimental moments, but for this one, he was letting himself enjoy it. 

“Thanks….big brother.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go back to the bleachers. Kaori’s gonna get lonely.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s meet down here so we can have dinner together.”

Jin grinned. “Oh, you’re paying tonight?”

“Oh, don’t think too far like that, big brother.”

Yuji, still full of energy, suddenly clapped his hands together. “Alright! Since you two are officially engaged, I think it’s time we celebrate!”

You glanced at Sukuna, who rolled his eyes but didn’t object. “Sure, why not?” he said with a shrug. “But I’m picking the place. No weird restaurants.”

Yuji pouted. “But there’s this ramen shop Gojo–sensei recommended—”

“No.” Sukuna said flatly, his tone brooking no argument.

You smiled, leaning into Sukuna’s side. “Wherever you want to go, we’ll go.”

Sukuna looked down at you, a rare warmth softening the usual intensity of his gaze. His voice, normally edged with authority, held a surprising tenderness. “I’ll think of something. Now go on. Go finish the game.”

You turned toward Yuji, who was standing there, clearly wanting to argue. “But unc—” he started, but Sukuna cut him off before he could finish.

“I said go!” Sukuna’s voice, firm but not unkind, sent Yuji running back to the field, his frustration bubbling over as he shouted, “It’s not fair!”

You watched Yuji dash off, his protests lost in the sound of his feet pounding the grass, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. He had always been full of energy, bouncing between enthusiasm and impatience, and Sukuna loved to tease him for it—though Yuji never seemed to take it lightly.

Turning back to your fiancé, you shot him a playful pout. “Must you tease him so much? He did help you propose, you know?”

Sukuna exhaled, a faint sigh escaping him as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. “Eh, He can handle a little teasing.”

You tilted your head, studying Sukuna’s face. Even though his words were casual, there was a deeper affection in them, one that wasn’t always so visible. Yuji, in his own way, had been a part of your lives, and you knew Sukuna cared for him more than he’d ever let on. But Sukuna’s way of showing love was always layered with a bit of roughness, teasing, and challenges—he never made things too easy, even for those closest to him.

“He’s just a kid,” you murmured, leaning into him, your pout softening as you placed your hands on his chest. “He looks up to you, you know.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah, well, he should know by now I’m not gonna go easy on him.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile broke through your pout. “Maybe try cutting him some slack next time. You can’t torment him every time he tries to help.”

“Torment?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Come on, he loves it.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced toward the field, where Yuji was back in action, still muttering something under his breath. “Besides, if I didn’t push him, who would?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, giving his chest a playful shove. “Alright, alright. But don’t be too hard on him. He really did come through for us.”

Sukuna’s expression softened again, and he gave you a knowing look. “I know. I’ll make it up to him.”

As you both watch Jin go back to the bleachers with Kaori, you feel your fiance's arms wrap around you. Your hands intertwined and on top of his hand, was your own. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger, your heart swelling with happiness. 

Ryomen Sukuna had surprised you—more than you ever thought he would. And while it hadn’t been a grand, romantic gesture in a traditional sense, it had been perfect in the most Sukuna way possible. Unconventional, slightly chaotic, but undeniably heartfelt.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[1d1195]

Honey VIII

Read Honey here | ~6.3k words

From me: Last part! Glad you enjoyed! 💕

Warnings: angst, blood, hospital stuff, some fluff. I actually think it's terrible so I apologize if you're like 'this is the dumbest thing I've ever read.'

Summary: “Please, love. Cece needs you,” he whispered.

She shook her head at the thought. Cece didn’t need her. She was just the nanny.

“You’re not just the nanny.”

Harry was already suspicious when the alarm company called him and there was no subsequent text from Miss Honey. It was evident the power had gone out again. But he headed home to make sure things were okay. Only because he knew the service was so spotty when the power went out. Harry didn’t think anything of it because his mind was so overwhelmed with thoughts of the pretty girl that loved his daughter and tasted better than he ever could have imagined.

Despite their awkward breakfast, he was pretty sure her duties would come first. Even if he was planning on letting her go.

It took a lot of thought over the last few days, but he decided he couldn’t be in love with someone who worked for him. He couldn’t have sex with someone he was paying to live there. It felt wrong ten times over. She wouldn’t be his nanny anymore, but he was praying it wouldn’t mean she would be leaving his house any time soon, either.

Harry was so distracted by his thoughts of telling her right when he got in that he didn’t even notice the light at the end of the driveway was on.

When he pulled into the driveway he hurried out of the car and rushed through the house. “Hey love,” he called. “Everything okay? The power is probably still weird from the storm...” he was shedding his jacket, his work bag tossed to the side. He threw his lunch bag down too, clunking with the Tupperware he brought home from Niall and himself. “Listen, we gotta talk—”

All thoughts of said talk were gone when he approached the sitting room.

The shattered glass of one of his windows decorated the floor like the worst confetti he could possibly imagine. Her phone was on the counter displaying exactly zero of the tens of texts and calls Harry had sent her. And her smart watch was tossed haphazardly on the ground, leading toward the backdoor.

Perhaps of course, most notably and most terrifyingly, there was no sign of Cece.

Harry felt a thousand emotions course through him. He wanted to scream and claw his heart out to make it stop hurting. Doubt clouded his mind briefly and nearly brought him to his knees. His trust wavering again. Was it all a trick? No. Never. It couldn’t have been. That was... that wasn’t something that could be faked.

Dinner wasn’t awaiting him, and he hadn’t even come to expect it but now that it wasn’t there, he hated the way he felt. Aching and longing for something he didn’t want—didn’t think he could have. She was supposed to have Cece wrapped around her pretty body, kissing her hair, and telling her how to make whatever was on the menu for the evening. He was supposed to be falling for how pretty she looked with his baby, their baby. Because Cece and Harry didn’t stand a chance. They fell for her. Hard.

Something happening to his baby made him nauseous and weak. His hands were shaking as he reached for his phone but was met without service. One of the last untraumatized brain cells in his mind began to take over. A slow rational thought. What if doubt wasn’t needed? What if she was in danger as much as Cece? Harry felt his stomach churn violently again. A film of sweat coated every inch of his body at once.

Right as he sincerely thought he was going to throw up or pass out, there was a faint muffled sound.

The sound of crying.

If the house wasn’t silent, even if there was only the hum of the refrigerator, he might have missed it. But it was silent. Not a sound. Except a cry.

Harry sprinted up the steps. Taking two at a time and listening to the muffled noise. He hurried to his bedroom. He noted his journal was askew on his bed, open and spine bent; a pen tossed against the comforter as well. The crying was louder, coming from his closet.

He nearly ripped the door off the hinges and crouched down to the little one on the floor. “Oh, baby girl,” he cooed and the relief he felt was so crushing he still thought he might pass out. The relief was downright overwhelming. The whooshing in his ears was so loud. He was a little worried he might drop poor Cece in his dizziness. “S’okay, baby. Daddy’s here,” he kissed her wet cheeks. He was saddened by how tear-soaked they were. “M’here,” his voice cracked as he pressed his lips along her face. “M’sorry, sweet girl.”

It was so dark in his room, and he wanted to see her and make sure she was physically okay. He couldn’t hold Cece close enough. His heart felt the slightest bit better—marginally. “What happened, baby?” He frowned. Her little sobs started to subside.

He turned the flashlight on his phone and glanced around the dark closet. Harry noted Cece’s favorite little stuffy first. Purposefully placed right where he scooped her up from. Harry grabbed it, handing it to Cece now that she had calmed down a bit. Her little shoulders shaking made his heart hurt.

His eyes noted the piece of paper ripped from his journal next. Her handwriting wasn’t neat and pretty like he had seen in recipes or the notes she left writing Dada and Niall on lunches. This was scribbled quickly, messy. Hurried.

H—

I’m SO sorry, I saw something... I hid her.

His stomach rolled. New fear taking over but just as powerful as the one he felt about Cece. Maybe worse in some ways. Because at least he knew where Cece was and knew that she did everything she could to keep her safe.

“Cece,” he croaked. Harry wanted her to stay little forever. But right then, he wished she could speak. “Where’s Miss Honey?”

*

The police investigation was just like a movie. There were more people at his house than he could fathom. There were telephones with secured lines tracking and pinging possible leads. The power was back on, and the security company sent the footage they had directly to the police.

Often kidnappings that lasted over twenty-four hours didn’t bode well.

So, when hour forty-three approached Harry was feeling beyond helpless, beyond hopeless. Cece losing the most maternal figure in her life made him feel like death warmed over. He didn’t answer a single work call. He couldn’t. His only thoughts were of her and how fucked up it felt. Anne and Gemma came and took Cece. Niall was watching the company and spending as much time with Harry as humanly possible.

He raked his hands through his hair again trying to piece together the image of the two men in masks that he had been staring at for the last thirty hours wondering who would want to hurt him so badly.

They were good. Even if they were dumb enough to take safety away from Harry.

The human body could last about three days without water. He prayed that whoever took the sweet girl didn’t want her dead as it approached day two.

*

Her head was killing her. This was the worst hangover she ever felt. Her body felt weak. She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue felt just as dry. The floor was cold and the time asleep felt like nothing. The voices down the hall were back. They had been coming back and forth for the time she had been here. Deciding if killing her was faster than letting her just die naturally. Painfully.

Her blinks felt slow. The cramps in her stomach and legs didn’t even hurt anymore. She hoped Cece was okay and that Harry didn’t hate her for leaving her alone. Cece wasn’t alone for long—at least she hoped she wasn’t. Hopefully Harry found her shortly after she was yanked out of his home. Cece would have woken up alone in the dark and it made her stomach hurt worse than the hunger pains or dehydration setting in.

How long had it been? Time didn’t have meaning anymore, but she wasn’t stupid. Without water, she was fucked. She was merely collateral damage. Nothing more. Cece was safe. That was what she needed to remember and hold onto while her mind played tricks on her. They didn’t care about her—that much was obvious. She was cold, dehydrated, exhausted, and worried.

Harry was going to hate her. What if they went back for Cece? What if it wasn’t enough? If she had the physiology to produce tears and didn’t lack liquid, she would have cried.

“Hey love,” Harry whispered. She knew it was a figment of her imagination. Without water she was hallucinating. She didn’t answer him. It was too painful. “Y’need t’get out of here,” his voice had a pleading tone to it. But she was tired. She could barely move... let alone think. “Please, love. Cece needs you,” he whispered.

She shook her head at the thought. Cece didn’t need her. She was just the nanny.

“You’re not just the nanny.”

Hope infiltrated her heart. It was so unfair the hallucination would dangle that line of thinking in front of her. Even if it was her own subconscious trying to convince her. But she was. Harry had Cece. That’s what mattered more than anything else. Her family had hardly seen her in years. “C’mon, baby, please,” he begged.

She slowly sat up against the wall and it felt like she was going to fall right back over. Her eyelids fluttered, aching to close with how exhausted she felt. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Now y’gotta stand,” he reminded her. She swayed too much to feel like she had the strength to stand. But somehow, she did. Leaning back along the wall. Her hands were tied behind her. Her feet duct taped together. The voices from the other side of the house had disappeared again, a door closed. Faintly, she heard the crunch of gravel and tires exiting the driving away. She was alone again.

There was no furniture in the room, but she had been staring at the same four walls for who knew how long and there was nothing she could do to escape.

But there had to be something right?

The Harry she had conjured up was silent as he watched her. Even her brain was too tired, half alive, to make him talk. Moving painfully slow across the room wiggling awkwardly so she didn’t fall flat on her face with her feet duct taped together. She stared out the window. Freedom so close she could cry. It was her only hope, but she didn’t know what to do with it. She stared at the sill, the panes, through exhausted eyes. The strength it took to stand was hard. There was no way she could bust out the glass if she wanted to. “I know, baby, but y’gotta figure it out,” Harry begged.

She dropped onto the ground again, worried she would disappoint her hallucination. But only finally saw a glimmer of hope when she thought about passing out again. Her butt ached because she still hadn’t fully healed from the bruise she got from her fall in Harry’s office. She rolled onto her side and felt around for the metal heat vent cover protruding from the wall that she caught a glance of when she thought about falling onto the ground and just giving up.

She felt behind her, blindly and awkwardly, with her fingers for the lip of the cover closest to the floor. She pulled on it, hoping it was sharp. It was, given it sliced her finger making her hiss. She aimed lower on her arm. Getting the corner of the cover to line up with her wrists, she slowly sawed through. It cut her arm several times and now she worried on top of dehydration she was going to lose some blood too.  Hopefully the cuts weren’t too deep, but her body was nearing numbness from how tired she was and she had no way of knowing how hard she injured herself from behind. She hoped this wasn’t part of her hallucination because it would be entirely unfair to make it out in her head only to continue to be trapped.

Once her arms were free, her shoulders felt achy, and she cried out at the relief of stretching them forward. Because of the blood, it was hard to get the duct tape to peel at her ankles. It took even longer for it to rip off. She stood again, bracing herself on the windowsill. She lifted her sore arm to unlock the window in the middle of the panes. She pushed on the window, but it stuck. She whimpered. “You can do it,” he whispered. “C’mon, kitten, you’re almost there. I’ll come find you, I promise.” Her hallucination was so nice she thought about just laying back down and letting him lull her to sleep. “No, no,” he shook his head. “You’re almost out, baby. I promise.”

She groaned and pushed the window out of the way enough to wiggle her body through. She fell to ground outside with a thud and she again, strongly considered just lying there on the cold dirt because it felt better than trying to stand. “One more time, kitten. M’not too far.”

How could her hallucination possibly know he wasn’t too far? That was a horrible thing to allow herself to hope. But she stood, half blind from her exhaustion. Then followed the tire tracks out of the driveway and down the dirt road. She was sure she looked drunk. Or maybe more like a zombie. But she just wanted to find someone. She was aching everywhere and felt weaker than when she was laying down. Her heartbeat was too fast, the blood she had in her system sounded like a hurricane in her ears.

She could have walked only fifty steps down that road, or she could have walked a mile. She wasn’t sure. Time was different now. Like it was moving backwards, forwards, and standing still all at once.

There was the sound of tires and she was so tired, her eyes barely opened. So scared and exhausted. Even her hallucination had abandoned her. It was over. She was done for, so it didn’t matter how tired she was. How hopeful she was. She dropped to one knee and then the other. Her body crumpling under her own weight. Right before her head smacked into the hard ground something caught her.

“Holy shit,” it felt weird that she would suddenly hallucinate Niall’s voice as well. That didn’t seem fair to Harry.

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered. His hallucination was so close to her face. She could smell his breath, minty. She sighed with relief, melting into his imaginary body. He was warm, solid, and she was glad he was there even if it was just her imagination allowing her one last moment with Harry regardless of if he was real or not.

Then she was floating, and she was sure she had died.

*

Harry stepped into her hospital room after they completed their tests. He had been waiting impatiently for the okay to see her once she woke up. It had been hours of pacing. The drive from the place he found her nearly crumpling, half-conscious was terrifying beyond anything he could have imagined. He cradled her in his arms in the backseat practically sobbing as it felt like Niall was purposefully driving slower to the hospital. Harry was so scared; he used a napkin to dab water on her lips as she slipped in and out of a wakeful state. “We’re almost there, sweetheart, please hang on,” he begged and pushed her hair away from her eyes. Harry got blood on his clothes that dripped from her fingers and wrists. Harry wanted to scream.

But now, she looked better, and he didn’t want to think about that drive again as long as he lived. She was severely dehydrated. Her lips were dry and cracked. Her skin was paler than normal but was slowly returning to her natural color. He was so grateful she was alive and there.

In every sense of the word, she was so beautiful it practically hurt him to look at her.

The second their gaze connected she began sobbing.

“I’m. So. Sorry.” She sniveled. “Is she okay?! Please tell me that she’s okay. No one has told me. I swear I’m going to be sick,” she moaned. “Please, please, please—”

Harry grabbed her hand quickly and squeezed it. “She’s perfect, love,” he whispered softly, reassuringly. Carefully, he cupped her face, wiping his thumb on her cheek soothingly. “Not a hair out of place.”

Her relief just caused more tears to fall. “You’re sure? You took her to a doctor? I left her alone, Harry. After you told me that...” her voice choked off, shaking her head, and looking at her hands. “She didn’t get a UTI? She wasn’t dehydrated from being stuck in—?“

“Miss Honey,” Harry murmured unable to keep the adoration out of his voice as he said the nickname of the sweet girl. “She’s fine. We’re going t’worry ‘bout you for a bit,” he squeezed her hand encouragingly. “You had me scared, love. More than that. I thought I lost you. That was terrifying.”

She sniffled, her shoulders shaking while she tried to wipe her eyes, but the tears were too quick. “Can I see her?”

“She’s with m’mum,” he assured her. “I just want t’make sure that y’were—”

“Please?” She begged.

“Love, she’s—”

“Please, please, Harry. Please,” she sobbed. “We can go right—” She started to pick at the tape over the IV and wires in her arm and hand.

“Hey,” Harry quickly grabbed her antsy hands. He looked her in the eyes and cupped the side of her face. “Love,” he whispered trying to calm her.

“Please,” she sniveled.

God. She would burn the whole city down. Harry was putty to her begging. He pulled his phone out and FaceTimed his mother. “Hey Mum, can we see Miss Cecelia?” He asked in greeting. At the same time, he squeezed her hand encouragingly.

“Look Cece, it’s Dada,” Anne kissed the top of her head. Harry felt relief himself, knowing she was okay and continued to be safe in Anne’s arms. There was a police detail outside his mother’s house, and one would remain at his own as well for the time being.

“Hi Ce,” he cooed. “Do y’wanna see Miss Honey?” He asked.

She wiped her eyes with the hand still attached to wires. Harry handed her the phone. It seemed her wiping was for nothing as she started to sob once more. “Hi sweet girl,” she tried to smile, but her lips quivered with more tears and anguish. “I’m so glad you’re okay, pretty baby,” she looked like she wanted to reach out and pull her through the phone and into her arms.

“Mama!”

Time seemed to freeze again. For a moment, she was certain she really was dead. Because this was heaven. Someone loved her so unconditionally. It wasn’t fair she was only shown on a phone and miles and miles away.

Time came rushing back as she choked on another sob and pushed the phone back to Harry unable to say another word. Harry felt his heart bouncing erratically in his chest as he looked on in complete awe of her. When he finally pulled his gaze from her teary face, he saw Anne had a knowing smile as she waved at Harry, ending the call.

“Please don’t fire me,” she begged. “Please, please, please. I won’t... I’ll sleep in the basement or outside, I don’t care. I just love her so much and she’s... she’s so perfect Harry and I want to make sure she’s okay all the time and if you fire me I won’t—” Harry couldn’t believe how lovely she was.

“Kitten, I have to fire you,” his voice was soft, and he cupped her face and swiped at the tears that fell faster than he could wipe.

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I can’t be in love with someone I employ.”

Her tears slowed for the first time in what seemed like hours. She wiped once more, and she swallowed. “What?”

“I’m so in love with you, kitten,” he kissed her forehead. “M’getting you and Cece a security detail and I want you t’move your stuff into m’room. I want you t’do whatever y’want and—”

“Harry, I like working,” she smiled weakly but that sneaky hope flooded her.

“Then y’can open a day care at the office. A school. I don’t care. Y’can have every penny I earn t’do with whatever y’want. I jus’ want you t’be at home with me and Cece every day. I want you so badly, love. I thought I couldn’t have it all. But I want it all. So m’going to. M’going t’love you with everything I have,” he assured her. She shook her head, a fresh wave a tears flowed down her face. She still seemed scared and immensely dehydrated.

That was a lot to spring on someone but if she was serious, if she would willingly sleep in the yard to be close to Cece, then he thought she could handle what he had to say. His little one called her Mama. He would forever be grateful for the woman that birthed her. Chloe’s framed picture would be at every milestone. The sweet girl had already been taking Cece’s monthly pictures for her first year of life alongside her birth mother’s photo. Chloe wasn’t going to be forgotten, and Cece was a lucky girl to have a second mother who adored her as much as the woman she lost.

But in all that, Harry could see her worry and caution in her eyes. “I love you beyond what you provide for Cecelia,” he whispered as if he could read her mind. “You are the love I didn’t know I needed—didn’t think I deserved. You are everything I could have wanted and more.” When she didn’t respond immediately, he didn’t blame her. He cupped her cheek. “Y’don’t have t’say anything right now. Jus’ get better, yeah? There’s a little girl who needs her Mama,” he smirked.

“Babies,” she hiccuped unable to catch her breath. “Almost always say Dada first,” her smile was apologetic. Harry was going to give her everything she had ever dreamed of, but she did take the first word away from him. Which was a little unfair even in her worried mind.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Well, our baby is going t’be an overachiever.”

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

“You need rest, kitten,” he breathed but he wanted her lips on his more than anything.

“If you don’t kiss me, I’ll cry again.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at her and nosed along her jawline, following it with kisses. “Is that your way of bargaining?”

“Is it working?” She seemed a little breathless. Like when he had her in her bed and made her cry out with his name on her lips. He brushed his mouth across hers. Soft, gentle. It was almost painful. It felt so good and so perfect. Everything he never believed he could have.

“For the record, Harry Styles,” she sighed when Harry rested his forehead against hers. He smiled at her lazily. Like he already knew what she was going to say. Maybe he did. She hoped he did because it seemed pretty obvious to her. “I love you, too.”

*

Harry tended to all the logistics over the next hour. Phone calls, rides, police, and more than she could possibly think of. Niall sat beside her because Harry refused to leave her alone while she was on the mend. He was happy to be there and even happier to hang out with with one of his newest and closest friends.

The wicked grin on his face told her they were jumping into all the details she failed to tell him for the last week. “Were you going to mention you slept with him?”

She blushed. “He told you?”

“Don’t worry, he didn’t say anything specific,” he winked. “I took several imaginative liberties.”

“You,” she shook her head with a smirk, “have a death wish.”

“Did you really push him away after?” He asked.

She swallowed and looked at her hands, her gaze fixated on her fingertip wrapped tight from the wound she got trying to escape. “Niall, he doesn’t need me.”

“But he wants you.”

“I just thought... he already has everything. He has a beautiful baby, a great career, a home, and—”

“He has a home because of you. He doesn’t have someone to share it with.”

“Well, he has you,” she mumbled.

“You’re much prettier than me,” he chuckled rubbing her free hand and kissing the back of it softly. “You scared the life out of him.”

“He’s been through so much, Ni. I know he said he didn’t love Chloe romantically, but he must have, right? Because of Cece?”

“It was a drunk night. He got to know her over nine months, but she wasn’t a settle down with one guy kind of woman. At least not at the time. If there had been more time, who knows what would have happened. But there wasn’t. They made a cute kid, and I know no one regrets their relationship. But it was one and done, darling. Chloe never owned his heart the way you do.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted that. Wanted all his heart. “What if he just loves the idea of me? Or the things I do?”

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he screamed at me to drive faster. Sobbed over you while he rubbed water on your lips. He thought he was going to lose you, and he was terrified. If he only loved you because of the things you did, he wouldn’t have been awake for the last two days straight trying to find you. He sent Cece elsewhere. He would have let the police handle a missing nanny case,” he reminded her. “But not the woman that stole his heart.”

She swallowed around the tears that clogged the emotion in her throat. “Have you seen his abs?” She whispered.

Niall snorted. “Gross.”

“I want to lick every single one. And his tattoos.”

“Oh, for the love of god.”

She smiled weakly. Her heart felt pulled in a hundred different directions. Unsure of what needed to be handled first. “Do you know if my family knows?”

“They’re on their way,” Harry said from the doorway.

Her jaw dropped. “What?!”

“They jus’ got to the airport. S’a long flight. But they’ll be here.”

“My brothers, too?” She croaked.

“Is now a good time to tell you that you owe me three more months worth of lunches for not telling me about the sex? And another two for the ab comment?”

She laughed but Harry smiled, rolling his eyes while he watched her. “What ab comment?”

*

“I can walk,” she reminded him. But Harry held her, cradled against him and shook his head.

“You’ll be lucky if I let y’walk in a week.”

“Oh, you’re going to be annoying, aren’t you?” He shrugged and entered the house through the garage.

“Hey love birds,” Niall called. The kitchen smelled delicious. “Not sure if it’ll taste nearly as good as your food, darling.”

Harry ignored his friend and brought her right to the couch. He placed her carefully in the corner of the cushions the way she liked and wrapped her new winter blanket around her. He went to her favorite store the week before and bought one for February. It was so faintly pink it looked almost white. It was decorated with hearts of different shades of reds and pinks along with the word love patterned into the soft material. He hoped she would like it. Because as silly as it was, he wanted to wrap her up with it and ergo wrap her up with love. That was the only thought he had when he saw it. “Here,” he hummed and kissed her forehead as he brought a straw to her lips.

She sucked on the water that even though the doctors had kept her for a few days to ensure she was better, it felt like heaven to have the cold liquid. Harry stroked her cheek like she was going to disappear. “You don’t have to watch me the whole time.”

“You owe me at least a month worth of lunches, darling. The way he screamed at me? Or how he complained about driving you to the hospital? He’s not leaving your side.”

She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry pointedly. “She’s not making you a single lunch,” Harry grumbled.

 “I always make him lunch,” she reminded him. “Add it to your tab, Ni,” she called.

“Not anymore.”

“How did you know where I was?” She asked, still sipping. Niall was eerily quiet, which was a bad sign. Maybe. “Did you two do something illegal?”

Harry shook his head. “Of course not.”

Niall snorted.

She gaped. “Harry Styles.”

“I jus’ looked up the property sales for the men that they identified which is perfectly legal. Niall and I may have gone t’each one while they dealt with finding them because the police assured me, they wouldn’t leave y’alone. So, while they tracked movement and cars and false plates, we tracked locations. Because they assured me that’s not how kidnappers work.”

“You guys interfered with a police investigation? What if they showed up at one of the locations and you were unarmed and alone?” She asked, alarm present in her voice. Nervous for something that didn't even happen.

“We would have called the police at that point,” Niall answered.

“Probably,” Harry muttered. “They didn’t behave like normal kidnappers.”

“Well, I wasn’t their first target,” she shrugged casually. Throwing off all the intentional plans probably through everyone for a loop. Her kidnappers and the police.

Harry looked conflicted briefly and then he winced as if whatever thought he had was too difficult to speak. But she already knew what it was because it was the very reason Harry was tending to her right now: holding her face while she drank precious, delicious, ice water.

“Ni,” she called keeping her eyes on Harry. “Can you grab my bag out of the car?”

“Course,” he headed off the kitchen toward the garage.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” she whispered. “That it was me and not her and you’re grateful for that. I’m so glad it was me,” she tilted his face up because he refused to look at her. “It doesn’t mean you love me any less,” she smiled softly. “I would also think you’re a monster if you didn’t feel that way.”

He shook his head unable to voice how incredible it was for her to know his thoughts. “I would never want t’make that decision,” he murmured. “If they took her...” He shook his head, and an involuntary shiver went through him. She moved her hand to the side of his cheek.

“It’s her. Every time,” she promised. “If it was you or her,” she rubbed her thumb on his lip. “You’re a lot stronger than her,” she reminded him. “Plus, I would have burned the whole city down to find you.”

Harry smiled and kissed her softly before her next sip of water.

“Are you done being gross?” Niall asked.

“Haven’t started,” she called back.

“Disgusting.”

Harry rested his forehead on hers. Right then the front door opened. She stiffened; worry painting her face. Harry squeezed her reassuringly. Gemma was holding the sweet little baby as she entered the room, and she gasped. Tears flooded her eyes so quickly Harry was just glad to see her sweet face melt with adoration for their little love. “Oh,” she sobbed. “Cece,” she whimpered.

Gemma smiled, dropped the diaper bag and quickly made her way over not hesitating a moment or prolonging her suffering any longer. “Let’s go see Mama, girly,” she cooed, passing the baby to her outstretched arms. She kissed her hair and clutched her to her as she cried. Cece didn’t really understand what was happening, but she loved her snuggles and nuzzled against her shirt. Harry cupped the back of her hand on Cece’s head and kissed the crown of Cece’s head before he kissed her temple. He stroked her cheek again of the tears.

“Thanks, Gem,” Harry smirked at his sister.

“Niall,” Gemma gave his shoulder a squeeze and then she leaned over and pressed her lips to the woman’s cheek that would forever be called Mama. “What are we making?”

“Your family, Mum, Eliza, everyone is going t’come over,” he told her softly while she breathed in Cece’s scent. “S’why Niall is cooking.”

She nodded unable to feel the weight of his words because she was overwhelmed with holding the little one. “Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Harry shook his head and gazed at the two girls right in front of him. “M’never going t’forget t’say it, kitten. I swear. M’going t’say it every single day,” he promised. “But, y’never have t’thank me. I owe you m’entire existence,” he whispered. “Thank you,” his lips brushed over hers and then down to Cece’s forehead.

“You don’t have to thank me,” her voice was soft. “You... you gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

He smiled, his heart so full it felt overwhelming. “You deserve it, kitten.”

*

The terror that ripped through Harry’s throat at the sight of his bed half empty had him springing up and slamming his door against the wall. The police posted outside their house couldn’t have been that bad, could they? They couldn’t be. They would have called or come in if they had to.

Harry pulled the door out of the way to her old room. What he said in the hospital? He was dead serious. She wasn’t living down the hall from him anymore. She could turn her old room into a library or an office, he didn’t care. Harry left the hospital only once while she was there. To ensure the house was safe for her return. During that time, he moved all her clothes, her bathroom stuff, her books, all of her was going in his room where he could be close to her.

Or so he thought.

However, she wasn’t in her old room. Harry frowned, the worry creeping up his stomach and into his chest. Then, an overwhelming sense of relief went through him when he realized his mistake. He went to the next door and the nightlight painted the room and everything in it with the gentle glow. There, on the floor was the sweet girl, facing the crib, breathing at regular intervals.

“Kitten,” he cooed kneeling down behind her and gently shaking her.

She bounced and her eyes flickered to the crib. “What’s wrong, is she okay?”

“She’s fine, m’love,” his heart skipped a beat with how much he loved her. “Y’can’t be sleeping on the floor after the day you’ve had, sweetheart, c’mon.”

There was a brief pause while Harry stared at her. Cece’s little breaths were the only background noise they had. Soft and sweet, perfectly healthy. “I can’t leave her,” she whispered.

Harry’s heart felt like it was going to explode. Of course. That was stupid of him. “Okay, okay,” he kissed the side of her face. He stood, scooped Cece out of the crib kissing her forehead as he did. She got to her knees watching anxiously as Harry held her like she was going to disappear. “C’mon,” he hummed, holding his hand out for the sleepy girl. She stood, then paused, blinking rapidly. “Are y’okay?” He asked, putting an arm around her waist immediately and shifting Cece to his other arm.

She nodded. “A little dizzy.”

Harry squeezed around her hips. He guided them back to their bedroom. “Here we go,” he placed Cece on the bed in the middle then slowly sat down the newest love of his life on the edge of the bed. “Are y’okay, kitten?” He repeated.

She nodded. “Just dizzy.”

“Do y’need medical attention?”

She shook her head. “Just got up too fast, I think.”

He kissed her forehead and sighed. “Wish y’woke me up. Scared me,” he tugged her toward the pillows beside Cece. Harry curled himself around her, her bum pressed close to his pelvic bone, their thighs and knees spooned together. She shifted a bunch, moving pillows and blankets to keep Cece in place while she slept soundly.

Harry draped an arm around her body and tugged her toward him even though there was no more room to move her back into his embrace. “I love you,” he murmured.

She brought his hand to her mouth, and she kissed his knuckles. “I love you.”

“Cece okay?” He wondered, hoping her answer would reassure her own worry.

“Yes,” she nodded. Harry kissed the back of her head and felt himself warm with her body so close. He could see the rise and fall of Cece breathing on the bed in the light from the moon streaming through the window.

“You’re okay?” He asked his voice quiet and soft.

She nodded. “I’m perfect,” she whispered.

He smiled. Sleepy, happy, and completely thrilled that he could have everything he ever dreamed of having right in his bed. “God, sweetheart. I couldn’t agree more.”

--

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[themorningsunshine]

I like me better when I am with you

Masterlist

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.

Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy

Word count - 2.8k

a/n - I had so much fun writing this.

Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.

Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.

But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.

"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"

His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.

Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.

Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."

"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.

Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."

Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.

No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.

Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.

And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.

That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.

He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.

You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.

Maybe that's why she is friends with you.

That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.

Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?

Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.

The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.

You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.

Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.

This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.

You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.

"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?

Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her

Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.

"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.

Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.

Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.

"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done

"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...

"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."

Before it's too late

That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.

How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.

Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.

You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.

"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.

: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.

Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.

A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.

"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"

Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.

"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.

"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.

"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.

Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.

"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."

You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.

"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.

"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.

"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"

Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.

"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."

You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.

What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.

He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."

Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."

"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.

"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"

You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.

Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."

You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.

You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.

"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"

"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.

"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"

"That's literally his name."

"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.

"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."

"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"

"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.

You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "

"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.

"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.

"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.

Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.

Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -

All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.

He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.

When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.

"I want to be yours, Buck."

If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.

"You don't mean that, doll. You - "

"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”

[alle-ni]

My thoughts about goodomensverse (I'm clinically insane) (my personal opinion) (long post)

Book Crowley:

- absolute disaster

- lonely boy

- grumpiest

- he's so in love with Aziraphale but didn't even realised yet

- a bit dumb sometimes ngl

- very tired

- he's trying so hard save earth and everything he knows but everytime he tries to explain why it's always AZIRAPHALE

- sometimes he's like... your old gay uncle, the old gay uncle of the family except it's a 6000 years old gender fluid demon

- HISS LIKE A SNAKE GANG

- got called dear once and them died (figuratively)

Radio Crowley:

- flirty

- "Humm have you ever seen me in a dress~~??"

- he's like flirting with Aziraphale 24/7

- 0 patience this man is a BOMB

- if Aziraphale ever EVER got slightly flirty with him back he will EXPLODE

- smartest of them all, he's very intelligent

- HISS LIKE A SSSSSNAKE GANG

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and it makes him SO FRUSTRATED

- his Aziraphale is the hardest one to reach, maybe this is why he's so deliberately obvious and direct with him (he's resilient, he will never give up)

- he's like a tsudere teenager collegial except he's a 6000 years old demon with serious issues

- not called dear yet poor soul </3

TV Crowley:

- SILLY

- he's the dumbest of them all, sorry 😭

- red hair

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and everyone notice it's SO OBVIOUS

- he's the most affected by The Bookshop Burning ™ event

- the only one who got to kiss the angel, good for him ig, or sorry, idk

- anxiety bomb he literally (literally) EXPLODE

- strongest soldier bc his Aziraphale is IMPOSSIBLE

- got dumped 2 times more than the others someone pls help him

- the most brave tho

- doesn't hiss a lot :/ free him from this madness let him hiss

- he's like a puppy with giant yellow eyes except it's a 6000 years old snake demon that lies all the time

- protective as hell this man wouldn't let anyone near Aziraphale if possible

- got called dear but at what cost??????????????

Book Aziraphale:

- Anxious all the time, religious trauma except the god is your father and he left you and never talk to you again and the guard angels are your siblings and they want you do be dead

- He's so soft he wants so bad to comfort Crowley but he's really hard to reach

- his Crowley is the most difficult of all of them, he needs to circle him a lot to get in touch

- this man got called names so often I don't think he even cares anymore

- he's very nerdy

- he's the calmest of them all

- really chill

- everyone is so mean to him for no reason

- he has 1 braincell tbh and it's really bad bc his Crowley is not that brilliant too they're both stupid sometimes

- he really REALLY wants to be with Crowley and Crowley only, he sounds almost obligated to be with heaven

- he is really kind to others even when they don't deserve

- he called Crowley dear once and then implode

Radio Aziraphale:

- full of himself

- bastard

- the most closed and oblivious of them all

- he tries to play cool with Crowley all the time (he's slowly getting insane and someday he will jump on this man)

- he's the most self sufficient one he barely holds on Crowley to anything and they're pretty independent

- Crowley can say shit like "Miss me angel~~??" and he would keep a bored face and not react at all (he screamed with the walls 4 hours later)

- he's also a tsudere collegial but he at least try to look cool and composed in public

- he's the Aziraphale that most believes in heaven, he's sure they are good and selfless and the right side

- he's not so brilliant tbh but he got a lot of spirit

- the most active Aziraphale ?? He really put his hand in the dirt and do the things alone

- the most angry and bad tempered of them all, bro scream "WE ARE CLOSED LOOK AT THE DAMN SIGN" when ppl barely touch the bookshop door

- he has a lot of patience with Crowley, not deserved tbh bc he thinks it's his personal job to get in Aziraphale's nerves

- overall he is polite

- he's really proud of their "arrangement" there not only one chance he let go without saying that

- he likes to provoke Crowley sometimes too but not as much as the other way around

- if he ever call Crowley dear he will explode

TV Aziraphale:

- bitchiest

- this man need to be sedated what the fuck Aziraphale

- most nuts of then all he's CRAZY

- he's the most up to do shit with Crowley they're insane together

- he doesn't let Crowley rest he is flirting and being cute and hitting on Crowley all the time

- he's so obviously in love with Crowley its embarrassing

- he's the fruitiest he's the entire salad

- the most... indulgent, if I can say, of them all

- more like an employer of heaven, different of book Aziraphale

- he's the only one with almost white hair

- he got kissed but at what cost

- he's the most intelligent of all of them how can he be this dumb

- he loves little things about earth and humans and life and he seems to be the Aziraphale that most love EARTH itself, like, the life, the humans, the food, the little pleasures we have, the little time of happiness we have between all the shit that is happening... he really loves humans <3

- he's conflicted about heaven, he seems to know that there's something WRONG with how heaven works but still doesn't understand what exactly it is

- "oh but saving me makes him soooo happyyyy~~~"

- overall kind and sweet, in a excited way

[hrh-prince-butt]

alex and henry plan to dress up as barbie and ken for an upcoming costume party, but they can't seem to agree on who should be barbie and who should be ken...

(hello this is possibly the dumbest thing i've ever written, and i have no regrets, it was so much fun to write)

-

“You can’t deny the Kenergy, babe.” 

“You’re right,” Henry shoots back. “I can’t. And if anyone has it, it’s you.” 

Alex crosses his arms and glares stubbornly at Henry. Henry glares right back, just as goddamn stubborn. Looks like they’re in a stalemate. 

There was no argument that they absolutely had to dress up as Barbie and Ken for their couples costume this year. It had practically been telepathically agreed upon before they even left the cinema. Apparently, the hard part is agreeing on who should dress up as who.

Alex had thought it was obvious that he should be Barbie. But when he brought up speculations about his costume - should he copy an outfit from the movie or figure out something of his own? - Henry had frowned and said he thought he was supposed to be Barbie. 

“Just face it, sweetheart,” Alex says, patting Henry on the shoulder. “You are clearly the Ken to my Barbie.” 

Henry huffs. “How am I the Ken to your Barbie?”

“Well.” Alex leans back on the couch and gestures to himself. “I’m the successful career person, and you are my hot blond accessory. Obviously.” 

“Unbelievable,” Henry says. He sounds genuinely offended. “David, are you hearing this?” David the Beagle lifts his head lazily at the sound of his name, but finding no imminent threat and no promise of treats, he goes back to napping on the couch. 

“All this time,” Henry goes on, and Alex can tell he’s really amping up the theatrics now, probably working up to a dramatic monologue of some kind. “I thought you liked me because of my intelligence, my wit. I thought I was more than just a pretty face, but no. Apparently I’m just some attractive himbo boytoy to you. Utterly unbelievable.” 

He punctuates this absolute scene with a very undramatic bite of chocolate chip cookie. This batch is his third attempt, and Alex has to admit they aren’t terrible. They are overbaked and therefore rock hard - Henry’s annoyed chewing can probably be heard halfway down the street - but they’re already miles better than the last batch. Alex thinks it best not to speak of the last batch.  

“I can’t believe you just called yourself a ‘himbo boytoy’.” Alex is wheezing with laughter, and Henry’s stubborn chewing, his failing attempt to look dramatically offended while crunching on a cookie the texture of a brick, only makes it harder to stop laughing. “Those are your words, not mine.” 

He deigns not to mention that while he has been busy with important law shit all week, Henry has been busy baking cookies. And being really bad at it. That’s definitely Kenergy. 

Henry sighs and washes down the remains of the tragic cookie with tea. “You’re not seeing my vision, love. You would really make an excellent Ken. And I would make an excellent Barbie.” 

“Damn,” Alex says. “We must already be in Barbie’s Dreamhouse because… uh. Keep dreaming.” 

“That… was a truly terrible comeback.” 

Alex sighs. “Yeah. They can’t all be winners.” 

Henry nods gravely. “I’d say this proves my point. You’re Ken, and I’m Barbie.”

It most definitely does not prove anything. “If you’re Barbie,” Alex says, “then you’re definitely Depression Barbie watching the Pride & Prejudice movie like a million times.” 

Henry apparently doesn’t have a response to that except indignant spluttering. Alex laughs so hard he wakes up David. He almost falls off the couch laughing when Henry responds with: “How dare you, I am clearly Irrepressible Thoughts of Death Barbie!” 

Then they’re both laughing, while David watches them in utter confusion. 

“Alright,” Alex says once he has calmed down. “Fair enough. But we can’t both be Barbie!”

“Why not, though?” Henry counters. 

“It’s a couples costume!”

“Well,” Henry says. “Two Barbies can love each other! It’s the 21st century!” 

Alex tries to sigh but it comes out as more laughter. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Gay rights for Barbie or whatever. But two Barbies won’t be as recognizable as a couples costume. People will just think we’re two people who independently decided to dress up as Barbie!” 

“Alright.” Henry picks up his phone. “I’m settling this once and for all.” 

“What? Who are you calling?”

That question is quickly answered. The dial tone only rings twice before the call goes through, and Pez’s voice fills the living room. “Well, if it isn’t my second favourite disgraced royal. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Henry wastes no time on niceties. “Pez. Out of Alex and me, who is Barbie and who’s Ken?”

Pez doesn’t even take a moment to consider it. He just says, “Darling, you’re definitely Ken.” 

Ha! Told you, Alex mouths, his face lighting up in a vindictive grin. 

“That is the wrong answer,” Henry tells Pez, whose laughter comes out a little tinny through the phone speakers. 

“Oh come on, you know I’m right,” Pez says. “Or perhaps I just really want to see your boyfriend's magnificent arse in that Barbie-pink pantsuit. You know, the one Margot Robbie wears in the film?” 

More indignant spluttering from Henry. “Pez, you’re on speaker.”

“Oh good, I hoped I was,” Pez replies. “Hello, Alex! I look forward to seeing your Barbie costume. Do come to me if you need help putting it together. Toodles!"

And then he hangs up. Henry glares at the screen like he can magically will Pez to come back and take his side this time. 

“Well, you heard him,” Alex says, not even trying to hide his laughter. 

Henry huffs and shoves the phone back in his pocket. “Well, who made him the expert, anyway?”

“Pretty sure you did, when you called to get his opinion. To, you know-” Alex clears his throat and puts on his best Henry impression- “settle this, once and for all.” 

Presumably at a loss for words, Henry picks up another cookie and, with considerable effort, bites into it. There’s nothing more to say, anyway. They both know Alex has won. 

“Besides,” Alex says, holding up his phone to show Henry the transaction on the screen. “I already ordered the “I am Kenough” hoodie in your size, sweetheart.”

[emptywwwriting]

A Familliar Touch

This is a short-ish drable i thought of last night and wanted to get out.

Note: tysm for all the likes and repost! I am open to constructive criticism or really anything you have on your mind:)

A03 link: A Familliar Touch

warnings: Smut, violence, car sex, Joel is emotionally unavailable, but he still fucks.

Joel was never easy to get along with, but from the day you met him, a gun jammed into your stomach, and an angry scowl plastered across his face, you were obsessed. While trying to steal food from a random man who easily could have taken you down, was one of the dumbest things you had ever done, you are so glad you did it. Would it have been anyone else, by now you'd just be a decomposing body in the middle of Salt Lake City, but by the grace of god, Joel Miller gave you mercy.

That was weeks ago though, and now days are filled with the hum of an ancient V6 and the sounds of rusted brake pads. The pick-up Joel somehow got running was good at getting you guys from point A to point B. Its interior felt like home, and it sheltered you while you journeyed to Colorado. The days went by slowly, with simple quiet conversation, and the occasional stop for fuel or supplies, but nights were dead silent and often lonely to begin with. Finding peace in the older man’s touch is what finally silenced your brain’s decades of replayed painful memories. At dark when the only thing illuminating the sky was a half-lit moon, (and stars that finally after 23 years sparkled in the middle of a city) rough hands that you had not known for very long, touched the most intimate places on your body. You welcomed this gratefully, needily. Heavy breaths from Joel, low grunts, and faint whispers as he plunged himself into you as quietly as possible, filled the truck nightly. The truck would rock and you couldn't help but let out moans that you would try to hold back. His large hands would wrap around your mouth, and while still shoving himself into you as harshly as possible, he would gently pull your back into his chest, warmth radiating off him. Almost lovingly he would hold you like this kissing your neck nipping at your ear whispering words of encouragement you couldn't even hear. Despite this, his hips clashed with yours shaking you to your core. Rough padded fingers would work sloppily over your sensitive clit and he would spill into you after you had finished.

Nights like these were confusing, you would fall asleep wrapped around him, and dream of nothing, no nightmares, and no sudden jolts awake; the next morning, you would wake to Joel in the the driver's seat and a moving vehicle. Nothing would be said about the night before, you guys would just continue like normal. These brief moments at night you tried to savor, tried to draw out as long as you could before one of you got too desperate. It was a release like no other, it was your new reason to survive,

he was your new reason to survive.

[theangelcatalogue]

❝ Have you ever died in a nightmare? Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate? ❞ ― YANDERE X MEN X DREAM INTERPRETER!DARLING

→ X MEN EVOLUTION

→ PLATONIC/ROMANTIC

→ GENDER NEUTRAL READER

→ TW: IMPLIED NIGHTMARES, IMPLIED MURDER, BULLYING, IMPLIED HALLUCINATIONS, POSSIBLE MENTAL HEALTHY MOCKING, SWEARING, OVERPROTECTIVE BEHAVIOR , BAD GRAMMAR, BAD ENGLISH AND MADE BY A MINOR! IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE, FEEL FREE TO LEAVE! PLEASE TELL IF I FORGOT SOMETHING! IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, FELL FREE TO LEAVE! I HOPE YOU ENJOY (´• ω •`) ♡

❝ Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis... ❞

— ⠀Third person

A dream interpreter, that's what you were, basically, your mutation consisted of controlling, entering and experiencing other people dreams, you discovered when you accidentally transformed your neighbor's kid dream in a nightmare while babysitting them, silly you.

And that happened until you realized that you were the problem. You also could do that with your own dreams, well, that was bad because there was one little problem...

You could hurt yourself in your dreams, one day you dreamed you were drowning, just to wake up soaking wet, or like when you dreamed you were bitten by an animal, just to wake up with a bite mark, bleeding, in your arm.

It took a few time to Professor found you, asking you about your experience, it was hell for you, you could control your dreams? Yes. You knew how to do that? No. Did you almost die in these dreams and nightmares? Yes.

He also asked your father about this, talking about how the institute would be an amazing experience, where you would stay with teenagers like you, and help you control your abilities.

Your father was hesitant, his only kid, away from him? After hesitating, he agreed, not before talking about your problems to the Professor, warning him to have patience with you.

" Please just be patience with they... they have these hallucinations, and they can hurt themselves in these dreams, and- "

" There is no need to worry, sir, we will take care of them. They are in good hands. "

Well, technically, you were in good hands, all of them tried to do be your friends and thought your power as rather different (Kurt and Evan asked you to interpret the dumbest dreams ever.)

They were very patience with you, or tried to be, and they were very, very protectives. It could be suffocating, so you tried to not tell them what happened so they wouldn't worry.

Your power had another problems, sometimes, you can hallucinate with things and creatures from your dreams, but the most recent and common ones are from your nightmares. You aren't sure if they are real or your imagination, but how you were the only one that could see them...

And this made you pass for many problems and situations at all, some classmates would have patience with you, some would find you weird, and others would be... downright mean and bullies.

" Come on, freak! Tell me what you're saying! It's another scary clown?, " Ram mocked, arms crossed, looking at you with like a total idiot. He is your main bully, he thought he was so funny, like this 'joke' wasn't made before.

" Yeah, it's a clown, the dumbest one i have ever seen in my entire life. " You responded him bluntly, you already were feed up of him at this point, why couldn't he just leave you alone? He has nothing better than to do? Like, smacking lunch trays? Or be a huge dick— Oh wait, he already is that.

It took him a while to understand you were talking about him, that he was a clown, that guy was really dumb. His face darkened with pure annoyance at you.

" Well, at least i'm not an insane freak! How did your parents didn't leave you when they had a chance? How do your friends even support your presence? " He scoffs.

" You are so right! But you know? I have to go. " You said, closing your locker, preparing to walk away, he really thinks he is offending you, sure it still hurts, but crying or fighting him wouldn't make this better, it would only make his ego get worse. So you just decided to agree and leave, hoping he wouldn't do anything.

However, you felt him grabbing you by your shoulders, making you look at him again, he was pissed off you were walking away, he grabs you by your jacket and press you in the lockers. Preparing to punch you.

" Who said you could just walk away from me? Your little piece of shit- "

" What's happening here? "

You hear a familiar voice, you and Ram turn your head to see a familiar figure, your hero... or your military general:

Scott Summers.

" Let them go. Before i do something you won't like. " Scott said to Ram, while crossing his arms, if looks could kill, Ram would be dead right now. I mean, you couldn't know because of the glasses, but you felt that he was giving him a death glare to Ram, you just knewn that.

Ram lets you go, not before sending you a " This isn't over. " look, he walks away, leaving you and Scott alone in the hallway.

You turn your head to look at Scott, the good thing is that you're safe from Ram... the bad? Having to listen to Scott giving you a whole speech about how you should ask them help in moments like this. This is the safiest option, actually.

" Who was that? "

" Ram Kelly. "

" Ram Kelly..., " He repeated, you could feel something weird in his tone, something that caused shivers in your spine. " And... he picks on you daily? "

You didn't know how to respond to that question, yes, Ram did that daily, it was part of your routine at this point. But if you tell Scott that, he will realize you are hiding things from him and the other X-mens.

" I will consider your silence as a yes., " He sighs, obviously disappointed with you. " Y/N, we already told you... if someone is messing with you, you need to tell us. " He advised you, he and the others have told you that many times.

" I know, i know! Sorry... i don't want you guys to worry, my problems, my deal. " You responded him, and it was truth, you already worry them enough with your nightmares, creams and bruises in the middle of the night, you don't want to bother them with some stupid school problems.

Before he could say anything to you, the bells rang, you rushed to your class, not wanting to be late, but also not wanting to hear Scott's possible scolding.

" We want to worry... " Scott mumbled to himself, observing you rush away, before going to his own class.

" Ugh! This guy is so disgusting! Now i'm feeling weird because of that... " Rogue complained after touching Ram, making him faint.

" Don't worry, i will be worth it! " Kurt responds her, while Scott looks at Ram's body.

" It is. " Scott said, before taking his glasses off, in direction to Ram's head.

★- AND COLLAPSED AND THREW THE PLANET AWAY?

★ FINALLY POSTED A NEW ONE SHOT YAY

★ I love x men evolution so much

★ How are u guys?? Hope you all doing well!

★ Silly Oona gif

[avelera]

I am never going to be over what the movies did with Steve and Tony's dynamic, because- listen, listen. The reason Civil War was (supposed to, it was kind of a hot mess) hit so hard in the comics was that these two were *best friends* and had been for decades of comic time. In the movies, they never are friends, so Civil War is just two colleagues who never really got on, and not the devastating tearing apart of a long-established friendship group.

Dude I literally burst out into like... outraged, furious laughter in the theater when Tony said, "I thought I was your friend?" because, umm, footage not fucking found?

I completely get and respect the comic readers here for whom Steve & Tony and Steve/Tony were, in fact, the best of friends! But the MCU never ever actually showed it.

To cram that line, which felt lifted from the comics, into the MCU was genuinely laughable. How could Tony possibly think he compares to what we've seen of Steve and Bucky's relationship, since childhood even if you don't ship them, as the only person Steve has left from his entire life pre-WWII? How could Tony possibly think he compares except through the lens of a galaxy sized ego and being totally self-involved to the exclusion of all else? How could any work colleague, since that's what they are at best when not outright antagonists to each other in the MCU, think they'd compare to a childhood friend in danger, that Tony is actively putting in danger? Who Tony is blaming for the death of his father despite the fact they've got piles of evidence that Bucky was a mind-controlled prisoner of war being actively tortured at the time?

It's literally staggering, it beggars belief that this line was uttered. And wildly enough, it's not even my least favorite line in Civil War. (That one goes to Vision's stupid fucking comment about how strength invites challenge, basically victim-blaming the superheroes for having villains, which only possibly makes any sense if you ignore Thor, the greater galaxy, all of the infinity stones, and basically every other part of the MCU timeline before Steve Rogers got the serum, Christ that line makes me mad.

Oh, and the line about Tony just handwaving signing the accords because their lawyers can fix it later as the most boneheaded line of insane privilege I've ever heard. Kids, never fucking sign something just because you can supposedly fix it later, christ it's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.)

ANYWAY, I have major beef with Civil War's logic. It never should have happened where it did in the MCU. Cap 3 should have been dedicated to its original plot before they found out RDJ was staying on in the MCU and they had the pieces to make Civil War (the original was the hunt for Bucky and an examination of Captain America's legacy through the lens of Bucky killing off the pretenders the US government set up to be him over the years, and I still weep that we never got it) But I do honestly, deeply, have sympathy for comic fans and why they're mad about the Steve and Tony friendship never actually appearing on screen in any meaningful way.

Civil War shouldn't have happened then. Civil War is a plot you run now, when you've got the rights to the X-Men and too many damn characters running amok. Civil War would be perfect now for pairing down some of the ballooning MCU nonsense. The cast was literally not big enough circa Cap 3 to make Civil War. And I'm eternally bitter that they pivoted away from the smaller-scale Cap-centric movie we should have had and instead made another Avengers movie in its name.

[liliadrawingstuff]

Coming back for one day after my monthly disappearance

here's art I did in the meanwhile

Little rant to the drawings and a bunch of old art under the cut

1. Imma start with the "Gothic AU" that I probably dedicate an own post to because this AU has been on my mind a bit too much. But hey! Faba is your typical Coward Diva Royalty Lord and wants to become King of England in the dumbest ways possible. Also Colress is there too! He will be the calm looking chaotic overpowered smug but "haha ◻️7◻️" butler.

He and Lilac basically have just a "Villains in love" kinda dynamic here. And Faba and Colress will be very chaotic too hehe

2. Group cuddling!! Yayy

3. I have designed Faba and Lilac some formal outfits (but never posted them) so ye. Carry that little beany

4. As much as I love the "you are great" - "I know I am great" Faba. It's a guilty pleasure of mine that he actually gets slightly flustered when you REALLY mean it. Poor guy probably didn't hear any genuine compliments in his life or didn't realized that he was actually complimented

5. A kissu. Yknow. Seeing all my Art together and seeing that 4 of them have them have the "surprised flustered" Faba face makes me unable to talk myself out of this. But yea... flustered Faba is just cute I die. Funnily enough in the gothic AU he is JUST smug (and stupid) so maybe I post more smug Faba in the future whoaa!! XD

6. 3 of the 4 Lilac moods that she can have. The soft idiot in love, the self confident flirt that she can only be with Faba tho, and the dense airhead. The 4th mood is her empty/sadness but I prefer talking about happy things hhh. But one thing I like to say together with the second last image is that Lilac actually feels chronically empty. (Thank you quite bpd. Life would be so cool without you). If she can't be a use for someone, make people happy or meet up to people expectations perfectly she just spirals down into a massive amount of self hatred. And that's what my Yumeship Story is literally about... Faba and Lilac trying to deal with their mental struggles, their uncontrollable feelings and thoughts they often have towards themselves and others and live a happy and healthy life because thats what I need. Life is enough angst and pain most of the time. :")

7. Just telling your boss how amazing he is. Stroke that ego *patpat*

8. Have ya ever heard that NPD and BPD often go hand in hand? This time they do literally- (Also disclaimer that I dont want to seem like I cutify disorders; both of them are very life ruining to live with and I wish these on nobody)

9. A huggy for everyone that wants to after reading this whole chunk of text or looking at my art.

Happy Holidays to you!

[scaredcrab]

Coffee Shop II (drabble)

Character: ☾ Macaque x Reader ☽

✐ Summary: You work at this café. Suddenly, there's a monkey there!

✐ Category: Cute. Romantic. Funny.

Since you guys loved the Wukong one, I thought the other monkey man also deserved his own coffee shop text. ★ ☆

Link to Wukong version: Here.

-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-

☆ That's how it all started: Sun no longer visible, everything covered with shadows, courtesy of the dark gray clouds that embraced the horizon with their humidity, a sky ready to cry.

☆ A ring it's heard coming from the front door, revealing him in a wet cloak. Macaque walks in his human form towards you, leaving a dripping trail as he approaches.

☆ "May I have a warm drink, please?"

You looked at him and waited,

And waited,

Waited until the warrior himself got annoyed and gave you an irritated look.

"Did you have an issue with me, you-…?" - You raise one finger to his mouth to shut him.

"Which warm drink? You need to be more specific than that."

☆ He slaps the finger from his mouth, and gritted his teeth, all of this while slamming one of his hands in the counter you were standing.

☆ A sigh followed by a roll of your eyes was all you had to him. Soon you turned your back to the simian, leaving the cashier area.

☆ "Wha... What about my drink?"

"Ask for something specific and I will get it. If you're here just for shelter from the rain, you can just stay, but I'm not going to guess your order."

☆ Oh, of course, he would be specific. He would be the most specific as possible, a special treatment just for you. As you got back, he had a giant grin in his face...

...

☆ Different from what he expected, you continued unbothered while writing a super complicated order.

"A large cup with half soy milk and half goat milk, a bit of decaf coffee, 6 pumps of vanilla, 6 pumps of classic syrup, and 69 pumps of sugar free caramel syrup. All with hot milk, warm decaf coffee, cinnamon sprinkled on top, whipped cream and purple sprinkles. May I offer something to eat alongside the drink?"

How did you even understand all of this when he said as fast as he could?

☆ The warrior felt challenged. It was the dumbest task he could ever accept, but he wanted said mission.

☆ Showing up at your workplace to try to annoy you with the craziest requests became routine for the monkey.

☆ You never seemed to mind (actually enjoying the daily share of laughs when the order ended up being a shit for all the originality of different ingredients combined), and had an amazing ability to always understand these orders.

☆ Even with you always getting the orders right, your never got his name right. It would always be spelled wrong in the cups, creating a new funny nickname with each visit.

"Here is your drink and your mango mousse, mister Mah-cake."

☆ He never got to earn a good reaction, no matter how insane his requests would be. It was always you laughing at him drinking a new special combination, never him getting the fun.

This until he learned a trick.

☆ "Here's your order." - It was quickly placed on the table, practically slapped there, you turned away, without caring who you were serving.

Instead of getting mad at this, Macaque just lazily teased you, "Are you nervous, sweetie?~ Want me to hold your hands in mine?"

☆ While you shifted in place to go away, he didn't catch the vision of your face fast enough, but he could hear what he has done to you.

A little squeak of surprise, so subtle that no mortal hearing would catch it, and the heartbeat accelerating. That changed the whole dynamic.

☆ From that day on he started to dedicate himself to saying things that made you blush instead of trying to exaggerate the requests.

☆ Shameless flirting, compliments on appearance, the occasional gentle touch on your hand as you slid the order across the table for him. Each gesture accompanied by the most velvety voice he could muster.

☆ "Uh... Could you repeat the order, please?" - A blush so strong filled your head to the point that even your ears turned red.

"Pardon me, what did you just say now?"

☆ Of course, the Six Eared Macaque heard what you said, but he wanted to hear again. You finally didn't understand an order, and it wasn't because of how hard it was to get it, it was for the fact that he managed to make you unable to concentrate.

☆ His eyes got wrapped in the satisfying view of you shaking lightly, with eyes that darted from the ground to his lips while weakly mumbling "I got distracted".

☆ As the days passed he felt more pleasure in seeing you like this, and with all that passing of time he felt more and more the desire to always see you. It was fact that he caught some feelings.

☆ Despite your insecurities, you started to flirt back, in your own way. His favorite table was always reserved for him, sometimes his order would come with extra desserts, and occasionally a napkin would appear in his stuff with a written question asking his favorites musics, the answer would define the soundtrack for the café on that day.

☆ "Look, I'm really liking all those special favors, but when are you going to make a move on me?"

The face hid behind a tray, pretending not to hear as you left, "H-Have a nice day!"

☆ One day a customer started bothering you. Your service wasn't fast enough in his opinion, and because of that he made sure to mistreat you in public.

☆ To avoid things from getting out of hand, you listened to all with your head down in hope that he would go away after saying everything he wanted to.

But he only left after throwing a cup in your direction, luckily he didn't hurt you much.

☆ Macaque couldn't control himself. Once the man got out of the place, the monkey dragged him to an alley and beat the shit out of him.

"Never bother them again, did you hear me?"

☆ He just didn't count on the fact that the back doors of the cafeteria led to that alley, that you would open the door to throw out the garbage and end up watching the whole fight without him noticing.

☆ "Well, I guess you saw all of that, huh? Are you scared of me now? Are you afraid of demons?" - Macaque pulled his theatrics to make his lil dramatic phrase.

"... Thank you for defending me, Macaque." - You quickly leave a peck at his cheek and run back to the café.

He is left with the sweet sensation of victory.

☆ Macaque's regular visits continue, and after gathering your courage, you finally call the demon to go out and soon after you two starts dating.

[digitaldiarystuff]

False Hope Pt.4

soo like i said i read the series last weekend and got inspired again but honestly, third part could easily be the last so read it with caution and hope you enjoy it love yall sm

————

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

summary: you’re close friends with Pedri and pretty much in love with him, pretending you’re not you went to comfort him but he seeks the comfort in a different way than you would’ve expected

genre: suggestive but not quite, angst

————

It had been a few weeks since you last saw Pedri and it couldn’t have been worse. He was occupying every thought and every dream, making you question your decision. Maybe it could’ve been better if you just agreed to go back and resume life without ever mentioning your undying love. You constantly stalked his instagram and even the gossip accounts just to see him being completely mia. He wasn’t spotted out in a while and hasn’t posted any training pics which was out of the ordinary but couldn’t bring yourself to reach out. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it but just was worried the reaction you’d get would be severely negative.

The only way you could be notified of his recent life was through Ferran and Sara. She was constantly coming by and trying to cheer you up, you weren’t particularly close beforehand but even the most stupid person aka Ferran could tell there had been something wrong with you and Pedri so Sara tried her best to be there for you even though you didn’t tell her much just that you had a falling out. It sounded stupid, like you were two high schoolers but you didn’t know how to put it into words. Sara understood and didn’t pry too much.

“You’re coming, right?” she asked excitedly but you were completely zoned out thinking about Pedri again.

“Coming where?”

“To Ferran’s birthday silly.” she bumped her shoulder with yours in a playful manner but you were quick to shake your head repeatedly.

“No no no no no no”

“Yes yes yes yes” she raised eyebrows trying to sound authoritative. “You need it, also Ferran really wants you there”

“Sara I really appreciate it but I’m going to have to pass.”

“Whyy?” she whined.

“You know why.” you looked at your hands anxiously.

“Y/N, isn’t it time that you let go?”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t because you weren’t ready to start crying in the middle of a cafe on a random Thursday.

“Look, I don’t know the specifics but I know you two care about each other even though you don’t believe it right now. You were really close for a long time, that’s not something you could pretend never happened, if you want to talk to him this is your opportunity and if you don’t that’s also completely fine. Just don’t shut yourself out.” she sympathetically held your hand and made you look up at her.

“But if you seriously don’t want to, I’ll find something to tell Ferran. Do what you think is the best.”

You thanked her and left the cafe soon after needing a long bath to clear your head. There was no way you could go to a party Pedri would definitely be at, it was the dumbest thing you could do.

So here you were, waiting nervously next to Sara fidgeting with your hands while simultaneously trying to act chill. It was a hard combo to maintain and you often found yourself scanning the room vigorously to see if a certain someone showed up yet.

“He’ll come, just relax.” she said noticing your mannerisms and all you could manage to do was a small nod.

After a while with the help of alcohol, you managed to loosen up a little. You wished Ferran a happy birthday and danced with him and Sara for the most part but now had to use the bathroom. When you were finally done and making your way downstairs, your eyes immediately met with Pedri’s. It’s like he was waiting for you, under the stairs just looking up. He looked even better now, if that’s possible. He shaved and was surprisingly wearing bootcut cargo pants instead of his usual skinny jeans. He looked at you with such softness you almost melted but quickly told yourself off for being this delusional, if he wanted you he would’ve said something. He rejected you.

You tried to look unbothered and tried walking past him without having any conversation, as much as you wanted to see Pedri once you did you realized you were still so hung up on him and it made you pity yourself. But Pedri, being as annoying as he was, couldn’t let you to just leave without talking to him and followed you around like a lost puppy. You tried engaging in convos with random people beside you just to make him leave but he patiently waited until whoever you were talking to had to bail and play beer pong.

“Can we talk now?” he expectantly asked while you looked around for any possible escape routes but there weren’t any.

“About what?”

“Y/N I miss you” he said defeated and you immediately felt your eyes watering.

“We shouldn’t do this here, c’mon let’s find somewhere more quiet.” you said and walked ahead of him. It was actually because you didn’t want to cry in front of 100 people.

Once you were outside sitting on the loungers he took a deep breath and started again.

“Y/N I know it’s all my fault. I know that I hurt you so much and I’m sorry for all of it. I didn’t get a chance to properly do it before.” he looked down embarrassed and you slowly nodded. You weren’t actually waiting for an apology but hearing Pedri take responsibility made you feel a little bit better.

“Honestly, it’s okay Pedri.” you looked up at him and for a moment saw his eyes glistening when you called him Pedri instead of Pedro.

“This is life, you can’t always get what you want. I really don’t blame you, there’s no bad blood, yeah.” you smiled softly and he nervously gulped.

“I- I wanted to…”

“We should get back inside.” you announced as he was saying something.

“Did you want to say something?”

“Um, no no.”

You went back inside and successfully removed yourself from the awkward situation. Talking with him both felt familiar and new, like something completely changed in your relationship forever and you didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about it.

Throughout the night, Pedri watched your every move. His eyes never left your figure while you tried to keep yourself busy yet he never approached you again. As much as you enjoyed his attention, it was also a curse because you tripped on your two feet more times than you could count and it was becoming more and more embarrassing by the second. Your latest success was to spill your beer all over the floor and on yourself a little. Everyone laughed at how clumsy you were and so did you, the alcohol in your system making it easier. Sara told you, you could clean yourself in their bathroom and even get something to change into so you went upstairs oblivious to the fact that Pedri followed suit.

You clumsily picked out a shirt from Sara’s closet and as you pulled your shirt up the door opened slowly and Pedri was on the other side. He immediately looked away, took a step back and shut the door a little so there’s just a crack.

“Oh I’m so sorry I knocked but when you didn’t answer, just wanted to check up on you.” he excused himself and you were too shocked to realize you were in your bra when he walked in. You only remembered to put the other shirt on once he got out.

“Uh, it’s alright. I was just changing.” you said with burning cheeks. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Y/N I have some things I want to say to you and I wanted to talk to you outside but chickened out before.” he started and you stiffened up thinking this couldn’t be anything good. Maybe he had a girlfriend and wanted to let you know before they made it public or he wanted you to exclude yourself from his friend group.

“Why are we talking through a door? You can come inside and talk.” you laughed a little trying ti ease the situation but Pedri stayed outside.

“It’s easier this way.”

“Pedri if it’s…”

“Please let me finish. I prepared a speech and all just in case if I ever had the guts to talk to you. When I first came onto you, I didn’t know why I did it and I know this makes me a jerk but it’s the truth. I thought it was because I was frustrated and I just needed an outlet but… I would never have done something like that to you I care about you so much so when it happened I was a wreck. I was a proper asshole and I don’t blame you for leaving me like that. I chalked it all up to being lonely and having a close friendship but no, all day all night I thought about it Y/N. I tried my best to keep the act and continue being friends but when you pulled away from me it hurt so much that’s when I knew it couldn’t just be the friendship we have. It must be something more if I follow you around town just to prevent you from hooking up with a guy.” he laughed a little and you joined him. Even though that night was a nightmare for the most part, you couldn’t shake the feeling when he came to pick you up or when he begged the receptionist for the room number.

“So I knew then. I don’t know how I could be so blind for all this time actually. But after that you were so broken that I couldn’t cause you any more pain. I figured it’d be easier for both of us if I stayed silent and let you live your own life because truth to be told I’m a mess. I can’t promise you anything, I can’t say I’ll never hurt you because I did.”

You were slowly inching towards the door and didn’t even realize some tears falling from your eyes with his confession. He was right, he hurt you and made you miserable but he also made you the happiest girl with just a smile or a hug. You felt safe around him, you felt appreciated.

“And my life is so busy and I don’t ever want to make you feel neglected, this season has been… Never mind, we’re here to talk about us.” and with that you opened the door and saw Pedri also with teary eyes and a pout. When he saw you open the door he was taken aback and stopped immediately like he forgot everything he wanted to say.

“Y/N”

“Pedri” you smiled and once he saw you he started smiling too. You looked at each other for a moment before he reached for your hands pulling you a little closer.

“I meant everything I said.”

“I know.” and you really did know, Pedri may be a lot of things but he’s not a liar.

“And I know you deserve the best, you deserve a stable guy with the most time in the world to shower you with love and…” he trailed off.

“And?”

“And I’m willing to try to be that person, only if you allow me.” he raised his eyebrows in a curious manner and you thought about your whole history. Since the day you’ve met there was a voice inside you saying you were supposed to be together and here he was after all this time asking you.

As you were having an debate inside you Pedri took the chance to lean in closer.

“I’m not going anywhere this time.” he smiled and all you could do was lean into him and trust your gut feeling. Your noses were touching at this point and you could feel both your heartbeats going crazy.

Pedri closed the gap between you two and connected your lips. You reciprocated immediately and knew this was nothing like the last time, this was the Pedri you knew with all the determination in the world and he’d do anything to keep his word.

Maybe it wasn’t all false hope.

[bruisedboys]

hi love can i plz have little women-“ i just realized i don’t care if they’re the most perfect person in the world. they’re not you.” w james ??

congrats on 3k!!!!!!!!

idk if I did this ask justice but I tried!!! hope it’s ok lovely

summary: james comes to your house with a confession

fem!reader 0.7k words

James is soaking wet at your front door. You blink at him and think maybe you’re dreaming.

“James,” you say. You can barely hear yourself. It’s pouring rain and your heartbeat is twice as loud as it usually is. “What are you doing here?”

James doesn’t seem to notice the rain where it’s starting to drip into his eyes. His lovely dress shirt is soaked through. He stares right back at you like it’s his first time seeing you.

“Can I come in?” He asks.

“I— yeah, of course.” You grab his arm and pull him in, hardly caring about the rain and flecks of mud he tracks in on his shoes. “Get inside, Jamie, you’re soaked.”

James steps inside and you close the door behind him. The rain becomes muffled, a lovely, calming drumming sound. You turn on James. Somehow, soaked through and shivering, he looks pretty as ever.

“James,” you say again, because you don’t know what else to say. “What—?”

“Listen.” James cuts you off and grabs you by the elbows. It’s alarming how quickly he gets you in his hands. Even more so how willing you are to be manhandled by him. “I need to tell you something.”

You blink. You can’t quite clock the look on his face. Something akin to desperation. You wonder if there’s been a horrible emergency with one of his friends.

“I thought you had a date,” you say blankly. Its a stupidly obvious thing to say, but you’re feeling very dazed.

James nods. “Right, I did. She wasn’t— it didn’t really work out.”

Your heart does this horrible thing where it jumps to your throat with hopefulness. You swallow harshly in a poor attempt push it back down.

“But,” you flounder. James had showed you a picture of her earlier in the week. Prettiest girl you’d ever seen. “She— well, she seemed pretty perfect.”

James grabs you tighter. Pulls you closer. His eyelashes cling together in sparkling triangles.

“That’s the thing, Y/N,” he says, looking at you with a sort of desperation that makes your legs a bit wobbly. “I’m— well, I guess I just realised. I don’t care if she’s the most perfect girl in the world. She’s not you.”

You blink. You think maybe your heart’s stopped. You don’t hear yourself when you say, “What?”

“I think I love you,” he keeps going, and somehow it just keeps getting worse. Or better, you can’t decide. “And— and I don’t mind if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to tell you as soon as possible because— well, because I’ve been going on all these dates, when all this time it’s been you.”

James takes a takes a deep breath, looking like he has a lot more to say. You don’t think your heart could take it. You stop him before he can.

“James.” You steal your arms from his grip and slide your hands up his arms until you reach his biceps. His shirt is drenched and the silk is iridescent and his lovely brown skin peeks through at you. “What are you saying?”

James laughs, and it’s ditzy and awkward and it sounds like nothing like you’ve ever heard James do before. Then again, this is all new. This touching. His confession.

“I’m saying,” he starts. “I’m saying that I think I’m like, the dumbest person in the world. To not have noticed this sooner.”

You think you know what he’s saying. But you’re also horrified by the hope that’s burning like fire in your chest.

“Noticed what?” You ask, hushed and hopeful.

“Noticed you,” James says, with a look so earnest and fond you think you might pass out.

This is all you’ve ever dreamed of. But somehow, not a single word comes to mind. You stand there, James’s hair and clothes dripping all over you and your carpet, his confession hanging in the gap between you like a burning star, and try not to start crying.

“James,” you finally get out. He’s got a curl hanging over his eye. You reach up and push it out of his face. Your fingers linger in his inky curls. They’re darker than usual, all wet like this. Almost pitch black. You fall in love with him all over again. “I think I might love you, too.”

James’s eyebrows shoot up. It’s almost comical. And also very adorable.

“You might?” He asks, definitely teasing. You get the feeling he’s maybe known you’ve loved him for a while, now. You’re pretty sure you’ve never been too subtle about it.

You huff. Even now, he’s James Potter to the bone. “Careful. I might change my mind.”

When he kisses you, it’s messy and it’s awkward and he’s still soaking wet, but it’s nothing short of perfect.

-

fixing readmore glitch