#I can’t handle any more today I did like four hours but holy SHIT IM CLOSE

[operationblanketfort]

YOO

[hyunjilicious]

what is and what should never be [bucky barnes]

A/n: ok, so. Im really fucking insecure about this. I literally poured my heart into this fic. I'm genuinely unhappy with the beginning, but I promise you, it gets better!! I don't have it in me to rewrite it for the 4th time. I really hope you'll still like it though. If you ask me, this is the best fic idea I even had. Please, please, if you enjoyed it, let me know!!!

Summary: It was you and Bucky. An unlikely couple that shared equally disturbed pasts. When you get a day off, your paradise turns into hell as Bucky's nightmares return, leaving you alone to deal with The Winter Soldier. (FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST) 12k

Warnings: 2 smut scenes - they're graphic but not extreme, fluff, angst, violence, mentions of death and suicide, blood, a fight scene - also quite graphic but it was written to serve the angst. I don't want to spoil the ending, but if you really connect with the characters, you will not hate me!!

This day had been long awaited. After months of back to back missions and endless efforts to climb up the greasy pole of US social standards, words failed to describe how ecstatic you were to know, that for the next 24 hours, your whole schedule would fully be in your hands.

You had the freedom to do just about anything you wanted, and the simple fact that the rest of the avengers left to deal with some paperwork excited you to no end. You woke up when it was time for them to take off, and made a snarky remark about heading to the gym - something along the lines of having a productive day centered on self development.

Just about 20 minutes later, you and Bucky, now also alone in the Stark Tower, decided to start off your day on the right foot. He offered to make protein smoothies as you changed into something comfortable and fitting for a workout, but neither of you got their job done.

You had no idea how that happened, but before you knew it you were wearing your sports bra and still had your pajama pants on, moaning on the counter of Tony's kitchen as Bucky had lodged himself between your legs, hungrily exploring the heated skin of your neck, peppering you with bruise marks that represented his adoration for you. "You heal fast anyway" he shrugged, pulling you closer and digging his teeth into your flesh, sucking profusely and eliciting an erotic moan from your lips. 

With every new hickey he left, another one would disappear, which in turn would make him even more frustrated, “The hell should I do? Tattoo hickeys on you!?” he groaned, moving up your neck. You caught his cheeks into your palms and kissed him back, smiling as he kept getting more and more aggravated. 

It didn't come as a surprise when the blender went berserk, splattering fruit pulp, almond milk and protein powder all over the pristine walls of the room - both of you have long forgotten about it. 

The way Bucky cleaned the mess was the epitome of not giving a shit, and you couldn't find it more endearing. He bitched and whined his way through the whole process, and tears formed at the corners of your eyes at the ridiculousness of the half assed job he just did. 

You eventually reached the gym - of course, against all your pouting and begging to put off this session. "Doll, you're the only avenger who can't fight. A punk on the street could snap your purse and there would be nothing you can do"

Wrong, he was not. You couldn't fight - but at the same time that didn't mean you were defenceless. It was your immense power that for months on end made your teammates consider you a liability. The energy that surged through your veins had been too great for you to handle, and in fact, it still was, but now, thanks to the joined efforts of Tony and Bruce, there was a way for that power to be contained. Their solution came in the form of two massive shackles wrapped around the length of your forearms. They were made of dimeritium and kept all kinds of energy from leaving your body. But, even so, that energy was in full form, buzzing inside every fiber of your being. And so, while wearing them you couldn't attack anyone, but there wasn't a way for them to harm you either. That field of energy protected you from every kind of damage and wounds you had ever encountered, ranging from fist fights to automatic rifles to guided grenades.

"I'm the only one that doesn't need to know" you huffed and puffed, annoyed but still determined to get this first training session done with.

But that never happened. Halfway through your warm up rounds, your teasing side awoke and it took you about ten minutes to go from batting your eyelashes and flaunting your ass, to nonchalantly cupping his cock into your hand.

No one could blame Bucky for not even trying to stop you. Bless him, he did everything he could, but he was never able to resist you. And probably never will be.

By the time you were done at the gym, both your bodies were coated in lecherous layers of sweat, no of them being from actually working out. It was only a matter of time until you managed to break his self control and he had you sprawled on all fours in the middle of the boxing ring, moaning your soul out as he pounded your pussy. 

The momentum made your whole frame rock back and forth, your hair falling around your face, "Holy fuck-" 

The room vibrated with the vulgar slaps he afflicted on your bare ass. You arched your back and cried his name out loud, "Come on, Bucky- I- harder please-"

"How are you already so needy?" he chuckled, caging your waist between his strong arms and pulling you up until your back reached his chest. "I ate this pussy this morning before we got out of bed"

"You know I love your tongue-" you giggled out of breath as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "But it doesn't compare to your cock"

"What does?" Bucky rhetorically questioned before picking up his pace. He kept slamming his hips into yours, fucking you at full force as with each thrust, his cock rammed against your walls hard enough to make you see stars.

"I'm really fucking close, Buck" you whined, feeling your knees start to refuse to maintain your weight any longer. 

"Don't cum yet" he panted, "Wait for me"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" you cried out loud, liquid pleasure seeping out of you in the form of fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. "Please-" you whined, "I can't hold it anymore, I'm-"

"Not yet, baby" Bucky groaned, easily stopping you from wiggling around in his hold. His thrusts became sloppy and the orgasm got the best of him. He buried his face deep in your shoulder as his high forced guttural moans to rip from his throat. 

As he filled you up with his cum, as much as you wanted to comment about him making you wait and then not even bothering to tell you you could cum, you couldn't. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your chest heaved as the spiral of bliss seemed to go on and on, tons of ecstasy propagating in long painful waves across your body.

"Fuck-" Bucky panted as helped you up, "I could get used to days like this. We should retire"

"I'm not retiring-" you teasingly shook your head, "not until you find a way to give me a baby"

"I'd give you all the babies" he retorted, tugging your hand.

It caused you to lose your balance and stumble into his chest, "I love you"

"Love you" Bucky kissed the top of your head and spun you around. With his palms on your hips, he started guiding you towards the door, "Let's get you cleaned up"

And then, another wave of unproductivity followed. You showered, ordered pizza, whined about how there was still some smoothie left on the floor, and after you warned him about it, your face fell as Bucky stepped directly in the middle of the puddle of almond milk. He was fuming, the incident wiped any traces of happiness off his face. He mumbled something about that being the last pair of comfy socks he had left and something about Tony's devices being a constant pain in the ass. 

He went on and on until you ambushed him with kisses up his neck and shoved your hands under his shirt. In an instant his bickering turned into soft giggles as he innocently relaxed under your touch. You eventually cleaned up the mess and tried to make yourself busy. Nothing worked, you weren't in the mood for anything and at the same time, even though you did absolutely nothing all day, you felt a wave of tiredness envelop you.

At about 4pm, and you Bucky had already been lazily laying in bed, a mess of tangled limbs under the fluffy duvet. Your conversation started from the tactical gear he swore would look better on you than on him and then wondered how you didn't know how to sow.

"I'll hit you" you threatened.

"I'm sorry" he laughed, holding onto your forearm as it was resting on his chest, "But you know how much I love it when you get angry at my misogynistic jokes"

"It's rude" you scoffed - you didn't mean his jokes, but the fact that when he grew up, women were not anywhere near where they are today. 

"You know I don't mean it"

"I know you don't" you laughed, "Otherwise I'd have actually hit you"

"Don’t worry" Bucky said, "I'd hit myself if I was that stupid"

"Cute" you smiled, kissing his shoulder. Looking up at him, you promoted your chin against his chest, "Do you miss it? The 40s i mean"

He thought about it for a second. "Nah" there was a bit of nostalgia in his tone, but you believed him. "I've kinda made my peace with the fact that everyone from my old life is gone. I wouldn't want to go back now. I got you. I got all of you guys. I'm good now, really good"

"I'm glad" you beamed, feeling yourself warm up from the inside just thinking of the progress he made. After a few seconds, you spoke up again, "But what about the society? Like the day to day life? How do you like the 2010s?"

"I can't lie" Bucky laughed, "I liked Romania better. Much simpler."

"You lived in a dead beat apartment, hiding everyday" you scoffed, "How was that better?"

"I don't know… maybe it was the simple life. Apparently I'm all about that"

"You'd move back there?"

"If you came with me?" he questioned, looking down at you. There was genuine sincerity in his eyes and a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Wouldn’t even think twice"

"Maybe one day" you sighed with content. You snuggled back against his side, and closed your eyes. "We're not done avenging yet" you mumbled.

He didn't say anything to that. You didn't know whether he was getting lost in thoughts or if he was starting to drift off, but you would have been fine with either. When he spoke up again, you didn't expect the conversation to take this route.

"About Romania…" he sighed, "What made you come with Steve back in 2016?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" he muttered, rubbing his light stubble, "I know why Steve came-" Bucky chuckled, "And Sam's all up his ass, so there's that. But what about you?"

"I-"

"I'm aware of the rift I caused between you guys back then. So that's why I'm asking. What made you stand by Steve from the beginning?"

"I knew how much you meant to him. And I know how this is going to sound, but I felt sorry for you, Buck. I know what it's like to be alone, to have everyone turn against you. You deserved better"

"Love-?" he called softly, his voice nearly breaking. "What do you mean you know what it's like to have everyone turn against you?"

As you maintained the eye contact, you felt tears prickle, "I know it wasn't fair of me to keep my past a secret, but-"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to-" he said softly, his eyes warm. The pain was readable on his features, he hated how your whole demeanour changed.

"It's not that I don't want you to know, it's just that I hate talking about it. Gives me nightmares."

"Then we can just drop it" Bucky murmured, gathering you closer.

"I wish you could know without me telling you" you laughed, "You make everything better and easier. I should've told you, I know. It isn't fair to you. We've been together for almost two years but as far as you're concerned I didn't exist until I joined the avengers. I don't even know how much they know. We never talked about it"

"Love, listen to me. I'm here whenever you want to talk about it. You didn't do anything wrong. There are a lot of things about me that you don't know either. We're not those people anymore. No one can blame us for trying to escape out past"

"Yeah, you're right" you sighed.

Gathering your power, you pushed yourself up and settled beside him, with your legs crossed. You grabbed his hand pulling it into your lap, and intertwined your fingers with his as you spoke.

"Forget the official story, there's no truth to it anyway"

"I really didn't believe your mum was a criminal and that you were in a mental asylum" he joked.

"Good-" you smiled, his words lifting the atmosphere a bit. "Truth is, I don't know anything about my parents. But I have my assumptions. I grew up in that soviet facility so I never met them. I was told it was owned by a group of socialite scientists who wanted our help"

"Our? Who's we?"

"There were 7 of us"

"Did they have the same power as you?"

"Approximately. When we were younger, we used to comply and do everything we were told but as we grew up, things started to change. We weren't happy. Who could be? Considering we were being held in cells and studied like lab rats. We started to act differently and some might even say we tried to rebel, but that didn't work obviously, and that's when the restrictions began. For the last 3 years I spent there, there hadn't been a day where the temperature passed 0°C." 

Your skin crawled as you recaled the endless nights you spent shivering your way to sleep. Everything around you was ice cold. But it wasn't for the sole purpose of torturing you. It was your only weakness. As the temperature dropped, so did the movement of the atoms that made up your body - eliminating your powers to the point where you were barely alive. 

"One day, as spring came, we wanted to break out. We made a plan, and figured that as soon as we were out, we'd be fine. We were wrong. We were off about the weather and they got us before we even exited the perimeter. That's when the avengers heard about us."

By now, Bucky's eyes were wide with genuine curiosity, his mouth agape as he took in the information you provided. With every word you spoke his grip tightened around your fingers and his eyebrows gathered even further. There was discomfort and anger in his features, but he didn't interrupt you once.

"After that, the restrictions got tougher. We realised there was no way out. A lot of things came together in that small time frame. I realised what that place actually was days after we tried to escape. My friends - or that's what I thought they were, figured out another plan. Why fight when you can just eliminate the premise?"

Bucky moved his lips but no words came out. He cleaned his throat and sat up a bit, "What- what do you mean?"

"They tried to kill me" you said, plastering a sympathetic smile on your lips, hoping it would make it easier for him to hear.

"What the fuck. Why?"

"I think my dad used to be part of that team. And I think he made me the way I am. Now I don't know why he wasn't around anymore, but that team wasn't trying to get us to do anything. They were trying to make more of me. So if I was dead-"

"There would be no reason to keep the other kids…" Bucky finished the sentence for you.

You nodded.

"And what happened?"

You bowed your head trying to find a way to put your words together. Bucky didn't rush you, just reassuringly rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, waiting. When a tear from your cheek slipped and landed on the back of his hand, you looked up and took a deep breath. "I killed them. All of them."

He didn't say anything. Didn’t move a muscle, as he waited for you to continue. 

"I didn't even want to do that, Buck" you sobbed, breaking down. "I killed over 20 people because I was afraid. I didn't even move. I was in the corner of my room the whole time, but everyone who approached me was fried to death. I don't even know how I did that. I was just scared"

"Oh, baby" Bucky cooed, pushing himself up to wrap his arms around you. You fell against his chest, crumbling in his embrace. "I hope you know that was not your fault, ok?" he asked, rubbing your back. "You were just a kid, alone and afraid. It breaks my fucking heart, those bastards. Please don't feel sorry for them"

"I feel sorry for the other kids"

"They tried to kill you, Y/n" Bucky countered, "If you hadn't killed them, I would've gone after them. All of them"

"They were desperate..."

"So were you!"

"I can't help but feel like a monster sometimes, you know? Like I'm reckless and out of control. There are times when I'm all happy and excited about what tomorrow would bring, and then i remember what I did, and I have a hard time fighting away the thoughts that try to tell me I don't deserve that"

"What you deserve is the fucking world ok?" Bucky said, tilting your chin so you could see just how serious he was. "This past couple of years, you saved hundreds of lives and I know for a fact you did it out of the pure kindness of your heart, not because you wanted to make up for anything in the past. You're a fucking angel. You're the embodiment of good, you hear me? I know you. You'll never understand how much respect I have for you, and how in awe I am with the kind of person you are. Please, don't ever think less of yourself. Ever, ok?"

Tears rolled down your cheeks as his words proved to be much more than you were able to hear at that moment. "Thanks, Buck. That's sweet of you to say-"

"It's not sweet of me to say, it's the fucking truth" he scoffed, but he somehow managed to make it sound loving. "You didn't even fucking try, but just being around you made me feel like a person again. You're amazing, Y/n. We're all lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you."

"You're gonna make me cry" you sniffled, curling yourself into a ball against his chest, "I know you were in a dark place when we met. I'm glad I managed to help you through it"

"You pulled me through it" he sighed, tightening his hold around you. "I went from wanting to die, to thinking that I didn't even deserve the easy way out. Look at me now."

"Buck, stop"

"I love you so fucking much" Bucky laughed. 

His whole frame shook as he pulled you back down, safely holding you between his arms, "You're amazing" he added, kissing the top of your head, "Perfect"

"I said, stop" you chuckled, slapping his side, "I get it, you like me, can we-"

"I adore you" Bucky cut you off after grabbing the sides of your face between his palms. "And thanks for trusting me. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about your past, so thank you. I'm always here for you. If there's anything ever, I got you, ok? Forever"

"I got you too" you added, kissing his cheek and then moving along his jawline, "No matter what happens, you'll always have me on your side. I'm all yours, Bucky"

"Yeah, you are, doll. All mine"

After that talk, how you managed to fall into a deep sleep will always remain a mystery. Nightmares didn't make their way into your mind, and you settled for a dreamless slumber, actually fully content for the first time in a long while.

But not everybody processed grief the same way. And if Bucky mentioned earlier that he was lucky to have you, as you were pulled out of your sleep, you realised that he wasn't as lucky as you were when it came to the mysteries that creep up on you when you least expect them.

-

"Wake up sunshine"

The sound reached your ears, but it wasn't Bucky's voice, so you just groaned in response and rolled over to the other side, completely pressing your face into the pillow.

"Buttercup, it's time to wake up"

The voice seemed uneasy, as if the person speaking was actually terrified. You opened your eyes wearily, and were met with the usual, complete darkness of your room. 

"Come on, Y/n" they spoke again. You turned to see one of Tony's maintenance robots hovering above your body, one small screen lit up on its front. Blinking a few times to rid yourself of the sleep still lingering in your eyes, you managed to make out the faces of Tony and Steve, both staring at you.

"What's going on?" you mumbled.

"You've got incoming," Tony announced, and then shook his head at whatever someone next to him had said. The microphone wasn't performant enough for you to hear what the other person said, but it was not like you cared.

"Incoming what?" you questioned, still confused out of your mind.

He turned his attention back to you, "The asshole"

You frowned and Steve scoffed, "Y/n, it's Bucky. He's not well"

"Wh-" you mumbled, your head snapping to the side, only then realising his side of the bed was empty. You shuffled your arm around the sheets, still warm. "What- what happened?"

"He's gone rogue, Y/n" Steve announced, genuine worry and guilt audible in his voice, "You need to make sure he doesn't leave. You need to stop him"

Tony's workstation. You needed to get the shackles off your arms if you wanted to stand a chance, "Tony? How do I take these off?" you asked, pointing to your cuffs.

"Already taken care off" he nodded, "Get to my desk, it's unlocked. All you need to do is actually get there. If you can"

"If I can-?" you began asking, but a loud explosion sound cut you off, causing the bed to shake as a wind blew through your room. "What the fuck!?"

"He may have found the grenade launchers" Tony smiled bitterly.

"Y/n," Steve called for you, "Please, be careful. And call us. Me and Nat will take the jet but I don't know-"

"Don't worry" you shook your head, jumping off the bed and rushing to your closet. You chose the first clothes you saw laying before your eyes and put them on, ready to go look for Bucky. "I got this, I promise"

"Oh, and Y/n?" Tony said, making you turn to him at the last minute, "Try not to fry my tower"

You nodded and refrained from making any promises you didn't know you could keep. 

As soon as you walked out the door, the sound of automatic rifles going off became deafening. Stepping over piles of broken glass, you made your way to the emergency staircase, heading to Tony's lab. You did so with maximal caution, knowing that if you were spotted, there would be no going back.

Descending the last remaining flight of stairs until his work station, a rush of adrenaline surged through you, knowing just how close you were. Silently rounding the corner, your eyes landed on Bucky's frame, easily holding one of the remaining SHIELD agents up by the neck.

He turned to look at you, eyes cold and empty. Not even rage. There was nothing there. No expression, no empathy, no feeling. It was as if he was dead. This wasn't him. 

"Buck-" you panted, raising your hands up in the air, signaling surrender. You eyed Tony's desk, determined to stall him until you managed to free yourself of the cuffs.

You took a cautious step to the side, hands still up in the air. Bucky watched you as the man struggled against his hold, legs spasming uncontrollably as he kicked and squirmed, even though it was so clearly in vain.

"Don’t mind me-" you smiled, sweat flooding your pores as you slowly approached your destination. "I'll just-"

"You'll just what-?" Bucky groaned, flinging his victim with impeccable ease. The agent's body flew across the room, crushing into the only device that had the power to help you get through this. As the work station crumpled under his weight, so did your hopes of getting out of this. 

"Bucky, hey-" you mumbled, afraid of pissing him off, "I-"

"Who the hell is Bucky?" he frowned, starting to march towards you. Your blood ran cold, knowing you didn't have what it took to keep up with him. You were never able to dodge anyone's blows, let alone his. When he reached you, his hand instantly reached around your neck, lifting you off the floor, "SHIELD?" he asked after taking a look at your attire. Although not carrying the emblem, it was probably the only explanation that made sense to him.

"Well, um-" you huffed, holding onto his wrist in hopes of not running out air, "No, not SHIELD"

"Then who are you?" he growled, tightening his hold on your windpipe.

"Fuck-" you gasped, kicking your legs, even through he didn't even flinch when you hit him. "You're not gonna believe this but, um-"

"Try me"

You looked into his eyes, hoping it would serve as some kind of a memento, that maybe he'd remember you. "You know me, Buck. It's Y/n, I'm- your girlfriend?"

Even saying it made you feel weird. This killing machine, apparently hell bent on wrecking havoc, was not the man you loved, and you cringed just imagining his reaction to hearing your words.

And it did turn out to be worse than expected, as he spun around, doing a complete 180° with your body before slamming you down on the floor. The wood cracked under your bones, knocking the wind out of you. The pain of the impact was excruciating, propagating along your body in waves of some physical agony you had never felt before. The sound of your bones cracking made you sick to your stomach. Your ears caught the sound of your arteries being torn as your organs collapsed.

And if you felt every inch of your body being shattered and destroyed, it was God's way of making you pay for your parent's mistakes, as when your wounds healed mere seconds later, the pain did not go away. Your nerve receptors still registered damage to the tissues, and no matter whether you were actually as good as new, your brain couldn't process that.

What consumed you the most was the fact that as you struggled to stand up, the pain of broken limbs lingered on. But you fought through it, gathered yourself and stood up, facing him again.

You winced with every muscle contraction, but eventually your eyes met his. He showed curiosity, along with something else. Something else which you wished wasn't determination to finish you.

"Can we-" you whimpered, extending a hand, "Can we talk?"

"Talk!?" Bucky raged, grabbing your wrist and twisting your arm to the point where he spun you around, your back pressing against his chest. "Not here to talk" he growled into your ear.

The hairs on your body stood as you heard his voice. Even though it was technically the same voice you loved more than anything in the world, it made you now shiver with a fear you've never experienced before. 

You didn't get a chance to sink too deep in your thoughts before Bucky raised your arm, dislocating your shoulder and busting your humerus into pieces. The pain cut your legs at the knees and you screamed in agony, falling to the floor at his feet.

"Stand up" he commanded, slamming his foot into your side. The momentum made your body roll away, until you settled back on the ground, face deep in the rubble. Your muscles pulled you to your feet with ease, but the pain coursing through you was immense, nowhere near close to what you thought bearable. You felt the skin being ripped from your body and when you looked down, your clothes were torn, soaked in blood, but your skin was intact. It was what you needed to keep going - to get inside your head the fact that you were fine, because at this point, the pain was one bruise away from making you faint.

"Bucky, please-" you cried.

"Stop calling me Bucky!" he yelled, starting to approach you again.

With every step he took, you slowly backed away. "Please, listen to me, just a second, please!"

He shook his head no, a demented smile on his lips as he closed in on you.

"Bucky-"

As a reply to your question, his fist flew up, slamming into your jaw, hard enough to throw you to the ground, "Why do you keep calling me-"

"What else do you want me to call you, huh?" you yelled at him, vision blurred under too many layers of tears. "Tell me, and I'll do it if it'll get you to listen to me."

"I don't want you to call me anything-" he cocked his head to the side, unstrapping a handgun from his thigh. He loaded it as you barely managed to crawl away, "You can take the pain. I respect that. Let's see how well you do with these lead bullets"

You saw them in slow motion, barely managing to duck your head behind the remains of what once was a heavy wooden bookshelf. The bullets missed your chest and face, but you saw them, felt them penetrate your skin, ripping through your muscles. 

The sound of your tissues being pulled to shreds made you feel sick to your stomach. As the bullets left your body, your wounds closed back up, leaving you a crying mess on the floor. Your throat constricted due to the wave of shock that hit your body, and your lungs started hyperventilating. Lightheaded and gasping for air, you struggled to crawl away from him, tears marching down your face and ending up on the floor, nothing but diluting the droplets of blood that had fallen from your body mere minutes before. Your heart was in overdrive and your vision blurred as every fiber of your being threatened to let you down. "Please-" you screamed, your voice breaking as you raised your hand for him, "Let's talk, please. That's all I want. Give me a minute"

But he didn't. He didn't even consider it. Instead, the force that controlled the body of the only man that ever managed to make you feel safe, tortured, destroyed and consumed your body for what felt like the better part of an eternity.

You had been thrown through walls, shattered windows, had glass shards lodged into your body from all angles. He unloaded cannon after cannon on you, used up all the ammo he had on him, only growing more and more annoyed when you refused to give up.

There was no way to know how much time had passed. Now you were standing by the window, inches away from the spot where two nights ago, you and Bucky clicked your glasses, smiling at how far you both had come. He laughed, saying he wouldn't have made it without you. And then he kissed you, confessing that the thought that maybe you couldn't have made it without him either, was what kept him going. 

And then there you were. 48 hours later, again, just the two of you. But now there weren't any champagne glasses between you, just his metal arm, wrapped around your neck, this time, as he said, for the last time.

"I don't get it-" he scowled, teeth gritted and frustration in his voice, "Why don't you fight me?"

"I can't fight you" you whimpered as your tears poured down against his cold hand, "And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"WHY?" Bucky screamed, and for a second, you thought you saw a crack there, a glister of emotion hidden deep in his otherwise beautiful eyes.

"Because I love you" you cried.

But there was none. He rolled his eyes and pushed you back, your body slamming into the window. You should've thought faster, been more witty and considerate, but terror washed over you and in the heat of the moment, you grabbed onto him for dear life, pulling him down with you, plummeting to the ground from what looked like the 70th floor of the Stark Tower. 

If until now you had been afraid of what you'd have to endure, it was now that you met true terror. You'd survive the fall, but he wouldn't. 

Even in the air, approaching the ground at a dangerous speed, he kept fighting you. Even in this state, you admired his determination - he had a job and wanted to get it done - even if that job was killing you. A man of his word.

By now, the pain was unnoticeable. If you wanted to keep him alive you had to act fast. Clinging to his body despite his vicious protests and ruthless blows, you used your momentum to turn the two of you around. And you did so at the last second, as before you knew it, your bodies crashed into the boulevard below, sinking down into the asphalt as it crumpled under your weight. 

The impact cut your breath away and there was a gnawing feeling all over your body, as if you had blades under your skin, pulling your body apart fiber by fiber. But you snapped out of it.

"Bucky!" you yelled, slapping his cheek.

He had fallen completely on top of you, his head pressed against your chest. He didn't move and the continuous buzz in your ears made it physically impossible for you to tell whether he was breathing for not.

"Bucky, please-" you cried, trying to move him so you could see his face. 

Nothing.

"No, no, no!!" you screamed, "You can't die, baby, please! Not like this, love. Please come back to me, Buck, I'm begging you!!"

You remained there and wailed, with him glued to your chest. Your arms had wrapped around his motionless frame, keeping him as close as you could. Nothing could have gotten you to stop. Tens of people gathered around the crater your fall created around your bodies, police showed up, cameras were pointed at your faces, but you didn't care. If he died, so would you. 

"You're all I have, baby-" you muttered, voice hoarse and dry from all the wailing and crying, "Please, you can't leave me. This can't be the end of us. Please, I don't know what to do, Bucky, please!"

You were soaked. In blood, and you didn't even know whether it was his or yours. God, how you hoped it all belonged to you, how the pool of blood you laid in was all yours. Tears soaked your face, pouring down your temples as your whole frame shook with your sobs, that was the true agony. You'd rather spend the rest of your days fighting for your life if it meant he got to see the sun again. You wished he'd hate you, rather than not feel anything at all ever again.

"Please-" you said again but this time your voice didn't even reach your own ears, you didn't hold that power anymore, "Please, you need to come back! You deserve so much better than this. You're the best man I have even known, you can't die like this, not today, Bucky. Not today!"

By now, the people around you had scattered. They knew your identities and for all the wrong reasons, feared you both. You were grateful for that now, you were alone with him again, as the sun began to set and a chilly New York night began to settle. 

Still, you didn't move. You still had faith. Or you were just stubborn. There was no way you'd pull away until someone either pried him off of you against your will, or someone that you trusted showed up promising they'd help.

None of them came, and you remained there, cradling his frame to your chest begging whatever God was listening, to bring him back. You didn't know if one of them heard you, or if it was just blind luck or fate, but you only realised his metal arm was lodged under your body when he moved it.

"Buck!" you cried, cupping his cheeks in your bloodied palms as literal life cursed through your veins. "Oh god, you're ok, you're alive!! You came back to me!"

You managed to hug him close one more time, before he pushed himself off of you. In the process of standing up, his eyes met yours for the briefest second. Again, nothing.

He gathered himself to his feet, wordlessly bending down to grab your hair. He forced you up and you instantly obliged, following him back into the building.

Once inside, he knocked you through a glass door, your body once again absorbing his fury. The pain had dissipated into a dull ache, and this time, you stood up faster. "I can do this all day" you sighed, the lie slipping past your lips with such ease, as if the energy inside your core wasn't running dangerously low.

"What did you just say?" he questioned.

He seemed taken aback, "I said that I can do this all day"

"Who are you?" Bucky yelled, marching towards you, determined to get answers out of you through nothing else but brute force. He slammed you back onto the floor, only to straddle your thighs and pick you up by the collar of your shit. "Why won't you just fucking die!?"

Circling your fingers around his wrists, you searched for his eyes, "Wanna know what keeps me alive?"

"Are you stupid enough to tell me?"

"I might be" you shook your head, "but I'll still tell you"

"Why?"

"Because I know you won't kill me" you cried, "I know you know me. I know you're in there somewhere. The man I love. I know you don't have it in you to kill me"

"Try me" he laughed, drunk with the power you were so willing to give him.

"These-" you panted, raising your arms in the air to show him your cuffs, "These are what's been keeping me alive but I know you won't-"

But you never finished the sentence. He didn't even think twice before ripping them off your arms and throwing them onto the floor, along with all the other mess you two had made.

You never thought he'd actually spare you. So it wasn't a surprise when the first thing he did after freeing you, was reach for his knife with the sole purpose of driving it through your chest.

But you were faster. You framed his face into your palms, releasing the energy from your body and allowing it to flow through his. It felt weird, wrong and chaotic, and the power surge wiggled itself out of your control, until a blast between your bodies sent you both flying back across the room, falling down onto the floor.

And this time none of you stood up.

-

"I leave them alone for what, a day?" Tony sighed, walking out of his Iron Man suit. 

"Holy shit!" Steve cried out, his knees betraying him as he tried to rush to you.

"No, wait!" Nat stopped him, "You can't wake them up until we get them somewhere safe. We need to make new cuffs for Y/n, and find a way to keep Bucky contained in case, you know… he's still not Bucky"

Steve was fuming with anger, nostrils flaring, "These are my friends you're talking about!" he exclaimed, pointing to your bodies on the floor, "Your friends too, Nat. You see them like this and the first thing you think about is restraining them!?"

"We need to make sure we're all safe" she sighed with sympathy, grabbing his hand for a comforting rub.

"You make sure you're safe-" Steve scoffed, "I'll make sure they're alive"

"Hey-" Nat stopped him, "If you touch her and startle her in any way, you die!"

Her words hurt him but he knew you never would. Steve felt his heart shutter just imaging what you must have gone through. He was ablaze with pure determination to prove Nat wrong, and to do right by you and Buck. "I carried her in my arms while she was passed out when we rescued her from that facility-" he fummed, pointing at you, "She never knew a man that didn't try to hurt her before. And when she woke up, she was afraid. Scared for her life. She cried in my arms and begged me to not let them take her again! She was never anywhere close to hurting me! She's good. So good. There's only good inside of her, I trust her to not hurt me more than I trust myself, ok? If I'm wrong, so be it. I die. I don't care. She deserves someone to look after her. If I had to chose, saving her would be the way I'd want to go"

His rant left Nat speechless. She just gave him a simple nod and stepped back. 

Carefully, he picked you up and carried you upstairs, as Tony put his suit back on and carried Bucky.

-

Never in your life had you woken up this fast. Your eyes snapped open and you sprung to your feet. 3 pairs of anxious eyes watched you, all of them ready to jump into action in case the situation called for an intervention.

"What-" you gawked, scanning the room, "Where is Bucky? Is he- is-"

"He's fine, Y/n" Steve assured you. He stood up and slowly approached you, arms outstretched. Your first instinct was to go for it, but when you reached him, you placed both your hands in his, and looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Are you sure?" you whimpered, "Can I see him?"

Sympathy took over his features, but Tony jumped in, "Absolutely not"

"What-" you turned to him, "Why? Did I-?"

"You didn't do anything wrong" Steve hummed, engulfing you in a hug even though you remained stiff in your spot. He rubbed your back, eager to soothe your worried mind, but you were too out of it.

“Can I just go?” you whispered, pulling back just enough so that he could see how serious you were, “I need to see him, please”

“Are you mad at him?” Nat asked with caution and your face fell.

“No!” you gasped, stepping away from Steve’s embrace, “No, not even one bit. I know that was not him, I know it’s not his fault. But when Bucky wakes up-”

“If he wakes up-” Tony sneered, roaming around the room. He nursed a glass of whiskey, as a mixture of disgust and exhaustion was readable on his features. 

“When he wakes up!” you spoke through gritted teeth. Determination coated your words and the hairs on your body stood as you refused to even think of the alternative. “He will wake up. And I have to be there”

“What if the Winter Soldier wakes up?” Nat asked.

“That didn’t stop me last time”

“Oh, no!” Tony butted in, stepping in between you and Nat, arms outstretched, “You know I’m not one to cry after money, but you and your pal left me with $37 million worth of damage. You two are one broken cup away from getting thrown into the streets”

The sum he mentioned made the skin on your back crawl. You didn’t even have $37 dollars to your name, but it made sense. Your body alone crashed through three TV’s, one gamma ray projector and if you thought about it, you remembered Bucky pulling apart one of the Iron Legion robots, and only the thought made you flinch. 

“So-” Tony said, “You two? Never in the same room again!”

“Take these off then” you suggested, pointing at the cuff on your wrists.

“Ha” Tony exclaimed, “A big chunk of that money comes from you frying all my electronics up until the 12th floor. Absolutely not”

“Tony, I’m serious” you whined, “He will hate himself. I need to be there! I need to make sure he doesn’t take all the blame on his shoulders”

He frowned, and sighed. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, and you hoped that core deep inside his chest really made up for a heart. And… it did. None of them were happy about it, but they finally accepted. Nat and Tony would have never probably given up if it wasn’t for Steve - right now, like so many times before, he really did seem like your guardian angel.

They ended up monitoring the room, and Tony waited for your signal, one hand on his cigarette, the other on the Iron Man suit. He was all talk - if anything was to go down and you would actually be in danger again, he wouldn’t even think twice before tearing his towers into pieces if it meant he could get you out alive.

And so you left, thanked them in the form of a simple nod, and headed down the dark hallways.

Oh, how you hated this.

What consumed you now had nothing to do with the pain you had endured in the past 24 hours. Its source was not physical, yet your whole body ached. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders - and in some way, it was - Bucky was your whole world, and the fear of losing him breathed down your neck.

It had been about 20 minutes since you stopped in front of the door that led to the room he'd been confined in. When FRIDAY announced that Bucky woke up, you rushed over, only for a hazardous sense of anguish to stop you dead in your tracks. Judging by the way he sat in the corner of the room, his fingers aimlessly tracing every indentation in the handcuffs Tony had restrained him with, you had no problem telling which one of him woke up. He broke your heart. His room was equipped with 5 different cameras and 2 microphones. Completely unaware of them, he sat inches away from one, and your heart shattered, sinking 3 stories below when you heard him whimper.

It was soft and quiet. His whole frame shook as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He was hunched down, brown hair covering his perfect face, but still, his sadness brought you to tears. 

You heard him again. He sniffled as he laid back against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot, lips almost white and dry as his chest raced up and down. His muscles clenched and his feet bounced against the metal floor, it was a sight you never wished you see ever again. 

Softly, you raised a hand, and thought twice before finally knocking.

"Go away," Bucky called, voice all hoarse and dry as it broke halfway through.

You were able to see him on the small screen next to the door, but he had no idea who came to visit.

Out of instinct, you knocked again before typing in the password and ever so slowly walking inside.

Instantly, he looked up. He was surrounded by an air of darkness and despair, ever so obviously tormented to the peak of his capability.

He stared at you for a few seconds as his eyes watered, and then he gathered his lips into a straight line, shaking his head. "Please, go"

"Bucky, I-"

"Please" he cried, head falling forward as he toyed with the metal edges of his prosthetic arm. He shook his head, "Please, don't do this. Just, go"

You took a deep breath, only then entering the room far enough to actually be able to close the door behind you. Slowly turning back to him, your palms sweated as you had no idea what to say to him. 

"Can you talk to me, Buck? Please?"

He chuckled, "About what?" 

"About whatever it is you think you did wrong, I-"

As he heard your words, his hands instantly flew up to cover his face. He was, however, stopped, as the cuffs on his left wrist kept him from moving too much. While a new row of tears flooded his cheeks, his eyes met yours, "Look at me.. I need to be restrained while you're alone with me"

"Those cuffs would literally do nothing to stop you from escaping, and you know it"

"Maybe it's just a sense of reassurance"

"To who?" you scoffed.

"To them" Bucky responded, nodding his head towards one of the cameras. "I'm a monster" he added, wiggling his cuff restrained hand, "I'm a danger to everyone"

"Oh for fucks sake" you rolled your eyes, marching up to him. With absolutely no remorse, you grabbed his hand and harshly pulled apart the metal that had him restrained to the bed. Before he got a chance to say anything, you bent down, unclipped the microphone from the foot of the bed, threw it on the floor, and stepped on it, until it was nothing but a small pile of shattered plastic.

And you kept going, destroying the second microphone along with the 5 cameras on the walls as Bucky watched you with surprise. You finished by going for the door and locking it from the inside. "You think I'm afraid of you?" you asked softly, "For 6 hours you did your best to kill me and failed miserably. Look at me, I'm unscathed"

"Did you hear yourself?" he cringed, shaking his head, "I tried to kill you"

"Ok, I know I said that you did your best-" you said, mentally scolding yourself for the error in communication. "We both know that wasn't you. That wasn't you, Buck. It was Hydra. It was the winter soldier, not you. My Bucky would never-"

"Y/n-" he stopped you, "I know you don't see things the way I do-"

"But I see them the right way"

"Listen-" Bucky sighed, driving his hands through his hair. For the first time that night you actually saw his full face, his cheek and signature scowl, his blue eyes and the tilt of the corner of his mouth - your soul melted when you associated the picture with the words that came out of his mouth. "I can't blame you for being here. I can't. If the roles were reversed, I'd be doing the exact same thing. But, holy fuck-" he sighed, pausing to gather his thoughts. Bucky looked you up and down. His lips quivered and his head fell to the side as a sad smile appeared on his lips. "Remember this morning? How we talked about our hypothetical child?" he laughed and shook his head, "Even if I know we could never have a kid because we're both sterile, it was still the most beautiful thought that ever crossed my mind, Y/n''

"Mine too, Buck-"

"And what did I do?" he dismissed your empathy, "Two hours later I was unloading an AK-47 into your stomach, like the brainwashed maniac that I am!"

"Don’t say that!" you exclaimed, "Don't you dare think about things like this!"

"Why wouldn't I?" he threw his hands up in the air, "What does it matter whose fault it is? I get to live with the consequences."

"But-" you breathed out, "We can work through this. You did it before. You can't let something that hydra did dictate your life, Bucky. You deserve so much better. You deserve to be happy!"

"I tried to kill you!" he screamed, for the first time losing his calm and standing up to be at the same level as you.

"That was not you!"

"So what?" he huffed, "I was there, Y/n! I will never, NEVER get the feeling of crushing your bones out of my head! I felt your neck snap! I choked you with my arms! That is not something I can live with! I can't live a life by your side if every time I look at you I'm reminded of those horrible things I did to you!"

"Buck-" you cried, looking at him from behind too many layers of unshed tears, "Please, don't say that"

"I'm sorry" he responded in the same fashion, his pain coating every word he said. "When I close my eyes I see you laying in a puddle of blood. I can't stop hearing your screams of agony. Agony that no matter how you put it, was caused by my hands. That's not something we can live with, Y/n. You were not made for this. You really do fucking deserve someone that won't wake up one day and try to murder you in cold blood"

"And what do you deserve, Buck?" you quietly asked, searching for his eyes, "To live your life alone? Forever? If you had been with anyone else, this would have turned out so much worse. That cute barista three blocks down that always scribbles a heart on your coffee cup? She's cute, yeah. You deserve to be loved by someone, but if that someone was her, you wouldn't be drowning in guilt right now, Bucky, you'd be mourning her. Yes, you got troubles. Yes, you've got a past more fucked up than anyone else I have ever heard about. That's the kind of shit you can't change. But whatever you do from now on, is in your fucking hands and yours alone. Don't try to tell me you're not worthy of having someone, because that's the fattest load of crap I've ever heard. You're a good man! With a fucked up past! And a dark side that you need to fight! And you have me! I don't care you dropped Tony's piano on my legs, apparently I can take it! I'm here for you no matter what! You don't want to be with me anymore? Fine. But don't you dare push me away, thinking that a ruined future makes up for a ruined past"

"Who's to say I won't try it again?" he asked, "I don't know what triggered the transition. But what if once a week I end up trying to kill you-"

"Apparently you can't!" you laughed bitterly.

"Ok, so I can't" he nodded in approval, "Is that what you want? I should be your rock, your best friend, I should always be there for you. Do you want to have your whole world turned upside down whenever my brain decides to go berserk?"

"See, Buck" you sighed, "Of course I don't want that. I can't fucking stand here and tell you that I do. What kind of credibility would I have then? But you know what I want? You. You and whatever nazi shit that comes along. I want you. To help you. To have you with me. To see you everyday. If every Saturday at 10am you decide you want to kill me, you best believe I'm sacrificing my morning coffee just so we can kung fu around the living room"

He looked at you for a long second, the corners of his lips fighting a hard battle against the hint of a smile that started to show on his features. Eventually he caved and chuckled, shaking his head, "That was a bit funny"

"And fucking true," you cried, going for his hands and bringing them up to your chest. He winced, but you spoke up again, determined to not let his mind torture him.

"I love you, Bucky"

"How do you not hate me?" he choked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Can you seriously look at me and not get even the slightest instinct to run away?"

"Bucky..." you breathed out, cupping his cheek. "How could I run away when I've never seen you in more pain than right now?"

"You're an angel, you know that?" 

"I've been called a lot of things" you giggled, "Angel isn't one of them, but if that's what you want, I'll take it"

"Come here" he whispered, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had you nuzzle against his chest, his hold keeping you tight and secure. His heart beat against your cheek and your eyes watered again. There wasn't one thing in the world you wouldn't do for that heart - to make sure it keeps beating, and that it keeps the man you love alive. And content, above all. All you wanted right now was for him to accept the things that happened. You wanted to take whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders, and put it upon yourself. "I love you so much, Bucky" you cried against his chest as your hold tightened around him, "I hate to see you torn like this. I don't want anything to ever happen to you. It terrifies me. I love you with all that I am. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. You deserve the world, baby"

"So do you" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You felt his chest shake, a deep rumble echoed from the depths of his lungs. You looked up to see him fight back a sob, his eyes wide open, glossy and red, trained down on you, "I love you too much to do this, Y/n. I'm sorry, I don't think I can"

"No!" you gasped, pressing your face back against his shoulder, "Don't do that. You can't do that. No"

"We won't work, Y/n" Bucky said as he brought you even closer, "I can't look at you anymore. I can't look at you without dying inside. You don't want to live with me like that"

"Yes, I do!" you sobbed. "I'll work with anything you give me, I swear there is nothing more I want. Just you. Just you and me. Bucky, please don't do this"

He held you close for what felt like half a second, but rationally speaking, your legs were getting numb. You just stood there, clinging to his body, taking in his scent and listening to his breathing even out until he pushed you away. Oh, how you didn't want to let go. Ever. But you did, and choked back a sob as soon as you felt the cold air of the room brush against the part of your body that had been pressed to his.

"We should get some sleep, Y/n"

"Are you coming with me?" you whimpered, afraid of the answer he might give you.

Bucky shook his head, "I think I'll just sleep here tonight"

That broke you. The shock and terror cut your breath away. It felt impossible - the feeling of losing him. The amount of pain that surged through you. At that particular moment, you felt like cracking your chest open to grip your heart into your hand and pick apart the broken parts. But not even that felt good enough, you were fairly sure you'd be left with nothing. It felt like a slap across your cheek, like a cloth had been placed over your mouth and your legs cut at the knees. It felt like the end. 

Optimistic by nature, not even you could deny the reason he wanted to sleep alone. It was clear as day.

"If-" you mumbled, tears coating your face at their own free will, voice shaking as you barely managed to articulate the words over the violent sobs that ripped their way out of your throat. "If I promise to not do anything to try and convince you to stay… can you promise me that in case you decide to leave, you'll come and tell me first?"

"Oh, doll" Bucky broke down all over again, throwing himself at you again. He collapsed on top of you, molding his body around yours. "I promise, angel"

You just nodded. That was all you could do. It took another few moments for you to gather yourself and stop wailing, but you did, and then, with nothing else other than a sad smile, you left. 

Your feet carried you to your room, and you were ready to collapse on top of your bed. Eager to cuddle into his pillows. They smelled like that shower gel you got him and you hated it. You wanted his scent. Not even caring how ridiculous it sounded, you padded over to the chair in the corner of your bedroom, the one Bucky uses to discard all his worn clothes. 

You wanted to find a shirt he wore, one that smelled exactly like you knew him, but before you reached the clothes pile, your attention was drawn to the window.

Steve was standing there, facing the busy streets outside, hands in his pocket and his head turned in your direction.

"I didn't see you, sorry" you gasped, as your eyes accommodated to the darkness.

"It's fine" he shook his head, "I just figured you'd turn on the lights, you know, like the normal people. Didn't think I'd scare you"

"Yeah, sorry" you sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "I did even think about turning the lights on"

He didn't say anything, but you saw him nod. He knew your pain. He lost enough in his life, and seeing his best friend sink back into his darkness was surely not easy for him either.

"Is he ok?" Steve eventually asked.

You shook your head, "He's too good of a man to be ok"

"That is Bucky" he laughed, and you couldn't help but do the same. The irony.

Steve's curiosity was palpable in the room. Words could not describe the appreciation you had for him for respecting your boundaries and not pushing you in a moment like this. But he deserved to know.

You opened your mouth to explain to him what happened, but as your mind processed everything all over again, you broke down. "I think he's gonna leave-" you cried.

Steve was quick to gather you in his arms, engulfing you in a bear hug, helping you stand on your own two feet. "What do you mean?" he asked, concern tracing his tone.

"I understand him, I do. And I promised I won't try to get him to stay if he doesn't want to. But- but I should've done more, Steve. I should've shown him somehow how much I love him. But I'm afraid he'll leave, and I don't want to live-"

"Hey, hey, hey" Steve hurried to stop you, petting your head softly before urging you to look up at him. "Bucky loves you more than I ever thought possible, ok? There's no question about it. I'm sorry I'm doing this, but I think he'll postpone it anyway"

"What?"

"The man wants to marry you, ok?" Steve smiled, "He asked Tony if he had any work for him so he could raise money. Can you imagine how that went down? He was red like a tomato, but he didn't think twice. James Barnes used the computer to look for rings for you. The Bucky I know? Never would've done this. You brought to life a part of him that no one else has seen before. He loves you. With all that he is. And trust me when I tell you, he won't stand to be away from you. You're his whole world, Y/n. He's my best friend, trust me when I tell you this is something you'll work through. I'll help, we'll all help. You're not gonna lose him, Y/n. He's so beat up about all of this because he loves you this much. He's all yours. If he decides to leave, I need you to be strong because he will be back. I got him back 70 years later. You just need to trust him. Trust his heart, ok?"

"Oh my god" you cried, "I don't know what to say"

"Don’t say anything" he chuckled, "We've been through so much together. All of us. Even if we try, nothing pulls us apart, ok? How many times has Loki died, hm?"

"God, Steve!" you scoffed somewhat amused and pulled back just to hit him, "Did you seriously compare Bucky to Loki!?"

"It got you to smile, didn't it?" he laughed. "But I'm serious. You've both been through so much worse than this. You'll get through this one too. And in case you ever feel like you won't, I'm here, ok?"

"Ok…"

Funny as it all was, it worked. He calmed you down - to some extent. Gave you hope you didn't know existed. If it wasn't for Steve, you probably would have not been able to fall asleep. And even though dreams didn't visit you, and you never relaxed enough to actually get some rest, you just dozed off. All clothed and curled diagonally on the bed, you cuddled Bucky's pillow to your chest as your eyes slowly fell closed.

When you opened them again, it was still dark out. You had no idea what pulled you awake as you struggled to sit up on the bed, but then you heard Bucky's voice again, from the doorway.

"Y/n?"

“Buck?” you gasped, turning around. Only his silhouette was visible, head hung low and hands deep in his pockets. He was leaning against the doorway, silently awaiting your response.

Right then and there, you felt your world collapse. Steve’s monologue made you actually fucking believe things would be fine, but here he was, keeping his promise. In the buttcrack of night, he kept his word, bidding you a much feared farewell.

“Is-” you sobbed, jumping out of bed and rushing towards him. You almost knocked him off of his feet when you flung yourself at him, but he was quick to reciprocate, caging you between his arms. “Is this it? You’re leaving?”

He didn’t say anything which frankly made everything worse. You broke down even further, clinging to his shirt as if it was the only source of oxygen keeping you alive - it sure felt like it.

“Look at me” Bucky urged you, tilting your chin up, “Please?”

You slowly lifted your head, your eyes meeting his.

“I’m sorry, I will make it up to you” he whispered, a frown settling above his tired eyes, “You’ll see”

“What does that even mean?" you questioned, tired and sick of this ongoing conflict that should not even have been an issue to begin with. "You don't have to make up for anything"

"I know you see things like that" he cooed, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. He spoke softly, his breath fanning against your skin, somehow, even in this situation, managing to calm you down. "But you can understand me too, right?"

"I don't want to" you shrugged, "I don't care. Why does it matter if I understand you or not if you're gonna leave anyway?"

"I'm not leaving, doll"

"What!?" you beamed, pulling away from his hold and grabbing his face in your palms, "You're not- but you're-"

His whole frame softened, "I'm not here to say goodbye, Y/n. I'm not going anywhere"

"Oh god" you gasped.

"Come on, come here" Bucky chuckled softly, bringing you back into his hold, "I'm staying here. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. You're the most badass woman I know and I managed to break you"

"I love you, Buck" 

"I love you more, Y/n" he sighed, "I'll make everything right, I promise"

"Oh, fuck" you breathed out relieved, "Just do whatever you want, I don't care. You're here. That's all that matters."

"And we also need to teach you to fight-" he added, "For real. And find a way for you to take those goddamn shackles off in case this happens again"

"Tony won't be too happy about it" you laughed.

"Fuck if I care-" Bucky said strenly, pointing at you, "Next time, you need to be able to stop me. And fast"

"Maybe it won't happen again"

"Maybe not" Bucky nodded, "But if it does, we need to be ready"

"Thank you" you said, "I know I didn't play this right. I know I literally dismissed everything that you must have gone through today. I'm sorry"

"You don't get to be sorry" Bucky stopped you, "Not after-"

"Then you don't get to, either!"

"Meh" he shrugged, "We'll see"

"Bucky!"

"I love you" he laughed, bending down to pick you up. He planted his hands on the back of your thighs, picking you up with ease and walking you over to the bed. You plopped back against the fluffy mattress with a huff, and giggled as he crawled his way on top of you. Instantly, his lips met yours. It was exhilarating, the kind that made your chest ache. You moaned against his lips as love transpired through his touch. It was overwhelming and the first happy tears of the day streamed down your temples as you arched yourself against him.

"I'm so weak for you, fuck" Bucky groaned, his right arm reaching around your back and pressing you against his chest. "You're everything" he added as he kissed his way along your neck, "I'm all yours forever, Y/n. I love you too much"

"I'm here, baby" you moaned, hiding your face into his shoulder, "You're mine, Bucky. All mine."

His lips didn't leave your body as he pushed himself up just enough to be able to reach the buckle of his jeans. The sound made your core ache, and your mouth watered.

There was no patience in his movements. He barely pulled his jeans down to his knees before ridding you of your pajama pants. He lodged himself between your thighs, his mouth instantly back on yours again.

"Come on" you panted, steading your arms against his strong back. Your legs found their way around his frame, ready to pull him closer.

When Bucky guided his hands between your bodies to align the tip of his cock with your opening, you whimpered in anticipation. Agonisingly slow, he trailed his tip along your folds before reaching your clit. With a blissful moan, he reached further up, tapping his cock against your bare cunt a couple of times before returning his attention back to you. 

"I got you, baby" he hummed, pecking your lips. "You ready? Is this ok?"

With eagerness, you nodded and wiggled under his weight, your pussy aching for him. "Yes, yes"

When you felt his cock push past your folds, you moaned out loud, your voice cracking with the pure pleasure that took over your being.

He eased himself in, going all the way until he all but knocked the breath out of you, and he stopped. Bucky reached down to kiss you again, his cock motionless, balls deep inside of you.

He bit down on your lip and you giggled.

"Felt your pussy clench around me, doll" he laughed, "You're good to me"

"You may be all mine, Buck, but I'm all yours too"

"Holy shit" he panted, shaking his head in disbelief. It was as if you weren't real. He'd have pinched himself, but if this was a dream, he really did not want to wake up. So he kept going.

Nibbling at the skin of your neck, he started to pull himself out of you. The slow pace was driving you insane. Your need grew so strong you felt everything. His breath, the way his hair tickled your chin, his strong around around your shoulders, his massive thighs rubbing against yours, every small vein along his cock that drove you closer and closer to the sweetest bliss you had ever known. 

He got you all worked up at an agonisingly slow pace, before his thrusts became more and more aggravated. You moaned with each thrust despite your struggles to keep quiet.

"You know how much I love hearing you, doll" Bucky shook his head as he drove himself back inside of you all the way, "Moan for me"

"Fuck, ok" you gasped, and closed your eyes as you started to fall apart. You gripped the bed sheets into your hands and pulled as he kept fucking you, deep and hard.

"You're so good, baby" he groaned, "So, so good for me"

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, fervently sucking deep, maroon marks all ice your skin. Gutural grounds betrayed his air of self control as a plethora of curse words escaped his lips. "Taking me so fucking well. I can't keep going like this, you're too fucking tight-"

"Cum, baby" you encouraged, voice low and tender as you spoke against his ear, "Cum for me"

"Don’t have to tell me twice" he chuckled.

His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular, as his eyes flew closed. You missed the blue of his eyes, but his mouth was slightly agape as he panted his way to an orgasm.

His chest heaved against yours, "How do you feel so fucking good?" Bucky cursed, eyes still closed as he barely managed to mumble his words between the numerous grunts of pleasure that forced their way out of his throat.

You gave him no answer, instead just clung to him tighter, "Fuck, Bucky, I'm close-"

"Come on" he encouraged, hurrying to rub your clit. His fingers found your bud in an instant, working experienced, familiar circles that almost drove you over the edge. "Cum with me, ok?"

You nodded, gathering your lips between your teeth. He kept fucking you, harder and faster until he had turn limp under his weight. You came as his name rolled off your lips, and he followed seconds after, pumping his juices deep inside your pussy. 

You felt his absolute pleasure as he breathed heavily against your shoulder. He kept going until you were both spent, and then fell down beside you. 

"Bucky-" you whined, turning over and curling into his side, the lack of contact making you more needy than ever.

"Yes, darling?" he panted, tapping your chin.

"Nothing. I just love you"

"Love you too, doll" he huffed, spinning you around so you laid on your back.

He effortlessly helped you out of your shirt and plopped down on top of you, his head resting on your bare chest. His warm, right hand cupped your breast as he closed his eyes. He wrapped himself around you, "Hold me" he muttered, "please"

"Always, Bucky" you said, engulfing him in the tightest hold you could muster. Only then did you feel him calm down completely, and there was nothing in the world you could ever ask for.

-

If you liked it, please reblog and tell me what you thought? :)

[imaginedisish]

I Think We’re Alone Now (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (The Umbrella Academy)

A/N: BOY AM I MAD. SO this got deleted...presumably because @staff is trash and someone was like “EW SHE’S WRITING FOR A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD!” News flash AIDAN GALLAGHER IS A YEAR BELOW ME IN HIGH SCHOOL. I AM A JUNIOR. HE IS A SOPHOMORE. I JUST TURNED 17. HE IS TURNING 16 IN A FEW MONTHS....IM NOT SOME CREEPY CHILD PEDOPHILE. AND YA KNOW WHAT, THERE IS NOTHING SEXUAL ABOUT THIS IMAGINE! It is PURE FLUFF, and Five and the reader are BOTH 17 IN THIS AU!! I AM NOT SEXUALIZING HIM IN ANY WAY HOLY CRAP. Wow...I’m clearly mad...um...sorry?? I’m just honestly exhausted from my dance competition today. I WON FIRST OVERALL THOUGH...SO YAY! I might write a small headcanon for tonight...but I’m so tired...I might have to take a short break from writing until Sunday, since I’m competing at this competition all weekend. I’ll keep everyone updated. So, for now, here’s a repost of I Think We’re Alone Now...enjoy

Summary: You and Five are seventeen, and have just started dating, but you feel the need to hide your relationship from the rest of the Hargreeves. One night, you decide to sneak into Five’s room, and chaos somewhat ensues…

Warnings: MEGA FLUFFFFFFF AHHhhhh! Language, awkward reference to sex from Luther bc Luther is Luther…smh Luther. 

Word Count: 2,883

Stars twinkle brightly above you, dancing whimsically in the dark night sky. The crisp autumn breeze passes through you, sending a chill down your spine. You shiver as you stare up at the brick building in front of you. Your heart begins to beat rapidly as you contemplate what is was you were about to do. You were going to sneak into Five’s room.

Five had told you, “It’s the second window from the left, south side of the Academy, third floor. Come around 9:30, okay?” No matter how nervous you were about the matter, you simply couldn’t say no.

 You knew you’d have to be discrete, since the rest of the Hargreeves were unaware of your relationship with Five. They knew you were close friends with him; you were friends with the entire family, especially since they were helping you develop your power, levitation. However, because you had grown so close with the family, you and Five agreed that his siblings couldn’t find out about your relationship. 

In truth, there was no ‘known’ force stopping you and Five from being together. You were both 17, you were both supers, and you were both extremely similar. You liked the same music: David Bowie, Arctic Monkeys, Arcade Fire, and The Strokes. You were both unbelievably witty, as you constantly bounced remarks and comebacks off of one another. Most importantly, you liked each other. In fact, you thought there was a chance you could love the boy. 

But still, you had agreed with Five that no one could know. Maybe it was the fear of judgement that created the secret, or possibly the fear of disapproval. You knew that Five’s siblings had developed a liking to you, as you had essentially become a part of the family, but you weren’t sure if they would like you as Five’s girlfriend.

So, over the past month, as opposed to going on dates like normal couples do, you and Five had snuck around the city together, going on dates to Griddy’s, and having picnics in the park. Sometimes you two secretly hid away in his room, chatting and listening to music. You hated hiding things from Alison, Diego, Luther and Klaus, but as of right now it seemed as though it had to be done. 

A cold breeze snaps you back to reality. The wind begins to pick up again, grabbing at your green, turtle neck sweater. You pull at your sweater, softly pressing it down against your body as your hair begins to take flight next. You groan in annoyance, wanting to be inside with Five instead of out in the cold.

You take a deep breath. I can do this, You think to yourself, yanking up the right sleeve of your sweatshirt, and then nervously scratching your forearm. While you were growing better at controlling your abilities, you weren’t always able to hold them for an extraneous period of time. Levitating yourself was also something that challenged you. More often than not, you would usually fall once you were around four feet in the air. 

Obviously, that was nowhere near enough for a journey up the side of the Academy. The Academy was massive, and it’s size still amazed you, regardless of the fact that you had been here millions of times before. 

You search the ground for a pebble, so you could let know Five you had arrived in a more romantic way, as opposed to sending him a text message. You quickly find a perfectly smooth, grey, round pebble next to your feet. You pick up the pebble and aim towards Five’s window. With a light throw and a tap, the pebble reaches Five’s window. The action was a bit “Romeo and Juliet,” (minus the double suicide at the end, of course), but it was fitting in the moment.

Seconds later, a pair of dark blue eyes meet your own. Five smirks at first, but his smile quickly widens, almost as if the longer he stared at you, the happier he became. Your heart flutters in your chest, and you smile back. He begins to crack open the window, his bangs falling in front of his eyes in the process. 

“Come on up,” Five says loud enough for you to understand him, but low enough for no one else to hear him. You nod your head, swallowing harshly, nerves rushing through your body. 

You close your eyes, imagining yourself floating in the air. Slowly, your feet lift up from the concrete. The wind swirls around you, helping you grow higher. You open your eyes, noticing that you were just one floor away from where Five’s room resided. You push the air down with the palms of your hands, and you levitate up to the next level. 

I did it, I actually did it, You think to yourself, pride swelling in your gut as you finally reach Five’s window. After so much tiring training, and so much effort, you were finally able to fly. 

There was Five, his smile growing wider now that you were face to face. His piercing blue eyes twinkle in the moonlight, just as the stars had been. No, in fact…his eyes were more brilliant than the stars. Stars held so much importance, serving as guides for the lost, wish granters for those who longed for something more…but that was what Five was for you. You didn’t need the metaphorical presence of a constellation. You already had that, wrapped up in the package of a 17 year old boy that you were growing to love. 

He extends a hand out to you, inviting you inside. “Grab my hand, I’ve got you. You won’t fall, I promise.” He says. You fly closer to him in response, lifting your arm towards Five as he takes your hand in his. 

However, just as you had been doing so well, a sensation of weakness overcomes you. You feel yourself beginning to lose control as you attempt to change your position, as to fly into the room horizontally. 

“Shit,” You mutter, your eyes searching Five’s in fear. “I don’t think I can control this any longer,” Your voice is shaky, and your entire body begins to tremble. You had never flown for this long, and it was becoming too much to handle. 

“Yes you can, (Y/N),” Five says, squeezing your hand tighter in his own. He tugs on your hand slightly, helping you get a bit farther inside the room. At this point, your shoulders are through the window, but that was it. Thoughts race around your mind as your powers weaken even further. 

Suddenly, the pressure you normally feel between yourself and the air around you begins to fade away. 

“Five!” You scream, as you feel yourself starting to fall. You grab onto the windowsill, attempting to hold yourself up. Five grabs onto your arms, pulling you quickly, yet carefully into his room. With one final pull from Five, you fall onto the floor of the room. 

Five drops down to where you fell, reaching out his arms to help you stand up. “Are you okay?” He asks, concern prominently filling his voice as you stand to the ground with his help. 

You take a second to catch your breath. “I’m fine, just a bit shaken up is all,” You say, smiling lightly. “And I’m much better now…” You pause, a bit nervous to finish your sentence. “You know, since I’m with you.” 

Five smiles widely. “That was cheesy, but I like it, and only like it because I like you.” Your heart does a back flip in your chest at the sound of his words. Now that things have calmed down a bit, you recognize how close you are to Five. It feels as though you’re an inch away from Five’s face, since neither of you had moved from where he had helped you stand up. 

“You can’t call me cliche or cheesy if you’re saying things like that,” You state sarcastically, crossing your arms in protest. Five steps a bit closer, uncrossing your arms as he takes your hands in his. He was never like this with anyone else. He was usually so cold, so distant, so sarcastic with his siblings. But with you, Five was kind, sweet, and overall an entirely different person. You two could sit on the edge of his bed, listening to music for hours, his fingers carefully combing through your hair.  The only time either of you got up was to change the record that was spinning on the turntable in the left corner of Five’s room.

Five takes another step closer to you. He studies your face for a bit, his eyes often landing on your lips. This makes you a bit nervous, since you two hadn’t kissed yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God, did you want to. It was more or less that you were scared. You had never kissed anyone before, and quite honestly, this was your first ‘real’ relationship. You didn’t want the kiss to be bad, and you especially didn’t want to disappoint Five. 

With one more step, Five becomes so close to your face that his breath tickles your nose a bit. He looks deeply into your eyes. “Can I just kiss you already?” Five asks, smirking a bit. 

Your heart practically thumps out of your chest as you nod your head. Shit, this is it, You think to yourself. 

 Suddenly, Five’s lips come crashing down on your own. His lips are warm, and surprisingly sweet, moving slowly against yours. You hum a bit, beginning to feel more comfortable. Five smiles against your lips before pressing another soft kiss onto them. 

Then, to your dismay, Five pulls away from you, leaving a slightly cold sensation where he had once been. You wanted more, but you knew you would just have to wait for the next time you had the opportunity to kiss Five. 

Five grins a bit, his hands still holding yours. “You’re absolutely incredible, (Y/N).” Heat quickly rushes to your cheeks, and you can feel yourself becoming red. Five laughs at your new color, his dark, chocolate bangs bouncing against his forehead in the process. 

“Don’t laugh!” You jokingly reprimand. 

“Too bad, I already did. You’re just…” Five pauses a bit, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. “…well you’re cute when you get all frazzled like that,” Five mumbles, hoping you can’t hear him as he lets go of your hands and walking over to one of his many bookshelves. He pulls out a record from the shelf. He picked out one of your favorite records, ‘Bookends’ by Simon and Garfunkel. 

“Is that new? I didn’t think you had Bookends,” You question. 

Five can’t help but smirk. “I may have gotten it because of you,” He says softly, walking over to brown turntable in the corner. He takes the record out of it’s sleeve, and carefully places it on the turntable. He turns the machine on, and the record begins to spin. He slowly allows the needle to come down on the record, and “Bookends Theme,” begins to play. 

There were no lyrics to the song, yet there was something so romantic about the incredibly short melody. Maybe it was the perfect plucking of the guitar strings, or maybe it was simply the chord progression itself. Regardless, the song made your heart flutter in your chest, more than it already was. Five walks over to his bed, and takes a seat on the edge. He pats the spot next to him, inviting you to sit with him. You smile, and walk over to the bed. 

As you sit down, Five instantly raps an arm around your waist. Your head rests against Five’s shoulder, and you close your eyes. You never wanted this moment to end. Everything seemed so absolutely perfect. 

Five began to lean back towards the bed, and you followed him, your back eventually crashing down onto the bed. You push yourself up farther so your feet are no longer hanging off the bed, and Five does the same. Five wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your eyes now struggle to stay open, as you hear the sound of sleep calling your name. You allow yourself to give in, closing your eyes tightly. 

You’re still awake as ‘Old Friends’ begins to play. The song is soft and calm. You listen closely to Five’s heart beat, which in contrast with the song is incredibly loud and fast. You open your eyes, looking up at Five. 

“Are you okay? Your heart is practically beating out of your chest,” You say, concern heavy in your voice, picking up your head slightly to get a better look at Five’s face. Five’s piercing blue eyes find yours. 

He swallows harshly. “I’m fine, it’s just,” He pauses for a second, contemplating his words as he looks up at the ceiling above. “Having you here with me, like this, I’m nervous…I guess…” Five trails off. “Having you here is exciting, it’s special.”

You smile resting your head back down on his chest. You close your eyes again, feeling at peace. “Hey Five?” You whisper. 

“Yeah, (Y/N)?” Five responds. 

“I like you, a lot,” You say, a smile spreading across your face. 

“I-,” 

Then, abruptly, Five is cut off by a loud knock at the door. You and Five practically jump up from where you had been laying down. 

“Five! Turn your music off. It’s too late for this shit!” You hear Diego call out from the other side of the door. You and Five say nothing as Five rushes over to the record player to turn the music off. “Also, did you take my comb again?”

“No I didn’t take your fucking comb, Diego!” Five shouts back, rolling his eyes. 

“I don’t believe you,” Diego says angrily. “I’m coming in to find it!”

“Shit!” Five mutters, his eyes widening with fear. 

“What are we going to do?” You ask as the knob of the door twists, and the door creeks open. There’s nowhere to hide. You’re absolutely screwed. 

Diego steps through the door, his eyes instantly landing on you. “Five, what’s (Y/N) doing in your room at 10 o’clock at night?” His eyes deeply cut through Five’s soul. Five takes a deep breath, preparing himself to explain the truth to Diego. 

“Well, um, you see-,” 

Klaus pops his head through the door. “Where did the Simon and Garfunkel go? I was having a good-,” Klaus stops talking as his eyes land on you. “Uh oh looks like we’ve go two troublesome teens on our hands, now don’t we?” Klaus cackles like a hyena.

Five scoffs. “Don’t you have some ouija board to be talking to right about now?” Five says, annoyed, taking a step towards Klaus. 

Klaus crosses his arms against his chest. “You know what, just for that,” Klaus cups his hands, bringing them next to his mouth as if he was going to call a group of children to dinner. “Luther! Allison! Clean up on aisle ‘teenage love’! Immediate assistance required! Thank you!” He brings his hands back down, slapping them against the side of his thighs. 

Five responds by showing Klaus his middle finger. 

Seconds later, Luther and Allison are standing at the door. Luther’s jaw drops to the ground, and Alison begins to laugh lightly. 

“Come on, you guys didn’t see this coming?” Allison asks, laughing still.

“Quite honestly, I suppose it was bound to happen eventually,” Klaus agrees. Luther and Diego nod along to Klaus’s point. 

“I mean, do we let them have their privacy?” Diego asks, leaning over to Luther. Luther shrugs his shoulders. 

“I guess so, but clothing stays on! Got it?” Luther commands. Five’s cheeks grow red with embarrassment. 

“No shit Sherlock,” Five says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, let’s leave them alone, boys,” Allison says, pushing her brothers out of the room. 

“But I wanted to babysit!” Klaus exclaims, and you can’t help but let out a laugh. Allison is the last person out. She shuts the door behind her. 

“I’m so sorry about that,” Five says, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” You say, a smile spreading across your face. Five lays back down, and you follow suit, reverting back to how you and Five had been laying down before. You rest your head on Five’s chest, his heart still beating just as quickly as it had been before. 

“So before, you didn’t get to finish what you were saying,” You say to Five. Suddenly, his heart begins to beat faster. 

He takes a deep breath. “Well,” He pauses, “I like you too, (Y/N).” Five responds. You can’t see his face, but you know he’s smiling. “I like you a lot. In fact, I think I might like you more than anything else on this planet.” His heart is thumping wildly against his chest now. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers combing gently through your hair. 

“I like being here,” You whisper softly. 

“I like having you here,” Five responds. You can’t help but smile. You close your eyes yet again, falling asleep in Five’s arms. 

[danfanciesphil]

A spooky prompt where one of them ends up possessed? I leave the rest to you babe

this excites me!!

I'm gonna do the Supernatural version of possession as im a massive spn nerd fan hope that’s cool!

xx

Prompts are temporarily closed for the time being! Thank you all for your submissions, I’ll be posting the ones I have in my inbox asap!

If it were anyone but Phil, Dan might never have noticed a difference. 

Dan can be a little self-involved at the best of times, so if one of his other friends changed their manner of speaking, or began dressing in an unusual way, or stopped eating as much, or did anything that even slightly deviated from their normal routine, Dan’s not sure he would pick up on it. 

But he spends every day with Phil. He knows every little thing about the guy, from the side of his mouth he starts brushing with the toothbrush first, to what theme song he’s most likely to be humming when he first wakes up. 

It’s honestly a little creepy, how well he knows Phil Lester. He finds himself having to play it down in front of other people, because they would undoubtedly find it more than a little odd. After all, it’s not like he and Phil are married. They’re just close friends. 

So when Phil doesn’t come back for almost three hours after he told Dan he would one evening, after a meet up with his brother in town, it’s not all that surprising that Dan begins to worry. 

He texts Phil three times. He calls him. He leaves two voicemails. 

It does nothing to quell Dan’s anxiety that Phil doesn’t respond to any of them. 

Eventually, when Phil does roll in at around nine in the evening, he expects a fantastical story and a long, detailed explanation of how Phil had been roped into a weird drama with some stranger or other, or how he’d clumsily dropped his phone into the Thames. 

Instead, Phil just gives some vague answers to Dan’s questions, rolls his eyes at Dan’s ‘dramatic overreaction’ and slinks off to his room. He doesn’t re-emerge for the whole night, even though they’d made plans to watch the next episode of Bake Off together. 

After that, it only gets stranger. 

Phil begins leaving the house for unexplained, prolonged periods, never bothering to tell Dan where he’s going. He barely speaks to Dan when he is around, and there’s something odd about his voice when he does. It still sounds like him, but the lexicon is wrong, like he’s forgotten how he used to construct sentences. He sounds too formal now, like he’s speaking with a total stranger.

Dan begins to worry that he’s hiding something big. Perhaps something has happened, some family tragedy that’s preoccupying his brain. But Dan can’t help but think that, if this were the case, Phil would surely tell him. 

They tell each other everything. They haven’t kept a secret from each other in years - it’s just easier that way. Besides, they’ve gotten to a point in their friendship where they’re pretty sure there’s nothing that could tear them apart. 

One night, Dan makes dinner, and keeps it in the oven on a low heat until Phil gets home from wherever he is. 

As soon as the door clicks, Dan jumps off the sofa, ambushing Phil in the hallway before he can disappear into his room for the night. 

“I made spaghetti.” Dan blurts at him as Phil removes his shoes. 

From the way Phil reacts to the information, it seems as though he’s never even heard of his favourite dish. “Oh.” 

“Come and eat.” Dan commands, walking back towards the kitchen before he can listen to whatever excuse he’s sure Phil is about to make. 

Phil follows after a while, a bored expression on his face as Dan hands him a hot, steaming plate of spaghetti bolognese. Phil stares down at the food, his nose crinkling in distaste. 

“I didn’t put cheese in, so don’t bitch at me.” Dan says with a chuckle. Phil raises an eyebrow, and takes the fork Dan hands to him. 

He follows Dan out to the dining room table, sitting down after some hesitation, probably because he’s not sure what else to do. 

Dan looks at him for a moment, then decides to just try and be normal. He digs in, winding the spaghetti around his fork and pushing it into his mouth. It’s delicious, he must say. He’s no Gordon Ramsay, but Dan knows how to make a damn good bolognese. 

After a while, Dan glances up at Phil to see if he’s enjoying it too. The fork lies motionless beside Phil’s plate, his food untouched. 

Dan pauses, registering this with some concern. “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry.”

Phil shrugs, glancing around the room, disinterested. “Guess not.” 

Dan places his fork down, staring at him. “Have you even eaten anything today?”

Phil smirks at him. It’s an unusual expression to see on his face. “Why would I eat if I’m not hungry?”

Dan just stares more, perplexed. “To keep you alive, for starters?” Phil laughs, shaking his head pityingly. “Besides, you love food. You’re a self-admitted ‘secret eater’. Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

Phil grins, unnaturally wide. For some reason, it sends the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck upright. “On the contrary, I’ve never, never felt this good.” 

“Right.” Dan mutters, turning his attention back to his plate. 

He picks up his fork again, at a loss for what more to say. His own appetite has dwindled though, and he just twirls the fork around, playing with loose strands of pasta. What once seemed like a delicious, sauce-covered carb-fest, now seems like a lukewarm, slimy pile of congealing worms. He lowers his fork again, disgusted. 

He’s just about to push his plate away, when he sees something move. He peers closely into the depths of the spaghetti, trying to work out if he’s hallucinating. No, there’s definitely something moving in there. 

The thought of it turns his stomach, and Dan pales. He peers closer, trying to see into the mass of spaghetti. 

All of sudden, he realises that it’s all moving, every strand, all of it wriggling and squirming about, just like-

“Holy shit,” Dan cries, clapping a hand over his mouth. He’s seconds away from puking. “Is that-”

“Wow,” Phil says, tutting. Dan glances up; he’s reclining on his chair, tilting backwards a little on the hind legs, watching him with that same smirk. “No wonder I’m not hungry. You’re trying to serve me worms.” 

Dan shoves his plate away, terrified. What the fuck is going on? 

“Is this a fucking nightmare?” He asks, feeling dizzy with nausea. 

Phil cackles, scooting his chair a little closer to Dan, moving around the side of the table so that they’re sat together. 

“You know, in a way I guess it kind of is, Dan.” Phil tells him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Even through the fabric of his t-shirt Dan can feel how cold he is - unnaturally so. He flinches away, scooting backwards. 

It doesn’t make sense, but he feels scared of Phil right now. Why on earth would he be scared of his own best friend?

“What’s- what’s going on, Phil?” Dan asks, eyes flicking left and right, searching for an escape. 

“Oh, aren’t you sweet.” Phil says, picking up Dan’s discarded fork and licking the tines clean. It makes Dan shudder; how can he do that, knowing it was just covered in worms? “Philly’s not really able to answer right now, I’m afraid.” 

Dan balks at him, wondering if Phil has lost his mind. 

He glances down at the plate of spaghetti, and sees no trace of the wriggling worms from a moment ago. Which makes him wonder if it’s him that’s losing his mind. 

Phil’s left hand is splayed out on the table and his right grips the fork by its handle. In one, fast, decisive movement, he brings the fork swishing through the air, stabbing the four prongs right into the back of his own left hand. 

“What the fuck!” Dan exclaims, jumping forwards to grab Phil by his wrist. 

It’s too late though, the fork is already penetrating Phil’s flesh, pushed in so deep that Dan wonders if he’ll be able to pull it free. Blood bubbles to the surface at once, dribbling out from the holes into which the metal tines are wedged, trickling over his hand and onto the table beneath. 

“Phil, fuck, why did you-” Dan cries, flapping his own hands because he has no idea what to do. “What should we-”

Belatedly, Dan realises that Phil hasn’t made the slightest noise throughout all of this. He hasn’t so much as whimpered in pain. Warily, Dan drags his eyes up to meet Phil’s, and he immediately jumps backwards, knocking over his chair in his haste to get away. 

Phil’s eyes are jet black. From corner to corner, they are completely, opaquely onyx. Two black holes staring out from beneath his windswept fringe. 

He cocks his head to one side, smiling. He appears to be observing Dan, nothing more. 

Dan’s gaze jumps from between the fork sticking out of his skin, to the terrifying lack of Phil’s usual Bambi-blue irises in those monstrous eyes. 

“Your eyes...” Dan chokes out, feeling his own eyes start to sting in fear. 

All of a sudden, his chair is upright, facing Phil, and Dan is shoved down into it by some unseen force. He tries to move, to wriggle even, but he can’t. It’s as if he’s tied to it somehow. 

Phil pouts in mock-sadness, his lower lip jutting out, and he nods. “Scary isn’t it, Dan?” He says, then smirks at Dan’s expression. “Phil’s eyes are a little prettier than mine, I suppose.” 

He blinks then, and suddenly Phil’s eyes are normal again, that same baby blue peeping out as if it had never left. 

Dan stares at him, trying to piece together what he’s hearing. “You’re... not Phil.” 

The not-Phil smiles, toothily, and winks at Dan in a way Phil never would. 

“Caught on at last.” 

“Who are you?” Dan manages to choke out, though he’s not sure he wants to know. 

The not-Phil sighs, leaning back in his chair. “More a question of what, really.”

Dan waits, not trusting himself to speak. 

“I’m a demon, Dan.” It says, watching him carefully.

Dan struggles not to scream. His heart pounds incessantly. The demon smiles. 

“You’re possessing Phil,” Dan deduces, swallowing around his tight throat in terror. 

“Bingo,” the demon says. “He’s a very comfy vessel, too. Tight. Warm. Soft.” 

“Get out of him.” Dan spits, anger rippling over his skin. “Leave him alone. He’s never done anything wrong.” 

The demon places a hand over Phil’s heart - the one with the fork still jutting out - and sighs. “So sweet. So caring for your bestie.” The demon licks its lips, surveying Dan silently. “He’s in here, you know. He can hear what you’re saying. He’s been screaming at you to notice I’ve taken control for days.” 

“I’ll get you out, Phil.” Dan says, his voice raising. “I will, I’ll do something, I’ll-”

“Shh, shh.” The demon interrupts, and Dan’s mouth clamps shut of its own accord, not listening to him as he tries to prise it open. “All that gushy stuff is so boring. And you’ve just started to capture my interest, Danny.”

He releases Dan’s mouth, at last, and Dan gasps, rolling his jaw around. “What do you want from him?” 

The demon makes a ‘hmm’ noise, tilting back on his chair again. “Good question. You see, the thing is Dan, us demons are getting kind of... bored, as of late. There’s just not a whole lot to do nowadays. People are smarter. They know not to practise witchcraft, or use ouija boards. Sure, you get some dumb ones now and then, but mostly it’s just kind of...” The demon flaps his hands, then shrugs. “Dull.” 

“So you’re possessing a random, innocent guy for the kicks?” 

“No,” the demon sighs. “This is not a random decision, Dan. I chose your best friend very carefully. I did a lot of research before entering him. I don’t take these possessions lightly, you know.”

“So you did it because, what, he’s YouTube famous?” Dan asks. “There are tons of YouTubers. Plenty who deserve a demon inside them more than Phil. Why didn’t you climb inside Sam Pepper? I doubt anyone would even notice.” 

The demon cackles again, and Dan cringes. “How do you know Sam Pepper isn’t already possessed?”

Dan hadn’t considered this. He shrugs the thought away, deciding he can think about that later. 

“It’s not just because he’s a YouTuber.” The demon says, smiling wickedly. “Though it’s to do with that. It’s about your fans, Dan. Both of your fans. They’re so committed to you. They’d do anything either of you would say. They cling to your every word, they throw themselves at your feet, they spend thousands of dollars to wear your names on their clothes, or to play the games you invent, or to send you a message that they know you’ll see.” 

Dan listens, despising the way the demon is framing this. “You make it sound like Phil and I are the leaders of some kind of- of-”

“Cult?” The demon supplies, grinning too wide. Dan says nothing, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, that is sort of how it seems, isn’t it? And oh boy do I love a good cult.” 

It’s sickening, watching this come out of Phil’s mouth, but Dan forces himself to pay attention, to act like it’s not his best friend’s face with his eyes closed in pleasure at the idea of thousands of people being manipulated into mass suicide. 

“When cults get it right, they’re just... delicious to watch.” The demon says, licking along Phil’s lower lip. “All those people, willingly trundling to their own deaths just because of a few cleverly worded speeches, and a dash of false hope...” The demon’s eyes open, flashing black for the briefest of moments. “That’s the most dangerous thing in the world, you know, Dan. Hope.” 

“Our fans are not going to do whatever Phil tells them to do.” Dan says firmly. “You’d have to be an idiot to listen to a fucking YouTuber when making life decisions. Our fans are not stupid. They know that Phil is just a regular guy who films stupid things in his bedroom.” 

The demon laughs, that pitying look in his eyes again when he looks at Dan. 

“Oh Danny,” he sighs, the nickname making Dan’s skin prickle. “You underestimate their devotion to you. Besides, it’s already working.”

“What?” Dan asks, paling. 

“I started out small, of course.” The demon shrugs, getting out his - Phil’s - phone. “Tweeted some things. Asked them for a few favours. Look, here’s one I did today.”

He holds up the phone for Dan to see. There are two tweets on the screen, from AmazingPhil’s account. 

@AmazingPhil Hey guys! Thanks for sending all the pics of your cute dogs yesterday! I have a different request for today o.O [1/2]

@AmazingPhil Take your dogs for a walk somewhere you’ve never been! The quieter the better. Bonus round: if you see a stranger, make friends! Everyone wants to be talked to! Good luck! [2/2]

Dan’s mouth falls open, and his stomach plunges to his knees. “Oh my God. The average age of our fans are fourteen to seventeen.” 

The demon giggles, nodding excitedly. “How many teenage girls do you think will have gone missing by tomorrow?” 

“Fuck,” Dan whispers.

“I’ve done some other stuff too. Brainwashing fans on the street, encouraging them to explore old abandoned houses, or wander into dangerous parts of town, that kind of thing.” The demon sighs happily. “It’s going well, I think I’m getting the hang. I’ve worked out how to sound just like him! I’m thinking of making a video tomorrow asking for some help taking down a few of the more popular YouTubers. You know, spamming their channels with hate, spreading rumours about them sexually assaulting people, all that stuff.”

“That’s so evil.” Dan says, horrified. 

The demon looks at him oddly. “Uh, I’m a demon, Dan. Evil’s in the description.” 

“I’ll stop you.” Dan whispers, his eyes glistening. He means every word, though. “I don’t care if it kills me, I’ll stop you.” 

“Aw,” the demon says, pitying. “No you won’t, Danny. Cos I’m gonna keep you under wraps until I need you! And when I do, I can keep you from saying anything I don’t want you to, like this!” 

Dan’s mouth clamps itself shut again. He struggles, trying to open it, but it’s useless. The demon giggles, releasing him. 

“Then Phil will stop you,” Dan hisses, his jaw clicking as it unsticks itself. “You said yourself he’s in there with you. He can fight it. He can stop you from doing this.” 

The demon stands then, a slow smile spreading over Phil’s lips as it crowds into Dan’s space. Phil’s hands press into Dan’s shoulders as Phil’s face moves towards his. 

In a different context, Dan doesn’t know how this might make him feel. Being close to Phil, in a physical sense, has always been confusing. He used to think that it was because his mind didn’t know how to separate close friendship from romantic feeling, but recently he’s been wondering if it’s something more than that. 

Perhaps the real reason Dan never allows himself to linger too long in a hug with Phil, or to keep their arms linked past a brief thirty seconds or so, or let Phil sleep on his shoulder during long flights or train rides is more to do with the fact that Phil’s eyes are a sharp, penetrating cobalt blue. Perhaps it’s because Phil smells like cinnamon buns and cherry blossom trees. Perhaps it’s because Phil is witty, and he’s kind and loyal. Perhaps it’s because he’s intimidatingly clever, and everyone loves him the second they meet him in a way Dan envies. 

Suddenly, there’s a weight piling into Dan’s lap, and he holds his breath when he sees his best friend’s figure towering above him, one knee either side of Dan’s legs on the chair. 

He swallows, forgetting for a moment that this is not Phil, not really. His hands move instinctively to Phil’s hips. Then, Phil’s eyes flash black. Dan’s hands snatch themselves away. 

The demon laughs. 

“So you think Philly can fight his way out? Honestly, it’s kind of sweet how you two think of one another.” The demon says, smirking cruelly as he stares straight into Dan’s eyes. “I can read all of Phil’s thoughts, you know. D’you wanna know one of his deepest secrets, Dan?”

“Get. Out.” Dan says, wishing he could move to push the demon off him.

The demon ignores him, grinning again. “He loves you, Dan.” 

Dan’s heart stutters. His mouth parts. He tries not to react, because it’s what the demon wants, but he can’t help it. 

“He loves you with every inch of his poor little heart.” The demon continues, sighing. “A shame really. He’ll never get to tell you that himself.” 

“You’re lying.” Dan says, his eyes already stinging with tears. 

The demon shakes its head, slowly. “Cross my heart! Well, Phil’s heart. He’s loved you since he met you. Since you kissed him on the Manchester Eye, all timid and bashful.” The demon reaches out to pinch Dan’s cheek, hard. “Adorable.” 

“Phil,” Dan whispers, looking into the eyes he knows so well, trying to see through them into the depths of Phil’s soul, to find the piece of him still lurking inside. “Phil, I didn’t know...”

“Ugh!” The demon cries out. “What did I say about the gross schmaltzy stuff? Do you want me to clamp your mouth shut, Dan?” 

The demon climbs off his lap, rolling its eyes, and releases the invisible bonds tying Dan to the chair. Dan immediately stands, dumbstruck by the use of his limbs again, not sure what to do now that he has them back. 

The demon sighs at him, folding its arms. “Well, fun’s over I guess. Wanna be locked in your room till I need you? In the bathroom?” 

Dan takes a step towards him, not sure of his plan. He crowds into the demon’s space, making it frown in confusion. 

“Phil,” Dan says hurriedly, knowing he only has seconds before the demon clamps his mouth shut again. “I know you’re strong enough to beat this bitch, okay? You’re the best, bravest, most incredible person I’ve ever met. And I love you too. Obviously.”

The demon rolls its eyes dramatically, lifting its hand to do some weird demon magic, but Dan acts fast, slamming his lips into Phil’s before it knows what’s coming. The demon struggles at first, not expecting it, but Dan just kisses and kisses, trying to reach into the depths of Phil’s mind with his own - to use the strange connection that has tethered them to one another for all these years and haul him out of the depths. 

It doesn’t happen right away, but Dan can sense, even as he kisses the cold lips of his best friend - the lips that are so Phil, and yet so not-Phil that it makes his head hurt - that the demon is struggling with something internal. 

He doesn’t push Dan off, though he could, quite easily, were he at full power, Dan is sure. Instead, he seems distracted, muffled noises escaping from his mouth as he battles something unseen. 

Then, so fast it’s a little terrifying, Phil rears back, gasping. He throws his head back, and screams as a viscous stream of black smoke pours out of his mouth and disappears through the ceiling. 

A minute or so passes, Dan watching in alarm, and then Phil collapses onto the floor. Dan throws himself down beside him, taking Phil by the shoulders and trying to shake him awake. 

After a while, Phil blinks sleepily, swimming back into consciousness. 

“Dan?” He croaks.

Dan lets out a laugh of relief, but it comes out more like a sob. “Hey,” he says through his tears, his hand cradling Phil’s face. “Hey, it’s me. Is that you in there, Phil?”

Phil nods, looking exhausted. “What’s- what’s going on?”

Dan pales, realising that Phil has no idea what he’s doing on the floor. Which means... he likely doesn’t remember any of being possessed. 

Or... anything else. 

Dan swallows. It’s not important right now, he tells himself. “Nothing. It’s okay, you’re just... tired. I’m gonna take you to bed, okay?” 

Phil nods, seeming confused, but allows Dan to help him to his feet. 

After some quick, improvised first aid on Phil’s hand (the fork had fallen out somewhere in the midst of the demon exiting Phil’s body, thank God), Dan slings Phil’s bandaged hand over his shoulders. With some stumbles and unsteadiness, they make it to Phil’s room, and Dan tucks him under the covers fully clothed, not prepared to divest him of clothes after everything that just occurred. 

“Okay,” he says, switching off Phil’s bedside light. They’ll talk about it in the morning, Dan tells himself. “Night, then.” 

He turns to the door, sighing. 

“Where are you going?” Phil asks, sounding bewildered. 

Dan turns back towards him, not understanding. “To bed.” 

“You tell me you love me, then want to sleep in your own bed?” Phil asks. 

Dan’s heart skips a beat. What?

“You... remember that?” 

“Pretty hard to forget something that big.” 

“But...” Dan protests, not sure why he’s even arguing at this point. “On the floor just now, you acted like you didn’t know why you were- like you didn’t remember-”

“I only remember bits from the last few days.” Phil says, sounding confused still. “I remember not being able to move my body. Being trapped. I remember shouting at you for help but you couldn’t hear me.”

“Yeah,” Dan whispers, trying to imagine how awful that must have been. “Um-”

“I remember you kissing me.” Phil says then, a smile clear in his voice. 

Dan chuckles, shifting on the spot. “Um, yeah, that er... that happened.” 

“I couldn’t kiss you back though.” Phil tells him, sounding sad. 

Dan clears his throat. “We could... try again, maybe.” Dan cringes at his own words, wishing he wasn’t so bad at this. “I mean, if you want.” 

There’s a silence, and Dan wishes he could hoover the words back up into his mouth. 

“Come here.” Phil says at last, the urgency of it piercing through the darkness. 

Dan goes to him, obediently, clambering under the covers beside him. He lets Phil wrap his arms around his waist, lets himself be pulled in. 

Even in the darkness, there’s no doubt that it’s Phil now, Dan thinks to himself, placing a hand over Phil’s stuttering heart. 

“We should, um, get some protection.” Dan says without thinking. 

Phil laughs awkwardly. “Uh, I mean, sure. I’m kind of tired right now though...”

Dan flushes deeply, covering his face with one hand. God, he’s a twat. 

“No, no, I mean- fuck.” Dan shakes his head, marvelling at his own stupidity. “I mean like, anti-possession stuff. Sage. Little charms. Tattoos, maybe.”

“Oh,” Phil chuckles, “right. Yeah. Okay. Um, why?”

Dan pauses, realising that Phil doesn’t really know what happened, still. 

“Just trust me.” 

Phil leans in then, kissing him softly, sweetly, but so deeply, and with such intensity that it leaves Dan reeling. 

“I do,” Phil tells him, smiling. 

[winkinglester]

Ride of My Life

summary: 'we sat next to each other on a roller coaster and ended up accidentally ditching our friends oops' au

word count: 1.7k

genre: fluff

warnings: swearing. also roller coasters??

a/n: im a slut for au’s so. here. also, feedback is always appreciated!!

Phil’s legs were beginning to ache. It wasn’t his fault he got winded easily; it was just that his friends all hadn’t quit sports and they could handle flight after flight of stairs.

The nearby amusement park was having a half-off day where tickets were ridiculously cheap, so apparently, all of London wanted to spend their day there. Even though it was a hell of a bargain, Phil couldn’t understand why so many people wanted to spend their afternoons in high heat, waiting for a thirty-second ride, just so they could slowly get nauseous. He wasn’t even sure why he had joined his friends today, anyways.

So, that brought Phil to where he was, climbing endless stairs to the top of whatever roller coaster they were riding next. Supposedly, this one made people go unconscious. Great.

“Phil, dude, have you ever ridden this?” Phil’s friend PJ asked. “It’s mental. It goes so fast you forget who you are.” All of Phil’s friends nodded in agreement.

Phil shrugged. “I’ve never ridden this one in particular, but I can imagine.” He wasn’t trying to sound so bitter, but his legs hurt, he wasn’t enjoying himself, and fuck it was hot today. What else could he expect from July?

“You’re totally not ready for this, man,” another one of his friends said, lightly punching his arm. “It’s gonna blow your socks off.”

Phil frowned and looked down at his socks. One blue sock with popsicles and one light green sock with sharks. “I like these socks, I don’t wanna lose them.”

PJ rolled his eyes and laughed. “Come on, the line’s moving.”

The group of boys slowly made their way up the line until they were next. Phil was annoyed to see that the roller coaster sat five people across. Their group had six.

“Shit, who’s alone?”

“We could do four and two, or three and three- “

“Maybe we can- “

“I’ll just ride alone, I really don’t care,” Phil muttered, stepping over to the ‘Single Riders’ sign.

“Are you sure? We can probably figure something out,” PJ said, looking around.

Phil put his hands on PJ’s shoulders and half-smiled. “I don’t mind, Peej, really.”

PJ raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Suit yourself, man.”

It was their turn next, so Phil climbed into the roller coaster. Somehow, he ended up in the front row. He was buckling his seatbelt when someone slid in next to him. Phil looked over nonchalantly. The boy that had just sat down next to him was, surprisingly, as tall as him, which was different. He had brown hair that was starting to curl at the edges, and deep caramel eyes to match. Freckles were peppered across his face, making little constellations here and there. He folded his legs awkwardly under the seat, trying to get comfortable.

“It helps to put your knees like this,” Phil found himself saying to the boy, adjusting his legs so the boy could see.

The boy wiggled into place and smiled at Phil. “Thanks,” he said, a grin that was way too big for his face settling in. Phil immediately wanted to get to know the boy for some reason.

“Uh, you like riding?” Phil asked. “Wait! Oh my god! I meant riding roller coasters!” Phil clapped his hand over his mouth. Good job, Phil, he thought. Scaring people away has always been a skill of yours.

The boy laughed, throwing his head back and almost hitting the roller coaster seat. “I-jesus-yeah. I love roller coasters,” he wheezed. Tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

Phil found himself laughing too, and soon the two boys were sat next to each other, cackling and drawing attention from everyone around them. This was the most fun Phil had had all day.  

The boys talked for another minute, exchanging names and other basic information until the roller coaster began to move. Phil smiled despite himself; he had gotten so lost in conversation with Dan that he had forgotten the ride was about to start.

“Welcome to the Superman,” a deep voice announced. The roller coaster jerked forwards, creaking slightly. Phil felt uneasy, but excited. He looked over at Dan, who was laughing and kicking his feet like a child. Phil smiled.

“…and please keep all loose objects secured. Have a nice ride!” The safety speech finished and the roller coaster began to slowly lurch up the first big drop. Phil felt his stomach flip over once, then twice.

“I hope we don’t die!” Dan said, kicking Phil’s foot lightly. His hands were tight around the protective bar.

“I hope so too,” Phil said, staring at Dan for just a second too long. With that, the ride reached the top of the hill and took off.

--

“Look at your face!” PJ laughed, pulling Phil next to him to view the post-ride pictures. The ride had just ended and holy shit that was fun. Phil couldn’t believe that he had actually enjoyed it.

“Yeah, that’s quite attractive,” Phil muttered distractedly, looking around for Dan. Phil had an ugly scream face, he knew that, but he was more interested in finding his new friend. When he spotted the brunette talking to a pretty blonde, he ignored the pang in his stomach and strolled over.

“Hey, Dan, we were going to ride the Tantrum next, did you want to join us?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. The blonde turned to her friends.

Dan glanced back at the group he was standing with and rolled his eyes. “Yes, please. My friends are great but I would love to ride with someone else.” He lowered his voice. “Steph here grips my arm as if she’s trying not to fall out.” He rolled up his sleeve to show Phil four half-moon shaped dents in his arm. “The acrylic nails are killing me.”

“More like they’re acr-killing you,” Phil joked putting up finger guns. Dan groaned.

“Never mind, I’m not riding anything else with you, that pun was terrible,” he said, hiding his laughter.

Phil nudged his shoulder and led Dan back to his friends. “Everyone, this is Dan.”

--

Dan and Phil exited another ride together, laughing and clutching their stomachs. This was their third- or was it their fourth?- time riding Revenge! and Phil never wanted to stop. Except maybe he did, since he was beginning to feel warnings in his stomach.

Dan was finishing some story about secondary school and cry-laughing. “And when he showed up, the entire class was wearing Shrek masks. I’ve never heard a grown man scream louder.”

Phil snorted. He was beginning to like Dan a lot. He looked over at the boy, who was still laughing. His hair had finally given up, loose curls falling down his face. His skin was flushed from having been upside down so many times, but it just drew more attention to the boy’s tan.  

Dan glanced at Phil and caught him staring, which sent Phil looking in the opposite direction, blushing. The two boys sat down on a nearby bench. Phil could smell funnel cake nearby, and he could hear distant screams of happiness.

“Ah, shit,” Dan sighed.

“What?” Phil asked.

“We both totally ditched our friends, didn’t we?” Dan looked at Phil, eyes twinkling.

“I think we did,” Phil answered, leaning back on the bench. He pulled out his phone to send his group a brief “I’m not dead, don’t worry about me” text and Dan did the same. When Phil set his phone back down, his and Dan’s hands brushed. Cue more blushing.

Relax, Phil, you don’t have a crush on someone you literally met four hours ago, Phil told himself. Even if you spent the whole day with them, can’t stop staring at them, and would gladly make out with them.

“So, who are you? What are you into, besides emo music and stupid memes?” Phil asked.

“I like reading, and writing, and listening to music, and video games.” Dan smiled at Phil. “Any nerdy shit, I’m into it.”

“Me too. Do you like school?” Phil asked, cursing himself for sounding like his mother.

“Hell no,” Dan replied. “Tell me about yourself, Phillip. Favorite color? Three items you’d take to an abandoned island? Got a girlfriend?”

Phil thought for a moment. “Blue or green, probably some cereal, my phone and earbuds, and nope.”

Dan tilted his head. “Why no girlfriend? You’re cute.”

Phil ignored the last comment and looked down. “I like boys, so…”

Dan’s eyes lit up. “Me too!”

Phil felt relief flood through him, for some reason. “Yeah? What’s your type, then?”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Cute boys who spend entire afternoons with me after we just met,” he said.

Phil bit his lower lip, trying to decide between sprinting away at 90 miles per hour and kissing Dan senseless.

He decided on the latter.

Dan’s lips met Phil’s as soon as Phil started leaning towards him. Dan kissed with little pecks, and Phil could feel his smile through his lips. He could only hear Dan’s breath and his own heartbeat as they kissed, keeping track of however long they spent with their lips attached. Dan smelled like coffee and mint, the scent surrounding Phil. His lips were chapped, compared to Phil’s smooth ones, but Phil didn’t really mind since he had sort of wanted to kiss Dan ever since he showed him how to deal with long ass legs. Phil felt Dan’s nose brush against his cheek, and heard Dan laugh nervously. Phil simply responded by putting his hand on Dan’s cheek and deepening the kiss. Dan opened his mouth, allowing Phil’s tongue to slip in smoothly. Dan leaned into Phil some more, kissing as if he would die tomorrow.

After what seemed like hours, the boys finally pulled apart sheepishly.  Phil heard hoots in the distance and turned around to see not only his friends, but Dan’s too, cheering them on.

Dan gave them the finger.

“Come on, lover boy!” PJ yelled. “Your ride’s leaving!”

“I guess I’ll see you around?” Phil suggested, turning back to Dan. Dan grabbed Phil’s phone and quickly tapped in his number.

“If you’re lucky,” he said with a wink.

Phil smiled at Dan for the billionth time that day.

[birlcholtz]

for the better

read it on Ao3 (part of the Zimbits Airport AU-verse) (I would recommend reading this on Ao3, actually, because of the formatting, but it’s here too for convenience) (also let me know if the link doesn’t work? bc i’m not 100% sure about it)

Jack’s been planning this day for a long time now. He even made a Twitter account for it, two months ago, and tweeted occasionally to build up a following (it was easier once he got that little check mark thing next to his handle). He has a few thousand followers, which is enough to get the message out, and he even has his tweet drafted.

The first draft of it was ‘hello everyone, I just wanted you to know that I am bisexual.’ Tater had taken one look at that and vetoed it. With every extra revision Jack suggested (adding an exclamation point, saying ‘you all’ instead of ‘you,’ et cetera, et cetera, et cetera), Tater had still shaken his head. So Jack took it to Georgia.

“I mean... it’s okay,” George had said, furrowing her brow at the screen. “It’s a little terse, though.”

“But I don’t need to say anything else to get the point across, do I?”

“Well, no. But it’s still very detached.”

Still, after a lot of reworking (and, okay, George does scrap that entire thing and make him start from scratch), they come up with something acceptable. Something that Jack might even say is good.

And then it all gets ruined at the last moment.

Monday morning at around ten o’clock (he’s been given the day off from practice to sort everything out), Jack opens up his Twitter account, intending to post the string of tweets that he and George have planned out, but the first thing he sees is a tweet from Kent.

Kent V. Parson @kparse

tired of all the marriage proposals from women, so i’m just gonna say it: i am both gay af and not taking offers of marriage at this time

Kent V. Parson @kparse

#sorrynotsorry for stealing ur thunder @jlzimmermann

Jack sighs and texts Georgia before composing a tweet as well.

Jack Zimmermann @jlzimmermann

disappointed in @kparse for ruining my announcement

Jack Zimmermann @jlzimmermann

he *did* already know i was going to come out as bi today, so this is quite rude

And then he leaves it like that and texts Georgia that he’s already gone ahead with the plan. She still hasn’t replied to the first one, so she’s probably either working out or so exasperated with him that she’s just decided not to reply. He also silences his phone, then texts Bitty, who’s back at Samwell.

Jack: I did it.

Bitty: congratulations!! <3 on twitter?

Jack: Yeah.

Bitty: you seem kind of put out?

Jack: Kent Parson came out before I did.

Bitty: hold on i’m going on twitter rn

Jack waits for a little while, long enough for Bitty to plausibly have read both Kent’s and his tweets, and then sends a text back.

Jack: Very rude of him. Now I can’t even be the first out player in the NHL.

Jack: That’s probably why he did it, to be honest. He likes being first.

Bitty: it might also work well for u, though

Bitty: take away some of the backlash maybe?

Jack: That’s true, but it doesn’t mean I can’t still be annoyed at him.

Bitty: yeah ofc, i would be too

Bitty: anyway i gtg to class so i’ll ttyl, take care of urself today ok?

Jack: Yeah.

Bitty: text me if u need anything, have a good day <3

Jack: You too <3

Bitty: :)

Georgia calls him about half an hour later and outlines the steps that the Falconers’ management are going to take, then promises to text him when they’ve released their statement and makes him promise to take care of himself today, just like Bitty. She also requests that he leave the apartment as little as possible, preferably not at all, so reporters don’t try to corner him in public. No sooner has she said goodbye and hung up than Jack hears knocking on his door. A glance through the peephole reveals it to be Snowy, Tater, and a case of beer, and he opens the door.

“Good job today, Zimmboni,” Tater says as soon as the door opens, shoving the beer into Snowy’s hands so that he can hug Jack. “Poots said to tell you he is proud. He is with trainer, pinched nerve. He will be here soon.”

“Everyone else is scrimmaging, or at least they were when we left,” Snowy adds as Tater releases Jack and steps past him into the apartment. “I don’t know if they saw us leaving and decided to let it go or genuinely didn’t notice.”

“They’re welcome to come over too once practice is over,” Jack says, stepping back to let Snowy in and then shutting the door. “But not before they’ve showered. Also, they should bring their own beer. I don’t have enough.”

Snowy nods. “I’ll text them.” He pulls out his phone and texts the rest of the Falconers, but then checks on something else and bursts out laughing.

“What?”

“Parson started a hashtag.”

“A hashtag?”

“Yup. A fucking hashtag.” Snowy shows Jack his phone screen.

Kent V. Parson @kparse

@jlzimmermann It had to be done. #StealJacksThunder

“Great,” Jack sighs.

“But that’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

Tater pokes his head out of the kitchen. “You are talking about hashtag, yes? Many people are using it.”

“Like who?” Jack asks. “And what are they doing with it?”

“Rob Jeffries from the Schooners did,” Snowy says before Tater can answer. “Jack, just check Twitter for yourself. There’s way too many of these for me to tell you all of them.”

Jack does.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles.

Rob Jeffries @rjeffriesnhl

@jlzimmermann Sorry, man. I’m bi too #StealJacksThunder

Las Vegas Aces @lasvegasaces

Proud of @kparse for starting his own hashtag. The Aces organization supports players no matter their orientation #StealJacksThunder

Aleks Olsen @aleksolsen

maybe not first out LGBTQ+ NHL player in league, but am first on Oilers & officially first out aro/ace NHL player #StealJacksThunder

Providence Falconers @pvdfalconers

The Falconers organization stands with & supports our LGBTQ+ players. Congrats @jlzimmermann for starting this whole thing

Las Vegas Aces @lasvegasaces

@pvdfalconers Excuse you, @kparse came out first

Providence Falconers @pvdfalconers

@lasvegasaces Excuse *you*, it was @jlzimmermann ‘s idea. Don’t try to #StealJacksThunder on our watch!

Besides the team Twitter accounts bickering with each other, it just goes on and on and on— NHL players deciding, on the spur of the moment, to come out on Twitter, and all of them using that same hashtag. The one that makes Jack almost drop his phone, though, is a string of tweets from someone he knows very well.

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

Extremely proud of my son @jlzimmermann for having the courage to show the world who he is. Cannot fully express how happy I am for him

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

There were LGBTQ+ players when I was in the NHL, there always have & always will be & now we are free to be ourselves

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

& say what you like @kparse but @jlzimmermann started this, u just made a hashtag :P

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

I’m almost done I just have one more thing to say, and that is: sorry, son, I’m pansexual #StealJacksThunder

Jack looks up slowly, aware that both Snowy and Tater are staring at him. “My dad just came out as pan on Twitter. And he used the goddamn hashtag.”

“I love your dad,” Snowy says as Tater howls with laughter. “Oh, that reminds me.” He taps at his phone, and when he turns it off and puts it back in his pocket Jack checks his own— sure enough, Snowy has mentioned him in a tweet.

Aiden Snow @asnowynhl

@jlzimmermann im gay #StealJacksThunder #sorryjack

“God damn it, Snowy.” Jack doesn’t mention that as far as he knew, Snowy wasn’t out to anyone— him included— before just now. Maybe saying it through a screen is easier for him.

“At least I apologized in the tweet,” Snowy says. “Let’s open that beer, I suddenly have a need for one.”

They do pretty much nothing for the rest of the late morning and afternoon. Poots arrives about an hour after Snowy and Tater did, and the rest of the team barrels in through the door at around four, which is before practice was supposed to end. Jack doesn’t ask. They have, in fact, showered and brought their own alcohol. Jack turns on the TV and somehow finds his way to a TV show about hunting sasquatches, which works well as background noise, and every so often someone pulls out their phone and announces the latest NHL or ex-NHL player to have come out via Twitter. It’s an impressive list.

When there’s another knock on the door a little after six-thirty, Jack looks around, confused. Practically the entire roster is here, except Socks, who’s got a mild concussion and is staying home. Regardless, he gets up to answer it.

“Jack!” Bitty cries once the door opens, practically glomming onto him like a koala and wrapping his arms around Jack’s neck. “I saw the hashtag, and all the players, and your dad— how are you doing?”

“Okay, considering,” Jack says, holding Bitty up with one hand while he closes the door with the other. “I’ve only been looking at the hashtag, haven’t checked any of my mentions.”

“That’s probably smart,” Bitty says. “You can put me down.”

“Do you want me to put you down?”

Bitty considers. “Not really, but my arms are going to start hurting if I keep dangling off of you like this.”

Jack swings Bitty’s legs up so he’s in bridal style. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Fine, Zimmboni,” Tater shouts from the living room.

“How do you know I’m committing a fineable offense?” Jack yells back.

“Is obvious. Bitty is here.”

“Fair enough.”

Just then, a sasquatch-y howl emits from the other room— probably the TV. Bitty raises one eyebrow. “What on earth was that?”

“We’re watching a TV show on locating Bigfoot,” Jack says by way of explanation. “It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense and the reenactments are awful but it’s a pretty good distraction.”

“We? How many people do you— don’t tell me, the entire Falconers roster.”

“Yeah. Except Socks— Sokolov. He’s staying home because of a concussion.”

“I must say I never took you for a partier, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty says, smiling up at him. “We’re just learning more and more about each other every day, aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah. Friday evening I learned your deepest, darkest secrets, Saturday I learned how good of a baker you are, Sunday I learned your favorite color, and here we are now. Seems to me we’re doing things in reverse order.”

“Who said there had to be an order?”

“That’s true.”

Bitty nods towards the living room. “Let’s go that way. I want to see this sasquatch-hunting TV show.”

“As you wish.”