#without getting into detail.. it is a topic that hits pretty close to home

[rosemirmir]

When I have all my thoughts cooked and the time to sit down and make it: I wanna write a post on the abuse Yui and Shiro dealt with from their parents, how the mirror world was made as a coping mechanism for the abuse... I've just got a lot of thoughts on the topic.

[wandaromanova]

Life Support

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, toxic relationship (?)

A/N: hello! happy reading <3

anon requested: Hi! Can I please request Nat always being on missions 24/7 and not spending time w reader and reader understands at first but after being constantly alone she finally confronts Nat when she’s getting ready to leave again so reader says “if you walk out of that door we’re done” then “please don’t walk out of that door” then Nat walks out so then they’re broken up. Sorry if it’s too specific💕

Summary: All good things must come to an end.

Word Count: 2K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was this; dating an Avenger wasn’t easy.

You were in a relationship with Natasha Romanoff, and have been for the better part of two years now. At first, everything had been absolutely incredible. The redhead would come to your apartment every night, her body entangled with yours beneath your bedsheets. You would wake up to Natasha sleeping soundly beside you, her arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close. Her warm breath would fan against the side of your neck as you took in her features. 

Natasha would slowly stir awake, her eyes moving side-to-side behind her closed eyelids before fluttering open. She would be met with your wide smile shining down at her, your fingers slowly combing through her tresses. The redhead would pull you down by the neck, placing a tender kiss against your lips. 

When she pulled back from the kiss, her eyes would travel down to your neck and admire the dark purple marks that were littered across your skin. It was exhilarating to her, knowing that you were hers. Natasha felt a sense of pride and couldn’t resist a smirk from taking over her face. 

You would cook breakfast in the kitchen while Natasha sat on the counter, ranting about the events of the day before. Your laughs filling the space as she mimicked Steve and Tony’s voices, mocking their ridiculous arguments. Eventually, the redhead would hop off of the counter and come up behind you, her front pressed against your back as she held you by the waist. 

Once the food was cooked, you would sit on Natasha’s lap at the table, your hands linked behind the back of her neck. She would eat and occasionally feed you, holding the spoon up to your mouth and purposely missing your mouth, effectively getting food on your face. Natasha would laugh as an annoyed look would cross your face, a pout gracing your lips. 

The Russian would wipe off the food with the pad of her thumb, sucking it off of her digit before kissing your pouty lips. She wouldn’t stop kissing you until your pout was replaced with a smile. You were in euphoria each time Natasha would visit, but all good things must come to an end.

A feeling of sadness would wash over you each time she would walk out the door, unsure of when she’d return. Seeing her leave never got any easier. All you wanted to do was beg her to stay in your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You weren’t the only person that needed Natasha and you understood that. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Despite the feeling of despair that would creep into your chest, you never complained. You were aware of how selfish it would seem if you were to even so much as bring up the topic of Natasha staying for longer than a night. She was a vital part of the Avengers, a team that saved the world from threats on a daily. 

You had handled the arbitrariness of Natasha’s profession pretty well and settled for it. Having Natasha in your life occasionally was a lot better than not having her at all. However, there was only so much you could take. And one night, you had finally had enough. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

For the past six months, you had seen Natasha a total of ten times. It seemed as if she had been taking on more missions that varied in their durations. She was gone for weeks at a time and wouldn’t contact you the entire time, unaware of when she was due to return. You would only find out when she was back home when she was already knocking at your front door. 

To say you missed Natasha would be the understatement of the century; you missed her like fucking crazy.

You would spend the weeks she was away, sleeping in bed alone as you clutched her pillow close to your chest. You practically lived in the sweaters she left at your apartment, the faint smell of her perfume lingering on the articles of clothing. The day you realized her scent had faded, you almost burst out into tears. 

It made you feel disgusted with yourself. You were waiting around like a lost puppy, desperate for Natasha’s return. You couldn’t focus at work either. Your thoughts were focused on Natasha.

Will she come home soon? Is she okay? Is the mission she’s on super dangerous? Is she not replying to your texts because she’s busy or because she isn’t alive to do so? Or what if she had been home and just didn’t care to see you? What if she didn’t love you anymore?

These questions circulated your mind in each time of Natasha’s absence. You knew that you had to confront her, but didn’t know how to go about the situation. What? Are you supposed to go up to her and say ‘Stop saving the world to spend time with me’? Obviously fucking not.

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous you felt. Natasha was out risking her life for humanity and here you were, moping over not being able to see her. Pathetic. 

Regardless of how absurd you thought your concerns were, they didn’t stop you from finally confronting your never-present girlfriend.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had been sat on the couch when a knock sounded at the door. You immediately sprang up and rushed toward the door, hoping to see the woman that’s been plaguing your mind. To your surprise, you were met with red locks and green eyes shining with joy. 

You had to fight the urge to leap into her arms and shower her face with little kisses. Natasha’s happiness turned to confusion when you wordlessly moved to the side, giving her some room to enter. The sound of her heavy combat boots hitting the hardwood floor resounded throughout your apartment. 

You shut the door slowly, leaning your forehead against it with a sigh. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to confront the woman if you laid eyes on her. Natasha had you wrapped around her finger and you couldn’t help but feel like she capitalized on your weakness at times.

“Y/N? What’s wrong, moya lyubov (my love)?” Natasha’s raspy voice met your ears and you let out a shaky breath. “The fact that you don’t know what’s wrong IS what’s wrong.” Your voice came out small and you couldn’t see it, but Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

You heard her footsteps approaching you and you quickly turned around, coming face-to-face with your girlfriend, “What are you talking about?” Natasha’s hands moved up to cup your cheeks, but you swatted her hands away. 

“You’re never here, Natasha. That is what I’m talking about.” You walked past her and paced around the living room. The redhead was glued to her spot, her eyes following your every move. Your shoulders were tensed, your eyes were fixated on the floor as you walked around. Natasha had never seen you so serious before, and she wouldn’t admit it, but she was terrified.

“I’m here whenever I can be. Is that not enough for you?” Your movements came to an abrupt halt and you whipped around to stare at your girlfriend as if she had grown two heads. “No! It may be enough for you, but it isn’t for me! I’m alone for weeks on end without so much as a fucking text from you!” You raised your voice and Natasha felt irritation arise within her. 

“I can’t stop in the middle of a shootout or an interrogation to message you! I’m sorry that I’m away all the time and can’t give you details, but it’s my fucking job! You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me.” Natasha moved until she stood directly in front of you, chest rising and falling quickly as she took shallow breaths. Her eyes were trained on yours with an intimidating glare, but you weren’t scared of her. 

“My job is a priority.” The redhead gritted out through clenched teeth. You felt your own anger expand at her words. “And I’m not?” You questioned Natasha challengingly and she shook her head with a dark chuckle. 

“No. You’re not.” You felt your heart shatter completely. Her tone was emotionless and she spoke as if she didn’t care at all; like you were a stranger.

“My job comes before anything, including you. I can’t let the world fall apart just because you’re a needy bitch that can’t spend a fucking minute without me.”

Natasha was relentless and you couldn’t handle it. Tears rapidly fell from your eyes as your chest constricted, making it hard to breathe.

People who said that words couldn’t physically hurt you; were full of shit. Each word that fell from her lips felt like a stab to the heart. And as everyone knew, Natasha Romanoff was very good with knives. 

“What? You’re not gonna say anything now? You sure as hell had a lot of shit to talk a minute ago.”

Natasha’s tone was cold and you hated yourself for still trying to find the warmth that you used to soak in, but you couldn’t find it. All you were met with was a blistering wind that sent shivers up your spine. 

You remained silent, focusing on containing the harsh sobs that threatened to wrack your body. Natasha rolled her eyes at you and turned around, heading straight for the door. An alarm sounded in your head as you watched her walk away. 

“If you walk out of that door, we’re done.” Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke. Natasha froze, her hand on the doorknob going still. She stayed there for a minute, contemplating her next move. Of course, you didn’t think the redhead would actually leave, but she was always full of surprises.

Your eyes widened as she twisted the knob, pulling the door open. “Wait! Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.” Honestly, you didn’t really know why you were apologizing. If anything, the roles should’ve been reversed in this moment, but you were willing to say or do anything if it meant Natasha would stay.

Natasha ignored your pleas and took one step out of the door before you hastily rushed after her. You gripped her wrist for dear life and her head whipped around, a look of annoyance on her face. 

“Let go of me.” Natasha tore her hand out of your hand easily, considering she was much stronger than you were. You remained in the doorway as you watched the redhead strut down the hall until she reached the staircase. As soon as you lost sight of her, you slammed the door and fell to your knees. 

You had no intention of destroying your relationship. All you wanted to do was voice your concerns to Natasha. You were expecting endless reassurances as she wrapped her strong arms around your body.

But instead, you were crying on the cold floor of your apartment, her harsh words echoing throughout your mind. Part of you was waiting for her to knock on the door and apologize profusely for leaving, but Natasha was lots of things, and stubborn was one of them. 

Once Natasha came to a decision, there wasn’t much that could change her mind. That’s what hurt the most. You were positive that the redhead loved you just as much as you did her. You felt as though nothing could sever the unbreakable connection that brought you two together. The possibility of Natasha willingly leaving you had never crossed your mind. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for this outcome.

Natasha Romanoff was your everything. Her cocky smirk and infectious laughter were the oxygen that filled your lungs each time you took a breath. Her shiny green eyes and red locks were the chemical reactions of your brain that produced dopamine. 

Her love coursed through your bloodstream and kept your heart pumping. But now, she was gone. The minute she walked out, the light in your eyes disappeared and your skin slowly turned to dust. Without the woman you loved, you were nothing but a withering corpse going through the decomposition process.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha was your life support and she decided it ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ was time to pull the plug. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[the-hinky-panda]

Day 27: Concoction

10/27: Concoction

Universe // Characters: Den of Thieves - Penny Universe // Benny “Borracho” Magalon 

You had no idea what you had just signed up for when you agreed to go to Mexico. You did know more about Benny than you let on, asking Nick about his coworkers more and more often. You were able to pick up minor details from your brother before suspicion halted your questions. The most important thing you learned is that Nick trusted him more than anyone else on the team. Of course you didn’t have the details as to why that trust had been given, but the mere fact that it was there spoke volumes. 

That was the foundation for your decision to go to Mexico with him. Everything else, the waiting for news of when the rescheduled flight would leave, the flight there, and the ride to his Uncle’s home a couple blocks from the beach, just confirmed that this has the potential to be a good experience. Being around Benny is the opposite of being around Nick. Benny is quiet, not having to constantly fill the time with words or tasteless jokes. Conversation runs smoothly, effortlessly. You’re not waiting for a blow up or walking on eggshells around certain topics. 

It’s relaxing being in his company. 

You’re trying to figure out how to keep up this friendship when you get back to California without Nick finding out and making Benny’s life miserable when he touches your arm to get your attention. 

“Watch out for Luisa, she’s the middle sister,” he warns quietly as you walk up to the front door of the house. “She’s known for mixing drinks and hiding large quantities of coconut rum in them. We call those concoctions ‘truth tellers.’  They'll knock you on your ass and then all three sisters will start asking you questions.” 

Considering some of the things Nick had pulled with you over the years, this sounds fairly innocuous. “Don’t hammer the fruity drinks. Got it.” 

“And if you want to tap out at any time, just let me know.” 

You don’t know why, but his concern touches you more than it should. You manage to give him a smile before the front door opens and chaos ensues. There must be close to thirty people in the house. Kids are playing with their newly acquired toys from the Christmas morning present opening. The smell of food hits and reminds you of just how long it’s been since you’ve eaten some real, home cooked food. The house has large, vaulted ceilings, a huge family room decorated riotously for Christmas, and every available surface in the kitchen has offers of food. 

You meet a few important players, like his mother and uncle, before food and drinks are shoved into your hands. His mother is a stately woman, nicely dressed, hair and make-up well done, and a refined elegance to her. His uncle is more boisterous, barrel chested and full of warmth and welcome. You’re surprised that they greet you with genuine interest but then realize you are being presented as his first girlfriend after a divorce. But they’re polite enough to not bombard you with questions right at the start. 

You end up finding a quiet corner in the living room at a small breakfast bar and try to just stay out of the way while eating some of the best food you’ve ever tasted. But it doesn’t take long for a brightly colored cocktail to be set down in front of you by a pretty young woman. You notice her eyes are the same shade as Benny’s, as is the twist in her smile. 

“I’m Luisa.” 

You give her your real name in return. It’ll be nice to go through a holiday without hearing “Penny” shouted every five minutes. God, you hated that nickname. “I appreciate you all welcoming me to your family gathering.” 

“Well, when Benny said that his new girlfriend had her plans canceled for Christmas,” she shrugs, “what else could we do?” 

You pick up on the undercurrent of suspicion in her tone. “You could have said no.” 

She gives you a slightly surprised look at your forwardness before a true smile creeps across her face. She pushes the drink towards you. “I like you.” 

“Thank you.” You take a sip and sure enough, there’s the coconut rum underneath fresh, sweet fruit juices. It tastes like mango and pineapple. Luisa engages in small talk until about half the drink is gone. Unfortunately for her, you’re Irish, which means you cut your teeth on whiskey in your baby bottle. Literally. But she doesn’t need to know that. 

“How long have you and Benny been going out?” 

“Not that long.” 

“How did you meet?” 

“My brother works with him at the Sheriff's office.” 

“Are you divorced?” 

“No, I’ve never been married.” 

“Kids?” 

“No.” 

“You know he’s divorced, right?” 

You nod. “Six months now, right?” 

“Seven, actually.” She pauses. “Did you know her?” 

“Never met her, no.” You think about asking Luisa about Benny’s ex but don’t want to come across as jealous or insecure. You are the new girlfriend after all. “So tell me about yourself. What do you do?” 

“Marketing. I manage the accounts of the clients on the business side. Did you not meet his ex because you were cheating with him?” 

Right for the jugular and you weren’t even finished with the drink yet. “You accusing your brother of stepping out? Because that seems like something I should know before we go further. Is he a cheater?” 

Luisa gives you a completely shocked look before breaking into a wide smile, and raising her wine glass to the other two sisters across the room. “I like her, she’s good!”  She turns back to you. “And just so you know, she stepped out on him.” 

Benny comes over to where you're sitting and leans on the back of the bar stool. “What are you doing to her? She hasn’t even been here an hour, Lu.” 

“Just telling her about the puta-” 

“Hey, hey,” he interrupts her, “what’d I say about calling her that?” 

Luisa shrugs. “Well, she was.” 

“No more talking about my ex.” 

“Alright,” Lusia says, “what did Benny get you for Christmas?” 

You can feel him tense behind you, hear the hold he has on the back of the barstool tighten. But you just reach for the chain around your neck and show her the simple circle sapphire pendant. 

Lusia nods. “Impressive, Ben.”

You flash him a smile over your shoulder. “I thought so.” 

He leans down and kisses your cheek but uses it as a cover to whisper a quick “thanks” before he’s pulled away by a group of his nephews who want to show him their new drone. The conversation between you and Luisa warms to more friendly topics so when Benny’s two other sisters join, it’s a pleasant interaction. His uncle asks you about your food preferences, pulls out a couple dishes from the oven and piles your plate up with seconds. It takes you most of the afternoon to work through that round, which was just as good as the first. When the sun starts to drop towards the horizon, everyone grabs a chair or blanket and walks the two blocks to the beach. You wonder where Benny and the kids managed to go but you see they’ve actually staked off a large section of the beach and started a bonfire. 

A large cooler with beers and cans of wine is dropped in the sand and you grab two beers before unfolding the blanket you had grabbed. As soon as you land in the soft sand, Benny joins you, picking up the second beer thankfully. 

“I’m getting too old to keep up with them.” 

“You’ve also been up for almost 48 hours,” you remind him. 

“So have you.” He leans back on his elbows. “You ready to tap out yet?” 

You look around the bonfire, everyone spread out in their groups, together but still semi-private. The warmth of the fire pairs well with the chilly sea breeze and beer. You can hear the crash of the waves in the distance, the pop and crackle of the fire, and the low murmur of happy voices. It’s quite honestly the nicest Christmas evening you’ve had in years. “No, I’m good.” 

“Okay.” 

You finish the beer and then lay down on the soft sand. The sky is clear, stars scattered across the night sky. Just when you didn’t think the evening could get even more enjoyable, Benny follows your lead and lays down next to you, your shoulders touching and entwining his fingers with yours. You know it’s for show but a part of you enjoys the feeling of having someone close, touching you. It’s been a couple years since your last relationship and you’ve missed this physicality. 

But Benny complicates the matter for you. He’s a nice guy. A really nice guy based on what you’ve gathered from the last two days spent with him. His family seems to back up your observations. His sisters didn’t say one negative thing about him. If anything, they made it sound like he was the ultimate protector of the family. His uncle smiled whenever he said Benny’s name, smiled large enough that the corner of his eyes crinkled and a dimple appeared in his cheek. His nephews adored him given they were still climbing on him after three hours of playing on the beach. 

There’s a part of you that wishes this isn’t a scam and you’re not quite sure what to do with that realization.

[baecvlt]

Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader

this was requested via my twitter:

“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”

a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)

warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)

• • •

It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.

Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.

A moving van?

Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.

He was “going for a walk”.

Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—

“Hi!”

She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.

“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”

“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”

“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”

He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.

“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”

One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.

“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”

“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”

“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”

She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.

She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”

“Academic scholarships”

“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”

The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’m already so full”

“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”

“What’s that?”

“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”

Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.

“Goodnight, you”

Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡

“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”

He nodded.

She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”

“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”

“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”

“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”

“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”

“G-Goodnight”

He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.

He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.

“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”

Just more to add to his notebook.

He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”

Oh, thank god.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”

“Great. See you then!”

He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.

“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”

“Okay, mom”

She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”

“Bastard”

“Nessa”

“I guess I walked right into that one”

Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.

“Hey, its okay not to understand things”

Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.

Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.

“I’m tired, but class was okay”

“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”

“Thanks”

Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.

“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”

“Oh, you’re just saying things...”

“No, really! Thank you”

He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.

The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.

“Were you following me yesterday?”

Shit.

“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.

“—What do you want?”

None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.

“I’m sorry”

“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”

Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.

“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”

“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.

He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.

“Do you know what to do with them?”

He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.

He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.

That was a mistake.

“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.

“You’re so sensitive there”

She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”

She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.

“Y-Yes..”

“Where do you wanna cum?”

“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”

She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.

“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”

“C-Can I?”

“Yes, dummy”

She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.

“I’d love that actually”

“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”

“I feel so lucky”

He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Four (Harry Styles)

a/n: happy TLABL day!! can’t believe we are already on part 4! im not sure if part 5 will be the last part, im still very much writing the rest so we’ll see! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, i love reading your reactions! feedback is very much appreciated this time as well!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck or at least consumed a whole bottle of tequila. Your head is pounding and it’s probably with all the crying and stress, so you are quick to take some pills to ease the pain. Sitting on the edge of your bed you stare ahead of you blankly, trying to gain power to start the day.

Though today is Sunday, so you are not working, you’re still worried to face Harry after whatever it was that happened last night. What were you thinking, kissing your boss out of the blue? And what was he thinking kissing you for the second time? It kind of feels like a dream, but you know it really did happen.

You try to stay in your room as long as possible, avoiding to face Harry, but soon enough you can’t postpone it any longer, because you are starving. Peeking out of your room you hear voices coming from downstairs and as you reach the stairs you recognize not just Harry’s and Izzy’s voice, but Niall’s as well.

Arriving downstairs you see Niall and Izzy sitting on the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is cleaning the dishes after their breakfast probably. He is wearing a pair of light-washed jeans and a black hoodie, the sleeves bunched around his elbows. He looks so casual and yet just looking at him makes your heart skip a beat. You are in some big trouble.

Niall spots you first and he perks up waving in your way happily.

“Good morning, Y/N!” he beams, his accent sounds so comforting in such a stressful moment, for some reason.

“Hi, good morning,” you breathe out. Harry turns around, his eyes fall on you and a shiver runs down your spine. He just looked at you and you already want to run away and hide in your room a little longer.

“Morning,” he greets you with a nod before turning back to the sink to finish the dishes.

“Daddy and Uncle Niall are taking me to the park! We are picking Yara up too!” Izzy shares the news with you excitedly.

“Oh, that sounds great!” you smile at her, giving her cheek a gentle pinch before moving to the fridge.

“Do you want to come?” she invites you and your eyes immediately flicker over to Harry who looks at you the exact same time, making your stomach drop right away.

“Um, I have some work to do, maybe some other time,” you smile at Izzy, grabbing yourself a yoghurt and a banana before shutting the fridge closed.

“So how was yesterday?” Niall asks and you freeze. Does he know what happened? Did Harry tell him about last night?

Niall sees your frightened look to which he shoots you a confused one.

“The wedding, Harry told me earlier you had a wedding yesterday.”

“Oh, it went… fine,” you nod shortly, peeking at Harry who is now staring down at his feet awkwardly. This was starting to get painfully ridiculous, the two of you dancing around each other, pretending like you weren’t down each other’s throats just a few hours prior.

“Alright, let’s leave, we need to pick Yara up in twenty,” Harry claps his hands. Izzy jumps off the stool and takes Niall’s hand as they all head out of the house. “We’ll probably have lunch somewhere and then go grocery shopping, so we’ll be away for a while,” he informs you without looking your way before leaving without even waiting for any reaction from you.

Yeah, this was straight up the most awkward conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Here, Izzy. Play some games on my phone!” Niall passes his phone to her with a sweet smile, but Harry smacks his bicep.

“What are you doing? She has enough screen time already!”

“Yeah, but I needed her to be busy so I can ask you what the fuck was that in the house.”

Harry curls his lips into his mouth, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him as he tries to come up with a good answer, but he knows he could never fool his best friend.

“Don’t stop, even if she is busy with the phone,” Harry scolds him, glancing at Izzy through the mirror, but she doesn’t seem to be listening to them. Niall rolls his eyes, but lets his words uncommented. “Besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, you exactly know it. You and Y/N were like scared little bunnies around each other. She looked like she was about to faint any moment when you looked at her.”

“Maybe she was just tired,” he shrugs, but Niall laughs at his weak attempt to fool him.

“Now tell me the real reason, I know something happened.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, debating whether he should come clean or not, but he knows Niall won’t leave him until he finally tells him so he is not left with many choices.

“We kissed.”

“What?!” Niall snaps, a little louder than Harry expected, his voice makes him flinch. “Sorry, that was a little too dramatic, but what the fuck? Why were you keeping this from me?!”

“Because I knew this is how you’d react,” Harry mumbles under his breath. “And… I don’t think it will ever happen again.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole thing was a mess,” Harry sighs. “She came home late, pretty upset because she met with her ex at the wedding.”

“The one that cheated on her?”

“Mhm. The dude was an asshole and… she was crying in the kitchen when I came down. We sat on the couch, talked, I tried to calm her down and all that and then… she kissed me.”

“Wait, she kissed you? Wow, she’s got balls!” Niall laughs.

“Yeah, but it was, like, really short and she pulled back, shocked at herself for doing it. I think it was just all the emotions that got her a little confused. But then she tried to apologize and… and I kissed her.”

“What?! Oh my God!” Niall’s mind is blown and he doesn’t even tries to hide his excitement hearing the news about last night. “Was there tongue?”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry scowls. “I’m not sharing the details with you.”

“Okay, but was it like a solid, short kiss or you guys went right at it?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but it tells enough about the situation and Niall can’t help but whistle as he claps his hands.

“Stop acting like a horny teenager, Niall,” Harry growls rolling his eyes at his friend.

“So you guys snogged, what’s the matter with that?”

“It got awkward. We just pulled back and I think we both were pretty shocked about it and… she just stood up and said that she is going to bed. End of story. And then you were there in the morning, so… yeah.”

“Tell me why the hell we are heading to a playdate then when you should be talking to her?” Niall asks, arching an eyebrow at Harry.

“There’s not much to talk about. It just happened in the heat of the moment, that’s all,” Harry shrugs, but deep down he knows it’s a blatant lie. At least on his side.

Unlike you, who fell asleep right away, Harry spent about an hour lying in his bed wide awake, not able to think about anything else but your lips on his. He replayed the whole thing in his head about a million times, he was starting to feel ashamed of it, but he just couldn’t stop.

Your abrupt leaving left him puzzled and he thought long and hard about why you felt the need to run away. The only thing that made sense to him is that you regretted it the moment it happened, that it really did just happen in the heat of the moment so Harry thought it’s best to act like it didn’t even happen.

“Please don’t be an ass and just… talk to her. We both know we can never know for sure what a woman thinks about. You can’t just assume and think that your assumption is one hundred percent right.”

“I find it funny that you’re such an expert in this stuff, but you haven’t had a stable relationship since like, we finished college,” Harry scoffs as he takes the corner and starts driving down the street to Yara’s moms’ house.

“Me not having a relationship doesn’t mean that I’m not good at them. It’s a choice,” Niall smirks.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“But back to the topic, you wanted to kiss her, right?”

“I mean, yeah? It kinda threw me off as well, but it was… nice.”

“Please don’t refer to a kiss as nice again,” Niall gags, but Harry just chuckles at him. “A kiss is hot, passionate, pant tighteni—“

“Okay, that’s enough!” Harry cuts him, earning a cackle from him.

“Just talk to her, don’t be a pussy.”

“I really do need better friends,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he pulls up to the driveway.

You really didn’t feel like staying home alone in that big ass house so you invited yourself over for an early dinner to your mom’s. You haven’t been over since the little fiasco with Trevor so you thought it might be a good idea to spend some time with them. Trevor said they’ve been trying to keep the fighting down to the minimum and not let it turn into a screaming match, so your speech worked after all.

It’s past three o’clock when you leave, no sign of Harry or Izzy and you feel like they won’t be back for a while either, so you lock everything up and head out.

You have a genuinely good time. It’s obvious that your mom feels guilty about her past behavior and is trying to lure you into forgiving her, though you already did that. But you’re happy your little speech worked. At least Trevor can have his peace now.

After dinner your mom disappears in her room and then returns with a nicely wrapped box and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mom, I told you I don’t need gifts.” You give her a look. Your birthday is coming up next week, but you were never the kind to celebrate. You never felt comfortable with all the attention and fuss birthdays come with, so you’ve always liked to keep it down. These past years you didn’t even ask for anything, though your parents never listened and this year doesn’t seem like an exception either.

“Oh hush. You can’t expect me not to celebrate my baby!” she shakes her head, sitting back to the dining table. “And besides, I didn’t pay a dollar for it,” she then adds and now you’re curious what she got you.

Removing the lid of the box you peek inside and your lips immediately part as you see the stack of polaroids inside.

“I know how much you like old photos and when we sold Grandma’s house back in August, I found these in my old room. I got a polaroid camera for graduation, just in time to take tons of pictures of you,” she explains with a soft chuckle as you start going through the pictures from when you were born and the next few years. Whenever you are done looking at a photo you hand it to Trevor so he can take a look at them too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep these, mom?” you ask glancing up at her over the stack.

“I took out a few for myself,” she admits with a sneaky smile. “You can have the rest, I know how much you love these stuff.”

“Thank you, mom,” you smile at her, hugging her from the side, feeling touched by this gift.

It’s nearing eight when you arrive back home, the lights are still up and if you had to guess you’d say that Harry is trying to tire Izzy out enough to put to bed, as usual. Walking in, your guess is proven right, the TV is on in the living room while Harry is sitting on the couch, Izzy all over him in her pink pajamas, playing around with his hair like she always does.

“Hi Y/N!” she calls out happily when she spots you.

“Hi Sunshine, did you have a good time today?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I did! And guess what!”

“What?”

“Yara invited me over for a sleepover!” she beams, clearly ecstatic about the invitation.

“That’s amazing!”

“What’s that?” she curiously asks pointing at the gift box in your hands. Harry turns to see you, his eyes falling on the box as well.

“Oh, it’s a gift I got from my mom,” you explain, stepping closer.

“Is it your birthday?” she questions, knitting her eyebrows together.

“No, not yet. But it will be next week,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Really? Are you having a birthday party?” she gasps, getting way too excited already. Harry eyes you without a word, holding Izzy by her hips so she is not losing her balance standing on the cushion of the couch.

“I’m not, sorry. I don’t like having birthday parties,” you pout at her apologetically.

“Oh, okay. Can I see what you got from your mom?”

“Izzy, don’t be nosy,” Harry warns her, but you just smile at the curious girl.

“Sure,” you nod, joining them on the couch. You sit on the opposite end than where Harry is, Izzy in the middle as she watches the box in awe. You set it down to the cushion and take the lid off, revealing the stack of photos.

“What are these?”

“They are called polaroids. They are old pictures, taken with a special camera that kind of prints the picture out right away,” you explain to her as she takes the first photo from the top, a picture of your mom holding you as a newborn. She was so young, practically a child herself, yet her pride was undeniable, it shone all over her face.  You spot Harry looking at the picture as well over Izzy’s shoulder, still keeping his silence.

“Who are these people?”

“That’s my mom and that’s me as a baby. And… this is my dad,” you hold up another photo that features your dad.

“They really were young when they had you,” Harry speaks up for the first time, surprised by the photos.

“Yeah, they were.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Izzy questions, dropping the photo back into the box as she leans back to lie on Harry’s chest.

“Not sure yet. I might make an album from them,” you shrug. “I really like polaroids, I love that they are one of a kind.”

Izzy nods, though you’re not sure she understood what you meant by that. Fidgeting with her fingers she pushes down a yawn and Harry takes that as a good sign.

“Alright, time for bed, Love. Say good night to Y/N.” He picks her up as he stands from the couch. Izzy waves at you smiling with tired eyes.

“Night-night, Y/N,” she singsongs as Harry carries her towards the stairs.

Putting the pictures back into the box you head into your bedroom too, feeling like the time when you and Harry talk about what happened yesterday will never come. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so you’ll just let it slip. It happened just in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean a thing, you better forget about it.

After a speedy shower you are getting ready to just go to bed, read some and have a relaxing evening, something you didn’t have the luck to have the day before. But right as you’re about to make yourself comfortable in bed, there’s a knock on your door.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you open it and find Harry standing in the hallway.

“I hope you weren’t sleeping already.”

“No. Come on in,” you invite him inside and he walks in. As he awkwardly stops in the middle of the room you realize he hasn’t even been in here since you’ve moved in. He takes a look around, examining what you’ve done with the room and you feel thankful you decided to put your laundry away just yesterday, so no dirty underwear is littering the floor anywhere.

“How can I help you?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I, erm… I just wanted to clear some things,” he starts, clearly feeling nervous about the conversation and that makes the two of you for sure. Nodding you let him know that you’re waiting for him to carry on. “What happened yesterday…” he starts and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You were very emotional, a lot happened and it was a very confusing moment probably for the both of us. I really like working with you, I’m very happy with the way you’ve been taking care of Izzy and I would hate to ruin it with anything.”

You can feel your stomach dropping even though you were bracing yourself for this version of the situation. It was very likely that Harry would want to keep things professional, like before, but it still makes you feel like shit.

“I’m sorry for stepping over some boundaries, but I really hope that… we can put it behind us and that we can move on.”

He is using his business tone. It’s the same tone he used with Sarah and his assistants and now he is using it to talk about the kiss that happened between the two of you.

“Sure,” you answer quietly nodding. “Moving on sounds… great,” you nod, forcing a smile to your face, but it couldn’t be more fake.

Harry nods as he runs his tongue over his lips, looking around a little awkwardly now that it’s been discussed.

“Alright, then… good night, Y/N,” he nods in your way before heading towards the door.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble after him as he walks out and closes the door behind him.

As soon as you are on your own, you let out a shaky breath, falling to your bed, lips trembling as you try to even make out what you’re feeling. Because part of you is glad he didn’t make a fuss about it and you didn’t lose your job, that’s great news. But another part, which is vehemently bigger than the first one is upset and sad and… disappointed?

You were hoping it meant something for him, you wanted him to want it, to feel the same craving for you as you feel towards him, because you haven’t really stopped thinking about what his lips felt like against yours, what it was like when his fingers dug into your thigh, how it sent a shiver down your spine when his tongue met yours.

But this conversation just made it awfully clear that he wants nothing to do with you. And it hurts probably more than it should.

 Harry doesn’t get too far from your door when he feels the all too familiar pain in his chest he has been forced to live with these past over three years. It’s like something is gripping his heart and lungs in his chest so tight, even breathing is a hard task.

Rushing into his bedroom he closes the door behind him and slides down to the floor as the tears flood from his eyes. The past twenty-four hours have been rough on him, the guilt has been growing immensely since he let himself slip and give in for his desires and eventually kiss you.

It’s not that he didn’t want it. Because he’d be lying if he said it meant nothing to him and that he hasn’t been craving it these past weeks.

But his guilt, this evil little voice in the back of his head wouldn’t let him enjoy it even the slightest.

How dare you kiss another woman after your wife? Are you insane? You don’t deserve to feel this way with anyone else. Not when you were the reason your wife ended up dead!

Heartbreaking sobs escape from his chest as he pushes himself up from the floor and heads into the bathroom. He strips out of his clothes leaving them all in a pile on the marble tiled floor before he steps into the shower and lets the hot water pour down on him, almost burning his skin, but he doesn’t change the temperature, as if he was trying to punish himself. His salty tears mix with the water as he stands still, chest heaving as his vivid memories from that night come crashing down on him all at once.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment now? Really?” Harry sighed at his wife when she failed to answer his question about the whereabouts of his sweatpants. Maggie sat on the bed with the recent maternity book she’d been reading these past days, not even paying her husband a look at his question.

“Mags, for fuck’s sake, I’m not in the mood to play this game right now,” Harry sighed in defeat. Maggie looked up at him, closed the book slowly and put it aside to the bedside table.

“So the question of expanding our family is just a game to you?” she asked calmly, but her anger and disappointment in her husband was soaking through her tone.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“No, you are not talking about anything, because you refuse to have a fucking conversation with me!” she retorted, letting all her bottled up anger out that’d been boiling inside her.

“I already told you that I can’t think about having another baby right now. Izzy is only six, I’m in the middle of a huge project, I don’t have the capacity to think about having another baby, Maggie. I thought I made it clear, why are you still onto me then?”

“Because it’s not something we can put aside for too long! I don’t want to have another baby when I’m in my mid-thirties, but if we go with your plan, we won’t even have another one!” Maggie jumped to her feet, pacing the floor back and forth next to their bed as Harry stood with his hands on his hips, getting irritated that they were fighting over the same thing again.

“I never said we can’t have another baby, but why can’t we wait a little? When Izzy is older and more independent? Do you have any idea how hard it is to take care of a baby and a toddler? It’s a fucking nightmare!” Harry growled rolling his eyes.

“So our family is just a pain in the ass for you?” Maggie questioned, folding her arms on her chest and she was really getting on Harry’s nerves, twisting his words completely.

“That’s not what I said!” he snapped. “All I’m asking for is you to be a little patient and give me some time!”

“I don’t have time, Harry! I want it as soon as possible!”

“Why are you so fucking difficult?” Harry groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Why can’t you wait just… one year at least? Is that too much to ask?”

“And is it too much to ask to focus on your family? We are supposed to come first!” she turned it back around and Harry was not having the dirty games she was playing, putting all the blame on him when she could have been a little more understanding as well. He was feeling like his opinion was put aside and didn’t matter at all.

“You do come first, you don’t have the right to question that.” Harry pointed at Maggie, his blood practically boiling at this point.

“Then why do I feel like work is always more important to you?”

“What are you talking about? You know I’m home as much as I can, but we still need the fucking money, Maggie! Or how do you plan on paying the bills of this fucking mansion?!”

“I don’t need a mansion! I just need my family and that’s all!” she argued, but Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“Well you seem to enjoy this mansion a lot when you sit by the pool and watch movies in the fucking movie theater in your own home!” he snapped back feistily. “Stop acting like I don’t do shit for our family when I work my ass off to provide the best possible life. And all I’m asking for in return is some fucking time before we bring another baby into the picture!”

“You are so fucking unbelievable,” Maggie shook her head as she marched past him, walking away from the fight that just grinded his gears even more.

Just as Harry was about to go after her, he heard the faint crying through the baby monitor. Groaning he headed into Izzy’s room and as he took her out of her crib, he heard the front door open and shut.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” he cooed, hugging the crying little girl to his chest who clung onto him immediately. Even at such a young age, Izzy was already a daddy’s little girl.

Soon her cries died down to just little hiccups as Harry soothed her, patting her bum and back gently as he moved around the room. Holding Izzy in one arm he grabbed his phone with his free hand and typed a message to his wife.

Harry: Where did you go?!

Maggie: I’m going over to my sister’s. Don’t wait up, might get home late.

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She called him out for running away from the conversation, but when they were finally talking about it she just decided to disappear when it didn’t head in the direction she wanted, seeking comfort at her sister, as always.

He managed to lull Izzy back to sleep, putting her back to her crib before going back to the bedroom. As time passed by and he calmed down more and more he wished Maggie was home so they could talk about it without jumping at each other’s throat. There had to be a compromising way to solve the situation that would be fine for the both of them.

Harry: Please come home and let’s talk about it.

Maggie: So you can bite my head off again?!

Harry: Mags, please. You have to understand my point of view too!

Maggie: I understand it, but I don’t agree with it. And you don’t seem to understand mine…

Harry: I do, but there are more things to consider. Please come home, I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone!

Maggie: Okay, I’m heading home now.

Harry put his phone down to the nightstand with a long sigh, already tired from everything that happened that day and he knew this conversation would be a hard one too, but they needed to be on the same page when it came to their family.

It was late getting late and Harry grew a little more restless with each passing moment. Paisley, Maggie’s sister lived about thirty minutes away from them and it’d been forty minutes since she sent her last text. At first he figured she maybe stayed and talked for a little longer with Paisley, or stopped for some fast food which he knew she liked so much whenever she was upset, but when an entire hour passed by he was getting worried.

He kept sending her texts that didn’t even get delivered and when he tried to call it went straight to her voicemail. Harry was losing his shit so he decided to call Paisley to see if she knew anything about her.

“She hasn’t arrived home yet?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“No, and she is not answering my calls and texts. When did she leave from yours?”

“A long time ago. Almost right away when you texted her to go home.”

“Fuck,” Harry breathed out, anxiously pacing the floor as he held the phone to his ear. “Okay, can you please call your parents in case she went there for whatever reason? I’ll try her friends.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me know if you got a hold of her,” Paisley told him before they ended the call.

Harry was scrolling through his contacts, trying to decide who Maggie would go to first in this situation and just as he was about to call the first person, his phone started ringing with an unknown number.

“Hello?” he answered the call unsurely, his heart beating fast in his chest as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Harry Styles?” a male voice asked on the other end.

“Yes, it’s me. Who am I speaking to?”

“I’m Officer Field speaking. You were listed as the emergency contact for your wife, Margaret Linn Styles.”

Blood rushed out of Harry’s face faster than he could even process what was happening. He stood completely frozen, his hands were getting clammy as he started sweating as if he just ran the marathon.

“What happened?” he asked weakly, barely even finding his own voice.

“Mr. Styles, I have bad news…”

Harry makes his way down to the entertainment room, walking like a zombie, only thinking about the bottle of vodka that sits in the minibar down there. Following his skin burning shower he tried to go to bed, but his head was starting to spin from everything that’s been swirling in his mind and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it if he didn’t numb himself somehow. Unfortunately, his only way of doing it has been drinking, nothing seemed to help him the way alcohol did and though he knew he should never solve any of his problems with drinking, he still couldn’t help himself sometimes. When the pain was growing immensely, taking over his whole body, he chose the easiest way to get rid of the guilt or at least stop himself from… feeling.

Grabbing the bottle from the mini fridge he snatches himself a glass as well, not drinking straight from the bottle at least, and plopping himself down to the couch he pours a generous glass, drinking it without any chaser.

He winces as the alcohol burns down his throat, but at least it’s a different kind of pain, that takes the focus away from the one he is feeling in his chest.

One glass chases the other and since he is not particularly used to the heavy drinking, he is more like the ‘let’s nurse this pint for an hour’ type of guy, the raw vodka kicks in pretty quickly.

 But he is not the only one who can’t fall asleep tonight.

You tried everything in your power to end your misery and finally fall asleep, but your mind and body was plotting against you and made you toss and turn until you couldn’t take it any longer. Making a good cup of tea seemed like a good idea, so you headed down the kitchen.

As you round the corner after the stairs and you’re about to walk into the kitchen, you notice how the lights are on down in the entertainment room. You stop in your tracks and try to think back if anyone was there before you went upstairs, but you don’t think it was the case.

You figure since there are only two adults living in the house, it must be Harry down there and right now, facing him doesn’t sound like a good idea, so you decide to leave him be, but that’s when you hear the voice of some kind of glass breaking, followed by a heavy accented cursing and it changes your mind right away.

“Harry?” you softly call out as you walk down the stairs, not sure what to expect down there. He is crouching down, his back in your direction as he is trying to get the pieces of the broken glass up from the floor, but he is too disoriented to succeed in the task and it’s obvious that an injury is deemed to happen sooner or later.

“Harry, you’re gonna cut yourself!” you warn him, and walking over to him you pull him up from his squatting position and when he looks at you is when you realize that he is drunk out of his mind.

“Y/N, oh shit, did I—Did I wake you up?” he slurs, knitting his eyebrows together as he tries to focus his vision on you.

“You didn’t, but let me just—Why don’t you sit down for a moment while I clean this up, huh?” you suggest, pulling him towards the couch, making him sit. He falls to the cushion like dead weight, letting out a tired sigh while you rush to get a broom and a dustpan to get rid of the broken glass on the floor as fast as possible before someone cuts themselves.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out closing his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll just clean it up quickly,” you assure him, getting down to business.

“Not about the g-glass. Well, about that as well…”

“Then why are you sorry?” you ask, as you sweep the shards onto the dustpan and throw them into the closest trashcan.

“About being… a pain in the ass,” he hiccups.

“You are not a pain in the ass,” you chuckle softly as you sit beside him.

“I am. I fucked things up,” he nods with a painful expression all over his handsome face.

“What do you mean?” You know you shouldn’t make him talk in this state, but you can’t help your curiosity. It seems like drunkenness makes his tongue run wild and you are desperate for the tiniest crumble of information about what’s going on in his head.

“I just… I kissed you,” he breathes out, his eyes popping open, but he is staring at the ceiling, not you.

“And?” you ask, trying to act cool, though your pulse is rapidly increasing.

“And I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh.” You lick your lips and try not to show how much that hurt. But even drunk, Harry notices the disappointment in your tone. His glassy eyes snap over to you and his face falls right away.

“That’s not how I mean it!” he gasps, reaching for your hand and you’re surprised by the sudden physical touch, but it feels kind of nice, so you let him hold your hand between his arm palms. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it, because fucking hell, it was amazing!” he bluntly tells you and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Then why did you tell me all of that in my room just earlier now?”

Harry pulls his hands back and moves his arms across his face, covering his eyes as he slides down the couch, his legs spreading out in front of him. He lets out a shaky whimper and seeing him like this worries you a lot. Harry is always in control, he has never let him fall apart like this before.

“Because… I don’t deserve to feel this way,” he confesses, confusing you even more. What is he talking about?

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He shakes his head under his arms, biting into his bottom lip as he inhales deeply, like he is trying to keep something inside, something you shouldn’t know about, but now you are desperate to find it out.

“I’m a fucking mess,” he breathes out, letting his arms fall to his sides, but he keeps his eyes closed, shutting you out in a way. “I don’t deserve to have these feelings,” he repeats again and it appears he is more likely talking to himself, rather than to you.

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you, because if I did, you’d never be able to look at me again.”

Now he is crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks and his lips are trembling and you’ve never seen him in such a vulnerable state and quite frankly, it scares you. You knew him to be a strong and stable man, but now he resembles a frightened little boy, so lost in this big world.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not that bad, Harry.”

“It is,” he winces, as if it’s causing him physical pain to even talk about it.

“Harry…” You breathe out and moving closer you place a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He turns to face you, his eyes all watered and glistening, he looks so heartbroken, it almost pains you as well.

“Promise me you won’t see me as a monster,” he whispers.

“I-I promise,” you nod, already bearing yourself for the worst, judging from the look on his face.

Taking a deep breath he looks around, as if he is making sure no one else is listening. Then his eyes fall down to his hands in his lap, he fidgets with his fingers, his tongue running along his pink lips before he takes a deep breath and speaks up again.

“Maggie’s death… It was all my fault. I fucking… killed my own wife.”

His voice dies down at the end of the sentence, staring into the void, completely zoned out as you sit beside him, shocked at his words. This was not exactly what you were expecting him to say. Harry starts sobbing again, the hot tears running down his cheeks as he starts crying and panic sets in you. He is so out of his own world, you have no idea what’s happening to him. Rushing over to the mini fridge, you grab a water for him, thinking it might help him at least after all the alcohol he has consumed.

“Here, drink some water,” you softly tell him, taking the cap off as you hand him the bottle. He takes it with a shaky hand and raising it to his trembling lips he takes a few small sips. “Harry, what do you mean it was your fault?” you ask, knowing well you probably shouldn’t push it, but you can’t just ignore what he said.

“Exactly what I said,” he sobs shaking his head vigorously. “It was all my fault, I was a fucking coward and that’s why she died! I could have stopped her! I should have gone after her!”

He is not answering you, not entirely. He is speaking thoughts that have been planted in his head a long time ago and they seem to be on repeat whenever he is feeling down. As much as you want to get more details out of him, he needs to rest, especially because he is working in the morning.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed, H,” you tell him as you stand up and reach out for him to help him to his unsteady feet. It turns out to be a little harder than you expected, but you manage to get him up from his sitting position, and throwing one of his arms over your shoulders you start to walk him up towards his bedroom.

“You fucking hate me now, don’t you?” he slurs, his other hand reaching out towards the wall to steady himself a little more.

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

“But you think I’m a monster, right?”

“I’m not sure I know enough to think anything about you. This is a conversation we should have when you’re sober,” you suggest and he huffs.

“M’sorry for getting drunk in the middle of the night.”

“It’s alright. But I think you’ll have a mean headache in the morning,” you tease him as you finally reach the upstairs and head down the hallway towards his room.

“You’re a fucking angel, Y/N. You know that?” He just keeps talking and talking and you find it funny how different he is from his reserved and quiet self in this state.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You are. You are so good to my daughter and to me as well… I really don’t get why your fucker ex cheated on you,” he huffs and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. “What was his name? Kyle?”

“Keith,” you correct him.

“That fucker, Keith!” he spats making you laugh as you push his bedroom’s door open and walk him inside finally. “I bet he had a small dick.”

“Why does that matter,” you chuckle, making him sit on the edge of the bed.

“Because guys with small dicks are always out of touch with themselves. They think they are just better than everyone for some reason.”

“Do you have any scientific research to prove that?” you tease him as you push him down, tugging him under the covers, like a little kid.

“No, I just… know shit,” he sighs, his eyes falling closed the moment his head rests on the pillow.

“Alright. You can tell me more about what else you know when you’re sober. Now get some sleep, because you have work in the morning.”

You make sure he lies on his side as he hums his response. Reaching down you brush his messy curls out of his forehead as he breathes out harshly through his nose, probably about to fall asleep any moment.

Tapping on the screen of his phone on the nightstand you make sure that he has set up his alarm and you see the little alarm clock icon at the top bar so you are just about to walk out when you turn back around.

Seeing how he pushed so many things down inside of him, you’re not convinced he’ll be willing to give you the answers you are looking for. You’re afraid he might talk himself out and give you some kind of bullshit answer, so reaching for his phone you sneakily take his thumb and open the device, all whilst he doesn’t even move an inch.

Scrolling through his contacts you find Niall’s number and send it over to yourself before deleting the message so you leave no trail behind. You set the phone back to his nightstand and head out finally, going to bed as well, right after sending Niall a quick message.

Y/N: Hi! It’s Y/N, I got your number from Harry’s phone. Can you come by sometime tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something.

When you come down in the morning it’s pretty obvious that even though Harry had his alarm on, he snoozed one too many times and now he is in a rush, trying to get everything done and leave on time.

“Good morning,” you greet him and Izzy upon walking into the kitchen. Harry’s head snaps up from the half-made breakfast in front of him and judging by his expression, he more or less remembers what happened last night. “Rough morning?” you ask teasing him to ease the tension.

“Uh, yeah. Woke up a little late,” he nods, finishing up Izzy’s sandwich just the way she likes, without the crust on before handing it over to her. Izzy grabs the plate and marches over to the dining table, quietly munching on her food while Harry quickly tries to make himself a coffee, but he is a hot mess, still in his night clothes when he is supposed to leave in about ten minutes.

“I’ll make you the coffee, go and get changed,” you offer, taking over the machine.

“Oh, thank you,” he nods and for a change, he doesn’t try to argue with you, he just disappears upstairs.

You make his coffee just as he likes and leave it on the counter for him before joining Izzy at the table with your own breakfast. She is babbling about how excited she is for her piano lesson today, because she’s been practicing a lot lately. When Harry appears again he is dressed for work, but still looks a little disoriented.

“Hey,” you softly say as you join him in the kitchen.

“Hey, thank you for the coffee,” he nods, moving around the kitchen.

“No problem. How are you feeling?” you ask, hoping you’re not crossing any boundaries. Harry opens his mouth to answer, but then closes, probably not sure how much he should share, though he didn’t have too much problem with that last night.

“I’m… A little hangover, but I’m… fine,” he nods shortly. “Y/N, about last night, I—“

“We can talk about it later, okay? Don’t stress about it.” You give him a reassuring smile and you can tell he is sort of relieved he doesn’t have to have this conversation right in this moment.

“Thank you.”

“No worries. And I’ll clean up in the kitchen, don’t be late,” you smile at him warmly. You can tell he wants to protest, but he also knows he is running late so he doesn’t have much choice.

“Thank you, I’ll… see you later.”

Storming over to Izzy he presses a kiss to her forehead before grabbing all his stuff and leaving.

Niall texts you back not long after breakfast that he is free to drop by when Izzy is having her piano lesson. You carry on with the morning as usual, trying your best not to dwell on everything that happened last night.

Just as Rosaline and Izzy get settled for the lesson you hear a car pulling up outside and a few moments later the doorbell rings through the house.

“Let’s get one thing straight, is it a booty call?” Niall questions right away as you let him inside.

“It’s good to see you again,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“So no sex is gonna be involved?” he smirks and you know he is just teasing you.

“No, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, you can never disappoint me, darling,” he winks at you before walking into the kitchen to serve himself a drink. “So why did you need to see me so desperately?”

“Well, I know I shouldn’t be discussing this with you first, but I feel like I need to know some basic information that Harry might not give me so I thought you could help me out.” Niall nods as he pours himself some soda and joins you at the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to you. “I uhh—I need to ask how much Harry shared with you about… about me—and, um what—“

“Save the stuttering, I know you two kissed,” Niall cuts you off and you breathe out in relief that you don’t have to be the one breaking him the news.

“Oh, okay,” you nod with an awkward smile. “Yeah, so that happened. And last night he and I had this conversation how we should just keep our relationship professional and all that. We both went our own way but then later I found Harry down in the entertainment room, drunk and basically having a meltdown of some sort.”

“How drunk was he?” Niall asks, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Pretty drunk. He broke a glass and he was… crying and talking about a lot of stuff.” Niall takes your words in as he inhales deeply, just nodding for you to continue. “He started telling me how sorry he was for fucking things up and he was a mess, like a huge fucking mess. Then he told me about how he shouldn’t be feeling the way he does, because he doesn’t deserve it…”

“Jesus…” Niall shakes his head, probably already knowing where this is heading.

“And then he told me that his wife’s death was his fault. That was… pretty intense.”

“I can imagine.”

“I know I have to talk to him about it, but I’m really afraid he might shake it off, but it seems like he is having some serious issues and I wouldn’t want things to get out of hands. That’s why I thought I would talk to you, maybe you know what to do or how to approach him with such a sensitive subject.”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s nice of you for being so considerate,” Niall nods, scratching his chin. “Alright, I’ll tell you what I know, but please also let him tell you if he decides to share it with you.” You nod and turn all your attention to him. “I didn’t find this out until about two months after Maggie’s death, but apparently, the night she died they had a fight. Maggie had been nagging Harry to have another baby, but he wanted to wait a little longer, until Izzy is older so they don’t have two babies at the same time. Harry said they had another big fight about it, said some pretty nasty things to each other before Maggie just stormed out to go over to her sister’s. She made it there, but… never made it back home.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of how devastating it must have been, losing your partner after an intense fight without ever making up.

“Understandably, Harry completely lost his shit. For weeks he was barely functioning and we all knew he was grieving, but we didn’t know that he was blaming himself for what happened. When he wasn’t getting any better we somehow convinced him to go to therapy which luckily helped him immensely, but he stopped going a while ago. I thought he got things straight in his head about this whole Maggie situation, but I guess he is still hung up on that.”

“What about the drinking, did that happen a lot?”

“Not that I know of. I mean, yeah, he got wasted quite a few times, but only at the beginning. I don’t think you should be afraid that he might turn into an alcoholic. I think he is just really struggling right now because of the conflict he is having because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah, he is clearly very confused about his feelings for you and he has convinced himself he shouldn’t feel this way towards anyone ever, but then you came,” he chuckles softly giving you a knowing look.

“Niall, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you breathe out, worry and fear slowly taking over your judgment.

“First and foremost just… be patient with him, okay? This is genuinely the first time he has taken an interest in anyone since Maggie and I think he has already taken some big steps, which is a good sign. Try to talk to him and be open, but don’t push him. I know it can be really annoying when he keeps things, but let him tell you everything at his own pace.”

You nod, understanding the importance of not rushing Harry into anything. Just because you want to get over the awkwardness of the current situation, you can’t push him over his own boundaries.

“Okay, I’ll try to do that,” you nod taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Niall.”

“Oh, and don’t let him give you the ‘you work for me, we shouldn’t be doing this’ bullshit alright? He’ll try to make it out to be some kind of business, but it’s not. He needs to get himself out there and I genuinely think you’re the right person to help him with that.”

His words touch you and you’re not even sure how to react. Niall is clearly someone who stands close to Harry and if he thinks that you and him should give it a try, that must mean something. You can only hope that Harry will come around and think the same at one point.

Izzy gets a little fussy by the end of the day and it takes a lot of persuading to get her to bed in the evening. Harry arrived back home on his usual time and because it’s been such a hot day outside, he took her out to the pool. The problem with that is that Izzy never wants to get out of the water, so when Harry said it’s time for dinner she threw a bit of a tantrum as Harry brought her inside and her mood didn’t get any better later either.

You spent most of your night in the living room just watching TV and working on your laptop, updating your schedule for the upcoming weeks and doing some editing. Harry stays upstairs with Izzy for a long time when her bedtime comes and you figure she is still a little moody, but then you eventually hear his footsteps approaching. Harry pads his way into the living room and joins you on the couch. When you glance over at him you know he is trying to find a way to start the conversation you both know you need to have, so you put your laptop aside and turn your attention towards him.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about last night. I’m honestly so terribly ashamed you had to… see me like that,” he starts, clearly nervous to bring it all up.

“It’s fine, happens to everyone,” you assure him and it’s the genuine truth.

“It’s not a regular occurrence, really. I usually know my limits and try to stay within them. I’m really sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Harry, don’t worry about it,” you tell him again with a warm smile. “We can get past it. I think what we really should talk about is… what you said. Do you remember what we talked about?” you carefully ask.

“I do…” he nods, awkward diverting his eyes away from you. “I’m sorry I told you all that in that state, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to just pour it all on you so suddenly.”

“It’s alright.” “No, it’s not,” he protests shaking his head. “I dropped a bomb on you because I couldn’t deal with my own problems the right way, and it’s not okay. So please, just… accept my apology.”

“Okay, I accept it,” you nod.

“And about the whole thing with… What I told you about Maggie…”

“Just know that you don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. I’m happy to listen whenever you are ready to, but I’m not trying to push you.”

“I know and thank you for that, but I feel like… I owe you an explanation,” he admits and you nod, happy that he is willing to talk instead of closing himself off entirely. “The day Maggie died, we got into this huge fight and she ran off to her sister. It was… a whole mess, we both said things we clearly didn’t mean and I texted her, tried to get her to come home so we could talk things out. That’s when… she was on her way home when it happened and… I still feel like it was my fault.” His voice dies down at the end, just like it did last night when he was talking about her. It clearly left a deep scar on him that’s still not entirely healed and you can’t blame him.

“Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn’t, that it was just all one big coincidence, but all I can think about is that she would still be here if we didn’t get into the fight and I didn’t piss her off so much she felt the need to leave.”

“There was no way for you to see what would happen, Harry. It’s not like you did it on purpose, you had no power over the drunk driver or where Maggie chose to drive home. It really was a coincidence.”

“I know, I mean… I understand, but somehow, my mind keeps telling me that it was my fault.”

“Have you thought about… getting professional help?” you ask, trying to be polite and cautious on the topic.

“Actually, I just called my therapist today to see if… she can fit me in for some sessions,” he admits and you’re surprised at how great he is dealing with the matter. “I feel like I might need some guidance again, before things get out of my hands.”

“That’s great! It really is good to go a bit ahead of problems.”

“Yeah. About us…” he exhales nervously, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell this is the part that’s got him the most anxious. You take this as your queue to take over the conversation.

“Harry, I’m going to be honest with you,” you start and he nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “I… I have feelings for you. You haven’t been the only one making realizations,” you add with a soft chuckle, that brings a smile to his lips as well. “I know that the situation is not quite ideal, but it’s not impossible. But I just want you to be honest with me, do you have feelings for me?”

The conflict is clearer than daylight in his eyes as he is trying to figure out what to say and you really hope he isn’t gonna try to mask his feelings.

“I do,” he then admits and it’s like a giant rock has been lifted off your chest and shoulders. “It’s just… I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him. “Let’s just… take it slow. We’re not in a rush, we obviously have a lot to figure out and that’s completely fine. The pace is completely up to you, I know that you need to get a lot of things straight in your head and I can wait, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I really like where we are now and… I just hope that we can move this forward whenever you feel comfortable with it.”

Harry stares back at you for a moment like you’re some alien creature. Like what you just said wasn’t normal or even human and that’s quite heartbreaking, because somewhere along the way he managed to convince himself that he is not worthy of the most basic decency.

“I-I can’t ask you to wait around while I figure my shit out, that’s not—“

“You’re not asking me, Harry,” you smile at him softly. “This is my decision.”

His eyes are shifting between yours and he is most likely looking for any sign of doubt or qualm, but there’s none, you genuinely meant everything you said.

“So, where does this leave us?” he then asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“Everything goes on like it used to and… whenever you are ready to take a step, just… let me know.”

You can tell he is filled with questions, but he just nods with a weak smile and leaves it at that. This will be a bumpy ride, but at least you are more or less on the same page now.

You haven’t been a big fan of birthday celebrations. You just never understood the big fuss about it, throwing a party for surviving another year? Seems a little weird. This is why you never treated this day any different.

The morning starts off as usual, only that you wake up to a few texts from friends and family, wishing you a happy birthday. Your mom has sent you a whole damn paragraph about how you made her life complete and it wouldn’t be the same without you in it. She does that every time, gets a little too sentimental about it, but you guess it’s because it reminds her of getting old herself as well, which is a sensitive topic in her book these days.

It’s a Sunday, so a day off for you. Coming downstairs you find Izzy and Harry sitting at the dining table, already having their breakfast as usual, but when she sees you, she jumps in her seat in excitement.

“Good morning, Y/N!” she beams with a wide smile, buzzing more than she usually does.

“Morning, Sunshine. Slept well?” you ask as you pour yourself some cereal and join them at the table. Izzy nods and then peeks at her father as if she is trying to hide something with him from you.

“Daddy, can we do it now?” she asks in a whisper, but it’s not quiet enough for you to not hear it.

Your eyes lock with Harry’s over the table and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing around right away when you see the tiny smirk tugging on his lips.

It’s been almost an entire week since your conversation with him and things finally seem to get in place for now. Harry had his first session with his therapist on Wednesday and though you can tell he is still trying to find his own boundaries, he doesn’t worry as much about the situation as he probably did before. He isn’t walking on eggshells around you, unsure how to act. More or less it’s the same as it was before the kiss, but there are tiny little things that still make it different. Stolen glances, lingering touches and sweet smiles are making your days more colorful now and it’s gotten you all giddy and… happy.

“What are you two plotting, huh?” you ask, pointing at them with your spoon before digging into the cereal. Izzy glances at Harry one last time and when he nods shortly, she turns to you and throws her arms in the air.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” she cheers as Harry reaches over to the chair next to him and pulls up a box from under the table, handing it over to Izzy so she could give it to you. “This is for you!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything!” you gasp, truly surprised by the gift. You were not expecting it at all.

“It’s not a birthday without gifts!” she giggles excitedly as she hands the box over. You push your cereal bowl to the side and set the gift to the table in front of you. “Open it!” she urges you, her little hands curled into fists as she watches your every move, as if it was her who just got a present.

Your eyes meet Harry’s green ones over the table once more and he is watching you with a small smile, probably enjoying that he could surprise you.

You pull on the bow on the top and then carefully take the wrapping paper off until the box is revealed underneath and you gas as soon as you realize what this is.

“Oh my God!” you breathe out in disbelief as you take a better look at the gift. Harry didn’t just get you something, he actually listened to what you were saying and remembered that you’re a big fan of oldschool cameras and you have a special love for polaroids. And now, in front of you in the box is your very own polaroid camera, something you’ve been really wanting to buy for yourself for a long time, but you just never got around to actually do it.

“Do you like it? Daddy said you’d really like it!” Izzy asks with big eyes, watching your reaction.

“Oh, I love it!” you breathe out, feeling all mushy and melted from the gesture. Izzy climbs over to your lap, hugging your neck. You wrap your arms around her in a bone crushing hug and you’re so thankful for having them both in your life.

Izzy sits on your lap as you get the camera out of the box and figure out how to work it. She then hops off your lap and poses for the first ever picture taken with your new favorite camera.

“But it’s blank!” she furrows her eyebrows when the photo comes out.

“Because you have to wait for it to develop. It’ll show up in a few minutes,” you smile, setting the photo down on the table.

Izzy sits in her seat, excitedly waiting for the photo to develop and in the meanwhile you join Harry in the kitchen where he is washing the dishes. He spots you and turns the tap off, turning to face you as he dries his hands off.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” you tell him softly, but really feel touched by the gesture.

“No, but I wanted to. Do you really like it?”

“I love it!” you chuckle in disbelief. How could he think you wouldn’t like it?!

You move forward, aiming for a hug out of instinct but then stop yourself, not wanting to cross any boundaries, but Harry notices the motion and for your surprise, he wraps you in a warm hug on his own. You melt against his hard chest, your nose buried into his shoulder as your arms circle around his waist.

When you lean back, you both keep your arms around each other, eyes meeting and you realize just how close you are to each other. Without even knowing, your gaze flickers down to his lips and you’re dying to kiss him, to feel them again, but you don’t move, wanting to keep your word about letting him set the pace.

But what you didn’t expect is Harry leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. It’s so different from the last time, that was a hot mess, but this one… this is light as a feather but still makes your stomach somersault as you taste his lips, cupping his face in your hands.

“Daddy! I’m thirsty!” Izzy calls out from outside and it kind of ends the moment. Harry pulls back and when you look at him you see that his eyes are still closed. They flutter open a moment later, finding your gaze and you look for any kind of regret or fear in them, but they are nothing but shiny.

“Just a moment, baby!” he answers her, a small smile tugging on his lips as he leans down and pecks the corner of your mouth again before his hands fall from your waist. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he breathes out before grabbing a bottled water and heading back to Izzy.

You bring your fingertips to your tingling lips as you take a moment to really process what just happened and you can’t push down the smile that spreads across your face. Harry finally took the first step and now you can’t wait to see what’s coming next.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 3

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: After finding Sharon in Madripoor, you learn about the creator of the soldier serum (Based on S1 EP3)

(PART 1) (PART 2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,457

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3, violence, strong language.

Once you arrived at Sharon’s you were itching to get out of the costume Zemo cooked up for you. 

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.” Sam gawked at Sharon’s place which was full of art work and collectables. 

“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I’ll get for a real Monet?” Sharon shrugged as she lead you through her gallery. 

“Easy...Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.” Sam didn’t believe her as he stared at the artwork. 

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Zemo defended Sharon as he followed her.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky informed Sam. 

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” Sam pulled out his phone and started searching a nearby paining. 

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Bucky teased him for it. 

“No shit.” Sam muttered as the realisation hit him. 

“You guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon beckoned you along to which you were silently thankful for. 

Sharon was kind enough to let you look through her vast collection of clothes until you picked out something you liked. 

“Hey... You okay?” You asked softly. 

You and Bucky were alone with your backs to each other as you changed in one of Sharon’s many rooms.

“I’m fine.” Bucky replied quietly. 

You knew he wouldn’t be fine after having to act like the winter soldier again. You watched him at that bar. He didn’t hold back when he attacked those men. 

“Buck, you know you can’t lie to me.” You tried to keep it light but Bucky wasn’t having it. 

“I’m not.” 

You didn’t push.

“Hey, will you zip me up?” You asked after stepping into your dress. You didn’t turn but you could hear Bucky’s footsteps as he approached you. 

You felt the cold of his fingers brush against your back as he slowly zipped up the dress. 

You turned when the zip reached the top. 

“Thanks.” You whispered. 

Bucky’s eyes were burning through you as he admired your choice of dress. 

“You look beautiful.” Bucky murmured, his eyes taking in every detail. 

“You scrub up quite nicely yourself.” You smiled as you admired Bucky in the suit Sharon had given him. You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach as you thought about a possible normal circumstance Bucky could wear something like this. Like a date. 

“Come on.” Bucky took your hand and lead you to the door that would take you back to the others. 

“It’s alright. I’m gonna sort my hair out. Running through Low-town didn’t exactly do it any favours.” You retracted your hand and returned to the mirror. Bucky hesitated didn’t question you. 

“What’s going on with you and Bucky?” Sharon’s voice filled the room as you  heard the door open again. “Thought the two of you’d be together by now.”

“We’re coworkers. We’ve always been coworkers.” You were wary of Sharon’s new found attitude.

“Oh please. You two have wanted to jump each others bones the whole time I've known you.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you as she slump down on the love seat beside you.

You remained silent as you brushed through your hair. 

“Oh come on.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “You two have never?” 

“No.” You said almost too quickly. 

“Well it’s only a matter of time. I don’t know why you are dragging it out so long.” Sharon sighed dramatically as she picked at the fabric on the settee. 

“I don’t know why everyone is so invested in mine and Bucky’s relationship.” You spun around to face her. “You. Sam. Steve. You all poke and prod but you don’t take into consideration all the factors.”

“No you don’t take into consideration that there’s only so much time before one day you’re shot or killed or you have to go on the run and never see him again. You need to grow some balls, (y/n).” Sharon didn't bother sticking around after that. 

You groaned and closed your eyes. 

When you finally decided to rejoin the group, they were discussing Sharon’s status in Madripoor.

“What’s going on, Sharon? You don’t ever wanna come back home?” Sam asked as he put on a shirt. 

“They’ll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn’t allow extradition.” Sharon replied pretty matter-of-factly as she walked over to her desk. 

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but after the Blip and the chaos, I just––” Sharon cut Sam off before he could explain himself. 

“––Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy. 

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo felt the need to jump in. 

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked.

“Don’t get me started.”Bucky grumbled.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” Sharon smirked as she sat down beside Bucky.

“Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” Bucky said as he looked over at you.

“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” You took the initiative to change the topic back to the reason you were here in the first place. 

“You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety.”Sharon warned you as she shook her head. 

“We know it’s a risk, but we won’t leave until we find the one who cracked the code.” Sam took the chair beside Sharon as he spoke. 

“We got a name. Wilfred Nagel.” Bucky told her. 

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” Sharon informed you as she stood to pour herself a drink. 

“We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared.” Sam offered. 

“You haggling with my life?” Sharon smirked again.

“Not like that.” Sam shook his head. 

“I don’t buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name.” Sharon leant back against her bar. 

“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right. What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.” Sam approached her with his good old puppy dog eyes. 

“I heard that.” Bucky frowned, unimpressed by Sam’s use of example. 

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon sighed. 

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your name cleared.” Sam offered his hand. 

“Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I’ll see what I can find.” Sharon took the deal. 

The party seemed to suddenly start. 

Within minutes the whole place was jam packed. Music suffocated the space and the smell of sweat and alcohol was growing.

You stayed in between Sam and Bucky as you walked single file through the gathering. You reached back and linked fingers with Bucky’s to make sure you didn’t get parted in the crowd. 

As the bar came into view, you felt a hand grab your ass. 

“Hey!” Bucky took hold of the stranger and slammed him against the nearest wall. Holding him by the throat. 

Sam was there to diffuse the situation in a second. He placed a. hand on Bucky’s shoulder to pull him away. 

“Lay low remember.” Sam repeated what Sharon had told everyone over the blaring music. 

Bucky released the creep and stepped back. 

That gave you enough space to send your own punch. The man cried out, sliding down the wall and cradling his gushing nose. 

“Looks like she does not need help.” Zemo chimed in. 

You all left the guy without drawing too much attention to yourselves. 

The music wasn’t exactly your taste and you knew that it definitely wasn’t Bucky's but that didn’t stop you from taking him away from Sam and Zemo. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked you. 

“Got a bit boring just standing there, no?” You smirked. 

“You can’t expect me to dance to this, can you?” Bucky grimaced at the pulsing beat that classified as music. 

“You can try.” You smirked as you brought yourself closer to the man. 

You moved your body to the music, smiling widely him as he awkwardly tried to sway to it. 

“I thought you were a good dancer?!” You teased Bucky as you watched him. 

“I was!” Bucky defended himself. “When the music was Louis Armstrong and Glenn Miller!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the man before wrapping your arm around his neck. 

“You gotta move a bit more like this.” You tried to show him, taking his hand and placing it on your hip. 

Bucky was starting to look a little less like a grandpa as he got into the groove of it. 

His eyes were locked on you, a small smile on his lips. He looked undeniably handsome. 

“I think you’re getting it.” You leant up by his ear to tell him. 

“Well, we can’t look any worse than Zemo.” Bucky pointed through the crowd where Zemo was dancing. 

You burst into laughter at the sight of the war criminal dancing and buried your face into Bucky’s neck. Bucky laughed next to your ear. It was a rare genuine sound that sent tingles through your head. 

“Come on.. Let’s get some water.” You left the dance floor and rejoined Sam by the bar where he had started to speak to some other guests.

Sharon approached you a little while later with some good news and so you all immediately left the party. 

“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam stated as you arrived at the location of Nagel. 

“They know how to party.” Zemo agreed. 

You followed Sharon through the shipping container yard as she searched for the right one.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” Sharon stopped and pointed over to a red container. “All right. He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

“You want me to stick around out here with you in case you run into trouble?” You asked her as you all took an ear piece. 

“I’ll be alright. I’ll call if I need any back up.” Sharon dismissed your offer before walking away. 

You all entered the container cautiously before Sam contacted Sharon. 

“Hey, Sharon. You sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty.” He was right. To the eye, it was empty. 

“Positive. It has to be.” Sharon replied. 

You shared a look between Sam and Bucky as Zemo felt around the. back of the container. 

Suddenly, it shifted and a hidden door opened. 

Soft music played from below along with a muffled voice. 

It has to be Nagel. 

Sam, Bucky and you all went in armed. 

You silently negotiated between each other which urged Sam to go ahead and cut the music. Nagel spun around at the intrusion. 

“Dr. Nagel?” Sam inquired. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” The man wasn’t intimidating and didn't seem to have any weapons around him but you had learnt in the past not to underestimate your opponent.

“We know you created the super-soldier serum.” Sam informed him. 

“Get out of my lab.” Nagel demanded pretty boldly considering Sam was the one with the gun. 

“Hey! You know who he is, right?” Sam asked as he caught the shocked look on Nagel’s face at the sight of Bucky.  This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right? You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.”

“How about a counter proposal? Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”Nagel smirked. 

“Guys, we have company.” Sharon’s voice whispered through the ear piece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go.” 

“I’ll go up.” You lowered your gun from Nagel and went to turn when Sam stopped you. 

“No, we might need you.” Sam meant he might need your powers. 

“But...” You gestured to your ear. 

“She didn’t ask for back up.” Sam argued. 

You sighed but listened to Sam. 

Bucky moved Nagel over to a chair. He held his gun to the man’s temple. 

“Here’s your counter offer.” Bucky shot next to Nagel’s head which worked wonders to make him talk. 

“Okay. Okay. I was brought into HYDRA’s Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When HYDRA fell, I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system. After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do. But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.”

“How have we never heard about this?” You asked, your eyes flicking over at Sam. 

“Because… Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. Then when I returned, it was five years later, program had been abandoned, so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.” Nagel explained. 

“How many vials did you make?” Sam asked. 

“Twenty. Karli Morgenthau stole those, so I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.” 

“Where’s Karli now?”You stepped forward, rolling up your sleeve as a warning.

“I don’t know where she is. But a couple of days ago, she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.” You took a mental note of the name Nagel mentioned. 

“Well, what happened to her?” You pushed

“Not my pig. Not my farm.” Nagel shrugged. 

You looked back at Sam with a look asking if you should check if he's telling the truth but Sam shook his head. 

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky asked. 

Nagel sent Bucky a deep glare but Bucky’s gun brought forth the answer. 

“No.”

“Now what?” Bucky asked you and Sam. 

“Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” Sharon bursted in, looking a little battered. 

All of a sudden, Zemo pulled a gun out and shot Nagel. 

“No!” Sam cried out

You lunged forward and reached for the man’s arm. If you could catch his final moments of life leaving his body you could still get the memories but as you hand touched his skin all you saw was darkness. 

You screamed as you went blind. 

You felt a pair of hands pull you up from the ground to which you could only assume was Bucky. 

“What did you do?!” Sharon gasped at Zemo’s action. 

“I can’t see, Buck.” You felt your whole body go limp in his arms as you muttered those final words before you passed out. 

When you felt your eyes open again, you were out of the container. Gun shots were muffled in your eyes as you heard Bucky and Sam arguing. 

You were covered in dust and you didn’t have your gun. 

“Where’s my gun?” You asked. That’s when the boys realised you were awake. 

You only managed to crawl over to Bucky to take it from him and start to fire. 

Your aim was off from how exhausted you were but the adrenaline was there enough for you to get a good few shots in. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you as the firing stopped. Zemo was busy taking out the remaining bodies so it gave you time to sit back again. 

“Not really.” You shook your head. Your body felt cold and darkness still clouded the corners of your vision. It’s what happened when you tried to get the memories from a dead body, all you could see and feel is death. Your powers only worked on living people or people close to death. 

“Come on.” Bucky lifted you up, tucking his arm underneath you to keep you steady on your feet. 

You only lasted being half dragged/half running before Bucky picked you up. You hated being carried but this was a life or death situation. 

“Buck!” Sam shouted as some more bounty hunters appeared. Bucky put you down and you fell against the container door as he used a broken off pipe to fight them off. 

“Let’s go!” Sam tugged you both inside.

Bucky kicked open the back of the container so you could escape, only for you to be met by Zemo in a swanky getaway car. 

“Supercharged.” Zemo gestured to his ride. 

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told Zemo. 

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo asked. 

“He’s right. We need him.” You tried to speak but your throat was hoarse. 

“And there’s only three of us, and at least 20 of them.” Bucky added. 

“Fine. But if you try that shit again...” Sam warned him. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo stated. Not that he was to be trusted. 

Sam helped you into the back seat. There was concern painted across his face. 

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” Sharon sighed as she placed her hands on the car. 

“Come back to the States with us.” Sam tried to persuade her. 

“I can’t. Just get me that pardon you promised me.” Sharon reminded him of the deal they made. 

“Thanks for everything.” Sam nodded. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. 

You laughed weakly as you remembered the same conversation back when Steve was still around. 

Back on Zemo’s plane, you took a position on the small couch with Bucky. You were resting your eyes but trying to stay awake as you listened to the boys talk. 

“Donya Madani. She’s a refugee, yeah.” Sam had contacted Torres about the woman Nagel had mentioned. “Call me if you get a hit. --- Thanks, Torres.”

“You okay?” Bucky asked Sam as Sam slouched down.  

“Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through. And Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. Just makes me wonder how many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”

“Well, it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.” Bucky looked up from cleaning his hand. 

“Yeah, I get that. All right. Maybe I made a mistake.” Sam confessed. 

“You did.” Bucky agreed with that statement and so did you but you kept your eyes closed. 

“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should have destroyed it.” Sam didn’t say what you expected. 

“Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from him myself.” Bucky turned to face Sam as he spoke. You felt the couch shift.

Sam then got a call with the information on Madani. 

“They found Madani… Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go. I, for one, am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.” Zemo’s voice was the last thing you remembered before waking up at landing. 

“Hey sleepy head.” Bucky whispered quietly. He’d rather be caught dead than let Sam hear him say that. 

“Have we landed?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes. 

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “Come on.” 

It didn’t take too long to get to Zemo’s place but when you did, Bucky decided to break away. 

“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky announced before you entered the building. 

“You good?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded as he stepped away. 

“Be careful.” You warned him. 

You knew Bucky needed his space sometime but now wasn’t the best time for him to just be wandering the streets. Especially if Walker clocks on it was you three that broke Zemo out of prison. 

“Always.” Bucky winked at you before finally leaving. 

But that was a bad feeling in your gut. 

(PART 4)

Bucky Barnes Tag List

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16@shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch@thefandomimagines @mydarkness-itsnotmyfriend @sad-huffle-nerd @glitchingghosts @themaddies-obx @avenging-parker @delilahsdaydream​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @purplewcrld​ @opheliaaaa​

[supersizemeplz]

Spend the Night

Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader

Another #supersizedfic short. Ok, so right off the back I wanna say that towards the end it gets explicit. Since I started writing a lot of fluff, I feel so vulgar when I actually write something steamy. I was contemplating on whether or not to post it here but I thought why not. When I say this has been sitting in my drafts forever, I am not exaggerating. I didn’t know exactly what to do with it so I’m just putting it out to be seen. So I hope you enjoy!

The chattering of characters played on the television screen, once amusing to the couple that rested on the earth toned sofa but now was nothing more than background noise as they conversed. It's sound was low in an attempt to not overwhelm them both, becoming aided with the captions on the screen if they happened to want to know what was going on in the movie. Its light spread out to at least a few feet behind the couch where the light over the recently cleaned kitchen island picked up its slack.

This wasn't your first time over his place but you never paid attention to the details. The house was honestly one of the best decorated homes you'd seen other than those from HGTV. You made sure not add those exact words to the compliment to hide your small addiction to the channel. Especially when you could name the patterns of the tile and back splash of his kitchen, then he'd definitely know that you were a homebody. After a half an hour phone call with Erik hours before on your lunch break, he'd persuaded you to spend the night at his place. Easily done since you were already planning to stop by after a few quick errands. He'd promised you to a homemade dinner, Netflix movies, your favorite wine, and a foot rub.

"Shutupp. I do not.." You chuckled at the joke Erik made, reaching forward to smack his arm as best as you could. Being sure not to waste any of the wine that you still had left in your glass. He smirked as he focused back on massaging your left foot, making sure to massage deep to relieve the tension. You relaxed back against the sofa after taking a sip of your wine with a happy sigh. "You cook like a master chef and have the hands of a God. I might have to keep you around Stevens."

He laughed at that, stopping his foot massage for a moment to cover his mouth as to soften his boom of laughter.  You stifled a chuckle as he pretended to look hurt. "You might? I see how you really feel." Taking your foot gently, he moved it off of him to the floor. You sat your glass on the table beside you and leaned forward to catch his face, laughing as you seen him trying to stay serious.

"Awww, you know I'm just playing." You cooed as you pressed kisses to his cheek. "..my sensitive baby." He allowed the kisses, giving away his small smile from his dimples deepening. Turning his head to catch your lips in a few kisses, he ended the string of kisses with a deeper one. You hummed in the kiss as he placed a hand on your backside. Gripping the soft cushion just enough to get you stimulated before it was over. You sat there for a moment before opening your eyes and watching him get up from the couch.

"You done with this glass, babe?" He asked, grabbing his own glass before looking to you. You nodded, mumbling a soft 'yeah, I am'. He took the glasses and half empty bottle to the kitchen as he continued his conversation with you. You looked to him, admiring the way his shirt allowed you the sight of his back with small movements and the peek of skin once he reached up to place the glasses in the cabinet.

Standing from the softness of the couch, you adjusted your shirt and followed his faintly scented trail into the kitchen. He always smelled amazing. You hummed your acknowledgement as he spoke on some random topic, still in a bit of a daze from the kiss moments ago. Your arms slid around his body as he chuckled. "And you say I be all up under you." You grinned at his response, shrugging.

"And? You know you love me hugging on you, Stevens. Don't think those dimples of yours don't give away your little smiles." Releasing your grip, you headed off to the bedroom. Sending him a teasing look over your shoulder before you disappeared into the hallway. "Don't keep me waiting.."

Once you made it into the bedroom, you made your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Moments passed before Erik was doing the same, meeting you at the double sink to brush his teeth as well. Now shirtless with his sweats hanging just enough to catch the waistband of his briefs. His chuckling caught your attention and broke your admiration of him in the reflection of the mirror. Finishing up with brushing your teeth and washing your hands, you playfully rolled your eyes and left him to finish his nightly routine.

It felt like he was taking forever to come to bed. Doing that lengthy ass routine he'd done numerous times over the many times you both would facetime as you got ready for bed. You had slipped from the shirt and short set that had only been worn for a few hours, still catching the scent of perfume you dashed on to work like a pheromone. The soft fabrics hit the floor and you adjusted the lace, skin toned underwear that was left. Smoothing your hair down, you looked to the bathroom door as he switched off the light.

Silence. It filled the bedroom and swarmed around the both of you as you stood in front of the bed. The lamp that sat in the corner of the room illuminated your silhouette just enough for him to see the look you gave him. He grinned at your surprise, catching the slight nervousness in your body as he stepped closer. A hum of appreciation left him as he took his time to make it to you. Why in the hell did this man have you feeling like this was your first time? Maybe because it was with him.

Weeks of being wined and dined, fun little outings, nights on the phone, and building sexual tension came to this moment. He'd been a gentleman the whole time. Never pushing the matter on you and waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. And oh how you've wanted him. The thoughts had crossed your mind as well as a few wet dreams that you wouldn't dare let him find out about. Tonight, you decided you were tired of waiting and enduring the sweet torture of his charisma.

He sent a chill over you as he spoke suddenly. "You don't understand what you do to me, do you?" His fingers held your chin, thumb gently massaging the soft skin. "So pretty and delicate.." The darkness of lust clouded his eyes as he gave a slow once over of you. Your eyes admired the soft curve of his full lips instead. He smiled at the fact, chuckling when he seen you take a deep breath.

"Hey.." He caught your attention, speaking softly. "Eyes up here." You finally caught his gaze and he hummed when you did so. Taking a small step closer, he smiled as he leaned to your lips. "I need those eyes to stay on me. You got me?" His lips ghosted yours and you relaxed under his touch.

You gave a small nod as you looked up to meet his eyes. The touch of his fingertips felt like small sparks as they moved across your skin. Hooking beneath your bra strap and easing the band down your shoulder. "I want to hear that sweet voice of yours, baby.." You felt as he trailed them around you to unclasp the hooks at the back with ease. The fabric fell to the floor without a sound and he gave another satisfied hum. "Are you gonna be a good girl and keep those eyes on me?"

"Yes, baby.." You replied, allowing him to admire your lips this time. He gave a small smirk as he mumbled 'That's more like it, baby'. Your nipples were erect from both sexual and actual atmosphere. His thumb brushed over the sensitive bud and you bit your lip to suppress a moan, opting for a slow exhale. He looked to you and you seen a dimple to let you know he was toying with you. Seeing how long you could last with his slow burn.

You caught his lips suddenly, surprising him for only a second. He flowed with your slow kisses, smiling at the hunger in them. A moan slipped past your lips against his this time, fingers dancing at the waistband of his sweats. He chuckles at your lengthy nails attempting to work with the fabric. Taking over when you couldn't focus enough to get it.

"So eager.. Take it slow and tell me what you want me to do." He began to lower the sweats with ease before he slipped the soft cotton fabric from his legs. ".. that sexy ass voice you got and you really think you're not going to use it." A playful scoff followed the sentence before he licked his lips.

You looked to the bulge of his briefs before meeting his eyes again. "I want a taste.." The confession kind of surprised him though his face hadn't shown it. He watched you as you caught his gaze again, groaning when you gently palmed him. "May I?" You teased, using the moment to toy with him in return.

He didn't lose eye contact as you lowered before him. "I'm all yours.." The consent left his lips immediately. You hummed, pressing your lips against the fabric before massaging it. He exhaled as you did so. Your fingers finally caught at the waistband of his boxers to ease them down, and his length eagerly greeted you. That pulled a soft laugh from you.

"It's so pretty.." You mumbled the compliment, not focused on if he'd heard it or not. He groaned as you took your first taste of him. The warmth of your mouth made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes focused on your slow moments with fascination.

You closed your eyes, taking your time to work him up. He filled your mouth as much as he could before you eased him from your lips, hugging his tip. "Unh uh. What I say?" His hips pushed into your lips gently, enjoying the softness they provided. Opening your eyes, you look up to him as he wanted. He groaned softly as a smirk caught the corner of his lips. "There you go. Keep those eyes on me."

Your right hand left his thigh, lifting up to stroke him. "I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me?" You taunted, freeing your mouth for the moment. His lips parted once your tongue circled his fattened head, going back to work while slurping loudly for his enjoyment. The mumbles he spoke were barely audible over your pleasuring, but you made out some of the words and moan in agreement.

Releasing your lips from him with a pop, you look to his glistening dick. He hums as you stroke him again, trying his hardest not to move his hips in rhythm with you. "You're so fucking pretty.." The repeated confession gains your eye contact with him once again. And he reacts with another mumble of praise. He curses as you stare up at him with a smile. Your full lips all shiny and wet from saliva, matching the coat that covered him.

"Tell me again.." You tease with a sultry voice, seeing him chuckle at your cockiness. He tucks his bottom lip between teeth as amusement taints his features. And he repeats it a little louder. "Good boy." Rubbing him against your lips, you laugh as he weakens and leans forward slightly. The small words of praise caught him off guard, but he couldn't help his body reacting. He was losing dominance and didn't mind it.

"C'mere.." He stops you from your fun, gently standing you up. You squeal as he picks you up with ease. Resting you right above his hardened excitement. He grins as you hold onto his arms for support. "I want my pleasure to come from pleasing you.." Your body falls to the bed with a soft bounce. He rids himself of his underwear fully before he puts his attention on yours.

The light of the dim lamp catches his chain, glinting against his chest and bringing attention to his body. Reaching a hand out towards him, you ran your fingertips along his smooth, yet textured skin. Taking in the scars that he'd told you were a reminder of how far he'd came from unlearning his old ways. You moan as he bends down to press kisses to your tummy, showing it the love it deserved. The kisses becoming sloppier as they continued their way lower.

He hummed as he lifted your thighs, opening them enough to kiss their inner parts. His soft lips left tingles that felt they were going straight to your love button. "She's ready for me, huh?" The light stroke of his finger made you shift your hips closer, resulting in his chuckle. Both of your thighs were placed onto his shoulders and he began his delicate foreplay. Pulling a moan from before your hands found his dreads.

He licked his lips as he admired your body. "Let's see if I can get you to spend the night more often."

__________________

Taglist

@sisterwifeudaku @kumkaniudaku @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @chaneajoyyy @wakanda-inspired @princesskillmonger @liviy00 @xsweetdellzx @muse-of-mbaku @killmongerdispussy @thehomierobbstark @princessstevens @killmongerthiskoochie @cecereads209 @beautifullmelodyxx @soufcakmistress @melodyofmbaku @awerkofart

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (4/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.6k words

Warning: 18+ (discussion of assault, nervous breakdown, anxiety attack, just don’t read this whole series if you are a kid)

You woke up to a night of dreamless sleep like you always did, but then the events of the previous night hit you. You wished it was a dream, but one look in the mirror and a bruise running along your cheek was enough to confirm. Not only that, but you remembered asking your boss to stay over, but you didn't expect him to. The blanket on your living room’s couch and the bowl of fruits and a glass of juice situated out for you on the kitchen counter proved that he did stay.

And then the reality sunk in, you have a decision to make. You can either go to the cops or let that guy get away. The latter sounded not so great, but you knew going to the cops isn't going to be great either. You've seen enough detective shows to know that. You've had enough, and you just wanted to forget it. 

What did Mr. Barnes mean when he said you were going to talk about this? Are you supposed to visit him before work? Is he going to come to your place?

You decided to work on your book but ended up not being able to concentrate, so you started watching a show and fell asleep while watching it. Maybe some Chinese take-out could make you feel better. It didn't. Nothing made you feel better. You wished you had some friends in this new town because you didn't want to burden your work friends. 

After a horrible day of trying to cope, when you finally made your way to the club, you noticed the security was increased. Usually, security guards weren't present inside the club, but today it was different. Everyone was so vigilant and you felt a little safer. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Mr. Barnes did it for you, but again he would have done the same thing for any other employee. 

"Boss wants to see you," Pietro told you. You were about to head for Clint's office when the blond twin spoke again and pointed his finger towards the stairs." The boss."

Okay, well maybe playing naïve couldn't avoid this meeting, so you slowly walked upstairs. How bad could this go, it's not like he saw you in your most vulnerable state? Oh, wait, he did. 

You knocked on his office door, wanting to rip the band-aid and get over with it. 

"Hey," you said, faking a smile. "Thanks for getting me home last night and for breakfast today. I didn't even know I had fruits and juice at home because let's be honest, I'm a toast and coffee kinda gal."

Mr. Barnes didn't say anything, he just looked at you as if you were a confusing puzzle that he couldn't solve. He raised a hand towards the seat in front of him and you took it, nervously fiddling with your fingers under the table.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he asked, it wasn't a question, it was merely an observation.

“What?”

“Deflecting a serious issue by using a joke.” Mr. Barnes observed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you? My therapist?”

He arched an eyebrow, indicating that you were literally doing the thing he pointed out. 

"Yeah, well, it's called having a healthy coping mechanism. You should try getting one, brooding is only gonna help you this far."

 "It's not healthy if you're not dealing with it," Mr. Barnes pointed out. 

You scoffed in incredulity and you felt very, very attacked. 

What is it? Attacking y/n day?, you thought. 

"Anyway, I think I want to press charges," You changed the subject to a more serious conversation to avoid him calling you out on your bullshit. 

"Okay, I understand.” 

“You do?” You asked, bewilderment clearly written all over your face. “I mean, letting an employee go to the cops is not gonna be great for your club's reputation and yours too. And, you know, considering the shady business, you do-” 

"What exactly do you think we do?" He asked.

And that's when it hit you, you didn't know what he did or mob bosses do in general. All your knowledge about it came from movies and Wattpad, both of them are not a great place to gain knowledge.

“What exactly do you do?” you pondered.

 He obviously wasn't expecting you to directly ask him, nobody has directly asked him or even made it known that they are aware of his work. It was kind of like a silent pact that everybody signed for, everybody except you, apparently. 

“Um, you know, I've been working for almost 2 weeks here now, and I haven't seen any drugs around here, so it's obviously not drugs. You don't look like the sex trafficking types-”

 "Jesus, woman!" He exclaimed, offended by your assumptions. 

"Then just tell me what you do."

You expected him to tell you something, but he just kept looking at you with a face void of emotions.

 "Fine, don't tell me," you mumbled, raising your hands dramatically in defeat. 

“So you don't mind me ruining your reputation by going to the cops?” 

“I told you I don't care. Your safety is my utmost priority,” your face might have given away the surprise you felt because he quickly backpedaled. ”I mean, the safety of my employees.”

“The safety of my employees is my utmost priority,” he told you, providing an extra emphasis on the word employees. “Anyway, one of my people would take you to the police station near-"

You cut him off immediately. 

"No, you can't tell anyone else. I don't want everyone hopping on the pity train. I'm already ashamed that you know about it," you pleaded but your voice was firm, telling him that this was not up for a discussion.

At this, his eyes and features softened. Bucky didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed for somebody else's actions, but clearly, you did. 

"Okay, then I can take you. You just had to explain to the officer last night’s events, and they'll ask you to recognize Rumlow and then we can-"

Mr. Barnes’s voice faded into the background when it finally hit you.

"You know what, I changed my mind. It's too much. I don't want to press charges anymore. I didn't think this through," you backtracked. You did think this through, but now all the factors were adding up in your brain. You'd have to explain the details to a cop who is probably going to be another man and a stranger, and then they'd ask you to identify the guy. You didn't think you had it in you to face him. At least not now. 

He interpreted your thought process and promptly changed the topic. "Okay, we can work with whatever you want, and at least let Peter escort you home after work."

"What? No!” You quickly declined.

“It's for your own safety,” Bucky tried to reason. He wasn't letting you get off this easily.

 “I'm a strong, independent woman and I'm not scared of anything.” 

That was a lie. You were scared of many things like heights, dark, spiders, confrontation and the list goes on and on. 

You remembered all the lectures your mom gave you telling you that women should be scared because men are monsters, and you'd lose your honor if you are reckless and some other patriarchal crap that you didn't pay attention to. But you weren't scared, you were just always careful. You'd always put the keys between your knuckles when you went home alone. In your previous job, you used to laugh it off whenever your coworkers made a sexist joke. You'd ignore the subtle shoulder touch that your previous boss did. You told yourself that this is what it takes to make it. If you were to run away every time someone eyed you in a wrong way, then you'd spend your whole life running. 

Women usually shrug this behavior off as it is what is, but the truth is it shouldn't be like this.

“Please, I insist.” 

“I'm very capable of taking care of myself. Just because one bad incident happened doesn't mean I'll fucking break!” You stated, your voice louder than your regular voice to get across your point.

That was also a lie. You were walking on a thin line and you were ignoring your emotions. You were one outburst away from a breakdown, and you just couldn't bring yourself to feel anything. 

Mr. Barnes tried to call your name, but you were already bolting out of his office. 

You needed a drink. No, fuck that. You needed multiple drinks. It wasn't exactly wise to get drunk during work, but it couldn't get any shittier than this, right?, you thought.

Right?

 Wrong. It could get way shittier than this. Now it was almost midnight, you were kind of tipsy, and you could see two Mr. Stark, your regular customer, in front of you. 

Did he have a twin? Is he and his twin brother one of those identical twins that dress up the same? Because that's what it looked like.

 “Earth to y/n," Mr. Stark said, or was it his twin? It was getting hard to keep track anymore.

 And that's when you noticed. 

“Holy, Shit. You're triplets, Mr. Stark," you announced. 

"Okay, kid, close my tab.”

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” Peter asked, noticing the concerned look Mr. Stark gave him before leaving.

“Yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine.”

***

Turns out you were not fine. You've been pretty much hammered for the past week, and you could barely get a sentence out without giggling or slurring. Your colleagues took notice of your state and whenever someone pointed it out, you'd just shrug it off as a bad day or a bad week. There was no concept of time in your drunk state.

You couldn't concentrate on your book, you could barely look at someone without squinting, and you've been eating takeout and leftovers for the past few days. 

James would have fired if someone working under him was this irresponsible, but he knew your reasons. He knew you clearly weren't coping with the trauma well. Your work ethics were shoved down the trash that even Clint asked why you weren't fired yet.

Bucky didn't want to talk to you, he thought that maybe giving you some space would do you good, but clearly it wasn't working. Usually, the mob boss didn't interfere in the affairs of his employees, it was Clint's job, but when you smashed a bottle on the head of a customer, he had to interject.

“I TOLD THIS FUCKER NO!” you yelled, Peter’s hand around your middle from behind. Another empty beer bottle was in your hand, ready to be smashed across the face of the drunk dude in front of you.

Pietro and Wanda were enjoying the show. Peter, being the peace lover he is, held you back when you smashed a bottle across a drunk customer's face. Even though Peter was younger than you, he was stronger, and he was not only holding you back but also himself. He didn't want to cause a scene and that is why he was mulling comforting words in your ear like, he's not worth it, you're gonna kill this guy.

Damn right I am, you thought.

It was ironic because everyone in that club had killed someone except you.

When Bucky walked into the room, the drunk guy turned towards him and pointed at you. ”You are hiring crazy bitches now? Just called her baby girl and she went psycho!!!”

Bucky didn't understand what was happening. He told the security guards to take that man outside his club and he walked towards you. He firmly yet gently took a hold of your left arm, signaling Peter to let go of you. Without a word, he started walking in the direction of his office, dragging you along with him.

Once near his office, he lightly yanked your hand and shoved you inside, making you stand in front of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he inquired, having had enough of your incompetence.

You were seething with rage. "Wrong with me? I told him no, but he didn't listen."

Bucky stepped forward, his anger dissipating into sympathy. " I know, he mumbled, "and I'm so-"

 "No, you don't know!" you yelled, body trembling and tears welling up in your eyes. "I told him no multiple times, I even tried to push him off me, but he just kept coming back."

Bucky's eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand your words, the drunk customer didn't touch you. And that's when he realized, you weren't talking about the drunk customer. He cognized that the drunk guy purely triggered something that you've been suppressing for days now. Bucky was aware that you needed to get it out of your system to cope healthily.

“I told him no, you know? But he just wouldn't listen,” you stated, trying to convince yourself that you didn't lead him on. ”And he was so…. so strong and… and then he hit me and everything just went blur, I couldn't see but... but I could still feel him with me.”

Not realizing that you were not in that place anymore, you wrapped your hand around yourself to seek some sort of protection and comfort, bottom lip quivering, the welled up traitorous tears were streaming down your face and all you could think about was that night. 

“I… I can't get his touch out,” you stammered. ” I shower, multiple times a day, but I still can't get his touch out.”

With that, you broke down completely and shattered on the floor, sobbing ferociously. Your knees ached because of the position you were situated in, but the emotional pain was enough to overshadow the physical one.

For once in his lifetime, Bucky did not know what to do. Cautiously, he made his way towards you and knelt down in front of you. He did not know what to say or do to make you feel better.

You launched your body towards him, snaking your arms around his shoulder to settle on his neck as if he was the only thing grounding you. You lurched onto him like he was your anchor, and maybe he was. It took a minute for Bucky to register your actions, and when he did, he wrapped his arms around your middle and closed the minuscule distance separating you.

He surprised himself with the way one of his hands automatically reached for your hair and whispered words of comfort in your ear. He caught you as you crumpled physically and emotionally. 

”You're going to be okay, doll,” he whispered and kissed your temple with sincerity. ”I will make sure of that.”

The second part was barely audible, it wasn't meant for you, it was a promise he made to himself.

Bucky held you tightly yet gently while you sobbed on his shoulder.

 He didn't know how long he held you, it felt like an eternity to him with the way he could feel the guilt and rage inside him. When you passed out in his arms, he gently placed you on one of the comfortable couches in his office and draped a blanket around you that he had for when he would work late at night.

An office chair might not be the most ideal place to spend the night in, but it didn't matter to Bucky. All that mattered was you.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​  @rivers-rambles21​  @emmabarnes​@goodcleanfunsis​ @valsworldofcreativity​

[skellebonez]

The prompt you wrote with baby MK was extremely cute, but it also gave me an idea that wouldn't leave my brain: Imagine that same situation, but with Mei and Macaque. This is an open prompt, you can do with this whatever you like!

MK isn’t the only one who gets to have this kind of curse/ailment anymore! And I can’t resist putting this in the Cursed AU specifically, simply because I love the idea of this Macaque being confronted face first with the fact he actually cares. Even if it happens 200 times.

"What in the absolute hell are we supposed to do now?" Macaque groaned out, looking around the both of them for any indication of an escape that didn't involve him leaving Mei behind. Which was looking slimmer and slimmer if he didn’t want her to be in more physical danger than she already was. So. Stranded it was.

"I can still help!" Mei insisted, crossing her arms and standing her ground with a wide smirk. "I'm not powerless you know!"

"Never said you were, Jade," Macaque acknowledged instantly, tensing for a half moment when he realized how much he had to be attached to say something like that so fast. He forced himself to relax once again, no point in adding more fuel to the fire of worry that laid between them. "This just makes things complicated."

Oh yeah... complicated, that was one way to put it, definitely. If Macaque was being generous. And ignoring the fact that Mei wasn’t even 4 feet tall... and 4 years old. Physically.

Macaque was supposed to be on official mystic monkey business alone. Or at least that’s what he told Mei and MK to hopefully keep them out of his fur, but apparently Mei had other ideas. Like sneaking onto the private boat he had paid for to be taken to this secluded island far out into the ocean undetected, much farther than Mount Huaguo was. How she managed to sneak past security he may never know, now would he know how she managed to stay hidden for their 7 hour journey, and he would never admit that he was genuinely impressed.

He genuinely had not known she joined him until after the boat left, leaving them both stranded for at least the next 24 hours.

Horray.

Things had actually been going pretty ok, for the most part, after she had made herself known. In actuality Macaque was here to hunt down a specific item of his he had left behind on the island years ago, nothing really world shattering just... important to him. He knew that it would be safe here when he left it, the island as uninhabited and out of the way for humans to come to as it was.

But he also knew many powerful demons occasionally used this island as a hiding ground for when they were injured or planning something, against the owner’s wishes. And unfortunately one such demon just happened to be there on the one day of the while year he planned on coming.

That demon was deader than anything else on this island at the moment. Macaque hadn’t tried to kill him, not really, but they had lobbed something at him that Mei jumped in front of and he reacted on instinct.

If the thing had hit him in the first place they would probably be just fine. A decade and a half off his life span was nothing, unless it was set to a specific age in which... well, he was already able to do most of what he could do as a child so they still probably would have been ok. And hopefully she would be, if his memory served this particular demon was talented only in making temporary cursed and potions... mostly.

He hoped.

“Are you certain using your powers won’t hurt you?” Macaque asked, staring down at the short girl before him.

“I don’t think so?” Mei said with a shrug. “I mean, I’ve kinda had them for as long as I remember so... probably not.”

“Let’s not take that chance,” Macaque said with a sigh, looking around the beach. There was nothing for him to use, no emergency radio or boat. The best they had found on their entire search was a dinky little shelter. “It looks like our best bet would be to hunker down in that building and wait until mid day tomorrow for the boat to return. Provided there aren’t any more demons around we should be fine...”

“I can build a fire!” Mei proclaimed, running off before Macaque could even hope to catch her.

Something pulled in his chest, a protective thrum that he hadn’t felt since... since his journey with MK, but was becoming increasingly common the more time he spent training Mei. And he hadn’t felt that for so long he had forgotten what it felt like when it happened then, so unfamiliar with the desire to protect his old home and monkey friends of Mount Huaguo.

He would never admit even to himself that that feeling was “caring”. At least not yet.

“Jade, get back here!” Macaque yelled, moving to rush off after her before she came barreling back herself with armfuls of sticks and pine cones.

“I got everything we need!” She laughed and threw everything down in front of the building, looking around. “Did you see any rocks?”

“I know how to build a fire,” Macaque said softly, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “We probably don’t even need one.”

“Aw, but this is like a camping trip now!” Mei said, flailing her arms in the direction of the sticks. “I’ve even got marshmallows in my backpack!”

“Why did you bring m-never mind,” Macaque groaned, rubbing his face and sighing deeply. “OK. We’ll build a fire.”

~

It had gone better than hoped, actually. Macaque was able to start the fire with ease and Mei had apparently thought ahead enough that she’s brought the ingredients to make something called s’mores. Macaque had never seen them before, either they were new or they were a foreign treat, but MK had mentioned them to him on their journey and he had to admit... they were nice.

He just wished the gooey marshmallow didn’t stick to his fur so bad.

“And then MK did something that made the clone glow gold and explode into a bazillion pieces of hair!” Mei said, sweeping her arms out as she finisher her story. “And that’s how MK created and saved me from Porty Clone.”

“Sound like MK’s clones had quite the variety to them,” Macaque said with a smile. He’d relaxed over the evening, the normal sounds of the island confirming to him that it was just the two of them now and that at the very least they were safe from attack for the moment. “No wonder he’s careful not to overuse them.”

“Yeah, but Porty was pretty fun until he went overboard,” Mei replied, words cutting off with a yawn and a shiver as the wind picked up. “What time is it?”

Macaque looked up, watching the moon and the stars. “Late enough that it would be best to get some rest. We don’t want to miss the boat after all.”

“Hey, you only paid them half so they better come looking for you if you don’t show up!” She laughed out, making her way into the building as Macaque dumped sand on the fire to douse it. Just in case, don’t need the island catching fire with the wind. “ So uh... what are you going to tell them about... me?”

“That I came here looking for you,” he said plainly, shutting the door behind them. The moonlight shone through the windows of the shelter, giving them just enough light to see the one sad little cot it housed, right next to the massive stock of canned food they had also raided for dinner. He pulled the blanket on the cot back, grimacing at the dust on the blanket but satisfied with the condition of everything under it. He went outside to shake it out and make it usable again. “They know I was looking for something and that’s all they need to know.”

“What were you looking for anyway, Hot Topic?” Mei asked after a moment, watching Macaque make the bed again. “And how do you... know about this place?”

“... it’s mine, actually,” he said quietly, looking around the sad shelter. Unfurnished, cold and empty, with only the island itself and non-perishable food for survival. “I haven’t been back in a long time and most know to stay away, but sometimes demons don’t care. I was looking for something... unimportant.”

“It must have been important if you came all this way to find it,” Mei said, yawning again and rubbing her eyes.

“Ok, that’s enough of that!” Macaque exclaimed, hoping his glamor was hiding the embarrassed flush of his ears at her accusation. “Time for sleep!”

Without giving her a second to protest Macaque grabbed her around the waist with his tail and deposited her under the now clean enough blanket before forcibly tucking her in.

“Hey!” She protested, scowling at him once her arms were free. “I can’t sleep yet!”

“Why not?” Macaque chanced, wondering if he was going to regret this.

“You never told me a story.”

“... huh?”

“At the camp fire!” Mei insisted, leaning over the bed to grab her backpack and hold it to herself like it was a stuffed animal (which wasn’t hard since it was... basically a hollow stuffed dragon anyway). “I told you a bunch of stories about me and MK and Piggy and Tangy and Sandy and you didn’t tell me anything about you and the Monkey King! So spill one, I’m not going to sleep until you do!”

Macaque wanted to say no, wanted to glare at Mei until she just went to sleep through sheer exhaustion, wanted to walk out of the building and just stand guard at the door instead... but he kept looking into her teeny tiny 4 year old glower and he couldn’t help but sigh in defeat.

“Fine...” He said after a moment, moving to sit at the head of the bed. He watched as Mei smiled widely, making herself comfortable. “Let’s see... where should we begin... How about the time Wukong thought it would be a good idea to challenge the whole island to 1 on 1 combat for the title of king because he was bored, long before his proper training?”

“That sounds like him,” Mei said, smiling into her backpack with another yawn as she closed her eyes. “Yeah... tell that one.”

“OK, so this was only a little while after he jumped through the waterfall...”

And Macaque went on and on, giving much more detail than necessary, watching as Mei slowly relaxed until she eventually nodded off before the story even got close to the ending.

Which was... probably good for Macaque, to be honest.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the item he had come here to find. It was simple, all things considered. A little carved crown, made from wood and preserved carefully through the years, far too small for his head and more of a bracelet. Wukong had made it for him when their own duel, the final one of the whole island, ended in a draw all those centuries ago. A show of how they could, maybe, rule the mountain together one day. He’d left it here so long ago that he worried it would have been destroyed or fallen apart over time.

Apparently Wukong knew a little something about what he was doing back then after all.

Macaque smiled, slipping it back into his pocket as he slid off the bed to sit against it, all six ears fluttering out to listen to the island around them. Just in case.

Mei slept mostly soundly behind him and if she started to whine in the beginnings of a nightmare and he turned around to soothe her and whisper that he was there and she was alright well... that would be something to talk about if she remembered it.

[citowon]

spring troupe and gender neutral s/o watch horror movies

about time i finally write for this blog... i was hit with the image of masumi watching a horror movie with his s/o, thought how lovely it would be if there was content of that, then realized i have that power now

word count: 1,935

tags: established relationship, non-detailed mentions of horror themes (gore, monsters, etc)

sakuya sakuma

🌸 when the topic of a horror movie date first comes up, he’s a bit scared. he’s only seen a couple, one of which was for mankai play research.

🌸 when it’s actually showing, though, he’s pretty calm! the anticipation was the worst part, and he somehow doesn’t get scared even during the most terrifying movie of the year. he’s great at reminding himself it’s just fictional in the end

🌸 vampires? not scary. aliens? he thinks they’re cute! gore? well, yeah, it’s unnerving at first but it’s all fake, and once he reminds himself of that he’s fine

🌸 he gets scared at the littlest things though. there might be a continuity error where a knife is in its holder on the counter in one shot and then removed the next, and no one in the movie acknowledges it nor is it supposed to mean anything but he can and will psych himself out thinking about just what moved it

🌸 king of predicting plot twists! he might be very good at spotting continuity errors, but he’s even better at picking out little bits of foreshadowing and putting together the mystery

🌸 gets spooked the most by jumpscares. every time he squeaks a bit (on really bad ones he might scream) and every time he always does the same embarrassed sigh afterwards and goes to squeeze your hand to calm himself

🌸 psychological horror is definitely the best pick for sakuya. he thinks a lot about what’ll happen next in the movie and loves to discuss about movies with you regardless of the genre, so with thought-provoking psychological films it fits him like a glove

🌸 and hey, if things ever get too intense he loves b-list horror movies! he thinks the bad acting is endearing and always finds something to compliment even with the trashiest, corniest flick

🌸 if you ever get uncomfortable, he might commentate in the movie and try to poke fun at it- i mean, the killer clown is kind of funny! look how bright and colorful it is compared to the rest of the set! he keeps his voice light and sunny so you have something comforting to concentrate on

masumi usui

🎧 he loves the idea of horror night. cuddling with you, holding you protectively as the suspense rises, stealing kisses to distract you from the monster and erase your fear...

🎧 he’s only seen a few horror movies in his life, less than the fingers he has on one hand, but whatever. it’s a movie. it’s not real. if he got too immersed he could just tell himself it’s fake and be done with it.

🎧 spoiler alert: he didn’t.

🎧 masumi did not, and i repeat, did NOT expect to get so invested??? even if you’re scared, he’s definitely the most terrified

🎧 that’s not to say he’ll show it. he’s doing everything to keep a neutral face, and you’ll probably assume he’s holding to you tighter during the scary parts like he’s protecting you.

🎧 (it’s actually because you’re the one [1] thing grounding him. you’re protecting him, not the other way around! in hindsight, he likes being cared for even when he thought he’d be the one spoiling you, not the other way around. he just wishes it didn’t have to be during such a scary movie, that’s all)

🎧 will take his fear to the grave... unless you ask him directly about it. please hold him and tell him the monsters aren’t real, even though he’s a heavy sleeper he will stay up until 3 am, his mind reminding him how creepy the movie was every time he’s about to drift off

🎧 so does not fuck with ghosts, if he didn’t believe in them before he certainly does now. the poor guy looks up how to ward away spirits and ends up carrying around a salt packet on him for the next two weeks

tsuzuru minagi

📖 tsuzuru’s not exactly a horror fan. he claims it’s brainless and pointless

📖 (admittedly he’s a little scared of them, but he still thinks they’re dependent on shock alone, and have zero rewatch value since the writing is more focused on in-the-moment spooks than actual plot.)

📖 he’ll roll his eyes and tease you a little but eventually he’ll go along with watching a horror movie

📖 to psych himself out of his fear tsuzuru decides to watch them critically and note what plot points to do (or more likely not to do) for future plays

📖 this works out for the beginning but by the middle of the movie he’s enraptured. he can’t tell if it’s actually good or if it’s a car wreck he can’t help but watch

📖 does the corny move where he yawns and wraps an arm around you, and you’d almost buy it from his earlier cynicism but then the killer shows their face and he tenses up like hell and you just know

📖 gets embarrassed every time he’s scared- he even turns pink, and gets even redder if you try to hold his hand or cuddle him closer (even though there’s nothing he’d want more after something that creepy)

📖 by the end he’s got a few new ideas that might go to autumn or winter troupe’s latest plays, and admits okay, fine, maybe horror isn’t so pointless after all

itaru chigasaki

🎮 screw movies, you’re playing horror games instead!

🎮 most of itaru’s horror games are single-player, so one of you takes the controller while the other sits next to the player, but itaru’ll drape his arms around you from behind in a back hug the entire time you play

🎮 he doesn’t really shut up. the entire time, he’s either cracking a joke or trying to freak you out more, if only so he doesn’t get in his head and overthink the creepy atmosphere

🎮 asshole only quiets down when the game gets tense, and then suddenly puts his hands around your shoulders or neck to scare you. regardless if you fall for it or not, he always laughs at himself and just-so-happens to break the tension as a scary cutscene plays

🎮 still commentates when he’s the player, but gasps or jumps even at small atmospheric scares

🎮 itaru definitely overthinks the game. he gets super cautious over tiny details and makes the missions way harder than they should be since he keeps overestimating the enemy line of sight and how noisy the avatar is

🎮 if you happen to be playing a co-op horror it’s a constant “no u” battle over who should do the scariest tasks

🎮 “reader, we need to cleanse the room next. you should do it” “no, you should do it. you have the quartz item remember” “i can give it to you since you have the ghost ward” “the ghost ward doesn’t apply to this quest, besides, you’re better at this ghost attack quick time event than me” “no it does, and you’re more optimized” “i can just give the items to you-“ “no you should do it” “no you” “no you” “no you” “no y-”

🎮 you both lose

citron

🍋 citron loves horror movies! he thinks they’re... comforting?

🍋 turns out he’s only seen movies about cursed dolls and b-horror, which explains a lot- he loves dolls too much to be scared by them and he thinks b-list horror is hilarious- but he’ll still proudly proclaim he’s unflappable and swear to protect you from the bad guys

🍋 when you’re actually watching the movie you can’t tell if he’s faking his reactions or not. he’s very noisy

🍋 he gets scared enough during the gruesome and horrific scenes to hold you close and tight like a teddy bear, and during the worst of it he might muffle a scream by diving into the crook of your neck, obscuring his vision until the scene changes

🍋 and yet, he laughs at the next scene’s unrealism, and manages to poke enough fun at the movie that you giggle and his terror disappears, he loves your laugh way more than he can be afraid of monsters

🍋 can’t do gore for the life of him, but when it comes to the actual plot, he’s rather critical of characters acting dumb. he catches on to nonsensical writing quick, but usually asks you to clarify the plot holes before realizing that he found a loophole in the writing

🍋 whenever you’re scared and not even his goofy reactions and commentary can help, he plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, strokes your hair, and holds you close to his chest until the fear goes away. he’s surprisingly good at protecting you from the movie

🍋 after the movie he’ll say his country has a similar legend to the movie monsters, but he claims the legends are true in zafra, and zafrans have a very specific tradition to prevent the monsters from attacking them

🍋 the movie also gave citron the idea of creepily standing behind you silently until you turn around and get startled, or occasionally chanting in a strange, cultish language and pretending he didn’t say a thing, or making a doll with the same markings as the clown puppet from the movie...

🍋 citron continues to be even scarier than the actual horror movie, but can’t wait until the next horror night! maybe watching it was a bad idea after all...

chikage utsuki

🌙 chikage just doesn’t get the appeal of horror. it’s just a fake movie, why do people get so creeped out by terrible sfx and unrealistic monsters?

🌙 he’s seen scarier things than any werewolf pack, zombie outbreak, or witch coven can throw at him. if you insist on watching a scary movie, fine, he’ll be happy to let you sit on his lap, just don’t expect to creep him out as well, or else you’ll be sorely disappointed.

🌙 he analyzes the movie more than he watches it, but doesn’t speak up even though the fight scenes look pitiful. if this were real life, he’d sweep the whole brood of shambling monstrosities in record time and be back home in time for izumi’s curry

🌙 chikage runs his hands under your shirt whenever the monster’s on screen to scare you. it’s actually really creepy- his fingers are light and quick and always makes you flinch, even if you know it’s just your boyfriend

🌙 he’ll listen to your thoughts about the movie, but doesn’t have strong opinions himself. he thinks the scares are mediocre at best, even without considering his background, but won’t mention how unrealistic it was unless you mention it first.

🌙 psychological horror, however, is a whole different story

🌙 maybe chikage can’t get scared by generic spirit halloween monsters but once you introduce thought-provoking plot, questions and dilemmas, now he’s hooked

🌙 he really likes wondering if the protagonist is actually the good guy and making theories about the origins of the monsters and why they’re so destructive, even if he forgets about them once the movie’s over.

🌙 love love looooves the “the monsters were harmless creatures before humans dished out the first blow” trope. he knows how common it is, but there’s a lot of ways to go about it, especially on a subtextual level, and he just can’t get enough

🌙 the deeper the plot is, expect a longer conversation about the ins and outs of it. they get surprisingly thoughtful and introspective, even if chikage throws in a few bullshit stories related to the movie just to watch you squirm

[lovesanmotion]

yandere!ateez reacts: being in love with a popular foreign girl

💌 This is: Requested

Hongjoong:

Hongjoong would try his luck and strike up a conversation with you in english. Even though his english is a little broken, he still tries his best to learn a new language just so that the two of you would be able to communicate well. He would always buy you snacks and drinks from the nearest convenient store and write little notes of encouragement for you, even when you're stressing over an amount of school work. And when you two are a little free, Hongjoong would ask you out. Like a date. Just the two of you. He would mentally take note of what you like and what you don't like, sneakily taking pictures of you that he would later on stare at before he sleeps and memorizing the way the way to your place. Whenever he sees a gift placed on top of your desk, he'd throw them into the trash and replace it with his gift for you.

Seonghwa:

Whenever you're having trouble reading and understanding hangul, Seonghwa would always be ready to help you. Since he's always close to you. For a foreigner, the locals found you very pretty, so it was only natural that they understood that a guy like Park Seonghwa would be all over you. They were envious of you. There was never a day that he isn't around you, all the other guys seemed to be scared to approach you. Whenever they attempted, something always happens to them behind closed doors. It was evident the way they would always scurry out of your way. Seonghwa loves to twist other people's words, turning them against you and making him sound like he's the only one you have.

Yunho:

Would shoot his shot with you. Yunho is the type of guy who wants to look cool and manly in the many prying eyes. At the end of class, Yunho would walk up to you and offer to walk you home. If you agree to his offer, Yunho would strike an interesting conversation about you, wanting to get to know more about you. But if you refuse to his offer, Yunho would only insist until you agree to him. He'd want to walk you home, even if his house is located in a different direction. Upon reaching your place, Yunho would pull his phone out coolly and ask for your number.

Yeosang:

He would glare intensely at every guy who tries their luck with you. He would switch the items in their bags with hollow blocks or cat poop, mix their drinks with soy sauce or with vinegar (depends on the original color) when they aren't looking and his favorite classic, trying up their shoes by the laces on top of the flag pole. Yeosang would walk up to you and befriend you. If you ask him about himself, Yeosang would only tell you a few to little details about himself. Saying that you're more of the better topic between the two of you. Yeosang would always ask you questions, questions about how you're finding this place, your first impression on him, what your home country is like and what are your favorites. Yeosang is the type of guy who would always get you something because it reminded him of you and knew that it was your favorite.

San:

San would watch everyone try to get close to you and swarm you in campus as if you're some celebrity. But while San is observing everyone, he would be alone in his table, reading the dictionary and forming his own sentences in your mother tongue. So when the day comes, San would sound like a natural to you. You were impressed at how he sounded and spoke, it was evident that you missed your home country and San is somehow helping cope up. He would be glad to carry your books and bag, sending cocky grins at every guy who is interested in you too. Would not be afraid to confess his love to you in public.

Mingi:

Would use his tall height and deep voice to intimidate others from getting between you two. To others, Mingi may appear hard shelled and cold but for you, he will become a soft and sweet, constantly letting himself topple over and be laughed at whenever he's around you. His main goal is to make you feel comfortable around him, enough for you to trust him. And when he's done that, he'll slowly make you fall for him by turning everyone against you, conspiring their acts and works that would seem that what he's telling you is true. So that you wouldn't have anyone to run to but him. Because, why do you need friends? Mingi is the only friend you need. You want a boyfriend? Mingi can be that one for you too. He will never leave your side and will always stick himself to you.

Wooyoung:

He would always show off and try to impress you. Whenever you're talking to a boy, he would immediately swoop in between, flash you his biggest smile and ask you out later for drinks. Whenever you're not around, Wooyoung loves to throw insults at guys who were trying to hit you yesterday or days before. Would always get himself into fights at the back of the school for always the same reason - you. There was one time, Wooyoung got carried away from just punching your classmate who tried to help you with your homework and lead him to being half dead by the back of the gym hall. Wouuld silently curse to himself, wishing that he should have been dead because he was found by the janitor and was immediately brough to the hospital.

Jongho:

A pure boy, to you. Always greeting you with "good morning" and asking how your day going so far and if you've slept well enough last night. If you say yes, he would wish you good luck and ask you to eat with him at lunch. If you say no, then Jongho would run out of school and buy you snacks to help you perk up in the morning. Whenever you're both facing a mountain pile of homework, Jongho would offer to do half of yours. Taken aback by his request, you would decline, saying that he has just as much as you and would end up sleeping much later in the night. But Jongho would insist and in the end, you gave up. Without Jongho, you would have slept less and would be very cranky going to school the following day. And as thank you, you asked Jongho to come with you and get ice cream and boba after class. And who was Jongho to decline an offer coming from you?

[thestorycfus]

Can I go where you go?

Pairing: Sylvie x fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of worlds ending

Summary: Sylvie and Reader are running together through apocalypses. Reader fears that Sylvie would leave her behind in order to keep her safe.

Word count: 1,467

Masterlist

Running was all Sylvie ever knew, and it was how she met you, too. Your princess in shining armor showed up when your own world was ending. A comet was supposed to wipe out the entire population of the region, destroying everything you’d ever known. You were in the path of destruction, about to disappear, alone and in silence, blissfully unaware of the threat you couldn’t escape.  

At least until Sylvie came along. She stepped out of a portal in the middle of your room and almost gave you a heart attack. She was scary, but in a good way, and you didn’t hesitate when she asked for shelter. In exchange, you just wanted to know how she did that portal thing. And why she ended up in your room, of all places. And what she was running from. And what exactly the whole ‘hiding in apocalypses’ deal meant for you, the supposed apocalypse resident.

You later found out that it wasn’t like Sylvie to share her stories and plans with strangers, or with anyone else, but she was tired and lonely, and you were curious, also lonely and about to die anyway, so she decided to indulge. The problem (or the miracle) was that, with every little thing she revealed, she got to see a bit of you too. You were equally fascinated and terrified, and she couldn’t just leave you behind.

After a nice, homemade dinner in your small kitchen, she asked you if you wanted to try the ‘portal thing’. You took her hand without looking back and, ever since, you two had been crossing space and time together. Falling in love with Sylvie was as easy as breathing, and being loved by her was as beautiful and thrilling as the universe itself. You helped her with the ongoing plan to defeat the TVA and, in secret, you dreamed of a life for the two of you when it was done.

You didn’t mind the constant running at all, as long as Sylvie was running along with you. You would rather handle any apocalypse with her than have a normal, secure, boring existence away from the love of your life, and you made sure to tell her so whenever the topic came up.  It was one of the few matters you two ever fought about, but you feared you would never truly convince Sylvie of how happy you were to share this journey with her.

You knew Sylvie wished to take you to some peaceful, safe place where you wouldn’t be perpetually at risk. It was impossible, since your survival should be a nexus event on itself if you ever dared to leave the constant string of apocalypses, but your girlfriend still wanted to offer you that. It just hurt to know that she didn’t plan on sharing such a dreamy reality with you, not even if it was more her dream than yours – the quiet life, the stability she never had, the option to stay.

Sylvie was determined to have her revenge, and she wouldn’t sacrifice the mission for anything, not even for you. She was smart, resourceful and capable of getting around any problem, and that made you afraid. If she figured out a way, was there anything to stop Sylvie from giving you the un-apocalyptical world she thought you deserved, even if you didn’t want it at all? Would she even let you know or would she simply convince herself that it was a sacrifice worth making to keep you safe? Could she leave without warnings or goodbyes?

That’s what you were thinking about as Sylvie cuddled you to sleep. You two were hiding in an abandoned house in another ending world – a house with a big, soft bed for once. This apocalypse was supposed to be sudden, so everything would seem just fine for the next 24 hours, according to Sylvie. The blonde could tell you were concerned, but you refused to tell her why. She had promised never to enchant you without your permission, so she just held you close, her hands running over your skin in soothing patterns. Even with your worries, the comfortable bed and the presence of Sylvie helped you fall asleep.

Soon, you wished you hadn’t. That house was too silent, too pretty, too home-like, even if it was completely empty when you arrived. It seemed to fit too well in the safe world that Sylvie used to describe to you. That thought kept running around your mind even when you were unconscious, and it gave space to a chilling nightmare.

In the dream, you woke up in that same bed, but you were lying alone. At the other side of the room, you saw Sylvie. She had her back turned to you as she entered a time door. You immediately knew what she was doing, but you were too shocked to call for her, and then it was too late. She crossed the portal and it closed behind her, making Sylvie, her TemPad and your happiness unreachable for the rest of your existence. The sight was like a sick reverse version of the moment you met Sylvie, a beautiful, magical runaway appearing from nothing in your room. Neither image would ever leave your head.

Then, you actually woke up. For a couple seconds, you weren’t sure of what was real. You were in the exact same bed, staring at the same corner you faced in the dream, where Sylvie had been just a moment before. You were shaking and the tears in your eyes made it hard to see any details, but you felt Sylvie’s arm over your waist as you sat up. You turned around to see her, still awake and looking at you with concern. You tried to wipe away the tears, telling yourself that this was real, Sylvie was real, Sylvie was right there with you. She was hugging you in an instant, kissing your tears away.

“What scares you, my Princess? You are safe, love, I am here to protect you.”

Her words only made you cry harder, holding on to her as if she might disappear.

“I had a bad dream, that’s all. Don’t worry about it, Syl.”

“Of course I am going to worry, Princess. It is my duty to keep you safe and I wouldn’t accept anything less.”

You hid your face against her shoulder and sighed, trying to recompose yourself enough to tell her about it. You weren’t sure if you could find the words to do so, but you looked up to her once you managed to stop crying.

“You were leaving. You had found a way to take me somewhere the TVA wouldn’t look for me, and you were leaving me behind without even telling me so.”

Your voice was just a whisper, but you looked Sylvie in the eyes as you spoke, making sure you wouldn’t miss any signs from her. If she actually planned on ever doing that, maybe this was your chance to know. You watched as realization hit her, and she shook her head, looking even sadder than when you woke up in such a disoriented state.  

“How come you think too highly and too low of me at the same time? I would never betray you in such a way, even if I would gladly betray the entire world for you, and I would never be so selfless to leave you, not even if it was to give you a better life, unless you ordered me to.”

Sylvie was capable of deceiving almost anyone, but you knew she wouldn’t lie to you about anything that important. She could, sometimes, strategically forget to mention some relevant information, but she would rather be tough and sincere than lie to protect you. When it mattered, she always told you the truth, even if it hurt you both.

“I know. I know you, Syl, and I trust you more than anyone I’ve ever known, but you speak of that world as if it would be utopia for me. It isn’t, Syl. My utopia is just you.”

She gave you a sad smile and a slow kiss, both of her hands holding your face.

“Don’t be silly, Princess. It is only utopia if it is ours. When I am done with the TVA, we will build it together.”

And you thought you couldn’t be more in love with her… Your princess in shining armor always knew what to say and do to make you feel like there was nothing but the two of you in all of space and time. Nothing as important, at least.

“That and everything else. Promise me, Syl. The good, the bad and the impossible… We will face all of it together.”

“Of course, Princess. Together. I swear by you.”

[tenthgrove]

Hello, can I request La Squadra members falling in love for a civilian they see constantly? ex: the waitress from a restaurant they frequent, the owner of their favorite bakery. I hope my request is understandable, my english is basic.

La Squadra Falling for a Civilian

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Romantic, SFW

Formaggio- Formaggio is less guarded with his trust than an assassin perhaps should be. A fellow commuter on the bus or train, a reveler at the nightclub, just anyone he passes on the street really, are all people he would happily chat to if given the opportunity. He already has several friends who are civilians, and it's only a matter of time before one of them finds their way into his heart. Formaggio doesn't think about the possible consequences of having a civilian lover as much as he probably ought to, though sometimes late at night, unwelcome possibilities do occur to him. He'll be honest with you about his work, since he couldn't stand to be with you otherwise. He trusts you to keep a secret. If the rest of the team discovers your affair, Formaggio will defend your relationship with all his might, convincing them through sheer insistence that the two of you can be trusted not to let this be used against you. And for the most part, it isn't. Your relationship is uncannily normal, with plenty of dates and nights-in where the two of you can be together without the outside world having any say. There is one condition to all this, naturally. You have to take care of his cats while he's away on work. He never trusted any of the others to do it.

Illuso- Perhaps unsurprisingly, Illuso never really considered himself a relationship guy. Casual flings are a dime a dozen, but until recently it wouldn't have bothered him at all to hear he would never find love. Perhaps it was the fact you were a civilian that changed this. Spending so long around criminals had warped him, made him forget how to see the good in people and in himself. You had never known any of that life. You reminded him who he used to be. You mean the world to Illuso and he will protect you at all costs. He urges you to report any strange occurrences to him, stalkers, people asking intrusive questions, anything of the sort. The thought of someone finding out about you terrifies him, and it's that very anxiety that innevitably leads La Squadra to investigate. The first time Illuso ever shows tears to anyone in his squad, is when Risotto informs him he won't be stopping you from seeing each other. Illuso goes home to you that night and holds you close. He does something he hasn't in a long, long time. He talks about the future.

Prosciutto- Growing up, Prosciutto could never envision himself without a spouse. Children, either, if they were at all willing to have them. But once fate had brought him to Passione, he made a strict policy: no friends, no confidantes, and most certainly, no lovers outside of Passione. How quickly that went away when he met you! It was like the very fantasy of his future love had burst into reality just to greet him. He seized his moment, invited you to meet with him again, and soon after that you were lovers. For the longest time, he lies to you about his profession. Psychiatry, he claims, for the sake of an excuse not to tell you about the day-to-day details. But he thinks about the difference between his life and yours every day. He thinks a lot about how its going to be possible to settle down with you. The only thing he knows for certain, is that no matter what happens, he's going to make it possible. Only two of his colleagues know about the relationship- Pesci, as informed in a drunken, guilt-ridden confession, and Risotto, told shortly after in a private meeting with the both of you present. Risotto sighed, patted Prosciutto on the shoulder and told him he respected him, both an assassin as a friend. Though he urges you both to be cautious, he trusts you to do so. He wishes you all the best for whatever may come.

Pesci- If there's one thing Prosciutto considered fortunate about Pesci's faint-hearted personality, it was that he could not ever envision his brother chasing after pretty people when he had his back turned. Simply, Prosciutto hadn't considered someone like you coming along. A person so gentle and amicable, even Pesci would force his anxieties aside and confess his feelings to you. Pesci doesn't realise it, but he's the perfect lover- supportive and understanding, while equally ready to jump to defend you when the time calls for it. You discover fairly early on what he really does, since Pesci could never live with himself for lying, but you can tell in his eyes it doesn't reflect the real thing. It doesn't change how you feel for him. And as for the rest of the squad, Pesci is one of the few who is honest from the start. Before your first date, he goes to Prosciutto and asks for advice. Annoyed as he is that this has happened, Prosciutto realizes how good this could be for Pesci and his development. It's clear Prosciutto's own methods of installing some confidence into the boy haven't worked. Perhaps you'll have better luck.

Melone- With his primary function in the operation of his stand being to analyze people, it's only a matter of time before he finds himself developing a more long-term attachment to one of them. It doesn't matter if you were actually chosen to host his stand, or even if you were eligible. Melone is struck at once by your compatibility and eagerly starts a conversation. He charms you into accepting his number, and a Passionate romance begins shortly after. Melone hints to you that his true occupation may be outside the law, but for at least the first year he says nothing more about it, and convinces you not to care. Melone is an observant and entertaining partner. While he is not particularly fond of dates, nights indoors with him are always a pleasure. La Squadra rarely likes to pry in Melone's business, so the chances of them finding out about you early on are low. When it does happen, Melone tells them of you of his own free will in the hope you might become friends with some of them. The assassins are so chuffed with the innocent, strange specter of Melone's lover, they cannot help but let his secrecy slide.

Ghiaccio- It might be hard for an outsider to see Ghiaccio as the romantic sort, but deep down, a soulmate has always been his dream. Perhaps it's not the spectacle of romance himself but companionship, a person who understands and accepts him in the way nobody else can. Someone to spend his life with. Meeting you was an accident. He was fleeing from a hit by foot as the police approaches, when he carelessly bashed into you on the street. Despite his rude introduction you invited him into your nearby home and, realizing it was his best hope of escape, he agreed. Now that you are lovers, Ghiaccio dreams of nothing more than your warm embrace. He loves you unconditionally, and worries for you every day. When La Squadra discovers your affair, he's less in trouble for having a secret lover than for tackling whoever it was who spilled the secret to the ground. Now that the pair of you have Risotto's blessing, however, Ghiaccio is far less anxious about being with you. There's talk of you moving in together, so Ghiaccio can have his wish and hold you every night from now on.

Risotto- A lover in any context was never really on the agenda for Risotto, let alone one from such an innocuous background. Letting himself get close to you could only happen in extreme circumstances, most likely you finding him injured after a mission and treating his wounds, without the faintest clue where he got them from. Risotto didn't mean to get attached, but after that day he couldn't help but revisit you. Soon, you were meeting in secret as lovers. He does not dare be seen in public with you, but the nights you have inside together always leave your heart fluttering at the smallest smile. Still, Risotto worries about you constantly. A lover could easily be used against him, and he could never forgive himself for any harm done to you. Yet, he knows he could never bring himself to cut contact with you. The solution, he decides, is to ask you to move in with him and the squad. It will be strange, he knows, to have a civilian live amongst assassins, but it's the best way to protect you, and he trusts his men more than anyone.

Sorbet and Gelato- Having been together since the start of their adulthood, Sorbet and Gelato never anticipated a third person joining their relationship. Still, it was an unspoken truth between them that should the right person come along, they would be okay with it. They met you while they were undercover for a mission, at the end of which they pulled you aside and told them who they really were. Unlike most others they don't hold back on telling you the details of their crimes, but if you didn't run away on day one you're probably alright with that sort of thing. Despite how callous and brutal they are to most, Sorbet and Gelato treat you with the upmost sweetness. It's rare they get to show their kinder sides outside the team. On the topic of the team, they make no effort to hide their relationship with you. Nobody dares disrespect them enough to question it. It's true that your relationship with the pair may expose you to quite some danger, but don't fear. Sorbet and Gelato will protect you with all their souls.

[loyally-unfaithful]

domestic life hc—tartaglia | childe

word count: 2.8k

pairing: tartaglia | childe/gn!reader

genre: fluff

a/n:  idk man i got the childe brainrot,, fictional kgb member, i love you <3

who kisses the other on the nose and the one receiving the kiss blushes?

childe would do it a lot to you, especially at the beginning of your relationship.

not that he doesn’t like giving you nose kisses—he still loves kissing you in general <3

it’s just that when you both just started out, your reaction would be more potent. you’d be more flustered, stammering as you stared him with wide eyes.

if you asked him why, he’d give a smile that’s so painfully honeyed, while his eyes twinkled with mischief.

« you’re just too cute when you act all shy. » his voice teasing.

but here’s the secret.

he is not immune to nose boops.

do not hesitate to do it to him!! give him a taste of his own medicine!!!

he will not expect your boldness and he will be caught very off guard.

his own reaction would be just or even more incredible than yours, actually sksksksk.

tease him and reap the rewards man.

he’d snap up and blink at you, surprised. not quite believing that yes, actually, two can play at this game. he’d try to stutter out a witty comeback, but it holds no bite due to the furious blush covering his face.

either way, the both of you would laugh it out.

nowadays tho, you mostly just playfully roll your eyes at him and smile lazily, waiting until he gives you a kiss on the lips too.

who sits on their partner’s lap as they wrap their arms around their partners neck?

this man is your throne and you will sit on your rightful place.

real talk tho, childe makes a p decent chair considering. and he actually likes having you on his lap—it gives him free and unrestricted access to everything.

his arms would snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him. he’s not letting his prey you go anytime soon, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

as you wrap your arms around his neck, his hands may even wander elsewhere.

maybe you’ll simply hold each other close, tenderly closing the distance between the two of you, happy to have his affection, and him yours.

or maybe he’ll take it as an opportunity to kiss you, roughly, with desire, with want, until you’re breathless and your lips are bruised. this position, you think, as you feel his hand sneak under your clothes and trace your bare skin (which now feels unbearably hot), may also lead to something else. something more.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

who kisses the inside of their partner’s palm before reassuring them everything is going to be okay?

before setting off on his travels, childe would press a gentle kiss on the inside of your hand, reassuring. it’s a message, a reminder, a promise.

a promise that he’ll stay safe, that’ll he’ll return to you, unharmed.

he does it to soothe your worries and let you know that there was nothing to be worried about—he doesn’t want you to get all stressed on his behalf. as much as it pains him to part from you for too long, he needs to do what he must; but he’ll be thinking of you and your health every step of the way.

so like

to go on a bit of a tangent

we know that childe’s work, as a fatui—a harbinger no less—is of course very dangerous. and even though he’s more than capable of handling whatever his travels throw at him, you can’t help but be worried for him.

and i also feel like, if you didn’t know this [his true nature] from the get-go, he’d hide his actual line of work or obfuscate most of the details from you.

it’s because he doesn’t want to stress you with the more gruesome details.

if you were never aware of the darker side of his profession, then he’d rather not have your perception of him be tainted. in your eyes, he was just sweet, darling tartaglia—not the murderer or weapon of war that he really was—and he'd prefer to keep it that way.

he’s aware that fatuis get bad rap as is, and he doesn’t know how he’d feel if his status made you afraid of him, or even worse, detest him. you hating him was the last thing he wanted.

you generally respect his boundaries, and accept whatever vague descriptions he gives you about his current “commission” (location, length of time). you have your doubts about his work as a “merchant”, but you have faith that he’ll see his endeavours through, even if you yourself are unsure and concerned.

anyway i…

i’m getting horribly off topic 0A0

moving on—

who initiates the forehead touch™?

after a long day of gruelling work, he’d probably long for your touch and affection, without exactly having the energy left to really vocalise his feelings. 

or at least, eloquently.

that’s why on quiet evenings, he’d seek you out and gently press his forehead against yours, pleased; you happy enough to follow his lead.

maybe childe lays his head on your lap while you play with his hair, untangling knots that have somehow formed in his unruly hair. at some point, he may reach out and pull you closer, close enough that your foreheads are touching. close enough to feel his warm breath fan your face.

you have to bend down a bit, and truthfully the position’s awkward, but your back’s protests are the last thing in your mind as you stare back into his pearlescent blue eyes.

despite his weariness, your comfort brings a smile to his face.

sometimes, he may even murmur something about how happy he was to be back home.

no words are exchanged, but there doesn’t need to be.

the love is there, and the both of you are content enough to simply revel in it.

where do they first say “I love you”?

things such as “i love you” and “i need you” are hard to utter for childe.

it’s a sign of weakness for him, and it’s a sign of weakness he does not wish to reveal nor acknowledge. if he says it, if he says that he loves you, he’s admitting a defect.

he has very little allies, and his enemies would not hesitate to take advantage of any leverage they can get. he doesn’t want you to be in danger because of him, he doesn’t want you to be used against him.

so admitting such vulnerability is very difficult for him.

however, though childe may be cold and calculated, tartaglia, ajax, is a man of feelings.

despite his consternation, he puts great importance over his loyalties and whom he offers his love to.

the first time he admits that he loves you, it is with great difficulty, as if it was a sin he shan’t utter.

he loves you, he thinks, but he cannot vocalise.

the first time he admits it, it was an accident. an impulse, the words whispered out against his consent, escaping before he was able to hold them in.

he carelessly lets the phrase out, and a part of him regrets while the other rejoices.

you make him weak when no other stands a chance to subjugate him so.

he hates it and he loves it oh so much.

it’s so so dangerous, and yet he is addicted.

he loves you.

who wraps their arms around their partner who’s cooking?

ok so like, it’s canon:

his siblings acknowledge him as the “the bestest big brother ever!” because he can cook and do housework. we stan a househusband.

anyway, this means that he’s at least a decent chef.

but because of his busy schedule as a harbinger, he rarely ever finds the time to cook, or to even be home. when he does get home, he would greet you before promptly passing tf out.

so he’d usually buy food when he remembers to eat. besides, his salary pretty much allows him to savour whatever liyue delicacy he wants to. the price, whatever it may have been, was negligible.

but honestly, truly, regardless of how luxurious and mouth-watering such expensive dishes were, nothing could beat home cooking. it hit different.

knowing this, you tended to prepare enough for two during dinner and save his portion on the dining table for when he gets home while you retreated to bed.

but on the off chance that he does get a day off, you best bet he’ll spend all that time within your presence. he is not letting you out of his sight and his arm’s reach.

he’ll ask you what you wanted to do. what you wanted to eat; he would treat you to anything, to repay your kindness, your thoughtfulness, as a way to say thank you, to say he’s glad to have you here and that he honestly truly cares for you.

you didn’t have to make him food but u did 🥺

if you said you just wanted something homemade, or if you wanted to taste what traditional snezhnayan food, he’d be more than happy to make you some of his favourite comfort food.

honestly you’re just shook that the man knows how to cook, and is quite good at it. an unexpected talent that makes you go “damn he’s the one, lads.”

as he works his magic, you’d help him around here and there, bringing this and chopping that. but for the most part, you’d just be his distraction and annoy him.

he will also annoy you back tbh.

playful digs and shade will be thrown… among other things being thrown…

yeah… cleaning up the kitchen is going to be a pain after this…

but he wouldn’t have it any other way—neither would you, for that matter.

you’re either gonna make something very delicious or nothing’s getting done, there’s no in between. you set the tone for this day dkfjd

if you want a chance in hell to actually get to eat something at the end, your best plan is to just wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. you’d pepper his skin with kisses while he tries his best to not be distracted from the task at hand (and maybe not slice his hand open with a knife).

oh well, what’s a little collateral damage here and there?

he’s here.

he’s yours, at least for now.

and you will take advantage of this.

who breaks out the first aid kit when the other gets a paper cut?

paternal cell.

paternal cell.

paternal cell.

we know childe do be a family man tho.

like let’s be honest, this man is a family man.

he loves his siblings and he loves his family. he has a very honest protective streak over his family and proclaimed loved ones. he hates seeing them hurt or unhappy so he will do anything to avoid such a situation.

if it does happen, he will do his damndest to remedy it.

so if he sees you getting hurt, even if it was simply just a paper cut, you best believe it’s protective ajax time and he’s pulling out the first aid kit.

bandaids, antiseptic, anti-inflammatory lotion, you name it. you tell him you don’t actually need half of these items and he shushes you before fussing over you.

he is making sure whatever ailment you have will heal up nicely and quickly.

he doesn’t want to see ur hurt :( and he rlly hopes u heal as fast as possible. you being hurt hurts him tenfold.

but not to worry, if he gets hurts? you’re also there very very quickly. you will rush to his side and you will fret over him, and his heart will fall all over for you once more, because you care about him and honestly it’s a nice feeling.

to be cared for.

maybe he doesn’t mind getting hurt if it means you would give him all of your attention and dote on him.

he just has to make sure you don’t find out he’s been getting injured intentionally because that’s instant banishment to the sofa for at least a few days.

who cuddles up to the other?

i like to imagine childe is a pretty affectionate dude, as in, he’s pretty touchy-feely. there’s also a little bit of possessiveness i think.

a lot of pda with this guy.

he wants to hold you close, he wants to be able to feel you near him.

so regardless of the time and place, he will make it known that you’re his, as he is yours.

it is no different as to when you’re in private. he’d snuggle up to you.

idk he just likes being near you? holding you, touching you, feeling you.

sometimes he can be a little restless in bed. if he doesn’t immediately conk out, he might build up some nighttime anxiety and paranoia. having you sleep soundly besides him makes it a little more bearable. it makes him feel safe and it certainly grounds him.

he finds that he sleeps a lot better and wakes up feeling a little more refreshed when you’re there with him.

of course, you were more than happy to reciprocate and curl up to him, his arms enveloping you.

though he might make a bit of a fuss and whinge, he lowkey highkey likes being in your arms. he won’t admit it, but being the little spoon is nice actually.

childe won’t ask for it or anything, he still wants to save face, but as you cuddle, the two of you would gradually shift until he has his head over your chest and he can hear the rhythmic beating of your heart. calming him.

who falls asleep on who? what is their reaction when the other falls asleep on them?

because of his job as a harbinger (not that you know that), he rarely ever comes home early or during normal human waking hours, so despite your determination you’re usually asleep by the time he slips inside your shared home.

that or by the time childe was comfortably sat next to you, more than happy to cuddle and listen to you ramble on about your day your excitement has already worn off, and in its place, drowsiness.

but it’s ok.

he would smile softly to himself, you asleep in his arms, small smile gracing your own lips, and gently lift up and carry you to your shared bedroom. slowly, carefully, he’d place himself near you without waking you up.

oh well, it can’t be helped. he’s happy enough to be around you, to have someone waiting for him.

but on the off chance you’re still awake while he was asleep, you would definitely take this chance to admire him, quietly watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

without that characteristic smug and self-satisfied grin, you’d wager he looked “innocent” you chuckle. but “innocent” and “childe” don’t belong in the same sentence.

stroking his hair, you’d notice how he looked so peaceful, carefree, even, when he’s asleep, and you long for the time when he’d look such a way when he was awake

you’d gently kiss his forehead, unable to bring yourself to break his peaceful repose to bring him to bed. instead, you wrapped a blanket you nabbed from childe’s bedroom around his shoulders and settle in his arms, happy to be near the man you love.

the next day, the both of you may wake up with terribly stiff necks rip

who likes to be held and who likes to hold?

i feel as if this is a shared sentiment. you both hold each one another an equal amount. ^u^

he’s used to being the older brother, the protector to his younger siblings, and he doesn’t oppose to having that role.

so in true childe fashion, he’d tease you for being all cuddly and insatiably hungry for his affection, but coddles you all the same (because he just loves the thought of, and being, held close).

you on the other hand love being adored by the object of your affection, paying no mind to his quips (ok maybe paying a little mind, as you huff and playfully hit him for being mean).

it’s ok though. he makes it up through his actions. and being paid attention to, cared for, adored and cherished by childe? you revel in it.

when you take him in your arms, he feels immensely happy and relieved.

to know that you care for him, that you’re looking out for him and that you love him—it brings forth a part of him he has long believed to have locked away and discarded.

a part of him that would’ve been considered weak, a part of him that wishes to be vulnerable, protected, and loved.

he figures that when it’s with you, it’s alright. he embraces it all the same because he trusts you.

you’re both smitten and you think to yourself that it’s alright his way.

because you have his heart, and he has yours.

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[maraudereestauderelb]

Pool Party

A Vince Neil smut One Shot

Prompt: Your parents are gone for the weekend and you decide to throw a pool party at their estate. Coming home after all those years brings back bad memories but a certain blond singer helps you overcome them...

Warning: Sexual acts

MASTERLIST

The music was blaring loudly over my parent's back lawn. Y/F/N had pulled me into the low end of the pool after pushing a cup filled with vodka-lemon into my hand. I was already feeling a bit tipsy as we started to sway our hips to the music, not a care in the world.

This party was a hit and it seemed like everyone was having the time of their lives. I made out another friend of mine in the crowd playing beer pong with a group of guys, who seemed to be more interested in her outfit than in the actual game. I shook my head amused and found my best guy friend at our outside bar flirting with the bar keeper we had hired. His name was Sanchez and he was from Spain and even I had to admit that he was hot.

Have fun Greg! I grinned but focused back on the music which had changed to a more up-beat song and I placed my arms on Y/F/N's shoulder so we could dance together hoping to get some attention from the guys around us. We were wearing nothing but our bikinis and I could feel pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head.

"Looks like we are attracting some guys over there." I told Y/F/N grinning and watched her head poke around gazing at our little audience until it stopped at a spot right behind me.

"Yeah. Hey, you mind if I just go over there and talk to Nik for a moment. Have barely seen him all night." I turned my head and followed her gaze. Nikki was sitting on one of the deckchairs in black jeans and leather jacket. This dude hasn't even taken off his sunglasses. "Has no one told him that this was a pool party?" I asked my best friend with a grin.

She just shook her head but I could see a little amused smile on her lips: "I might have mentioned it, but you know him. Maybe I get him to change. Be right back."

And with that she waded through the water. I just shrugged and emptied my cup before getting out of the water to refill it again.

It was weird being back home like that. I knew every corner of this house and still, standing here now as this totally new person - compared to my sixteen year old self - it just felt foreign. Like a place I have rented for a party but isn't actually my home.

It never did feel like home, to be honest. More like a prison with golden bars that locked you in, but all everyone always seemed to notice was the gold, not the bars.

I sighed and took another sip to get rid of my melancholy thoughts when from the corner of my right eye I saw the floodlights to the garage light up. Confused that anyone of the guests would be in that area, I grabbed my boho robe which was draped over a bar stool and walked down the little path towards the driveway.

Taking the last turn around the corner I could see one of my dad's Rolls Royce parked in front of the garage and I almost had a little heart attack thinking my parents might have come back home earlier from their summer vacation, when I saw a blonde mop of hair examining the vehicle.

"Vince? What are you doing there?" He almost hit his head on the side mirror, when he heard my voice, shocked that he's been caught.

"I...uhm I was just looking..." His one hand was brushing through his hair nervously while he pointed back at the car. "It's really...I mean man, it's a 1982 Silver Spirit...it's so new, this baby must have cost a fortune!" I had to smile a bit, delighted at his enthusiasm. My dad does always drive one of the best and latest cars, he must have inherited that hobby from my grandfather.

"Yeah, must be pretty new. Actually I haven't seen it before. Usually my dad has his Bentley out. It's probably in the garage." I said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal and leaned against the car, watching Vince's eyes grow big. It was kinda cute how excited he got over cars. "Y-Your dad has a Bentley?" He stuttered and his gaze dropped to the gararge longingly. Again I had to smile to myself, watching Vince stand in the driveway in nothing but his swim shorts, gazing at the garage like a little kid at a toy store.

"You know, if you want...I mean only if you really have the time - you might miss a few hot bitches while you're gone - but if you want ...I can show you the rest of the cars." His head turned back in my direction so fast, for a moment I thought he could have snapped it and he gave me a look like I have told a child it was christmas and his birthday on the same day. "The rest of the cars?", he said with a thin voice, probably trying to hold back an unmanly squeal. This time I couldn't hide the smile and shrugged. "Sure, if we both hadn't had so much alcohol in our blood, I would have even let you drive one." I suggested and walked to the pin pad to open the garage doors. A strange sound left Vince's throat, which sounded like he was holding back an excited scream and I turned around to him and grinned: "Please don't faint." And with a push of the buttons the garage door lifted from the floor.

"What the fuck?!", Vince exhaled and I was afraid his eyes might pop out. We stepped into the hall and I closed the doors again, hoping we wouldn't attract more people who wanted to see the cars.

"Yep, it's a tic he got from my grandpa and surprisingly my dad's also into racing cars. Well watching them..." I rolled my eyes. "The worst thing about those cars is, if I didn't care so much about their value I definitely would have slashed a few holes in some tires." A gasp from Vince signalled me that this wasn't the right answer. "Well, not for the cars' sake." I hit a few swtiches and the hall lit up.

"If you wanna get into a car", I informed him while he roamed around the at least half a dozen vehicles, "just tell me, I got the keys.", pointing at a display cabinet on the wall behind me.

"Dude, is that a 1979 manufactored 450SL Mercedes-Benz?" Vince said excited running to a red convertible Mercedes at the end of the hall. I followed him.

"Yeah, that one is my favourite. That's also...shame on me...the only car I know the exact labelling of. The others in here I'm glad I can name the brand. Dad said I was supposed to get it after I graduated college. Well, you probably know how much my parents love me at the moment, so that went down the toilet hole."

"That's your car?!" Vince was still examining every detail of it. "Was." I corrected him and he finally looked up into my face.

"Oh, your dad sounds like a major asshole by the way."

I shrugged and followed him to the next car. "Sadly, I can't pick where I came from. But enough about me. So, which one is your favourite?"

"The Porsche."

I laughed: "Of course, the porsche."

"Hey, you said I can look at them from the inside." "Yes?"

"Which one is your dad's favourite car?"

"The Roll Royce in the right corner over there. Why?" I replied confused at the sudden change of topic. For the first time I realized how close Vince and I were, leaning against the Mercedes. His exciting demeanor was replaced by a smirk. "Maybe we can't slash holes in those pretty tires, but maybe this is just as good." Before I could ask, Vince had grabbed my waist and pulled me against his tanned chest when our lips collided. I had to moan at the sudden impact and the alcohol, which was already running through my system, clouded my mind. Why was it suddenly so hot in here? And gosh, those lips were soft. Before I could properly comprehend everything, my hands got caught in his hair and I pulled him down deepening the kiss. Vince grabbed my thighs and pick me up pushing my back against the vehicle, which squeaked a bit at the impact.

"Vince..." I mumbled with a satisfied sigh as his lips traced a path down my neck. I still couldn't put his words and his actions together, but his mouth was just too good to stop him.

"Let's have some fun in your dad's favourite car." It finally clicked in my brain and I moved my head to make him look up at me. He first thought my sudden move was a way of disagreeing with his idea and he already had his next words formed in his mouth: "Look I know this-" but he stopped midsentence when he saw my smirk.

"Can I suck you off?" I had no clue where my sudden bluntness was coming from, but I loved Vince's physical reaction to it, feeling the small thrust of his hips and a rather bigger problem poking into my ass. "In the car?"

"Gosh, fuck! You can't just straight forward say such words to a man." I shrugged and put a hand under his chin only to kiss him again.

He started carrying me towards the black car when I stopped him: "Wait. Need to get the keys."

Vince let me back down on my feet and I rushed to the cabinet grabbing the right key.

"Someone's really eager.", he laughed as I reached for his hand and pulled him along. In seconds the driver's door was opened and I pushed Vince into the seat, before straddling his legs. "Fuck, this is hot." His hands grabbed my ass cheeks grinding me down onto his hips. I just let my pelvis rock against his while I looked into his eyes with a grin on my lips.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this!"

"Me, or in your dad's car?" Vince asked with a smirk.

"Both." I answered and leaned down to kiss him again. With my right hand I was searching for a certain lever and as I found it the seat slid backwards, leaving enough space in the foot compartment for me to kneel in.

I interrupted the kiss and let my lips trail down his neck to his chest, where I kissed my way down over his navel until I reached the waistband of his shorts.

Kneeling between Vince's legs, I let my hands brush over the inside of his thighs, staying

just inches away from his little problem. I could hear him groan and it sent a tender prickle straight to my core.

Without thinking more about it I untied his shorts and let my hand wonder inside to pull out his hard dick. Fuck he was thick. I thought and swallowed hard before opening my mouth and giving his head a tentative first lick. It was already covered in precume and my lips sucked in his head, while my tongue swirled around it. My right hand was still holding the shaft until I decided to swallow him down to the base. His thickness almost made me gag and I felt tears forming in my eyes, when I suddenly heard a deep moan: "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Yes, just like that! Take it all babe!" And then his hands were in my hair and I let him hold my head in place. God, this was hot. I was trying to breathe through my nose but I couldn't keep the moan from escaping my lips, vibrating around his dick. "Yes, fuck!" His hips began to thrust up and his hands pulled my hair back and forth while he kept fucking my mouth. I could feel saliva escape the corner of my lips, but I didn't care, I was too focused on giving him a good blowjob. I slowly opened my eyes, still letting him fuck me and my gaze moved up to look at him. He had his head back in his neck and his eyes closed in ecstasy, but then he groaned: "Fuck, Y/N...I'm gonna cum!" And his head dropped forward and he looked straight into my eyes. "Gosh, fuck- you're so... hot!"

And then I could suddenly feel my mouth filling with his cum, running down my throat and I almost forgot to swallow. His dick slipped out of my mouth and I licked my lips clean with a grin. "That was fun!" I said, too satisfied about the thought that I gave a blowjob in my dad's car. If he knew. My grin grew bigger and I climbed back onto Vince's lap, who was still trying to catch his breath. "Fuck, you're amazing." He mumbled, still dazed from his orgasm. Then he suddenly wrapped his arms back around me and kissed me hungrily. And all I could do was

claw my fingers into his hair, giving myself into this hot kiss, as cold shivers ran down my spine. My body definitely wasn't done yet and it let Vince know by slowly moving its pelvis down onto his hips.

"Pleasetouch me." I begged against his lips and hid my face in the crack of his neck to muffle my moans, as I desperately wanted to feel some release between my legs. This has turned me on more than I would like to admit. But having Vince almost naked underneath me in one of my parent's cars, felt so exhilarated I couldn't stop moving.

Vince's hands reached under my robe and he tried to pull it off my shoulders.

"You're wearing way too much...", he whispered with a hoarse voice into my ear and I helped him get rid of my it. Then his fingers undid my bikini top in seconds and threw it onto the passenger seat. I moaned into his ear as he grabbed my naked breats, massaging them. My heart was beating so fast and all I could think of was feeling this sweet release while my hips rocked against his, trying to find enough friction. "Let's move this to the backseat, princess. So I can pay you back." He let go of my breats and grabbed my thighs again getting out of the car. I could hear him open a door and then I felt leather under my back as he pushed me into the cushions of the backseat. "Much better. Now, let me get rid of that" he hooked his two index fingers into my panties and pulled them down, "and then I wanna hear you scream, princess."

Before I was even able to react, Vince had disappeared between my legs and a second later his lips were sucking hard at my clit. "Fuck...Vince...fuck!" My head slammed back into the leather cushions and he had to grab my thighs to hold me still. Thousands of elictric shocks were running through my body straight to my core and my hips started rocking aginst his tongue. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This felt so good. My hands rushed to his blonde mop of a hair to hold him in place. I could feel how wet I was getting and Vince just kept sucking my clit when suddenly two fingers entered my core at once. "Oh god! Fuck..." I couldn't hold back my voice any longer as his fingers fucked me relentlessly. "Please...please don't stop..." I was so close and my mind wasn't able to think straight anymore, when out of nowhere a third finger entered me. "Oh fuck Vince!" And then I came so hard, my entire body started shaking. I lost control of it and all I was able to do was ride it out until my muscles gave out. I had no idea how Vince had been able able to breathe, the way I had been fucking his face, but moments later he crawled up from between my legs and I slowly opened my eyes, only to be met with the same enthusiastic grin I had given him after the blowjob.

"You good?"

"Yeah...", I said, still trying to catch my breath.

Suddenly he kissed me again and for a while we were just making out heavenly, my fingers clawed into his back, probably leaving red streams. Until he interrupted the kiss and looked back down at me: "And? Better than slashing holes in those pretty tires?"

I grinned satisfied: "Yes..."

"Anytime, babe." He winked and got up. I followed him and grabbed my bathing suit, putting it back on, followed by my robe. "We should go back to the party." I said blushing. "Not that someone is missing us."

"Afraid what they might think if you show up with me?" He joked but all I could do was blush harder. I couldn't tell him, how right he was. Even though I can't deny that my core is still shaken from that orgasm. Gosh, how many girls he had probably done that with already. I shook my head, before trying to fix my hair.

"No, afraid that your friends might have lit my pool on fire." I said with a grin and locked the car doors.

"Hm, there's even a small possibility..."

"Vince!" I exaggerated a shocked voice and then smiled, playfully punching him into his arm. "That's not funny!"

"A little bit!" He grabbed the keys and walked to the display.

"Do you know exactly how many keys are in there?"

"Don't even think about stealing one!"

[peralta-guaranteed]

Wishing I could read something about Peraltiago talking about how they feel on all Teddy's proposals to Amy. They are really akward, uncomfortable moments and Teddy really crosses the limits every single time, and wish we knew more on their takes about it. Once I read a fic about Jake sending Rosa to stop Teddy and take care of Amy but it just not the same.

lol I have a fic on that topic exactly - I have a proposal for you - where I had the cathartic experience of writing about Rosa breaking Teddy’s hand for being so awful, but I agree with you, Teddy reappearing in the show is so uncomfortable each time ugggh. I thought the wedding one was the worst but then he shows up literally fathering a child with someone else and still does it, disgusting.

So maybe take this as taking place before that fic of mine, where Jake does mention how bad Teddy's proposals make them feel!

Jake can tell, just from the simple drop of her purse in the hallway, that it wasn't a good day.

Weird, how it's these tiny things that he's learned to read instantly - or maybe not, given that he's a detective trained to focus on details others would overlook, and being unable to stop the habit when it comes to the most important people in his life.

She tries to be all smiles when she comes into the living room, though, where Mac is happily rolling around in his playpen while Jake is folding laundry on the couch, the very picture of domesticity as she leans over the pen to kiss their squealing, giggling little baby. The view of her in one of her old pantsuits instead of her Sergeant's uniform is already making his hearts do little leaps even before she makes her way over to Jake for their customary Welcome Home kiss.

"How was that inter-department meeting today?" He asks as she shrugs off the suit jacket and continues her pace into the kitchen, setting aside a set of Mac's bibs that can't be folded anyway.

"Okay." She replies, and that's enough to make him abandon the laundry alltogether and follow her (one eye on Mac, of course, but he's not even crawling yet, and couldn't roll himself into any danger on his foam-based playmat - probably). It's rare that she doesn't have at least one inspiring, 'interesting' or just generally informative story to share from her meetings, the only person in probably all departments looking forward to them.

She's staring into the fridge when he reaches the room and leans against the counter, trying to gauge her level of upset. From the raised shoulders and the fact that she doesn't need to check the fridge to know they were going to order Chinese tonight, he guesses it's at a solid 8, at least.

"Teddy was there." She mumbles into the cold, bright space in front of her, and Jake's shoulders tense up just as much as hers even as he tries to sound as chill as possible.

"How is he?"

"Still extremely boring." Then, after a pause. "Still hung up on me."

So much for chill.

"Did he propose again?"

She nods and sighs, her shoulders dropping as she closes the fridge, but doesn't turn toward him.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." She says through gritted teeth, suddenly. "He has a child with someone. He has a wife. How can he look at them and turn around and-"

Mac's little happy cooing from the living room interrupts her, as do Jake's arms as they wind around her middle, his chin dipping into the space between her shoulder and her neck.

"That's probably a question only a therapist could answer, babe."

Amy sighs as she leans back, falls into the warmth and support of her own husband, the father of her child that she can hear happily babbling to himself from a room over, and wonders some more how Teddy could ever think he would be a better option for her.

"He wasn't like this when we were dating." She muses, and feels Jake's kiss against her jaw - a reflex action she's noticed whenever she mentions a past partner or anything, frankly, that reminds him that there was a point where he wasn't Jake Peralta-Santiago yet. But she kind of needs to finish this thought, and she knows he can handle it. "He was nice and kind and he wouldn't- he wasn't manipulative, pulling something like that in public, or deluded enough to think he was in the right for it. I mean, he thought he was pretty great, but he wouldn't have -"

"You musta broken something pretty major in his brain when you left him." Jake's voice is joking, luckily, but she can sense a hint of something more. "The absolute devastation of a Santiago break-up speech, rehearsed or not."

"Harsh, Jake."

"Remember manbun musician? He went downright insane after your split - not that he was probably the sanest person around before that, but-"

"You promised we'd never mention him again."

"I'm just saying. I don't think any man left by you is going to be completely right in the head after that."

"You're making me sound like some black widow monster." She smiles, though, hearing the awe and affection in his voice bleed through.

"I'm not judging those guys, anyway." He continues, and that tinge of something else in his words is back. "I mean, I can't imagine what I'd be like if you ever decided to take Teddy up on one of his proposals."

She straightens up from her lean on his chest, twists in his arms without breaking the hug, and stares right into him as she studies his face - his actually slightly scared face.

"Jake, you know that's not ever-"

"I was joking babe."

"No. Jake. That's not even an option. Not even an idea. Never. Not in a million years. Not if-"

She grabs his shirt where it's unbuttoned, right next to his heart, and his hand reaches up to squeeze hers like it always does, thumb swiping along her rings.

"I know, Ames." The soft kiss that follows calms her just as much. "I cashed out that jackpot and I'm not giving it back."

She hums as she kisses him again, leans her forehead against his for a deep breath.

"It's just... sad." She returns to her original train of thought. "That he can't move on despite his life doing so. I mean, it's been years. He's got a new job and a new partner and a new baby, and he's willing to, what, dump all that? For me? For that idolised image he probably has in his mind of me now, because nothing between us has been real since ages ago?"

"Wow, this is really bugging you."

"Yes! He's barging into my life and thinking he knows what's best for me and that it's him, like I'm some love-struck silly dreamgirl who's going to drop her entire world because he's romantic enough to go down on one knee in front of our colleagues and superiors who have no idea what's going on-!"

Mac's noises from the next room turn from content to disagreeing, growing into what is sure to be a cry any minute now, and it's the only thing that can make them break apart from their hug. He calms down immediately when Amy lifts him out of his pen, and holds him close while she settles on the sofa next to the half-done laundry basket, snuffling against her chest in a very obvious I’m hungry mom couldn’t you tell?! move before she can even unbutton her dress shirt.

He latches on immediately when her shirt is open and her bra pulled down - not a nursing bra today, considering she got ready for an important work meeting - while she feels Jake rearrange the pillows behind her and to her side to get her comfortable, without a second of hesitation or having to think about it. He moves on to pick up the jacket she's dropped onto a dining room chair, drapes it on a hanger in the hallway, and she feels the soft prick of tears in her eyes before he settles down again next to the two of them with a glass of water for her set on the coffee table.

Jake only hums as he notices the shine in her eyes too, and wipes across her cheek. He knows that nursing can get her into a pretty emotional state sometimes, but this is probably a bit more than that.

"I love you." She says, and barely waits for his return of I love you too to continue. "I can't believe Teddy expects me to look at Mac, and look at you, and still think he could ever be a better offer for anything I want."

"Aw, babe." He grins softly in return while playing with Mac's foot that is kicking in his direction, covered in the fuzziest green socks with red apples on them. "You scored a pretty dope 2-for-1 deal with us, I admit."

“Before that, too.” She insists, leaning to unlatch Mac and hand him over to Jake to burp as they always do while she buttons back up, thinking about Teddy’s many proposals before Mac was even planned on. “Jake, you know that, right? You alone were the best deal first and foremost.”

He smiles at her, Mac’s soft little curls right next to his cheek as he sways and pats his back, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Jake-”

“You were happy with him.” He says, quietly, while Mac lets out his usual milky burp and smiles at him much wider when he wipes him clean with the linen cloth pulled from his shoulder. “I know it’s in the past and I - I’m not jealous or anything that stupid, but. Like you said... He wasn’t like this back then, and you were happy.”

His eyes seem forlorn, even as he smiles at the now sleepy baby in his lap that looks so much like him it always makes her heart twinge, that little bundle of joy with Amy’s dark hair and skin that seems to know the Cuban sun without ever having been there.

“And I know it’s not - and it doesn’t make sense to think about, but - sometimes his stupid proposals made me wonder what would’ve happened if he’d done that while he still made you happy.” His voice turns low, and it’s probably not just to avoid waking Mac back up as he falls asleep. “And that just makes me think about how I had to watch you be happy with him, and that’s not - that’s never a good memory to revisit, honestly-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes.” She leans over into his field of vision, the most serious look on her face. “Even back then, I wouldn’t have said yes to his proposal.”

Jake’s eyebrows scrunch up in question, his eyes turning into those puppy dog eyes that she knows as a direct hit to her heart when he’s actually sad or worried, and she can’t not hold his face in her hands again.

“Yes, I was happy with Teddy for a while, but looking back at it I realise I was- there was always this feeling of waiting for something. Hoping for something to be different.” She kisses him, careful and short and barely there, but enough to make him close his eyes and lean towards her a bit more. “And maybe back then I thought I was waiting for him to change somehow, but really I was only waiting for him to change into you.”

“Teddy couldn’t change into me if he had major brain surgery.” Jake scoffs, and Amy huffs a laugh with him.

“Yeah. And that’s why he’d never been right for me. That’s only ever been you.”

He finally, properly smiles now, eyes open again and set on her with a soft shine to them before he leans over more, as much as he can without waking the deeply asleep baby in his lap.

“I’m glad you figured that out when you did, in the end.” He quips and earns himself a shy nod. “And said yes when it came to the only good proposal you got.”

She snickers at that, thinking about the gaudy but wonderful boxing belt in her mementos box, and leans in the last few inches she needs to kiss him again, neither careful nor short this time, but equally as soft. 

“And the next time I catch Teddy trying to propose to you again I’m going to punch him out before he can even get down on one knee.”

“You are not assaulting a fellow officer.”

“Kick in the balls?”

“How very mature, Mister-I-have-an-actual-child-now.”

“Can I at least tell him where he can stick his ridiculous ideas of marrying you at any point in the future, no matter the circumstances?”

She hums for a second.

“You can. If you add in how ridiculous the idea was in the past as well.”

“Oh now, that’s a good deal.”