#first time ive written reader fics................... SHAKING NERVOUSLY

[helaelaemond]

To Be Strangers

gif by @barbieaemond

Pairing: Tom Bennett x female reader

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: You're standing on the dock overlooking the ships in the small hours, and a certain new recruit notices you - he can't help it. He charms you - or at least that's what you want him to think - and together you for a memory to keep him warm when the tides take him. Cunnilingus, penetration.

Content warning(s): smoking, public sex

Rating: E

Ao3: here

The stars pop out overhead as the clouds clear above the harbour, and you take in a deep breath. Your coat flaps in the sea breeze, and you pull it tighter around you. It's peaceful here, even with war looming on the horizon. There's a slender figure just ahead of you, and you see the spark of a match. God, you need a fag.

Your heels click on the pavement as you slowly walk towards the stranger. He looks up, and in the light of the yellow streetlamp, you notice his sharp jaw, his sparkling eyes. There's a small grin on his face, and you try not to return it.

"Got a spare?" you ask.

The young man - a boy, really - nods and holds out the packet for you to take one. "No filter in them."

You take one and hold it between your lips. "I don't mind." In your pocket is a little pack of matches, and you strike one to light the cigarette. You take the first draw, and a wave of relief washes over you.

"Bit late for a nice girl like you to be out, in't it? What brings you down to the docks?"

"I like watching the ships." You shrug. You can feel his eyes roaming over you without shame. "And the sailors."

"Why's that then?" He turns slightly to face you and he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, bringing himself closer.

A small breeze rolls in from the sea and you close your eyes, enjoying the coolness of it. You take another drag. "They never stay for long."

That makes him chuckle. "So let me guess; you never found Mister Right?"

"Or maybe I never wanted him. Maybe I only ever wanted Mister Right Now."

His grin is cocky. "I see. You're that sort of girl, then?"

"And what sort of girl is that?"

He takes a long drag on his own fag and lets the smoke pour through his nostrils, his parted lips. "The kind who sees the value in short-lived fun."

You bite your lip and laugh, your gaze never wavering from his. "Maybe. What if I am?"

"Then I think you and me might get on alright." He takes a step closer and leans against the railing next to you, so close that you can feel the warmth rolling off his body. "What's your name, miss?"

"Whatever you want it to be, sailor."

He chuckles and tilts his head to the side. "Want to know my name?"

"I already know your name."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You're Mister Right Now."

His grin widens. "What if I've already got a girl?"

"Have you?"

"Might have."

"Oh, well in that case-" and you turn as if to walk away.

He catches your hand without missing a beat and pulls you back to him. "Hey, where d'you think you're going?"

There are butterflies in your stomach as he towers over you, his young face handsome, sharp shadows thrown across it by the light overhead. "To find someone else."

"You're not going anywhere. I'm the best you'll find."

Instinctively, you rest your hand on his chest, almost like a barrier between you. It doesn't feel like a barrier. "Most cocky, maybe."

"I can't make any promises on that front, but I've never had a complaint."

You bite the inside of your cheeks to try to hide your grin, but it doesn't work. "But have you had anyone come back for more?"

"Once or twice, yeah. I'll have you back for more."

"You've only just met me! You've got an awful lot of confidence."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel naked, as if he's ravishing you right here on the dock. Half of you wants to push him away and into the water. The other half... well, the other half isn't rational and isn't to be listened to. It's the half that wants to pull him close and strip him as bare as he's making you feel.

He leans closer until you can smell the coffee and cigarettes on his breath. "Yeah, and it's all for you."

"You're full of it, sailor boy."

He looks you up and down again, sizing up his prize, before leaning so close his lips graze your ear. "Do you want me to show you how full of it I am?"

"You're not impressing me," you lie, but the whisper against your skin has covered you in goosebumps, sent electricity down your spine. You don't even notice how it's made you bite your lip.

"No? Then why have you stopped breathing?"His long fingers grasp your chin, and he turns your face to look at him. He's so close that your vision of blurry. It makes your eyelids heavy. "C'mon. Why do I have to beg?"

Your hands find their way to his slim waist, and the curl in the fabric of his tunic. "Because there's nothing prettier than a man on his knees."

Mister Right Now looks up the dock one way, and then the other. Still wearing a broad grin, he sinks to his knees in front of you, right there on the concrete. The fag drops from his fingers, and he looks up at you. "Like this?"

You wind your hand into his short, soft hair and drag your nails across his scalp. He closes his eyes in bliss, and it's his turn now to bite his lip. You hear him sigh, and watch as his chest rises and falls with it. Every nerve in you is aflame. "Just like this."

Sure hands find their way up the backs of your calves. He is stroking your skin, and his touch glides up, up beneath your skirt, up your stockings, and before you have time to think, one hand winds to grasp your backside. The other presses firmly between your thighs, and you let out a sigh of your own. "Is this what you want?" he asks.

You open your eyes and see him staring up at you. He's cocky, arrogant - and practically begging. You nod, teeth digging into your lip.

"Right here? Where anyone could see?"

"You'll all be gone by morning. Why should I care?"

He laughs, and leans closer. He presses his face against your skirt, just over your stomach, and you feel him bite. The hand in his hair pushes him away slightly but he surges forward. He grabs the hem of your skirt and lifts it up. You thank God that you're not wearing a tight pencil skirt, and that the soft wool is loose and swinging. He ducks his head under it.

When he disappears from your sight, you can only feel. He tugs at your underwear and without even thinking of resisting, you step wider for him, you let him drag it down, and you relish his mouth upon your thighs. Above you, rain begins to drop slowly and lightly from the sky. The stars have disappeared behind inky clouds. The streetlight had blocked them out before, anyway.

You feel his fingers first. The young sailor glides two up the inside of your thigh, and he runs it slowly along your folds, not yet dipping in. It's obscene, what you're doing, but you're quickly forgetting to care. Anyone could see you, anyone could see the young man under your skirt, but it doesn't matter. He seems to know what he's doing.

"What's your name?" you ask with an unsteady voice when his fingers slip against your cunt.

"Tom." His voice is muffled under your skirt. He presses his lips against the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your hip. "Tom Bennett."

"Alright, Tom Bennett." You grin, and your head drops back. Thank God for the railing behind you - it's the only thing you can cling onto without worrying about falling into the harbour. "Keep going."

You feel him more than you hear him chuckle. His fingers press against your entrance and you bring up a hand to press against your breast, but he doesn't sink them inside. You whine softly in protest, but he drags them up to spread your folds wide, and then he does something that brings you to your toes.

The firmness of his nose touches your cunt first. He runs it along the sensitive skin there, and he breathes through it to both cool and warm you. It must be glistening wet, you think in the back of your mind, for even just talking to Tom Bennett has had you hot and ready. His tongue follows the line his nose makes, and then he presses it against your clit.

"Fuck." You breathe the word lowly, and without realising, you grasp his head through your skirt. "Just there."

As his lips seal around your bundle of nerves, he chuckles again, and the vibrations make the stars reappear in your eyes. He sucks gently at first, but then it gets firmer, harder, and you have to lean more heavily against the railing. He knows what he's doing. God, does he know.

At last his fingers press inside you, and it feels so good, so right. The digits twist and curl in time with his tongue higher up - when his fingers stroke, his tongue stills. When his tongue strokes, his fingers still. But it's so smooth, so practised, that it feels like one long and fluid motion. He dines on you like it's his last meal.

"Tom!" You sigh his name as the tension in your stomach builds. "Yes, don't stop." It's difficult to keep quiet.

In the moments that you climb the precipice, the young sailor stops, and he stands up suddenly. In his eyes is a wildness that you can't escape. He stares into you with an impossible fire, and it's only when you hear the clink of his opening belt that you realise why he stopped.

"You taste like the sea."

You can't help but grab him close. "Show me."

And then he kisses you. One hand fumbles with his trousers, and the other grasps the back of your neck, and he kisses you. It's rough, and he parts your lips without a second thought, and then his tongue is sliding against yours as if he is tasting for the first time. He's right - you do taste like the sea. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you whine quietly. He grabs your hips and lifts you to sit on the railing, before his hands return to his trousers. They're barely pushed to his knees by the time his grasp is on your hips.

He looks you in the eye again, and his cocky grin is back. All teeth and determination. "You want this?"

You pull at the hair on the back of his head and return his grin. "Yeah. Fuck me, Tom Bennett."

"You don't have to say my whole name every time."

You reach one hand between you and it finds his cock, heavy and leaking. You squeeze gently, and in your grasp you can feel his heartbeat racing. Maybe he felt yours, too, when he pressed his mouth against your cunt. The noise he makes is deep and whining and it rumbles in his chest, and you wish for a fleeting moment that you were looking at his naked body, admiring him in the light of day. But no, this is good, too. On a rainy dock in the middle of the night, where anyone can find you. There's a thrill in that. He wants you so bad.

With your hand guiding him, he slides easily into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, already halfway to bliss, and hang onto the railing for dear life. The sounds of your fucking are obscene - wet and slapping noises echo along the dock and across the water, and you bury your face into his neck to muffle your sounds of delight.

"Shit!" He laughs quietly, his voice punctuated by moans with every breath. "Do you know how good you feel?"

"No!" you laugh in reply. The peals of delight devolve into moans again. "I've never fucked myself."

"You're missing out, then. Hey!" He slaps the hand away that reaches between you, and looks at you in mock indignation. "I'm taking care of you, aren't I?"

Your mouth hangs open in delight when he presses his fingers back against you. They trace just above where his cock slides in and out of you, and then they set a firm and fast rhythm against your clit. It feels better than anything you've had before, you've never had someone take care like this before, it's so good, it's so-

"Oh, Tom!"

"Fuck! Yeah, like that?"

You nod, and he kisses you deeply again. It's all heavy breaths and strained expressions now, but when your lips part, your foreheads stay pressed together. Sweaty, damp from the drizzle, it doesn't matter. It pushes you higher and higher.

"Tom, yes, yes-! I-!"

"Good girl, keep going, I-! Oh, fuck!"

What little sense remains to you reminds you to stay quiet. When he rips the orgasm from you, only the smallest squeak escapes you, but your eyes roll back into your head as heaven explodes through you. Your thighs, still locked around his narrow hips, tremble and shake.

"I'm gonna-!" He looks at you with wide eyes.

"Inside, Tom!"

His face scrunches up as he follows you over the edge, and his hips stutter while he comes. He buries himself as deep as he can, leaning forward on his toes, knees slightly bent, and you meet him with a few final grinds to release all the pressure. He pants, and rests his forehead against your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

Eventually, your legs are too tired to hold him close, and you let them unwind from him. The ground rushes up to meet them, and then you finally land back on Earth. Bliss does not leave you, though.

It seems not to leave him, either, and even when he pulls out, does his trousers and belt back up, he looks satisfied. His grin won't fade. Even when he kisses you again, he is grinning.

"That was alright, weren't it?"

You can't help but laugh quietly. You pull up your underwear and sort out your skirt, and when you look at him, you're pleased to see that he's still looking at you like a prize to be won. "Yeah. Yeah, that was alright, Tom Bennett."

"I already said you don't have to-"

"But how else will I remember, if not by repeating it?"

He steps closer to you again, and he's towering over you again, and he's close enough to kiss again. "You want to repeat that?"

"Maybe. Come back from war alive, and maybe I'll be waiting here for you."

"Nah, not here."

You raise your eyebrow. "Oh?"

He's grinning. "Next time, I wanna fuck you in a proper bed. And next time, I'll be moaning your name."

"You don't want to be strangers next time?" It's a tease, nothing more. All night has been a tease.

"No. Next time, I want you to be mine."

[shikanoinsdog]

bully scaramouche x gn reader

CW: mentions of bullying, no gendered terms used for reader, mildly suggestive

WC: ~700

AN: i had an idea for a smut but ive never written full smut before so this is like an experimental fic but if you guys like it i might attempt a part two with smut :)

Scaramouche has been bullying you. You could've easily stopped him, so why did you let him? Maybe it was because you hoped he'd come to his senses and apologise. Maybe you let him put you down to let himself feel better. Or maybe.. you suffered all that humiliation, just for this.

It was quite some time after school hours. You had stayed in the library to catch up on some work after class and were just leaving when you heard someone down the hallway.

"Leave me alone!" You heard a girl shout, followed by a mocking laugh that sounded an awful lot like.. Scaramouche. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you briskly walked to the general direction of the kerfuffle, to be presented with the sight of some poor, teary girl on the floor with the culprit, Scaramouche, pulling her hair.

His attention turned to you when he heard the sound of someone's footsteps approaching. He raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down, clearly irked.

"Tch. What do you want?" He snapped, turning his attention back to the girl.

"Let her go, Scaramouche. We need to talk." You say firmly, or so you thought. He picks up on the tremors in your voice and the corner of his mouth turns upwards into a smirk. He lets go of the girl's hair and tells her to scram, then grins at you and puts his arms in the air in faux surrender as he approaches you.

"We need to talk? I wasn't aware of that. So, enlighten me, darling." He leans close to your ear and drops his voice down to a threatening whisper. "What do we need to talk about, hm?"

Despite your nervousness, you boldly grab his arm and lead him into an empty classroom. You close the door behind you and point at a chair, implying that you want him to sit. His eyebrow quirks in an amused fashion, as if to say "You're trying to command me?" Regardless, he makes his way to the chair and seats himself.

You walk over to stand in front of him and suddenly slam your hands down on his desk. His eyes widen at this and he flinches, trying to play it off as him leaning back into the chair. He quickly recovers and grins at you, choosing to speak first.

"What's got you so worked up, sweetheart?" You blush at the nickname he uses before shaking your head and opening your mouth to speak back, but he cuts you off. "Oh. That's cute." His blank expression morphs into a smirk. "Did you get flustered by that?"

You flush in embarrassment, realising that he had picked up on your body language. You mumble out a weak "Shut up." and he chuckles and leans forward in his seat, grabbing your chin to make you face him.

"Where's all that spunk from earlier gone? You like me, don't you?" And you make the mistake of making eye contact with him, and you see this crazed look in his eyes that sends shivers down your spine. You clear your throat awkwardly before replying.

"How could I like you of all people." But he sees right through you, and leans closer and you can feel his breath on your lips. You take a nervous gulp and he whispers breathlessly, "If you don't like me, then will you stop me from doing this?" and he leans in and closes his eyes, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss and you can feel him smile while he kisses you.

After what seems feels a few minutes of passionate kissing, you both pull away to take a breath and he smirks at you while you stare blankly at him, processing what had just happened. "Y'know.. I never noticed but, you're pretty attractive." He reaches out to stroke your cheek, but you flinch away from him. He frowns at this and retracts his hand, seemingly annoyed at your reaction.

He gets up and walks behind you and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, moving his other hand to grab your face. He lowers his voice and speaks in a sultry tone. "I've taken quite the liking to you." His hand drops to hold your throat and leans closer to your ear. "How about you be mine?"

---------------------------------------------------------

[unwrittenlibrary]

i’m begging for you (take my hand)

this fic has 18+ content! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. this is for your safety and mine! please respect that. 

by continuing to read you are stating that you are over eighteen and understand this content is not meant for minors.

summary // bucky doesn’t do love, you love bucky. being friends with benefits makes sense, right? [bucky barnes x female!reader]

words // 19.0k (BUCKLE UP IT’S A LONG ONE)

warnings // modern!bucky, fwb! trope, brief love triangle (steve x reader x bucky), overall toxicity, cursing, daddy issues (bucky’s dad left), drinking, excessive use of nicknames (sweetheart/sweets/baby), oral sex (f! receiving), penetrative sex, unsafe sex (do not have unprotected sex!), spitting, thigh riding, bucky has a metal arm but it’s not explained why (it was a car accident & that is already known by reader)

notes // title from willow by taylor swift (this fic was originally titled heartbeat and inspired by childish gambino’s song of the same name) i just could not get modern bucky not knowing how to deal with feelings out of my head & it became this catastrophe [ive never written 18+ before so pls be gentle in your judgement of those scenes omg] happy reading! 

if you enjoy this, reblogs & replies are greatly appreciated (especially when pieces take this much work)

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

“To Bucky Barnes, my now forever lawyer.” You hold out your wine glass and he meets you halfway in a cheers. Bucky laughs brightly as you praise him. “And now my sugar daddy, since he makes an insane amount of money as senior associate.” 

The two of you are halfway through your second bottle of wine. “I’ve been a lawyer for four years. I’m just now becoming your go-to?” He holds a hand to his chest in faux hurt. 

You lean towards him as you laugh. “I needed to make sure you were a good lawyer. Get me off murder charges good.” It feels like the two of you have been scooting closer to each other all night. 

“Sweetheart, you know I’d be there to help you hide the body if you needed me to.” He leans towards you in a conspiratorial whisper. Your eyes move from his eyes to his lips before snapping back up. “Then get you off the charges.” He breathes out. 

You can feel his breath on your face. The scent of red wine hits your noise and you can see it staining his lips. You want to kiss him so desperately, but you just can’t make the first move. You don’t think you could handle that rejection. 

“I’m gonna kiss you.” He says quietly, his eyes scanning over your face for any sign of rejection. You swallow thickly before nodding. “Okay.” You whisper back before letting out a nervous giggle. 

Bucky’s hand comes up to rest against your cheek. Its coldness relieves some of the heat that’s risen to underneath your skin from his proximity and the wine you’ve consumed. 

Your eyes slide shut as he leans in. His nose nudging against yours before you feel his lips. You bring your hand up to rest on his chest. His lips are softer than you expected and taste like the wine they’re stained with. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of when dreaming of kissing Bucky. 

He pulls away and looks at you with half lidded eyes. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbles. You feel heat crawl up the back of your neck at the honesty in his tone. He presses a kiss against your jaw. Then your neck. Your head falls to the side to allow him better access. 

It’s easy to move into his lap when his hands grip at your hips. “Fuck.” Bucky moans as you grind down against him. You throw your head back in a moan as his lips trail down from your jaw to your neck. 

“Shit.” You say breathlessly as his hands run up and down your sides. Your hands drop down and begin to work on his jeans button and zipper. Bucky lets out a groan when they brush against his already hard dick. 

You stand from his lap and he pulls his jeans off while you move to unbutton your top. As you work on the shirt, Bucky’s hands reach out to undo your own jeans. When you’re standing in nothing but underwear in front of him, Bucky isn’t doing anything but staring. The heat in his eyes makes you feel flush and goes straight to your core. “Fuck. You’re gorgeous.” He says quietly.

You crawl back into his lip and Bucky’s hands find you again immediately. You rub against him and both of you moan at the slight relief it offers. Bucky’s hand drifts down between you two and he begins to rub over your clothed clit.

You grind down on his hand and let out a whine. “More. More. Please.” You whisper. Bucky laughs softly at you before slipping his hand into your underwear and running a finger over your slit. “Oh my god.” Your head falls to rest on his shoulder.

“That’s it. You look so good like this, sweetheart.” He murmurs into your hair. The praise makes you moan as you grind down against him again desperate for more.

You pull back to look at him, one of your hands tangled in the hair at the back of his head. In a breathless tone you say, “Fuck me.”

Bucky groans. “Oh shit.” His hips buck up against you. “Yeah. Okay.” He pushes you off of his lap gently and moves to pull his briefs off. You follow suit and pull your underwear off.

“Come here.” He groans as he pulls you back over his lap. You giggle as he presses a flurry of kisses across your chest. He holds a hand out in front of you, “Spit.” He orders.

You glance at him in shock before following the order. His eyes roll back as he watches you before he moves to use the spit to lube himself up. “Fuck me. Please.” You whisper to him as he teases your entrance.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Bucky slips into you and you both let out loud moans. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel so good.” His forehead rests against your chest as both of you relish in the feeling for a moment. After a few seconds of shaky breathing, you yank at his hair gently so he’s forced to look at you again. A smirk spreads across his face at the feeling and you smile down at him, “Gonna fuck me? Or are we just sit here?” You tease. 

Bucky’s hands grip your hips tightly and he steadies his feet on the ground. “Yeah, sweets. ‘M gonna fuck you.”

》•

Your eyes focus in on Wanda as she waves a hand in front of your face. You can feel your body grow hot at the memory of Bucky and you. “What’s on your mind? You’ve been zoning out all night.” She laughs softly.

“Bucky and I had sex last night.” You blurt out, unable to keep it to yourself any longer. You swallow tightly when Wanda’s eyes brighten in excitement before confusion takes over.

She watches your face, like she can tell something was wrong, and doesn’t move to do anything for a second. When she does speak, it’s hesitant. “You’ve liked him since we were in school. Is this good or bad?”

You frown. She was right, you had liked Bucky since he had come barreling into your life senior year of college with bright eyes, mischievous smiles and maybe too many issues to ever be in a real relationship. You had sat through his flings and tried to move on with you own, but every guy had ended up being jealous of Bucky or too boring compared to him.

“He doesn’t-” You suck in a deep breath. “He doesn’t want a relationship.” You say quietly. You take another sip of your wine when Wanda reaches over with pity filled eyes and grabs a hold of your hand.

She shakes her head like she doesn’t understand what you’ve just said to her. “What do... What do you mean?” 

You run your hands over your face in despair. “I don’t... We had like two bottles of wine and we hooked up.” You look up at her with tearful eyes. “When I woke up this morning, he went on about how he loved me and he didn’t want to hurt me.” 

Wanda’s watching you with wide eyes. “Start from the beginning. What did he say? Are you sure he said he doesn’t want to be in a relationship?” She’s shaking her head in disbelief. 

You take a deep breath before launching into the story. 

His bed is empty when you wake up. Your stomach sinks as you stare at his bedroom door left ajar. You can hear him in the kitchen talking, but you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. 

You take a deep breath before getting up. You had hoped he would sleep in with you. That cuddling in the morning would lead to confessions of hidden feelings. Your hopes diminished as you creeped down the hallway towards the kitchen. 

“No.” Bucky sounds anxious as he talks into the phone. “I’m telling you. I fucked up.” You step in the kitchen and he glances over his shoulder with wide eyes. “I’ve got to go. Bye.” He hangs up abruptly and turns to you with a tense smile. 

You give him a small smile in return. “Morning.” You tug at the hem of his t-shirt nervously as he stares at you. “We should-”

“I wanted to-” The two of you laugh awkwardly as you speak over one another. You hold your hand towards him. “You go first.” You move to sit at one of counter’s barstools. 

Bucky’s watching you with wary eyes and if his words to whoever was on that phone weren’t warning enough, this new demeanor around you certainly is. “You’re my best friend.” He comes to stand directly across from you. “And I care about you a lot. You’re one of the most important women in my life. I don’t want to ruin our relationship.” 

You nod slowly as he attempts to reject you kindly. If it weren’t so painful, you might laugh at how awkward he looks. “It’s not...” You trail off unsure of what to say. “Bucky, it’s not that serious. We’re fine.” You reach your hand across the counter palm up for him to take. 

His brows furrow. “You’re not mad at me?” He asks in confusion. “I thought-”

You shake your fingers and he smiles before holding your hand tightly in his. “It was consensual. With a guy I trust with my life. And it was great sex. I’m not mad at you.” You smile reassuringly. 

It’s not a lie. Not at all. Everything you said was true, you had just left out the part where you had been hoping for more. But you could get over this. A one time fling. You could survive it as long as you didn’t lose him. 

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” Bucky’s shoulders relax. The tension on his face transforms into a cocky smirk. “Great sex?” 

“That’s...” Wanda trails off as she digests your words. “Why didn’t you tell him how you feel?” She asks. 

You look at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean why didn’t I tell him? Should we start with me overhearing him telling someone how much he fucked up or his rejection for dummies speech?” You laugh sarcastically. 

Wanda gives you apologetic eyes. “How can you be sure he was talking to the person on the phone about you?” You scrunch your nose up at her and she sighs. “Okay, whatever. At least now you know he doesn’t want a relationship! You can move on and find someone with a bigger dick.” 

“Wanda!” You can’t help but laugh. You give her an appreciative smile before letting out a sigh.  “I don’t know... I guess I just always thought we’d end up together. It’s stupid.”

You trace your finger around the base of your wine glass. Wanda watches you for a moment before flagging down a waitress. She looks at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Can I get a round of tequila shots, please?” She asks. 

The waitress nods before walking away. “We’re going to get you drunk and make you forget all about Bucky Barnes.” 

You laugh softly. “Yes please.” 

》

Four glasses of wine and two rounds of shots leaves you struggling to get the key into your apartment door’s lock. 

“Fuck.” You mutter when you push too hard and the keys clatter against the floor. You sigh deeply before bending down to pick them. You lay one palm flat against your door in an attempt to steady your shaky feet as the other reaches for your keys. 

Then you’re falling forward and your shoulder hits the floor harshly. “Jesus, sweetheart. I thought you were some weirdo trying to break in.” You groan as you look up and see Bucky staring down at you with furrowed brows. 

He’s wearing nothing but sweatpants, his metal arm and abs on full display for you. You give him a dopey smile. “Hey, handsome.” 

He laughs loudly. It’s bright and contagious and makes you giggle as he bends down to lift you to your feet. “Missed you tonight.” He says softly as he wraps his arm around your waist.

You allow yourself to rest your bodyweight on him, knowing he’s strong enough to lead you to your room. His soft words leave you feeling like you’re floating. It’s like the night before had never happened. 

“Missed you too.” You whisper. Your words are slurred, not that you can change that, but you know he understands them. He presses a kiss to your head in response as he leads you down the hall and into a room. 

The room is spinning around you, but you know it’s Bucky’s from the blank walls and dark furniture. Bucky sits you down on the edge of his bed and your fingers immediately grip his comforter tightly. “Why’d you bring me here?” Your grip is the only thing that keeps you from falling backwards onto his bed. 

You try to focus your eyes on him, but he’s moving around the room too fast. From what you think is his dresser then his closet. “I’ve got to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit tonight.” 

“‘M not gonna get sick.” You mumble as he comes to a stop in front of you. He holds out a pile of clothes to you. “I have my own clothes in my own room.” You stare up at him defiantly. 

You can see Bucky push his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a tell that he was getting a little annoyed. “C’mon sweets. Just put the clothes on and get in bed.” 

He’s still holding the clothes out in front of you. His earlier rejection running through your mind. “I’m not having sex with you tonight.” You blurt out. You would have never said the words sober, but you didn’t want him to think it would become a recurring thing. 

Bucky laughs awkwardly and drops the clothes on the bed beside you. “I’m not trying to have sex with you. I’m trying to take care of you and make sure you don’t die in your sleep.” 

Your eyes narrow, but you feel far too dizzy to actually get up and move to your room to prove a point. You lift your arms and look up at Bucky, “Help?” 

He smiles victoriously and reaches for the hem of your shirt. You can see his eyes trail over your bralette and feel your cheeks warm, but you blame that on the alcohol. 

“Do you want to sleep in this?” He whispers as his fingers trail over one of the straps. You shiver as one of his cold fingers presses into your skin and leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

You bite down on your lip, but nod your head. “I’ll be fine in it.” 

He nods and you raise your arms again as he slips one of his black t-shirts onto you. It’s soft and smells like him leaving you warm all over and suddenly tired. Your head falls so your chin is resting against your chest. 

Bucky kneels down in front of you. “Is it okay if I take your jeans off? So I can put sweatpants on you?” He moves his head so you’re forced to make eye contact with him as his hands come to rest on your stomach. He fiddles with your jean’s button, but doesn’t move to actually undo it yet. 

You nod softly before falling backwards onto the bed. Bucky’s hands move quickly as he unbuttons and unzips your jeans. There’s a sharp inhale once he gets your jeans off, but you ignore it.  

“Sweetheart.” You lift your hips when you feel his sweatpants get stuck underneath you. “Thank you.” He says quietly.  

“What did you do tonight?” You mumble as you move around his bed to crawl under the comforter. You wait until he’s situated beside you before pulling the blanket up to cover the bottom half of your face. 

He pulls the blanket down and holds out a wipe. “You complain when I let you fall asleep with the makeup.” 

Your eyes flicker to his in brief shock, unaware of how much he actually listened to you. “Than...Thank you.” You begin to wipe it across your face. It’s not your normal routine, but it was better than nothing. “Tell me about your night.” 

Bucky moves so he’s sitting against his headboard. “I just waited for you all night.” He shrugs. 

You drop the wipe onto the side table. “Shut up. What did you really do?” You shove gently at his shoulder. Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you into him. 

He’s stronger when you’re sober, so your drunk body falls into his side easily and you wrap an arm around his waist. “I’m telling you the truth, sweets. I just waited all night for you.” He presses a kiss to your temple. 

You look up from his chest to find him looking down at you with soft eyes. He’s being kind and you’re sure all that he can think of is how happy he is that your friendship hasn’t been ruined. 

But all you can think about is how no matter how soft he is with you, he still doesn’t want to be with you. No matter how much he says he loves you and misses you, it’s not the sam way you mean it. It leaves a crack in your heart that you’re unsure will ever be healed. 

》•

She’s pretty. You think bitterly as you watch from across the room. 

Bucky’s firm had a party every few months for donors. Bucky hated them. He always complained that schmoozing wasn’t his specialty, law was, so you were usually dragged along as his plus one to “Keep me from dying of boredom, please.” 

You usually didn’t mind. Bucky flirted for money, you got to enjoy to open bar to cope with his non-existent feelings for you. Tonight felt even worse. 

You force yourself to look away and look back down at the drink in front of you. You’re glad Wanda isn’t there to look at you with the same pity filled eyes that you had been getting since revealing the details of your hook up, but you wish you had someone to turn to. 

“You look great in that dress.” Your head whips up at the familiar voice. Steve is smiling at you sweetly and you can tell he’s keeping his eyes respectfully on yours. “Definitely your color.” 

You laugh. You and Steve weren’t particularly close, he was a childhood friend and you were college. The two of you really only spent time together in groups or with Bucky there. “Thank you, Mr. Rogers.” You tease. 

“Please.” He throws his head back in an over dramatic groan. “Steve! So many people have called me Mr. Rogers tonight I’m going to fall into an identity crisis.” 

You give him an ill-suppressed smile. “Thank you, Steve.” He sits down in the barstool next to you and waves the bartender over. 

“Water for me and…” He glances at the empty glass in front of you, “another glass of wine for her?” His voice ends in a question and he smiles brightly when you nod. 

“I could be wrong, but aren’t you supposed to be flirting with rich women to fund your pro bono cases?” You run a finger around the base of your glass. 

Steve’s eyes trail from your manicured nails up to your teasing smile. He swallows and forces out a soft laugh. “I’m not too good at the flirting that’s uh-.” He looks over his shoulder before looking back at you with kind eyes. 

You ignore his insinuation. Ignore the idea of Bucky and Steve feeling pity for you over Bucky. “Everyone deserves a break.” 

The man in front of you gives you a relieved smile. “And what better way to take a break than talk to a pretty girl?” 

You smile sweetly. “You could get 100k easily with that charm.” Steve throws his head back in a laugh and his arm lands on the back of your seat when he leans back in. 

You find yourself leaning in too. He’s got a nice laugh and sweet personality. You can feel the warmth radiating off of him and it’s relaxing. 

For a moment, Bucky is forgotten as Steve gives you all his attention, the first person to do so all night.

》•

Bucky stops to stand next to Sam as he takes a sip of his drink. His eyes scan over the party in search of you. 

“Good for Steve.” Sam says into his glass before taking a sip of his drink. Bucky’s eyes cut to him in question. Sam nods in front of him and Bucky’s eyes settle on you at the bar. With Steve. 

“What do you mean good for Steve?” Bucky asks. He can’t take his eyes off of you as Steve slides a glass of wine towards you. 

Sam shrugs nonchalantly. “He’s had a crush on her since that Halloween party last year.” 

Bucky’s mind drifts to you in your skin tight superhero costume. He wasn’t blind, he had seen the guys who had come up to you and their eyes that had trailed after you. 

“He hasn’t said anything to me.” He feels a surge of pride at the fact that he can’t explain when he thinks of how at the end of the night, you had come home alone with him, content to sit on the couch and watch horror movies. “He’s not her type.” He adds on after a moment of silence. 

Bucky isn’t too confident in his words though. Steve seemed to be the perfect kind of guy for you. Kind, funny, made good money, and was always the guy who listened with open ears. Bucky just couldn’t fathom you with anybody that… He doesn’t know, but he knows Steve doesn’t feel right.

Sam snorts. “Yeah. Try telling you about wanting to take her out? He’d rather live.” Bucky watches as Steve leans in closer to whisper something into your ear. 

He feels rage surge through him, but forces himself to stay in his spot. “Not like we’re dating. He could have told me if he wanted to. Or made a move.” He wasn’t sure why he felt so angry about you and Steve. It wasn’t like you two were dating, he hadn’t lied to Sam.

Sam looks at Bucky like he’s grown two heads. “Come on, Buck. Not dating? You call her all these nicknames, never let other people flirt with her, always take her home.” 

“We live together.” Bucky defends weakly. His mind drifts to kissing you while wine drunk. He shakes his head. “Of course I take her home.” 

Sam looks a little bemused as he asks, “Are you two seriously not dating?” 

“Of course not! She’s my best friend.” He glances at Sam before looking back over at Steve. You’re leaning in too. It’s not like he was lying, the two of you weren’t dating. But he had brought you as his date tonight and he’ll be damned if Steve weasels his way into your heart. 

“I was just cur-“ Bucky shoves his empty glass into Sam’s hand before beginning to make his way through the crowd towards you. 

He can vaguely hear Sam shout a goodbye, but all he can focus on is getting your attention onto him and off of Steve. 

》

You feel him before you see him. His hand trailing up your back before landing on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. His grip isn’t tight, but it makes you shiver. 

“What’s going on here?” His voice is a possessive drawl and you look up at him with a confused smile. 

You sit up straighter and Steve immediately pulls away. His blue eyes follow Bucky’s arm to his face and they narrow. “Just keeping her company. Noticed you were busy, so…” Steve trails off with a shrug.

Bucky’s grip on you tightens. “Well, I’m here now. You can go back to schmoozing.” He nods his head in the direction of the party, but Steve doesn’t budge. 

You’re extremely confused by Bucky’s sudden possessiveness over your attention and turn to him with an annoyed glare. “Actually, Steve was telling me about how that’s your specialty. He’s far too sweet to mindlessly flirt. ” 

You feel Steve’s shocked gaze on you, because he had definitely not said that, but you don’t look away from Bucky. His glare melts into a sickly sweet smile as he turns to look at his childhood friend. “That so?” 

Part of you feels bad for pushing Steve into the middle of whatever this tension was between you and Bucky. But you can’t ignore the pleasure that rushes through you as Bucky’s grip tightens and his attention focuses solely on you for the first time all night. 

Steve looks back and forth between you two before he stands from his seat. “It was nice seeing you.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek before slapping a hand against Bucky’s back. “See you later, punk.”

You swallow as Bucky moves to take Steve’s now unoccupied seat. He orders a drink and you can only watch in shock as moves around so casually. When he finally looks back at you he just looks confused by your silence. 

“What’s up?” He asks with a smile. 

You roll your eyes at him. “What was that?” You gesture in the direction Steve had gone before looking at him with wide eyes. 

Bucky looks down at his drink and shrugs. “Didn’t want anyone bothering you.” 

“Anyone bothering me? That was Steve!” You laugh incredulously. “I know Steve. You know Steve. He was keeping me company.” You can’t wrap your head around his random behavior. 

Bucky shakes his head like you’re the one who’s being confusing and acting weird. “You just looked a little uncomfortable. I came to your rescue.” He gulps down the rest of his drink. 

“My rescue?” You shake your head at him. “Buck, it was Steve. Steve Rogers is one of the most polite men in New York.” 

Bucky shakes his head. “He likes you. Sam said he was definitely trying to make a move on you.” He immediately feels bad for blurting out Steve’s secret, but he just can’t let it go. 

You scrunch your face up in confusion before letting out a breath. “That’s not your secret to tell.” You grab your clutch and stand up quickly. “Why would that even matter anyways?” You look down at him now, he’s still sitting on the barstool. He won’t look up at you.

“Can we just go home?” He asks quietly as he taps his fingers against the bar counter. You bite down on your lip before finally nodding. “Fine.” He lets out a sigh before standing to follow you. 

You’re shocked when you feel his fingers slip in between yours as the two of you walk towards the elevators. Holding hands with Bucky wasn’t new, per say, you’d done it at bars to get out of creepy guys flirting with you, amusement parks so as to not lose one another, but this… This felt different, softer and more insecure. 

You swallow before squeezing his hand in return. You hear the relieved breath he lets out as the two of you stop in front of the closed elevator doors. 

He whispers your name with a tug of your hand. You turn to look at him as the two of you step into the empty elevator. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to screw things up with Steve. I just… I don’t know.” 

Your heart breaks a little. You weren’t sure what you expected. Maybe an admission of jealousy, that Bucky realized he didn't want you with Steve or any other guy, he wanted you with him. But the words never came and you feel stupid for letting your hopes get the best of you.

You shrug. “It’s fine, Buck.” The elevator is slow in its descent. You almost groan when you see how high you are and the fifteen floors left to go down. “I don’t like Steve… I just… It was nice to have some company. You were busy all night.” 

You try to hide the emotion in your voice, but Bucky can hear it. He can see it too, written on your face as you try to keep your eyes on the descending numbers. 

Your words cause a wave of relief to crash over him. You didn’t like Steve. You didn’t like Steve. He felt bad for his friend, but not bad enough to stop his next move.

He tugs at your hand again. The elevator is almost all the way down if you could just ignore him for a few more seconds-

His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to think about why he’s pulling you towards him. You’re still with shock, your hands clasped between you two, as Bucky kisses you. 

You don’t kiss back, too stunned to. Bucky pulls back when the elevator finally dings and you try to rush out only to be stopped when you realize you’re still attached to Bucky’s hand. 

“What the fuck was that?” You hiss. “You can’t just… Just flip out about Steve flirting, tell me you’re not jealous and then kiss me!” You yell.

Bucky swallows thickly and glances around the empty lobby. “I… It…”

You stare at him with lifted brows waiting for an explanation. “You need to figure your shit out, Buck. I said I was fine if you wanted it to be a one time thing but I’m not here for you to yank around.” 

“I’m not trying to yank you around!” Bucky defends. “I just… What if it wasn’t just a one time thing?” He asks quietly, his voice almost a whisper. 

You want to cry. “Wh...What?” You ask with a shake of your head. 

“I feel like such a dick.” He admits taking a hesitant step closer to you. When you don’t move away, he places a hand on your cheek. “Stuff with work has been so stressful lately and… and I never have the time or energy to do anything. The other night, with you, was the most relaxed I’ve been in a while.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“I’ve been thinking of us helping each other out.” 

“Like a friends with benefits thing?” You blurt out when you realize where he was going with this. 

He nods. “I just… Got to thinking after you left that morning. It was great sex, best I’ve had in a while.” You swallow and your eyes dart away a little embarrassed. “And I know you and don’t have to worry about you giving me some disease. We live together and we wouldn’t have to go out or wait for some random hook up.” 

You can’t really wrap your head around his words. “But you don’t want… You don’t want to have a relationship?” 

“You know me.” He laughs tensely. “Not a relationship guy. I love you, you’re my best friend, but-“

“That’s good.” Your blurt, already regretting the words. “I mean, I love you, you’re my best friend too, you know? Neither of us really have time for one anyways and… Life is stressful.” 

“You… You want to? Do the benefits thing?” Bucky looks like he can’t believe that you’re agreeing. Quite honestly, you can’t really believe the words coming out of your mouth either. 

Because you liked Bucky. You had for so long now it felt like it was a piece of you. You were sure you loved him. You were sure he didn’t feel the same way and this… This was a way to be with him, no matter how fucked up it may be. 

And life was stressful. A full time job with New York City rent and bills. You hated going out. You hate hook ups, they always left you disgruntled and disappointed. Bucky had… Bucky had been good. The best, probably. And it would be nice to have someone other than yourself every once in a while. 

“Yeah.” You whisper. “I… I want to. I’m kind of sick of my hand.” 

Bucky snorts then laughs and it immediately calms you down. He was still your Bucky. Just with the added bonus of sex. “Me too, sweets.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you into a hug. You suck in a deep breath. “I think you said something about going home.” You mumble into his suit jacket. 

“Yeah.” He whispers back, tilting your chin up to look up. He smirks down at you. “I did.” 

》

“Fuck. Fuck.” You moan as Bucky kisses down your chest. “Please, Buck.” You whimper when his right hand comes up and begins to play with your nipple. 

He doesn’t respond, his tongue flicking over your other nipple. You’re arching your back into him, it feels good, but you want more. His left hand is settled on your hip and you want it on you in a different way. 

You groan when he pulls away to look at you. “What do you want, sweetheart? You gotta tell me or I won’t be able to give it to you.” His tone is sweet, but he’s looking at you with blown pupils and a cocky smile. 

“Your fingers, Buck, please.” You try to lift your hips up a little, but his left hand keeps you pressed against his mattress. You look at him pleadingly when he still doesn’t move. “Please, James.” You murmur. 

You didn’t call him by his first name often, he had introduced himself as Bucky and you hadn’t even learned it until a few months later. Sometimes you pulled it out to tease him, but tonight… You wanted to see if it would push him. 

“Fuck.” He mutters, leaning over you and beginning to press a line of kisses down your stomach all the way to your pelvic bone. “Fuck, that’s hot. Say it again.” 

You throw your head back in a moan when his hand begins to rub you through your panties. “James. I need you to-“ 

“Gonna give you more than my fingers, sweets.” He hooks fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down. “Finally gonna get a taste of you, if that’s okay.” He glances at you and you nod hastily.

“God. Yes, please.” Your eyes flutter shut as his hands force your thighs open. His grip on you is tight and harsh and makes your entire body tingle. 

“So pretty.” He murmurs just watching you. If you weren’t so turned on you would be embarrassed by his stare, but his words just make you even more desperate for him. He settles on his stomach, head between your thighs. He begins to bite and kiss his way up your inner thigh. “Been thinking about this since you let me fuck you, sweetheart.” He admits in a murmur before finally putting his mouth on you. “Thinking about how you taste.”

“Oh shit.” You moan, a combination of the pleasure of his tongue and his words giving you butterflies. “Yes. Fuck.” 

“Knew you’d taste good.” He moans, the words go straight to your core and he knows it. He knows what he’s doing. His hands gripping at your hips tightly, thumbs rubbing calming circles into your skin. He flicks his tongue over your sensitive spot and your back arches. “So good.” You murmur breathily. Your hands are clutching the bed sheets as you try to grind your hips up. 

Bucky pulls one hand away, it gives you a little more freedom to move but not much, and begins to tease you with a finger. 

“Yes. Please, your fingers.” You beg him. Bucky chuckles against you, sending hot breath and a small vibration straight to your core. It feels good, he’s good. 

He pulls away slightly and you whine. “Come on, sweets.” He urges, pushing his finger into you. You moan at the feeling. “What happened to calling me James? Said I liked it.” He adds another, your slick heat allowing them easily.

“James.” You look down at him with blown pupils. Bucky almost comes right there, his fingers inside of you, your chest heaving and you looking at him like that. “James. Please. Want your mouth on me again.” 

Now that you’ve started saying his name, it’s like you can’t stop. The name tumbles out of your mouth like a prayer. He rewards you for it though, his mouth is back on you, licking over you steadily, and you can feel the tension in your stomach the closer and closer you get. 

“So good.” Bucky murmurs into your skin. You moan out again. “Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” He pulls away to ask, his breath fanning across your skin. Your hips buck up towards him in desperation and Bucky groans. “Come on, sweets. Can you come for me? Please.” 

He curves his fingers and flicks his tongue over your already sensitive bud again and your back arches. “Fuck. Fuck.” You moan as your orgasm washes over you. Bucky works you through it and your legs are shaking by the time he pulls his mouth away to smile cheekily at you. 

“I like it when you call me James.” He whispers as he crawls up towards you. You roll you eyes with a tired smile. He fingers trace circles over you stomach. “You tired?”

You nod your head. Your eyes trail over his body, his hard dick making an obvious tent in his briefs. You smirk at him, your hand moving to trail down from his stomach to his dick. Bucky moans as your hand grips him. 

“Still want you to fuck me though.”

》•

Bucky thinks maybe the two of you should establish some ground rules. No dates, if you sleep with somebody else let the other know, use protection, don’t fall asleep together. 

But he can’t imagine the two of you not having your regular Sunday breakfasts together after his runs or forcing you out of his room when the two of you had shared beds long before this ever happened. 

So, he ignores it. He decides to enjoy your warmth in his bed and assumes you’re not seeing anybody else. It’s good. It works, even if his friends think he’s being an idiot. 

Steve is on one side while Sam is on his other and they’ve both been standing in silence now that Bucky has finished explaining what happened when the two of you left the party.

He feels bad when he sees Sam’s eyes flicker to Steve in confusion, but Steve’s face holds more pity than annoyance. It makes Bucky feel uncomfortable in his spot as he takes a sip of water.

“I don’t understand why you’re not calling her your girlfriend.” Steve finally says. 

Bucky rolls his shoulders with an annoyed sigh. “I just said. We’re both busy with work and friends, there’s no time for relationships. This works for the both of us. We don’t have to rely on shitty hookups and we trust each other.” 

Steve gives Bucky a look that screams you’re an idiot while Sam just laughs loudly. “You have to know how ridiculous that sounds, dude.” Sam slaps a hand against Bucky’s back. “You guys live together. You have all the time in the world to actually date each other. I thought you guys were dating each other with how you act. you’re having sex now and you still won’t call her your girlfriend?” He asks incredulously. 

“I...I don’t want a relationship. It leads to marriage and kids and fights.” Bucky shudders. “No thanks. This way I get great sex and my best friend.”

Steve sighs heavily. “She deserves better than that, Buck. You know that.” His voice is full of disappointment. The same tone Bucky has been getting for years when it came to his relationships. 

“Like you?” His tone is defensive and his words are meaner than they should be. Bucky knows all Steve wants is for his friends to be happy. “She’s a grown woman. She can decide who she wants to have sex with.” 

“Come on, Buck. You’re not an idiot. She’s had a crush on you for years.” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is a great way to drive her away and lose her for good.” 

“I’m not-”

“All,” Steve raises his voice to cut Bucky off, “I’m saying is she’ll figure out this isn’t what she wants and find someone who can give it to her. Then you’ll be left in the dust realizing what an idiot you were for letting your irrational fears talk you out of being with her.”

Bucky runs his tongue over his lips. “Who? Are you gonna steal her?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Will it be stealing when you’re the one who drives her away?”

》

His bed is empty when you wake up, but that’s no surprise, you knew Bucky ran Sunday mornings with the guys. You almost expect to feel more shame or pain over falling into this friends with benefits thing. But, you feel okay. Bucky was still your best friend. Just with mind-blowing sex. He didn’t kick you out at night and didn’t seem put off by you. 

Your phone vibrates somewhere in his room from the inside of your clutch. You groan and finally move to sit up. Bucky has picked your things up and folded everything into a neat pile on the top of his dresser. Your clutch is sitting on the top of the pile and you can see the vibrations of your phone shaking it slightly. 

You pick his shirt up from the floor and slide it on before reaching for your underwear underneath the clutch. 

When you pull your phone out you see a few missed calls from Wanda, one last night the one you’ve just missed. You crawl into Bucky’s bed again and call her back. 

“Hey!” You smile at Wanda’s voice. “I called you last night, but I forgot you had that lawyer thing.” You can imagine her nose scrunching up in disgust at the idea. 

You mess with a loose thread on the comforter. “Yeah. Buck dragged me along.” There’s silence on the other end. You sigh heavily. “Shit. Wanda. You’ll never guess what I did last night.” 

Your eyes take in the room. Bucky doesn’t have many decorations or knick knacks, but he has a couple pictures sitting on his nightstand. You move to his side of the bed and pick one of them up. 

“You go home together?” Wanda doesn’t need to guess, there’s a twinge of disappointment in her voice but all you can focus on is the sadness you hear. Like she’s just hurting for you at this point. 

You stare down at the photo in your hand. It’s from Bucky’s last birthday. “We live together.” You defect. The photo is the two of you sitting at your kitchen counter with two glasses of wine in front of you. The wine is red and you can faintly see it staining both of your lips. His arm is wrapped loosely around your waist and you’re pressing a kiss his cheek. The photo makes your heart ache. “You sleep in your room?” Wanda laughs. You drop the photo on the bed in front of you. “You’ve gotta tell him. Tell him how you feel, really.” She urges you. 

You’re shaking your head even though she can’t see you. “It’ll ruin everything.” You say quietly. Losing him would be worse than loving him like this. “We... We agreed on a benefits thing last night. I think it can work.” 

“That’s a great way to get hurt.” Wanda says. You glance at the other picture he has sitting on his nightstand. 

It’s a photo of him and Steve. The two of them are children standing with hands wrapped tightly around the straps of their backpacks and they’ve got bright smiles on their faces. You smile at the sight, both boys happy, carefree and full of life.

Bucky’s left arm is still flesh in the photograph. He doesn’t talk about the accident much, he had come out with one arm and a completely changed person. Sometimes you wonder if things would be different if it had never happened.

You hear the front door slam shut. “I’ve gotta go! I’ll talk to you later.” You hang up before Wanda can say anything else. You leave the picture frame sitting in the bed, moving quickly from Bucky’s room to your own. 

》•

Bucky’s bedroom door is open when he gets home, but you’re nowhere to be found. Your clothes still sit on his dresser and there’s a picture frame partially covered by his comforter that makes Bucky pause.

It’s his favorite picture of you two, wine stained lips and happiness radiating off of you. He wonders what had made you grab it and what had made you drop it. Steve’s words come to mind she’s had a crush on you for years. 

Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He had seen the nervous smiles and bright eyes in college, he had done everything he could to stay just friends with you and it had seemed to work. You had moved on. Boyfriends and flings had come and gone, your eyes had shifted into a caring stare and you stopped nervously fidgeting with your hands around him, so Bucky had assumed your crush went away. Even now there was nothing that really stood out as you liking him. It sounded like Steve was making assumptions to mess with Bucky’s head. And it was working.

He stares at the picture for another moment before placing it back on his nightstand. Bucky wasn’t afraid of relationships, Steve was wrong, he just hated how they ended. He wasn’t afraid of holding hands or expensive dates, he was afraid of the unavoidable hurt and falling out of love that would cause him to lose you.

He couldn’t lose you.

“Bucky?” Your voice jolts him from his thoughts and his head turns from the photo to you, standing in his doorway in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair shorts. “What should we order for lunch?”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before smiling up at you. “We should get some wraps from that cafe down the block.”

“That sounds good.” You smile. Your eyes move over him and Bucky has to look away. You’ve always been good at studying him and knowing if something was up. “Everything okay?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I’m just thinking.” He offers a tense smile that makes you step further into his room. Bucky’s eyes move from your bare feet up your legs to your face that’s watching him with concerned eyes.

“That can’t be good.” You tease as you take a seat next to him. You rest your head against his shoulder and Bucky feels a little calmer with you next to him. “What’s got you spacing out like that, Buck?” You ask gently.

“You’re not…” Bucky swallows thickly and looks down at his lap. “You’re not gonna leave me, right? This isn’t gonna fuck us up?”

He feels you tense against his side and begins to panic until your hand intwines with his. “Not if we promise not to let it fuck us up. You’re my best friend, Buck. I don’t wanna lose you either.”

“I promise.” Bucky squeezes your hand. “Do you?”

You squeeze his hand in return, but don’t say anything. Bucky takes the action as promise enough.

》•

Days turn into weeks which turn into months and suddenly it’s November, fall in New York becoming winter much sooner than expected. The cold bites at your cheeks and seeps into your bones. Bucky becomes your warmth despite the constant ache in your heart at what you really are to him. 

Bucky comes into your room or you sneak into his. You ignore the looks from your friends when you all go out and don’t heed to any of Wanda’s advice.

The lines are blurred to you, because it feels like you’re in a relationship. It’s almost like you’ve fallen into one naturally. It’s not just secret sex in the middle of the night. It’s all your normal things, reading together on Sundays and watching your favorite show together Saturday nights. Only now it’s started to include footsie and make-out sessions.

There are some nights the two of you go out, whether it to be to dinner or to see a new movie, and they feel like dates. Bucky never lets you pay and holds your hand in the theater.

You almost want to ask him Why. Why aren’t we official? Why can’t you call me your girlfriend? But you’re far too afraid. For every small gesture that feels like love, there are nights out with your friends where Bucky ignores your existence or awkward introductions to coworkers you run into at the movie theater. 

Life moves on though. Day by day. Even if feels like you’re on a train moving full steam ahead towards a wall and impact is inevitable. 

It’s nice to have a taste of what it could be like to have him. 

》•

It blows up on a Thursday night, at eight thirty-two pm, to be exact. 

Bucky didn’t feel like cooking, he was relieved when you had suggested going out to grab dinner, but now he just wishes the two of you had stayed home.

There’s a tense and awkward silence as the two of you walk home. You’re about ten feet in front of him and not talking at all, it honestly looks more like he’s some creep following you home at this point. If he weren’t so upset he would probably laugh at the scene. 

If Bucky had just kept his mouth shut.

“Oh my god.” You groan, slouching down in your seat and covering your face with your hands. “Fuck.”

Bucky looks between you and the entrance of the restaurant confused by your sudden annoyance. “What’s wrong?” He asks leaning towards you.

“I went to high school with that girl.” You whisper. “We were friends until I stole her boyfriend.” You roll your eyes.

Bucky chokes on his drink mid-sip. “You stole her boyfriend? Right on! I didn’t know you had that in you.” He laughs, completely shocked by the idea of a you in high school who steals guys when all he’s ever known is the sweet, loyal girl.

“I didn’t actually steal her boyfriend!” You hiss. Bucky notices the girl do a double take when her eyes catch on you. “He broke up with her and asked me to prom two weeks later so she assumed I stole him. She hated me and made the last few months of senior year absolute shit for me.” You explain slipping further into your seat before taking a heavy sip of wine.

“Incoming.” He chuckles as she makes a beeline for your table. You sit up ramrod straight when her hand lands on your shoulder and your name comes out in a fake giggle.

“Eliza.” Your smile is equally as fake as you stand up to offer her a quick hug. “How are you?” Bucky watches with amused eyes as Eliza launches into a story about her boyfriend, who’s watching the scene with bored eyes from across the restaurant.

He smiles awkwardly when the two of you turn to face him. “This is my boyfriend, Bucky.” You smile tightly at the woman and Bucky watches uncomfortably as she trails her eyes over him. “Really?” Eliza asks.

“Just friends, actually.” Bucky can’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth with an awkward laugh.

Your eyes narrow at him before they flicker away. Bucky watches in what feels like slow motion as your shoulders hunch in and you close yourself off, absolutely embarrassed as Eliza turns to you with a proud smirk. “Is that right?” Her tone is nasty and Bucky is filled with regret immediately, but there’s nothing he can do because you’re grabbing your purse and jacket and storming away.

Eliza smiles at him. “She’s always been one for the dramatics.” Bucky shakes his head as he pulls out some bills and leaves them on the table, moving the chase after you. “Thanks.” He says to the woman sarcastically as he pushes past her.

That had lead him here, trailing after you silently, as you fume from a distance. “Sweetheart, come on.” Bucky pleads. The words make you freeze and spin around to face him. 

Bucky stumbles backwards as you walk towards him with fury in your eyes and your finger pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t call me that.” 

“I’ve always called you sweetheart,” Bucky frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just-”

“You didn’t embarrass me, James.” Bucky flinches as you spit out his first name like it’s poison. “You humiliated me. Was it really that big a deal? That I introduced you as my boyfriend? Does the idea of dating me disgust you that much?” 

Bucky throws his hands out in front of him in a defensive gesture. “No! I just... We’re not dating. You know that!” He shakes his head. “I mean, dating you doesn’t disgust me... I just... You know?” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “No. I don’t know.” You say coldly. “It’s not like we’re not dating. You have to see that.” 

“See what?” Bucky asks, completely exasperated. “We do everything we used to do and sometimes have sex.” 

“Oh my god!” Your laugh sounds manic as you pause and look up at the sky like you’re searching for an answer. “Have you ever thought that maybe we weren’t ever just friends, Bucky? That we didn’t act like normal best friends do?” You cross your arms and look back at him. 

Yes. Bucky thinks immediately. “No!” He swallows. “I’ve always seen you as my best friend! Never... Never...” He’s dug himself a deeper and deeper hole every time he’s opened his mouth, but this is the nail in his coffin. He says your name gently, but you’re already backing away, hurt all over your face. 

“I guess I read everything wrong then.” You say quietly. “These stupid dates and us falling asleep together at night. All the holding hands and cuddling, right?” Your voice is filled with wet emotion and Bucky is sure if it wasn’t so dark outside he would see tears brimming your eyes. “You do that with all your friends. I mean nothing.”

“That’s not what I said!” Bucky exclaims. “You know you’re one of the most important women in my life. Please. Don’t do this.” He pleads. 

“I’m done. Okay? This stupid benefits thing? These friend dates, Sunday mornings together, movies? Done with all of it.” You hiss. You suck in a deep breath, like you’re preparing to deliver the final blow. Bucky braces himself. “You wanna be just friends? I’ll do you one better, we can be just roommates. That way there’s no confusion.”

Bucky can only stand still, watching as you walk away. 

》

Wanda has a kind enough heart to not say I told you so, when you show on her doorstep with mascara running down your cheeks. She just pulls you inside by your arm and wraps her softest blanket around your shoulders. 

“What happened?” She places a cup of tea on her coffee table in front of you. You can vaguely hear Vision trying to move around in the kitchen as quietly as possible. There’s an unspoken question that lingers in the air. What did Bucky do?

You sniffle. “We ran into Eliza tonight.” Wanda’s eyes widen and you nod. “I… I introduced Bucky as my boyfriend. It just slipped out, but he totally panicked and corrected me right to her face. I was so humiliated, I bolted.”

Wanda takes the seat beside you on the couch. “That’s awful. I can’t believe that idiot,” she hisses the word, “couldn’t put aside his dumb fears for five seconds and just have your back.”

You rub your eyes harshly. “That’s not the worst part of the night. I think the worst part was when he reiterated we were just friends and that he’s never seen me as anything more than that.” 

Wanda’s mouth drops open in shock and you can even hear Vision murmur something along the lines of oh shit in the kitchen. 

“Good way to get hurt, huh?” You reiterate Wanda’s words from weeks ago and her face falls into a look a pity. “I’m so stupid. Why did I even agree to doing benefits with him?”

“We all do dumb things when we love someone.” She says soothingly as she rubs her hand across your back. “I know this hurts, but look at the silver lining. Now you can move on, for real. Bucky’s made his intentions clear and you can find someone better.” 

You look at her sadly. “What if there isn’t someone better?” You almost choke on your own breath as you talk through your tears. “What if no one makes me feel that way?”

Wanda shakes her head and reaches up to grip your chin between her fingertips. It forces you to look into her blazing eyes. “Bucky’s nothing more than a man with commitment issues. We’re in New York City, there are millions of them. And for every Bucky, there’s a…a…”

“Vision.” You offer up with a teasing smile. Wanda blushes, but nods. “There’s a Vision. And yours is out there, he was just waiting for Bucky to fuck up.” 

You let out a choke laugh. “Yeah…” You trail off. “Can I crash here? I don’t think I can-“

“-Of course.” Wanda cuts you off. “For as long as you need.”

》

Bucky doesn’t even want to go inside. He just stands outside his apartment door staring blankly at the lock. It doesn’t feel like home without you there. 

You haven’t been home in three days and if it weren’t for your instagram stories with Wanda and Vision, Bucky would think you were dead.

You haven’t reached out at all, he isn’t sure if you had come by the apartment to grab personal things and when he had asked the guys if they had heard from you, Steve had just given him an I told you this would happen lecture. 

Bucky feels like a fucking idiot. Bucky is a fucking idiot. He shoves his key into the lock with a sigh. 

“Bucky?” A voice calls out. It makes him freeze in the doorway. It’s your voice. He’s sure it is. Nobody else had a key to the apartment. You pop out of the kitchen with a smile. “It is you!”

Your demeanor has done a complete flip. There’s no harsh stare or fiery eyes, just smiles. It leaves his head spinning. For the past three days he’s been trying to figure out how to make things better and you’re…fine? 

“He…hey.” He pushes the word out. “Um. What are you doing here?” 

Your brows furrow. “I live here?” You laugh softly before turning back into the kitchen. Bucky follows you dumbly, completely awestruck by your sudden reappearance. 

“I thought… I thought you were mad at me?” He asks hesitantly. 

“I was. Now I’m not.” You shrug. You move around the kitchen easily, putting groceries away that Bucky hadn’t even noticed with his entire focus on you. 

He moves towards you. “Sweetheart-“

You interrupt him with your name and suddenly the fire is back in your eyes. Oh. This isn’t Bucky’s best friend coming back into his life. 

It’s his roommate coming back home. 

Just like you had promised. 

》•

Bucky tries to catch you some days. He’ll tilt his head in an attempt to force your eyes to meet his while you talk about nothing after he gets home from work. 

You always avoid them, terrified one look into the blue you’ve loved for so long and you’ll crumble at his feet. You chatter about nothing important, the weather outside and your neighbor upstairs who always stomps around at four in the morning. 

Bucky always listens intently and you begin to feel a little guilty for cutting him out completely. You just needed some time to get over him, then one day you could come home and watch Law and Order with him again and cook dinner together. 

But for now, you pretend he’s nothing more than a roommate and like you’re not desperately in love with him. 

It’ll work. It has to work. 

》

Your name is like honey coming from Steve’s lips. He’s got a kind smile on his face as he hands over your coffee. He had slipped behind you in line at the coffee shop with a sheepish hello.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as you take it from him. “I can pay for my own coffee.” You can see the ingredients scribbled onto the side of his paper cup and it makes you smile into your sip.

Steve Rogers had a sweet tooth. 

“Day off? Or just a break?” You hold the coffee shop door open for him to follow you out onto the street. Steve gives you a thankful smile. 

“Break. I’m heading back to the office now.” He takes a sip of his drink. There were two weeks left of November and the streets of New York were doing their annual flip. Christmas lights going up too early and gloomy skies overhead.

You walk beside him, one hand shoved into your pocket. “Mind if I walk with you? I’m off today and I am so bored just sitting around the apartment.” 

“Not at all!” Steve answers quickly. There’s a slight flush on his cheeks that you attribute to the wind nipping at both your cheeks. “I could use the company of someone other than corporate lawyers.” 

You laugh at his dramatic eye roll. “You know most of your friends work at that firm.” Steve gives you an unapologetic smile. “Two friends and I can admit they can both be dicks sometimes.” 

He looks at you like he knows something and you swallow, turning to look straight ahead of you. “I disagree.” You finally say after a moment. He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Sam is always a sweetheart.”

That startles a laugh out of Steve, who looks at you with a shine in his eyes. He shakes his head and looks down at the sidewalk in front of him. “You okay? I know that-“ 

“-I’m fine.” You cut him off. You look up at him with a half smile. “And we don’t have to talk about it. In fact, let’s not.” You force out a laugh and Steve nods slowly.

You end up walking the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Steve has a reassuring presence, something you don’t think you’ve ever even realized until now. Warmth radiates off of his body and his eyes give everything he feels away. Steve is a good apple. At least that’s what your grandmother would say if she had met him.

“This is me.” Steve says softly as he slows to a stop outside the corporate building. If you look around you’ll notice every building near by looks almost exactly the same. “Thanks for walking with me.” He says softly with a nervous smile.

You smile back. “Thanks for buying me coffee.” You hold it up towards him as if to show him. “And for letting me tag along.”

Steve shakes his head. You’re sure he has to get back to work soon, you know their days are usually full and small breaks like this were just that - small. “You don’t have to thank me. I… I like hanging out with you. You’re cool.” He scrunches his nose up when he realizes what he’s just said but you giggle.

“Cool?” You ask with a teasing smile. Steve looks down at his feet with red dusting his cheeks. “I think you’re cool too.” The words are soft as you nudge his boot clad foot with yours.

Steve looks up with bright eyes. “Yeah?” You nod and he smiles to himself. “We should… We should hang out more.” He suggests hesitantly.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. Steve looks about two seconds away from being sick with nerves and it’s sweet. Completely and utterly tooth rottingly sweet that someone is this nervous around you. Your heart picks up at him wanting to hang out more.

“Like dates?” You question quietly. Steve turns a bright shade of right and you’re reminded of Bucky blurting his secret out weeks ago. “I would like that.” You don’t give him a chance to respond to your first question.

He smiles so bright that you’re blinded by it. “Yeah?” You nod with a small smile. “Yeah. Now go back to work!” You shove his shoulder lightly which makes him laugh. “You have my number.”

He’s nodding happily as he backs away. “I do! I’ll text you?”

“Please!” You laugh as he pushes through the glass doors backwards, almost running over a women. He smiles awkwardly at her before facing you once again. You wave as he disappears into the crowd of people. 

When he’s out of sight you let out a sigh. He was kind and incredibly endearing. Steve was a man every woman would be lucky to date. Why did you feel so guilty for flirting then? 

You know why. 

You ignore it.

》

Bucky watches with pursed lips from his spot by the front desk as you and Steve chat outside. He tries his best to read lips, but your both standing at an angle that makes it near impossible.

“You’re not creepy at all.” The voice makes him jump and he turns to look at Sam, leaning against the opposite side of the reception desk. Martha, the woman who runs the desk, looks between them in amusement. “Steve is some kind of psychic, huh?” He snorts.

Bucky turns his glare onto Sam. “It’s not my fault they’re out there for everyone to see.” He snaps before turning his eyes back on the scene in front of him.

Sam laughs loudly and Bucky watches his Steve embarrasses himself by running into a girl leaving the building. He would feel better about it, if he couldn’t see you smiling brightly at the man.

Bucky loves Steve, but he wants nothing more than to punch him in the face for not staying away from you. Even though Bucky is fully aware you’re both adults with minds of you own, he had never imagined Steve would actually sweep you off your feet.

When Steve makes his way towards Sam and Bucky, Sam has got a cheesy smile on his face and Bucky can do nothing but glare. “Got myself a date, boys.” He smacks a hand against Bucky’s back.

“It’s like… She was run right into my arms.” He smirks before making his way towards the elevator. Sam follows behind Steve with another loud laugh.

Bucky is left standing in the lobby alone. He watches your form retreat across the street and sighs. He had made a mess of things, huh?

》

You can’t get the dress to zip up all the way. You’ve tried a multitude of angles, from pulling the dress up and trying to reach it over your shoulder to almost breaking your arm at an awkward angle.

You sigh in defeat as you stand in front of your mirror. You can hear Bucky in his room across the hall, music playing a little too loud and his footsteps around the room. He’s got his cleaning playlist on, it forces a small smile to appear on your face.

You suck in a deep breath. Roommates helped each other with zippers. It was normal, Bucky could help you with a zipper.

“Bucky.” You knock softly on his door. There’s no answer, he probably can’t hear anything over the music. You knock harder. “Bucky?” The music stops and you suck in a nervous breath.

His door flies open and his eyes widen when he sees you standing in the half zipped dress. His eyes narrow. “What’s up?”

Your fingers fidget in front of your stomach as you look at him nervously. “Can you… Can you help me zip the rest of the way? I just can’t get it.” You admit sheepishly.

Bucky nods. “Turn around.” He orders softly and you do as he says. His fingers find the zipper stuck halfway up your back and your breath hitches. You think you hear his do the same as he begins to pull it up slowly.

It’s a tense silence as his hands rest on your back for a second too long. When he drops them back to his side, you turn to look at him. He shuts his eyes tightly and sighs. “Listen. About what happened-“

There’s a knock at your door that makes you step away. You look at Bucky apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” You take a few stumbling steps away.

You feel his eyes on you as you move through the apartment and collect your purse and jacket. When you open the door, Steve is standing there with flowers and it makes you pause.

Bucky’s bedroom door slams shut when you pull the flowers into your own hand. His music starts playing again as you get them into water. You and Steve smile awkwardly at each other.

When Steve’s hand lands on your lower back to guide you out of the building, all you can think is Bucky’s hands there earlier, warmer and somehow softer, you try to ignore how wrong it feels.

You were moving on. It would get better.

》•

Bucky’s pathetic. That much he knows. Four drinks in and he’s missing you desperately. All he can think about is Steve’s hand on your back and how you look in that red dress.

Did you know it was Steve’s favorite color? Is that why you had worn it? He had seen the black lace of your bra underneath when zipping the dress for you, had you worn that on purpose too? 

He feels like he’s hit rock bottom. Like it can’t get worse than this. His best friend on a date with his other best friend who he wasn’t talking to anymore because he wanted a friends with benefits thing. 

I had other friends, he thinks. Friends who I could stand to lose. Why did I want her? Why did I do that?

Annoyingly enough, Steve’s voice is what answers him. You’re in love with her. The words make Bucky jolt up in his seat because, well, he’s never thought that before. He’s always known he loved you in a platonic sense and that he cared for you deeply, but being in love with you?

That can’t be it. Bucky didn’t really do being in love. He’s seen what that does to people. He saw what it did to his mother, heartbroken and left with two kids to raise on her own. He’s seen what heartbreak has done to Becca, who used to lock herself away in her room and spend hours crying over boys who weren’t worth it.

He snorts to himself, taking another sip of his drink. They say you can only go up from from rock bottom. Bucky thinks he’s got some kind of special ability to go lower though as he stares at his phone. 

He wants to text you and beg you to come home. He calls his mom instead. “Ma?” He asks quietly when she picks the phone up. “It’s Bucky.”

“I have caller ID. I know.” She lets out a laugh. “What’s up? You sound upset, my love.” She asks gently.

“I fucked up, Ma.” Bucky admits after a moment of silence. “I…” 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” She sounds panicked and Bucky immediately feels bad for worrying her. 

“No I mean, like, with Y/N. I fucked up with her.” He explains. His mother inhales sharply at the sound of his best friends name.

“What happened?” She asks softly, almost knowingly.

“We… I… I’m not meant for relationships? You know? Love? It always ends bad so I told her we could just be friends with some benefits.” He feels a little embarrassed sharing this with his mother, but he doesn’t have anybody else to turn to. “And I fucked it up. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too.” Bucky can admit that he blurred the lines. That he didn’t treat you like just a friend, but when had he ever? You’d always been a little closer than normal friends. 

“Oh Bucky.” His mother murmurs, her tone isn’t disappointed, just sad. “I’m so sorry your father did this to you.” Bucky rubs a hand over his face. “Ma-“ 

“-No, Bucky. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the value of romantic love. Of love that keeps you warm and love that makes your heart race.” She says quietly. 

“It always ends in heartbreak. I don’t need it.” He says defensively. It’s silent, Bucky listens to his mom breathe before finally whispering, “What if I’m like him? What if I ruin her life?” 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re nothing like him.” Her voice cracks. “You’re good. You’re a good man. You’re empathetic. You care deeply. You don’t have to be afraid of ending up like him, you’ve already proven you won’t.” 

“Doesn’t feel like that.” Bucky lets out a short laugh. “Feels like I already am.” 

“James Buchanan Barnes. I am not going to sit here and listen to you talk about yourself like this. You’re not like him because you see what you’ve done wrong. Because you feel remorse.” She says heatedly. “Your father never felt bad for what he did or who he hurt, that’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you better.” 

Bucky wipes hastily at the tears that he hadn’t realized were falling down his cheeks until now. Has he always been this much of a light weight? Full of emotion and regrets that are only amplified by his drunkenness. 

“I love that girl like she’s my own.” His mother’s voice brings him back. “So, what are you gonna do to fix this? I already bought her Christmas present.” 

Bucky laughs. His chest feels a little lighter. “Leave her alone.” He answers genuinely. He can almost see his mother’s mouth open in protest. “She’s on a date with Steve. I can’t ruin that for either of them.” 

There’s a sigh on the other end of the line. “You’re a good man, Bucky. Every good man makes mistakes. It’ll all work out.” She says vehemently. 

“I love you, ma. Thank you.” Bucky looks at the bottle in front of him. “I love you too. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She asks gently. “Okay.” He nods as she hangs up. 

Her words help, but he’s still filled with guilt as he thinks of you. He had never wanted things to become this messed up with you. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate him.

Then why’d you do it? Bucky pulls at his hair. Since when was his subconscious so annoying? Was it the drinks? It’s your voice next. I mean nothing to you? 

“No. Shut up.” Bucky says to himself before standing up, his knee knocking against the coffee table painfully. He groans, but doesn’t stop moving. He feels like he’s going to be sick. He is going to be sick, he realizes as he forces the bathroom door open. 

He throws up. He’s not sure if it’s from the drinks or this overwhelming feeling of pure angst in his chest. A feeling that makes his lungs constrict and his heart ache.

He briefly wonders if this is heartbreak. And if it was, did that mean Steve was right? Bucky loved you?

He makes it back to the couch and starts a random movie in an attempt to stay up and wait for you. To talk or something. He was so, so sick of not talking to you.

But he falls asleep less than fifteen minutes later and he doesn’t hear you step into the apartment.

》•

“I had a really nice time tonight.” You say quietly. It’s almost midnight and you’re sure your neighbors wouldn’t appreciate you waking them up. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Steve stuffs his hands into his jacket pocket and gives you a grin. “Thanks for letting me take you out.”The two of you look at each other before breaking eye contact with awkward laughs. “We should do this again.”

You nod. “We should!” You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek before turning towards your door. “I’ll see you later, Steve.” You say softly before pushing the door open.

Steve gives you a short wave with a happy smile. “See you.” He begins to back away, down the hallway. “I’ll just.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder before spinning around to walk straight.

You laugh silently to yourself as you finally step into your apartment and shut the door behind you. With your eyes shut tightly, you lean your back against the door and let out a sigh.

Your silence is disturbed by a groan and your eyes shoot open. Bucky’s laying on the couch, one arm hanging off and a bottle of whiskey sitting almost completely empty in front of him.

“Oh, Bucky.” You let out a sad sigh as you drop your purse and keys on the entryway table. His eyes are squeezed shut, you can tell he’s in a deep sleep.

When you stand in front of him, you push the stray hairs that are stuck to his sweaty forehead back. He’s flushed and you don’t know exactly how much he’s had to drink, but he was definitely drunk. You allow your nails to trace over his cheekbones and jawline in admiration.

You move away, suddenly aware of what you’re actually doing. You move quickly, picking up the empty glass and whiskey bottle and moving towards the kitchen. You leave the glass in the sink and stuff the bottle back into your drinks cabinet.

You think of just going back to your room, but you know you can’t leave Bucky shivering on the couch. You grab a clean glass and fill it with water before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. You pull out your travel Advil from your purse and sit it next to glass. His favorite blanket is draped over the back your lounge chair. You pull it off and drape it over him gently. Bucky snuffles then turns so his face is pressed into the couch.

You look down at Bucky again before leaving him in the room.

》

It’s like there’s a shift between you and Bucky after your date with Steve. You’re kinder and you seem to be more open with him again, while all Bucky wants to do is hide away in his room.

Every time you sit across from him in the living room or join him for dinner, he feels panic rise in him like vile and he ends up sitting tensely beside you.

Because you’re figuring your shit out. You want to be friends with Bucky again while Steve takes you out every weekend. It’s perfect. Going swimmingly, really.

Except, Bucky is falling apart. Every time you go out with Steve he makes himself sick thinking about what you’re doing. He’s stuck in this constant cycle of why does it hurt so much and you love her you love her you love her.

He just wants to scream so what? Even if he did love you, what did it matter? It’s not like it would change anything. You had never told him you loved him, you had only been angry because he had given you mixed signals. Now, you had moved on to someone easy, someone without commitment fears and who didn’t give you mixed signals.

So, even if he did love you, why would he say anything. Why would he ruin something good for you? He wanted to prove his mother right. He was better than his father, and he wouldn’t ruin something good for you. Not when he was the one who had driven you away. Sick sense of irony, the way this worked out.

》

You’re trying. You can tell Bucky is too. As you come further out of your shell again, he sticks to staunch boundaries and has ceased all of his old affectionate gestures. You know it makes sense and it’s for the best. Even if it does nothing but remind you of what you had grown used to with him before all this.

Besides, you couldn’t blame Bucky for not feeling the same way you did. Not when you had agreed to just benefits and not when you had never told him the truth. 

And Steve was sweet. Steve was gentle and kind and kissed you like you mattered. He held your hand in public and introduced you as his date when you ran into people he knew.

He was good. You cared for him, a lot, and you were desperate for it to work out. For it to work out with Steve and for it to work out with Bucky.

That’s how this night started. These thoughts and a plan. A stupid fucking plan for moving on. Drinks with everyone. Wanda, Vision, Sam, Steve… Bucky.

Bucky who was talking to a redhead at the bar. Bucky who you couldn’t stop staring at as he smiled and charmed her. Your fist tightened around your glass as you watch her nails inch towards his hand.

“Another round of drinks?” Sam’s voice pulls you from your stare. You shake your head to yourself and glance around table. Everybody’s glasses are empty except yours. “I’ll go!” You offer as you drain the last of your drink quickly.

You stand up before anybody at the table can question it. “I can help you.” Steve goes to stand, but you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s up there. I’m sure he’ll help!” You give him a big smile, one that he answers with furrowed eyebrows. You don’t think much of it as you spin on your heel and make a beeline for the bar.

You don’t see the look Wanda shoots you or the glance Sam and Steve share. You stop right behind Bucky and lean on the counter as you order then you tap him on his shoulder.

He spins quickly. “What’s up? Everyone okay?” He asks, his eyes shifting between you and the table of your friends.

“Yeah!” You give him a small smile. “I was sent for drinks and I didn’t realize how many there were. Think you could help?”

He glances between you and the redhead, who’s giving you a kind smile as she waits. You smile in return before looking up at Bucky again. “Please?” You tack on with a pout.

Bucky laughs. “Yeah. Whatever.” He looks down at the woman again. “You wanna join us? Promise everyone is super cool.”

Your eyes widen as the drinks are placed in front of you. She wasn’t supposed to come. This was supposed to… You pause.

This was supposed to get him away from her. Back to your side.

“Yeah!” You give her a fake smile. “You should join us, we could always use more girls.” You chuckle as you lift three glasses.

Bucky grabs the other three before looking at the woman in question. She shrugs before grabbing her own glass to follow after you two.

You hand out the glasses before taking your seat beside Steve again. He arm comes up to rest behind your chair and you can’t shake the urge to push it off.

“Guys, this is Natasha.” Bucky gestures to the woman besides him before pulling a chair out for her. “Natasha. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Sam.” He points everyone out before finishing off with you. She smiles politely at all of you. You grind your teeth as he sits beside her.

The group seems to take a liking to her right away. She laughs at Sam’s jokes and compliments Wanda’s engagement ring. You’re burning with jealously as Bucky flirts in front of all of you.

It’s wholly irrational, a sober you would know that this jealously doesn’t really make sense. Three mixed drinks in though and it feels like Bucky is doing this to hurt you.

It feels like he’s showing you what he could never do with you. He never flirted with you in front of your friends or allowed his hand to inch towards yours on the table in front of them.

Bucky was secretly affectionate with you. It was tangled feet on Sunday mornings and cuddling Saturday nights. Sex in the middle of night and… heartbreak the next morning.

So his drifting hand and charming smile directed towards Natasha is suffocating you with insecurity. What did she have?

“I’m going home.” You stand abruptly when Bucky leans towards her with a laugh. Your shaky on your feet and Steve reaches a hand out to stabilize you. Everyone looks at you with confusion. “I… I don’t feel good.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Steve stands immediately.

You shake your head. “No!” When he freezes and looks at you with hurt eyes you smile tightly. “I mean, I’m going to take a Lyft. You stay here, have fun.”

“At least let me wait with you. So you’re not in the cold alone.” He insists and you nod slowly.

You really want to be alone, to wallow in this feeling, but Steve was nice and of course he wouldn’t let you go alone.

You watch Bucky for a moment, like you expect him to say something, to offer to come with you. Like he always did, but his attention shifts back to Natasha as Steve’s arm wraps around your waist.

It’s silent as he guides you out of the bar and tense as you order the Lyft. “Fifteen minutes.” You say softly.

Steve nods and looks around the almost empty street. You open your mouth to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.

“What happened between you and Bucky?” He asks quietly, his hands stuffed into his jacket pocket, and his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

You swallow thickly. “He didn’t tell you?” You ask instead of answering the question.

“He told me you guys had a friends with benefits thing going on. Then he told me you didn’t.” He doesn’t look angry, just sad as he stares down at you. “You know Bucky, he doesn’t share a lot.”

You look down at the sidewalk, your heel scuffing against it nervously. “I don’t know. I read things wrong, I guess. I… I thought we had a chance?” Your tone is questioning and you let out a laugh in a self-deprecating manner.

“You still love him?” You eyes shoot up to meet Steve’s. You open your mouth to say something, anything, to turn this conversation around but the door opening takes your attention off of the conversation.

It’s Bucky and Natasha, laughing softly with one another. You turn away quickly and feel the vomit rise in your throat. “I’m gonna be sick.” You murmur before throwing up all over Steve’s shoes. He grimaces and takes a step back as the couple turns around at the sound of you.

Bucky calls out your name. You can’t look up, instead you drop to the ground and sit on the sidewalk ledge.“Are you okay?” Bucky kneels down beside you as you cough.

“I’m fine. You can go. Go.” You urge, unable to look up at him. Bucky doesn’t budge though, his hand coming up to push back the hairs stuck to your forehead. “Bucky. Please.” You groan.

“I’ll walk her home.” Bucky says to Steve, ignoring your pleas. “The air will do her some good and the car moving will only make her feel worse.”

Steve looks between you two hesitantly. “I don’t know, I can take her.” You still feel nauseous, especially at the idea of Steve who you’re pretty sure just broke up with you wanting to keep you away from Bucky for your comfort.

When you look up, Natasha is standing behind Bucky with worried eyes. You feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes as they move to Bucky. He smiles gently, his hand still resting against your cheek. “Let me walk you home, sweets.”

The nickname makes your heart soar. Months of nothing but your first name and you feel like you’re floating at the sound of it. “Okay.” You nod, your hand coming up to rest on his. “Okay.” You pull out your phone to cancel the Lyft.

He helps you stand. “I’ll see you.” He says apologetically to Natasha. She doesn’t look upset, in fact she smiles at him like she knows something you two don’t. “I’ll let you know when we get home.” He says to Steve, who nods before following Natasha inside.

You feel flushed and hot all over. A horrible mixture of drinks, jealously and nausea settling in your stomach. It makes you horribly dizzy and you’re forced to lean against Bucky heavily for support.

“One step at a time, sweets.” Bucky says softly, his metal arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

》

“Almost there.” Bucky exhales a deep breath as he all but carries you towards the couch. He’d given up on getting you down the hall, you had pretty much become dead weight and getting you down the hall to the apartment had taken a lot out of Bucky. “Few more steps, sweets.”

Bucky’s cheeks are red and his entire body is warm. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and he can’t help but feel his heart grow as you latch onto him.

“Easy. Easy.” He murmurs as he sits you down gently on the couch. You mumble incoherently as you head lands on the back of the couch.

He pulls away from you and pulls his phone out. Sorry to leave you, maybe we can catch up another time?

Maybe. As friends, of course.

Bucky glances at you before looking back down at his phone, he begins to type but another message pops up quickly.

I saw the way you looked at her, I don’t think you’re looking for a girlfriend! It’s okay :)

Bucky leaves the phone sitting on the coffee table as he focuses his attention back on you. You open your eyes and look at him sadly. “What’s wrong with me?” You ask quietly.

“Nothing.” Bucky responds immediately, his hand reaching out for your cheek. The moan of relief you let out at the coolness of his metal appendage goes straight through Bucky. “Nothing is wrong with you.” He forces his voice to stay steady.

He takes a seat next to you on the couch and drops his hand back to his lap. While you stare at the carpeted floor, Bucky’s eyes trail over you. He takes in the skin tight pants and soft sweater. The way your legs look makes him swallow thickly. You were beautiful and Bucky loved you. 

The thought makes him pause, but it doesn’t scare him nearly as much as he thought it would. He did. He loved you. He knew looking at you now that the months of questioning it and then trying to make himself believe it was just as a friend as you dated Steve, was all in vain. He loved you. Maybe he had loved this whole time. 

You look up at him suddenly, like you can hear his thoughts, and Bucky is frozen in his spot. You move towards him slowly and he can’t do anything but watch. 

You crawl into his lap and Bucky’s hands immediately rest on your waist to hold you steady. “What… What’re doing?” He can’t hide the shock in his tone. He has to hold back a moan as your hands come up to run through his hair. You left yanks gently at the hair on the back of his head to force him to look up at you and Bucky is unable to stop the moan from slipping out then.

You smile down at him cheekily. “Want you to fuck me.” Your already slurred words are murmured, so Bucky almost doesn’t understand you. “It’s been so long, Buck.” You grind down and he chokes on his own spit, not expecting his night to end like this.

“You gotta stop, sweets.” His grip on you waist tightens in an attempt to halt your movements. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He says, looking back up at you. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders and you shake your head. “I know I hated seeing you with her. I hate not having you. Please, I miss you.” You whisper pleadingly.

The words pain Bucky. “I miss you too, but you don’t want this.” He gently pushes you off of his lap and back onto the couch cushions beside him.

Your head falls to your hands while your elbows rest against your legs. “Why don’t you want me?” You look back up at him with wet eyes. Bucky freezes. Is that what you thought? That he didn’t want you? 

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I want you.” He admits, reaching out to pull your hands away from your face completely. You shake your head and pull yourself away from him. 

“If you wanted me you wouldn’t have flirted with her all night. In front of me. In front of our friends.” Bucky looks at you with wide eyes. How could you be upset with him over that when you had gone with Steve? When you had been dating Steve? 

“You’re with Steve.” He reminds you. “Am I supposed to not flirt with other people? You told me we were just roommates. We’re barely even friends!” He exclaims. 

“No! I told you that because you hurt me.” You wipe tears off of your cheeks. “You… You made me feel like I was something to you then told me I was just a fuck. I was hurt.” You explain. “God, you- I loved you so much and you just - just-“ 

“You love me?” Bucky cuts you off. He knows you’re drunk, but the words make his heart race. He feels his eyes soften as he stares at your form. 

The tears gathered in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks as you shake your head hastily. “Loved you. I loved you. But you didn’t love me, so I moved on.”

Bucky didn’t know it was possible to physically feel your heart break, but here he was, his heart cracking painfully as you look away from him.

“I’m so tired.” You whisper. “Why could you flirt with her in front of all our friends? Why… Why was I a dirty secret?”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to you. Doesn’t know how to explain to you that he wasn’t afraid of losing her the way he was you. He didn’t know her at all, he certainly didn’t know her the way he knew you.

“We should get you to bed.” Bucky stands abruptly. His hands come down to hold your arms gently as he helps you stand. “We can talk in the morning.”

You allow him to pull you up, it looks like you’ve given up on furthering the conversation. Bucky picks you up bridal style to carry you down the hall.

Your arms rest loosely around his neck. “Steve broke up with me.” You say as Bucky drops you onto your mattress. “He knows about us. He doesn’t want someone who… who…” You trail off before falling into a fit coughs.

“We’ll talk in the morning.” Bucky says softly, his fingers trailing over your cheeks. “I promise, sweetheart.” You already have a water bottle on your nightstand, so Bucky searches your vanity for Advil.

He leaves two pills beside the bottle. You’re already dozing off, your eyes fluttering shut, so Bucky leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. When he goes to pull back, your hand shoots out and wraps around his wrist. “Stay. Please.” You whisper.

Bucky hesitates for a second before nodding and sitting beside you on the bed as he pulls his shoes off. His heart races as he moves to lay beside you and he feels flushed as you curl into his side.

He allows himself to relax with you in his arms. It had been so long since you’ve been beside him like this and Bucky lets himself feel love as you do. 

Is this what he had been afraid of the entire time? 

》

You wake up hot, nauseous and with a pounding headache.

And something wrapped tightly around you. When you open your eyes fully, the first thing you see is a metal arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You groan when your eyes trail up and the sunlight streaming in from your window hits you.

A deeper groan is returned and it makes you freeze. You rack your brain for what happened last night, but all you could remember was getting sick outside the bar and Bucky taking you home. Had you said something? Had he?

You turn over in his arms and look up at him. His eyes are still closed and he’s letting out steady, soft breaths.

“Bucky.” You whisper, your hand coming up to rest against his chest. “Bucky, wake up.” You say a little louder.

His eyes snap open and immediately he pulls away from you. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. You… You…” He sots up and rubs a hand over his face.

“I don’t… What happened? I just remember you walking me home.” You sit up slowly. You’re still wearing your leggings and the sweater from last night. You groan. “I’m sorry I took you away from…” He shakes his head. 

“It’s okay. I offered. You asked me to stay when I got you into bed, I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable.” His apology is sincere and you suck in a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I don’t… You know I don’t mind falling asleep with you.” Neither of you move or say anything, just sit on opposite sides of your bed in awkward silence. “I-“

“I love you.” Bucky blurts effectively cutting you off. Your eyes widen and your pulse quickens as you stare at him. You had not been expecting that. “And… I’m sorry it took all of this. Not being friends, Steve, drinks, for me to realize, but I do. I think I’ve always loved you, I just… I didn’t know it.”

You shake your head as you try to process what he’s saying. “I don’t… I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”

“I… Seeing you with Steve. I didn’t… It killed me inside.” Bucky admits.

“And you think that means you love me?” You spit out. “You said it yourself, Bucky Barnes doesn’t do relationships.” You shake your head. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have my attention anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Bucky says adamantly. He turns his body on the bed so it’s facing you. “It made me realize I love you. It made me realize my favorite time of the day is when I get to spend time with you. That our Sundays spent reading and Saturdays watching Law and Order were always better than bars or parties because I was with you. I… I want to do the relationship things with you. Holding hands, just sleeping together. Telling people you’re my girlfriend.”

You stare at him tearfully. “How do you know it’s love? That you didn’t just miss me?”

“I know what it’s like to miss you. This feeling? This warmth in my chest when you’re around and the ache there when you’re gone? That’s not missing you. I...” He pauses. “I love you. And It’s okay if you don’t feel the same anymore-“

“-Anymore?” You question. Your eyes squeeze shut as you headache gets worse. “Bucky, what-“

“You told me you loved me last night. You were drunk, I know, but-“

“Fuck.” You laugh to yourself as you take in everything he has said. Pieces of last night come flashing back to your mind. Crawling into Bucky’s lap, crying, admitting you had loved him. “Oh God.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

“Bucky you don’t have to-“ You shake your head. “You don’t have to try and make this something it isn’t because you feel bad.”

“I’m not.” Bucky reaches a hand out to rest on your back. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

You look over at him. “Prove it.”

》

Steve meets him for coffee later that morning. You’re out with Wanda for Sunday brunch and Bucky is on his final stop of his apology tour. 

“Hey.” Steve looks up from his phone and smiles at Bucky. “Can I sit?” Bucky motions to the chair across from him and Steve nods.

Steve pushes a black coffee over to Bucky, whose nose scrunches up at the scent. Fair, Bucky thinks. “What’s up?” Steve asks quietly. “You missed our run this morning.”

Bucky looks down at the table. “I had some stuff to deal with. You know with-“ Bucky cuts himself when Steve nods. “Listen, I wanted to say I’m sorry. Shit was never supposed to get this messed up.”

Steve shrugs. “You tell her?” He gives Bucky a knowing smile. “That you love her?”

Bucky gives him a small smile in return. “I did. Yeah.” He taps his fingers against the table. “She’s got some, uh, trust issues with me. But it makes sense. We’re gonna take it slow.”

“I’m happy for you, Buck.” Steve admits after taking a sip of his drink. “I was never mad or angry with you. I always knew she still cared for you and I think I always knew it would never be anything serious.”

Bucky nods. “Thanks, Steve.” He looks down at his coffee with an appreciative smile.

“Besides,” Steve smirks, “Natasha is super cool. We exchanged numbers last night after she asked about what was going on between you two.”

》

Bucky invites you to spend Christmas with his family. You don’t even have to think about it before you say yes. Christmases with his family were always full of warmth and love; You absolutely loved it. 

You’re more excited to be here this year too, to celebrate with him in this way. As his girlfriend, you had heard him tell Rebecca over the phone when informing her of his plans to drive up to see them Christmas Eve. 

You had the perfect gift for him too, well, you have a few gifts for him. Most of them could wait for Christmas with his mom and sister, but there were two you were just desperate to see his reaction to.  

That’s why you slip out of his room in the early hours of the morning when the sky is still dark and everybody is asleep. 

That’s how Bucky wakes up, a small, wrapped box sitting on the nightstand and you nowhere to be found. Bucky eyes the box warily before looking around the rest of his bedroom. Your suitcase is unzipped and he can tell it’s be riffled through before being shoved back into the corner os his room.

His door is pushed open quietly. “Why are you up?” His voice makes you jump and spin so your back slams against the door. Bucky has to bite back a laugh as you take a couple deep, calming breaths. 

“I...I was going to wake you up.” You tip toe across the room and crawl into bed beside Bucky. You suck in a deep, nervous breath. While you and Bucky had been dating for the past few weeks, you had also been taking it slow. “For gifts.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow as he sits up a little straighter in bed. “Gifts? It’s five in the morning, I promise Becca and my mom are in such deep sleep we couldn’t wake them if we tried.”

Kind of what I’m banking on, you think. “No. I mean.. Our gifts, for each other.” You explain in a soft voice, before reaching over to pick up the small box you had left sitting on the nightstand. “I didn’t want to give you this in front of your family and I don’t think I can wait.” You admit a little sheepishly. 

Bucky looks down at the box with a soft smile. “Just let me get one of your gifts.” He sits it down on the comforter before crawling out of the bed and moving to his suitcase. He picks up a small box, wrapped in the same gift paper his is because he had stolen your roll, and smiles up at you.

He hands it over and the two of you just stare at each other with bright, happy smiles before tearing into the wrapping paper at the same time. Your mouth drops open in shock when you open the box.

A bracelet is staring back at you. A silver band filled with charms that make you smile as you run your fingertips over each one. Your alma mater’s mascot. The Brooklyn Bridge. A bottle of wine. “Buck...” You trail off in awe. “This is beautiful.”

“Sweets.” He says the nickname gently and you look up to watch him pull the watch out of the box with a small smile. “This is...” He flips it over in his hand and his eyes widen when he notices the engraving on the back.

the best lovers start as friends.

“I love you.” He runs a finger of the engraved metal as you whisper softly, “I... I’ve loved you for so long, Buck, and having your love in return is unlike anything I could have imagined.” 

Bucky drops the watch on the bed between you as he reaches across to pull you into a bruising kiss. You drop your own gift onto the bed and reach up to rest a hand on his chest. 

“I love you.” Bucky pulls away to whisper the words. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He punctuates each sentence with a kiss to your skin. You giggle softly as he moves towards you and his hand settles on your waist. 

“I have something else for you.” You pull away to remove the bracelet and watch from the bed. Bucky watches as you move so you’re on your knees with intrigued eyes. You smile coyly as you move to pull his shirt over your head. 

Bucky lets out a low moan as his eyes trail over your body, covered in dark green lace. “What’s this?” His fingers come up to trace over the lace and leave goosebumps in their wake. 

“Your second gift.” You murmur breathlessly as he fingers drift lower and lower. Bucky smirks as he leans towards you and presses a kiss to your neck, then across your collar bone until he’s trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts. 

He pulls away after a moment and looks up at you questioningly. “Are you sure?” 

You smile down at him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I wouldn’t have dropped this much money on lingerie if I wasn’t sure.” His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he pulls your body flush against his. 

“What did I do to deserve a gift like this?” He looks up at you with a bright smile. You run a hand through his hair. “Love me.” You answer genuinely. Red dusts Bucky’s cheeks at your words as you lean in to kiss him. 

You shift so you’re straddling Bucky’s lap. “Gonna fuck me?” You murmur in question against his lips. Bucky moans against you and his hips buck up involuntarily. His hand drops from your waist to your thigh and he trails his fingertips up. 

“You look so pretty, sweets.” He smirks up at you as his hand pushes the lace aside. He runs the tip of his index finger over your wet folds and you push down already wanting more from him. “Patience, sweetheart. Let me take you in. I wanna enjoy my gift.”

You moan as he begins to rub slowly against your clit. “Want you to ride my thigh first, sweets.” Bucky shifts you so your legs are straddled over his left thigh.

You moan as your clit rubs against his thigh. You pull at the waist band and his sweatpants and he helps you pull them off of his legs before situating your body back over him. “Fuck.” You let out a deep sigh as his hands land on your hips.

His eyes are dark and pupils blown as he stares at you above him. Bucky’s already hard, you can see his dick straining against his briefs. He doesn’t do more than lightly guide you by the hands on your hips, but his eyes watching you intently as you moan is enough to make your stomach twist in pleasure.

“Fuck, James.” He groans as his first name tumbles out of your mouth in a breathy moan. “You look so pretty on my thigh, sweetheart. I love watching you.”

He leans forward then, to press kisses across your breasts as you move back and forth against him. “Feels so good.” One of your hands twists in his hair and Bucky moans against your skin.

You move faster against him as you feel yourself get wetter. You moan his name like a mantra as Bucky’s hands grip you tighter and tighter.

Bucky’s hands force you to a stop. You whine at the lost of pleasure, but it’s not long before Bucky has you flipped so you’re laying on your back beneath him.

“Gonna fuck you, is that okay sweets?” He leans back to pull his shirt off and you nod hastily as your hands come up to pull at his briefs. It’s not long before you’re bare underneath him, the lace garments discarded to the floor of his bedroom.

“Gotta be quiet.” He runs his tip over you folds in a teasing manner that almost makes you moan out. Instinctively, your hips buck up with a quiet whine. His hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Don’t want Becca to hear. She’s just down the hall, sweets.”

It’s a warning and it makes heat spread through you. You’re not sure if it’s the idea that you could get caught in his childhood bedroom or the way Bucky’s voice deepens, but it makes you tired of waiting. “Please.” Your beg is muffled by his hand, but he hears it. He doesn’t wait any longer, he pushes himself all the way in and you both let out relieved moans at the feeling. “Fuck. Fuck. You always feel so good, baby.” 

Your back arches into his body as he begins fucking you at a slow pace. When he seems satisfied that you won’t make too much noise, his hand moves from your mouth he rests his forearm on the pillow beside your head. “James.” It’s a whispered moan that makes his hips stutter. “Faster. Please. I’ll be quiet.” You promise, your legs wrapping around him. Bucky leans down to press a bruising kiss to your lips as he fucks into you faster. You moan into his mouth as pleasure rushes through you. 

There’s something extremely intimate about the way he fucks into you, one hand holding onto your hip and another resting beside your head. It’s love, you realize when he pulls back to look at you with soft eyes. It does something to you, makes want rush through your veins and pulls the air from your lungs. “I love you.” You whisper into the space between you two, Bucky still pushing in and out of you. 

“I love you.” His eyes slide shut and his head falls to nuzzle into your neck. “You look at me like that again I’m not gonna last, sweets.” He press a gentle kiss to your neck before beginning to suck harshly. You’re sure there will be a mark there tomorrow that you’ll never live down, but you can’t bring yourself to care when his tongue runs over the mark and your stomach clenches in excitement. 

“Fuck. I’m so close, Bucky, please. I- I need-“ His hand is reaching between your bodies before you can spit the sentence out. His finger rubs against your clit as he quickens his pace. “Yes. Yes.” You moan, and you can immediately tell it’s too loud when Bucky freezes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You mutter, so close and desperate for him to resume his pace. 

“I know, I’m close too, but we can’t wake the house up.” You throw your head back and bite down hard enough to draw blood when he resumes his movements. He’s rubbing at your already sensitive clit and fucking you quickly, it’s all too much as your stomach tightens in pleasure. “Yeah. I can feel you, baby. Come for me, please. I need to feel you.” His tone is deep and possessive in your ear. 

When he slams into you hard, your orgasm washes over you. Your mouth opens in a moan that Bucky catches with a messy kiss. You can feel his hips stutter against you as he reaches his own high and releases into you. 

The two of you stay like that for a moment, just breathing with each other. “Merry Christmas.” You laugh softly as Bucky pulls out and moves to grab a towel from his desk chair. 

Bucky smiles as he comes to lay beside you again and wipes gently at your thighs.  He pulls the comforter up so it’s wrapped around both of you again and pulls you so your head rests against his chest. “Merry Christmas.” He whispers in return.

You glance out the window and find that it’s snowing again. You’ll probably be snowed in for the next few days, but you don’t really mind, not with Bucky here and in your arms the way you’ve always wanted. 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // this took weeks to finish and i truly hope whoever reads it through enjoys it! 

my writing is free & will remain free. if you enjoy it and you have the resources, consider donating to my ko-fi :)

[spacedikut]

how to ask a girl out ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: elle sees an opportunity to teach spencer about asking a girl out. 3275 words

a/n: based on this scene. this is the longest fic ive ever written so sorry if it’s a painful read 

Spencer feels creepy staring at you like this.

There’s no other way to put it. He feels like he’s twelve again, the youngest in his Las Vegas high school, staring at all the pretty girls that get his heart racing just by existing. But you’re more enchanting than those girls. He could watch you do anything, he thinks, because no matter what you’re doing you look picture perfect, like you don’t have a single bad angle.

Spencer still has the social skills of twelve year old him, though. Especially when dealing with cute people.

“You know,” The voice makes Spencer jump, “If you stare long enough, she just might notice.”

Elle is smirking with her arms crossed, shooting Spencer an incriminating look. He tenses.

Seeing his discomfort, Elle relents, “I’m teasing, Reid.” He visibly relaxes against the door frame he’s half hiding behind, half leaning against.

“I’m not trying to be weird.” He mumbles. Elle thinks he sounds like a kid that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I know you’re not. Have you… spoken to her?”

You’re somewhat new to the unit. Some kind of assistant to JJ who joined several months ago (three months and three days, if Spencer counted correctly) (he did), which means the team don’t see you that much, just enough that you’ve been the topic of discussion a few times. It doesn’t help that JJ sings your praise, and Hotch recently revealed you made yourself available for babysitting his new-born if he ever needs it. Every time someone mentions you, it’s followed by some kind of compliment. Everyone loves you. Spencer has said all of five words to you, and he’s smitten.

“Hi. I’m Spencer. A doctor.”

When you were introduced you didn’t pay him much attention. He can’t blame you, it was overwhelming for you – being introduced to a whole bunch of FBI agents and then thrown head-first into sorting cases for them. But Spencer paid attention. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Derek’s caught him staring one too many times, but it isn’t Spencer’s fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You enter the room and Spencer’s attention is pulled to you, like a magnet.

Derek thinks it’s time he made a move. Spencer agreed and maintained that confidence for all of fifteen minutes, until he heard your joyful laugh dance down the hallway and his tongue felt too heavy to form words.

That’s when Elle noticed.

Across the room, you’re laughing at something Derek said with JJ. Seeing you smile makes Spencer smile, and Elle nudges him.

“Have you considered approaching her? Rather than, you know, watching her from afar like she’s prey?”

Spencer huffs, “You think I haven’t tried?”

Every time he’s moved to start a conversation, he finds himself unable to complete a single sentence. After he says hello, then what? He dies?

Elle breathes through her nose in frustration. “She’s a nice girl. I’ve spoken to her a couple of times. She mentioned the other day she wants to visit the local museum, since she just moved and hasn’t really explored yet. Shame no one is available to accompany her, right?”

“Are you implying something?”

“Yes.”

“I-I don’t. I can’t-“

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Spencer’s always admired Elle’s ability to be blunt and fearless. But he isn’t Elle, Elle isn’t him, so to him it doesn’t feel like he simply chooses to pussy out of talking to you – it feels like he’s physically constrained. Like he’s fighting against the tide of the ocean to reach you, and he keeps getting pushed back, further and further away from you.

Elle’s eyes shift between you and Spencer, like she’s watching a tennis match. “Just go up and ask her. It’s that simple. If she says no, she says no. No big deal!”

Spencer shakes his head, “I can’t do that. It’s Y/N! She’s-she’s-“

“A normal human being. You know, like you and me? The second you start putting people on pedestals is when things start falling apart.” She pats him on the shoulder as encouragement, “Have some confidence, Reid.”

And she walks away, as if just telling him to have some confidence will make him suddenly have the courage to whisk you off your feet.

He wishes he could whisk you off your feet.

+++

The paperwork is never ending. Times like this, Spencer considers recanting his stance on technology – maybe having everything on an online database would be a good idea. The stacks upon stacks around him would agree.

A paper ball hits the back of Spencer’s head.

He turns, slowly, and Elle gives a wave from her desk. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can I… help you?”

“Yes, you can.” She nods to the paper on the floor, “Read it.”

He leans and grabs the ball from the floor, opening it with furrowed brows.

Step 1: Actually talk to her.

Suddenly, Elle is standing right next to him, looking all-too-pleased with herself. She leans over him.

“What does this mean?”

“You wanna date Y/N? Talk to her. That means marching right up to her pretty little face and saying more than, like, a few words to her. You need to have a conversation with her to let her know you’re interested.”

Elle’s clearly confident in her plan, but it seems she’s forgetting an important detail – this is Spencer that she’s dealing with. Not Derek, who can charm anyone out of anything (or into anything), not Hotch who, when he wants to be, is the smoothest criminal ever. Not even Gideon, with his soft eyes that make anyone that stares into them feel safe. He’s Spencer Reid who, according to one guy, looks like a pipe cleaner with eyes.

Spencer’s hesitant to take any of Elle’s advice.

“What would I… say to her?” He asks. If he does talk to you, what does he even say? Do you even want to talk to him? What if you immediately hate him and JJ beats him up? She could do it. He’s seen her guns.

Elle looks at him incredulously, “Reid! C’mon! Anything! Ask how her day has been, if she had a good weekend, are there plans for this weekend… Literally anything.” Spencer gives a look of distrust, “You’ll know if she’s interested, trust me. She’ll reciprocate. If she doesn’t, she’s not up for it, and there’s your answer without even asking her out.”

At that moment, you and JJ appear from thin air, whispering to one another with your arms full of files. Both Spencer and Elle’s watchful gazes follow you right up until JJ’s office door is clicked shut and when you can only slightly be seen through the blinds, Spencer still stares. Elle hits him over the head.

“Pay attention!”

“She’s distracting!”

“She walked by you, not gave you a lap dance! Focus on the plan!”

With a sigh, he looks back to the crumpled paper in his hands. “What’s step two?”

The paper’s yanked out of his hands and Elle furiously scribbles something before handing it back to him.

Step 2: Make her laugh.

“I can’t do that.”

She scoffs, “Reid.”

“People laugh at me, Elle, not with me. The only way she’ll laugh is if I make a complete fool of myself and when I do that, I’m running away and never looking back. You’ll never see me again.”

Sick of the self-deprecation, Elle leans close to Spencer’s face and begins to whisper menacingly.

“Listen, bud,” She threatens, “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You’re young, you’re inexperienced – that’s why approaching Y/N is so terrifying. Not because she’s out of your league, or you’re not good enough, it’s because you’ve never done this before. It’s simply a fear of stepping out of your comfort zone, so stop being so hard on yourself.”

Spencer isn’t sure how to respond, silently wishing something could get him out of this situation. He’s not used to being complimented so ferociously.

God answers his prayers. In the worst way possible.

“Incoming. Make her laugh, Reid.” Elle says, slinking off back to her desk.

Spencer quickly realises you’re approaching and his hands grip the armrests of his chair. He’s not ready for this. He wishes he had time to prepare, maybe google how to woo a woman, but you’re in front of him, all precious smiles with a manila folder in your hand.

“Hi, Doctor Reid.”

Your voices sounds like heaven. He can’t help but think, despite only listening to classical music, he could listen to your voice and only your voice if given the option. It’s like honey, sweet and smooth, and something inside him stirs. Everything about you is lovely.

He clears his throat and nervously wipes at his nose, “Hey. What can I do for you?”

“I was told to bring this to you,” You hand him the folder, “And JJ wanted me to check up on you. She said you’ve been working non-stop and that you probably consumed your bodyweight in coffee with enough sugar to give a small army diabetes. My guess is she wants to check your heart is still beating.”

Spencer laughs at that, which encourages you to giggle along. He freezes when he sees the way your eyes scrunch and smile widens when you laugh – he’d only seen it from a distance, up close it feels intimate and causes his throat to tighten. When your laughter dies, you’re left with an awkward silence as he stares. You shuffle your feet.

Elle is trying to look like she isn’t paying attention, but in her head she’s screaming at Spencer to say something!!!

“Sorry for disturbing you if you’re – um – if you’re busy.” You gesture to the mess on Spencer’s desk, and it’s then that he realises how his silence could’ve looked – to him, you quite literally took his breath away, but to you? He’s a weirdo that is still holding the file mid-air and hasn’t said a thing for far too long.

“No! No,” Spencer brushes his hair back, “Thank you for the file. JJ’s right, I should probably take a break-“

He looks up then. This is his chance, right?

“Are you busy right now?”

You glance around and your eyes find JJ’s office, where she’s signalling for you to come over, “Yeah. Sorry.”

It feels like a punch in the gut – is this rejection? – but there’s a look of sadness that crosses your face. Your mouth falls at the edges and your brows slightly crease – do you wish you weren’t busy?

If Spencer didn’t feel like he’s seconds away from vomiting, he’d ask. Maybe. That sounds a whole lot like flirting and he isn’t sure he can handle that.

You quickly leave, not before you tell him to look after himself (his heart swells), and the second you’re far enough away Elle is marching right over and throwing the paper at him, again, even though she’s standing right in front of him.

“She rejected me.”

“Yea- wait, what?” Elle starts to celebrate, but stops at her words, “No she didn’t. Did we see different things?”

“It sure felt like rejection. Felt weird.”

“That was the perfect chance to ask her to go out after work or maybe on the weekend, but, in your defence, that’s a Derek-level response and we’re not quite there yet. Step three, go.”

Spencer unfolds the paper ball begrudgingly, wondering if any of this is actually worth it.

Step 3: Get JJ to back the fuck up.

Spencer laughs.

“Either you tell JJ you like her assistant and ask for her help, or you tell JJ you like her assistant and that she needs to stop using her so much.” Elle sounds matter-of-fact and confident.

“You want me to tell JJ to stop giving her assistant work?” Spencer asks, face scrunched.

With a shrug, Elle says, “Or you could ask her to help you. She knows the most about Y/N.”

Looking up to JJ’s office, he realises how true Elle’s statement is. JJ knows you better than anyone else here, you’ve quickly become good friends, and JJ wouldn’t lie to Spencer about you if it involved his feelings. He trusts JJ like that.

But then you throw your head back in laughter, a hearty laugh that JJ follows with her own tinkling chuckle, and Spencer is reminded of the sinking feeling he’s had when he’s been rejected before. The emotional slap in the face that causes you to lose all confidence. In his head, he rationalises that attempting to ask you out is pointless. You won’t like him, scrawny profiler who follows his team members like a lost puppy, the guy unable to maintain eye contact for more than four seconds. The logical side, however, the side that runs the show when Spencer is on a case and hides his feelings, tells him he has nothing to lose. Morgan would be proud of him, not ashamed, because Spencer had the guts to ask someone out – Spencer! Elle would understand and tell him something about learning for next time, and the rest of the team wouldn’t really care.

He has nothing to lose and everything to gain. A date with you? A relationship with you? That’d feel like winning the lottery. It feels more likely than winning the lottery, too.

Then Morgan walks past him, more like swaggers, all good looks and charm and everything Spencer doesn’t have.

Spencer decides he’ll save himself the rejection.

+++

JJ gets involved without Spencer realising. He connects the dots on the way back to Virginia, after a case in which you were brought along instead of JJ.

There was a “family emergency”, apparently, after the debrief and right before take-off. Although it wasn’t your first case, it was your first time travelling with the team. When you pad in, sparkling eyes gliding all around the jet, Spencer zeroes in on the gruesome scene photos to avoid being caught staring.

You fit into the role flawlessly. It’s like you were born for the part, effortlessly slipping into the job of communicator between the team and the police force, standing fearlessly in front of the press as they piled on the pressure.

In the conference room where the team set up, he noticed you actively try to stay out of the way whilst simultaneously help in any way you could. You offered coffee every two hours (Spencer counted), cleaned up any and all rubbish the team left around – burger wrappers, useless post-it notes – and mothered the team by reminding them they need breaks, too.

At the hotel, you jokingly poked Spencer in the shoulder and said, “No more coffee for you. You’ll get a sugar rush and won’t be able to sleep.”

“Like a toddler?”

“Exactly like a toddler. Straight to bed for you.”

You grinned at eachother before you separated to go to your rooms. Around three am, Spencer instinctively went to make himself a drink but stopped and thought of you. He decided for that night, just that night, he could get a somewhat decent amount of sleep.

Now, on the flight home, Gideon pauses before his move in their third game of chess to stare at something behind Spencer’s shoulder. When he notices, Spencer turns to see what has his mentor’s attention and stutters when it’s you. You, looking like you’re straight out of a cheesy romance movie when you push your hair back while reading your book.

Gideon switches from staring at you to staring at Spencer.

“She’s a pretty girl, huh?”

Spencer knows where this is going.

“Elle told me you’re sweet on her.”

“Elle shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Elle has been watching you two the entire case.”

“Elle-“

Gideon clears his throat, making Spencer finally make eye contact, “You scared? Worried?”

“About what?” Spencer asks.

“Rejection. If she’ll laugh in your face, say something about never wanting anyone like you.”

Sometimes, Spencer is terrified of Gideon’s ability to read people. He swears he has this inhuman ability to take a peek into people’s minds, read their most intrusive and negative thoughts, and confront them about them. Like he’s doing to Spencer now.

“Something like that, yeah,” Spencer murmurs. He shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s your move.”

“I know.” Gideon nods to you, making Spencer look again, “Don’t you think, in twenty years’ time, you’d want to look back at this moment and be glad you asked? No matter the outcome? Rather than wondering if she’d said yes, asking all kinds of what-ifs…”

“You’re telling me to ask her out?”

Gideon gives Spencer a smile that fills him with confidence. He doesn’t know what it is, but he trusts Gideon with his whole life. If he tells him to go for it, then he should go for it, right?

“I happen to know the Virginia museum is having a deal on tickets if you order them online. Might be something to look into.” He sounds borderline smug now.

With one last look to Gideon, he stands and slowly waddles to the chair opposite you.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, a hand gently resting on the back of the empty seat. You startle slightly at the unexpected voice, but gesture for him to sit with a smile.

“How are you feeling?” You wonder, squinting slightly as the sun shines in your eyes. It makes them sparkle, and Spencer has never understood wanting to drown in someone’s eyes until that moment.

“Just glad the case is over. You did a great job, by the way, filling in for JJ last minute.” Spencer is surprised that his voice doesn’t crack or stop completely.

You beam at the praise, “Thank you. JJ’s got some big boots to fill, even if it’s for one case.”

He shrugs and pulls a face as if you’ve said something ridiculous, “Don’t sell yourself short. When she realises how good you are, she’ll start taking all kinds of holidays.” He jokes.

He can’t help but grin when you laugh.

Elle passes. In the very brief eye contact they make, Elle’s eyes are wide and jumping from you to Spencer, Spencer to you. She’s sending him a message, and he bets Gideon is watching, too.

“Hey,” He starts, leaning on the table between you. You instinctively lean closer, too, which Spencer takes as a positive sign, “How would you.. like…”

He has to take a second to inhale a shaky breath and nervously push his hair behind his ears. You wait, all patient and divine, and his eyes dash around your face.

“To go to the museum with me?”

It comes out rushed and you look confused. “Huh?”

Spencer tries again, after clearing his throat, “How would you like to go to the museum with me? When we get back. As a date.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“…Yes?”

If you weren’t staring directly at him, he’d think you were making fun of him and about to unleash a nice bout of rejection.

You move one hand to lean your face against, moving in a little closer, “I would love that.”

Spencer is speechless. You would love that?

“Oh- wow. Yeah, thanks. Good.”

Who says thanks when someone agrees to go on a date with them?

You giggle.

“We’ll plan when we get back?” You ask.

“Yes. Definitely.” He nods three times.

You can’t help but bite your lip, he’s too cute, and it immediately draws Spencer’s attention.

Behind you both, Gideon turns to Elle. “Success.”

Elle rolls her head against the back of her seat and stares out the window, “Step four: Get Gideon to get the job done.”

[youhideastar]

hi !!! i love all your fics so much but ESPECIALLY TBSA, ive read the entire series countless times. if you’re still taking director’s commentary prompts i would love to see one for literally any part of amends, your characterization of flower and his friendship with sid never fails to break my heart in the best way. <3

Thank you so much! That is so awesome to hear, I am super flattered! I am indeed still taking director’s commentary prompts and I would be delighted to talk about Amends. To do the whole thing would be a little bit long, so I stuck to the second half - the part that takes place at Vero’s house. I’m so glad that you enjoyed Flower’s characterization and I hope you will enjoy seeing a little more of it here!

So Geno reluctantly stays home, and Sid gets in his car and heads for Vero’s house. He walks up the front steps to the porch and knocks, swallowing a little thrum of nervousness that wants to climb up his throat.

When Vero opens the door, she says quietly, “I told him that you were coming, and why.” Then she steps back and motions for Sid to come in.

Immediately, Sid's eyes go to Flower, kneeling just inside the front door. Sid has the feeling he’s been kneeling there since Vero first left the house. His eyes are red.

That “Sid has the feeling he’s been kneeling there since Vero first left the house” is a great example of the value of sometimes telling rather than showing. Could I have described all the little clues that led Sid to that intuition? Sure I could have. Would that have been interesting or meaningful to the reader? Probably not! Plus, I think we all know that often, when you intuit something like that, you can’t articulate exactly what you’re basing it on, and having your characters be little Sherlock Holmeses all the time is unrealistic and artificial-sounding.

Even as hurt and disappointed as he is, there’s no part of Sid that could hold back from dropping to his own knees and wrapping his arms around Flower.

But Flower flinches back and says, with difficulty, “Don’t—”

“Why not?” Sid demands. His arms drop uselessly to his sides. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Vero slipping away down the stairs.

Vero’s so good. Anyway, my first draft had Sid not notice that Vero was leaving, because I didn’t like having his focus distracted from Flower that way. My beta readers pointed out, correctly, that it was confusing as hell for the reader not to know where she was for the rest of this scene! So that changed.

Flower looks at the floor, shame scrawled across his face, and shakes his head. “I don’t deserve—”

“No,” Sid says immediately. He’s not having that. “No. What you have with Vero, maybe that’s about deserving, but this, us, what we have, it’s—”

Above that, he almost says, but he catches himself – that’s not fair to Flower’s relationship with Vero, or to the relationship most of Sid’s friends and family and teammates have with their partners.

This was me! I’m the one who wrote “this, us, what we have, it’s above that.” And then I looked at it and was like, ummmm. Not a great thought, Dea! I’ve written about this once or twice before, but writing TBSA and the rest of the series has been great for showing me my biases and blind spots about particular kinks or types of relationship, because it’s easier to spot that kind of stuff when you’ve laid it flat on the page than when it’s wafting around in your head. Anyway, it was a great opportunity for me to turn my own blinkered way of describing something into a character moment. Waste not, want not!

Instead, he says, “—it’s outside that. I don’t care what you deserve. I just want…”

Sid’s voice cracks, and Flower reaches out to him instinctively—his hands stop just short of touching Sid, and that hurts, too.

“…I just want to know why you left me alone,” Sid finishes, raw.

Flower flinches again. “Sid, please…”

“I thought—I thought we didn’t do that,” Sid says painfully. “I thought… when they come for us, we have to stand up for each other, because we’re the only ones we can count on,” he recites, remembering what Flower said to him that night in the parking garage.

Tears are trickling down Flower’s cheeks, and his arms are tucked up against his chest as if they’re broken. He chokes out, “I don’t—”

There’s a lot of arm description in this scene, and that’s because I am obsessed with Flower’s long, gangly arms and they end up basically being a character in their own right in any scene he appears in. They have a life of their own.

“You don’t know?” Sid asks.

Flower shakes his head, miserable, avoiding Sid’s gaze. “I do, I just…”

“It’s okay, Flower,” Sid says, his heart beating faster, “whatever it is, you can say—”

“No, I—”

He reaches out to Flower, promising, “Really, it’s okay, just—”

“I thought they were right,” Flower gasps, and he breaks down sobbing, hard enough to make his whole body shake.

This whole fic originated from one of my beta readers on TBSA asking why Flower didn’t stick up for Sid. And I was like, Yeah, Dea, why didn’t Flower stick up for Sid? It never crossed my mind that he would, honestly. So then I had to figure out why I was so sure of that. What was it about Flower’s character that led me there? One of the weird and wonderful things about writing is that you can come to understand your characters on this instinctive level where you know for sure how they would react to any given situation, but you can’t always articulate their reasons for that reaction. As if they’re real people. It’s marvelous.

Sid is frozen.

I’ve changed my mind, he thinks, numbly. I didn’t want to know, I don’t—

He would have forgiven Flower a hundred times for cowardice, or for not wanting to be a problem in the room, or for not knowing what to say, or for being too shocked to speak. It would have been easy.

This… Sid doesn’t know. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Flower might have been just as horrified as everybody else at the way Sid yelled at Geno on the bench – that Flower, too, might have thought that Sid had effectively traded in his captaincy by accepting Geno’s hand around his wrist. Maybe that isn’t what Flower’s saying, he tells himself desperately. I don’t even know for sure what he meant.

So he asks.

It’s often boring and repetitive to have a character think, I’m going to do a thing, and then write them doing the thing. Here, instead of writing out Sid’s question—So Sid asks, “Flower, what do you mean?”--we can cut out the middleman and save some words. The reader knows what Sid was going to ask, you don’t have to specify the exact wording.

While Sid was processing, Flower’s sobs have petered out; tears are still flowing from the corners of his eyes, but he can breathe without shaking. When he hears Sid’s question, he hangs his head, and answers softly, “I thought… I thought you’d gone too far.” Sid’s gut lurches. Flower continues, “The way you’d talked to him was… no dom could just—let that go. And the kind of punishment that would be harsh enough to balance out a transgression like that… it would be—it would have to be… brutal.” Flower shivers. “And that was… if he even could forgive you.” He looks up at Sid out of the corner of his eye, head still bowed in shame. “Honestly, Sid, I—I didn’t think he could. I thought for sure he was going to give back your ring.”

This, and the paragraph lower down about punishment, got toned down quite a bit from the initial draft, where the focus was more on Flower assuming Geno would punish Sid very severely versus Flower assuming Geno would leave. My beta readers were concerned that it was sounding like Flower thought Geno would do something outright abusive, and they thought that either made it sound like Flower didn’t know Geno that well (which he should at that point in the story) or like Geno would do something that was over Sid’s limits that way, and either way it was no good. I thought and still think it’s a little more nuanced than that, but this was an instance where, if multiple beta readers independently flag the same issue, they’re probably onto something and you should make edits.

Sid pulls in a sharp breath, as if he’s been struck. “He wouldn’t,” he says fiercely, although he’d feared that very thing when he’d come home last night to find Geno silent in the dark.

Flower closes his eyes. “I know. Fuck, Sid, I don’t know if you want to hear any of this—”

Sid’s frankly not sure, either, but he didn’t come this far and make Flower cry just to say Never mind, let’s just pretend this never happened. So he puts an arm around Flower’s shoulders for support, just like Geno did for him before, and says, “I do want to know. However you can explain it, I—please.”

Flower nods unhappily. He’s quiet for a minute, putting his thoughts in order. Then he begins, “My whole life…” His voice cracks on the word “life” and he flushes, then starts over. “All my life,” he explains softly, “when I see a sub do something that makes his dom angry, very angry…” He shudders. “It’s the same ending, Sid,” he says, almost pleading. “Always. Punishment, or… it’s over. I couldn’t imagine the story ending another way. I couldn’t… m-my head couldn’t make it fit. But that’s no f-fucking excuse, and I know it.”

He ducks his head, hiding his face, but not fast enough to hide the shame twisting up his features. His shoulders are shaking again as he says unsteadily, “I’m so sorry, Sid. You needed me, and I—I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why you were so… sure. Why you wouldn’t take Pascal’s help, why you kept insisting nothing was wrong, I thought—I thought you were crazy, I thought you should be afraid, and I f-fucking let you down. I’m so s-sorry, Sid, I—”

By the time his voice gives out under the weight of how hard he’s crying, Flower is collapsed in Sid’s arms, tears dripping into the notch of Sid’s collarbone. Sid holds on tight and presses his cheek to Flower’s forehead.

Flower’s crying because he let Sid down, for sure. But he’s also crying because he’s lost a piece of himself – as Sid notes earlier, Flower is the one who said subs have to stand up for each other, who promised he’d have Sid’s back. He thought he was that kind of person. And now he knows he’s not, at least not always. That piece of his sense of self has been stripped away, and he has no one to blame but himself.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, and he means it. He understands now – and with that understanding comes forgiveness. How could he not forgive Flower, when the struggle that kept Flower from speaking up is as familiar to Sid as his own name? “It’s okay. I know how hard it is. To imagine something different.” Boy, does he ever. “I know how hard it is to try to change the story in your own head, when it’s only ever gone one way, again and again. It’s the hardest thing. The hardest.” Tears are starting to roll down Sid’s cheeks as well – not from sadness or anger, but just tears of pure catharsis, cleansing him from the inside out. “I understand. I love you, Flower. It’s okay.”

That makes Flower cry harder, but Sid thinks—at least as far as he can tell this sort of thing—that it’s cathartic for him, too. Flower’s not so tightly tensed up as he was before, and his arms lift to wrap around Sid, offering as well as accepting support. There are very few people who Sid would allow to see him like this—broken-down and messy and vulnerable—but Flower’s been on that list for a very long time, and Sid has nothing to hide from him. There’s no need to hold anything back.

Eventually, when they’ve both wound down some, Flower leans back enough to look Sid in the eye. “I was supposed to know better,” he acknowledges, his voice clear even though it’s still rough with tears. “I was the one who told you that a sub’s relationship with his dom is just between them, however works for them.”

Only when Sid has said what happened to him is forgiven can Flower turn to acknowledging his own loss – which is the appropriate order of operations! You hurt someone else, you need to be there for them first.

“Yeah.” Sid has to let go of Flower because his back is killing him in this position, but as he folds down to sit cross-legged, he catches Flower’s hand and keeps hold of it. “And I’m glad you did. I still think about that a lot – it helped, Flower.”

Flower squeezes Sid’s hand and gives him a tired half-smile. “I am happy. But I wish I had thought about it more.” He sighs, and lifts his free hand to rub over his face. “I thought of myself as such a big fucking rebel: I make more money than Vero, I don’t do much around the house, we have this teasing kind of relationship even in front of other people… but I did not see all the things I still take for granted. I’m sorry, Sid.”

Sooooo relatable. Also, if Flower had ever talked about this with Sid before, Sid could have absorbed the lesson that not all subs have to do housework! (although note that he would also have absorbed the implication that it is rebellious for a sub not to do housework, and to tease and joke around with a dom…)

Earlier today, Sid would have said those were the words he most wanted to hear – but it turns out what he really wanted was to understand, to know why. Now that he does, he feels about ten pounds lighter. It makes it easy to be forgiving.

“It’s like being a goalie, right?” Sid says, shrugging. “You’ll never stop ‘em all. But…” He nudges Flower gently with his shoulder. “Your save percentage is still pretty good.”

Flower lets out a slow, shuddering breath and looks down at their joined hands. “You are too good to me.”

“No such thing,” Sid says tenderly.

My own personal favorite line from this piece.

Flower sniffles a little and liberates his hand from Sid’s so he can dab at the drying tear tracks on his cheeks. “You will make me cry again,” he mutters. When he’s done, he sits back a little on his heels and looks back up at Sid. “Will you accept my apology?”

“I already have.”

Flower nods, pleased. “Did Geno accept Vero’s?”

“Yes. But I didn’t.” When Flower gives him a quizzical look, Sid explains, “It wasn’t her apology I wanted.”

Flower shakes his head, his mouth curling into a wry grin. “That is hard for me to imagine, too – a sub rejecting a dom’s apology to another dom. But when it is you… that is an easier picture to think of.”

“Yeah,” Sid says, amused, “when you need to imagine a sub doing something crazy, just picture me doing it, and that’ll be easier for sure.”

The fact that Sid can say this with amusement, not bitterness, shows how much he’s grown over the course of TBSA. Hell, the fact that he can say it at all shows a ton of growth! It would have been too painful for him to say out loud in the early years.

Flower catches Sid’s gaze and says firmly, “Yes. Because you are brave.”

Sid blushes, but he doesn’t look away. He’s getting better, he thinks, about accepting praise from the people who matter to him. “Thank you,” he says instead, and Flower smiles.

From down the stairs, Vero’s voice calls, “Alo! How is everyone?”

Sid startles – now that he hears her voice, he remembers her quietly heading down the stairs earlier, but he’d forgotten all about her while he was focused on Flower. She must have stepped away to give him and Flower some privacy… which, now that he thinks of it, is a pretty significant gesture from a dom who views everything Flower does as her business.

Very significant, and note that she doesn’t say anything about it – doesn’t expect or invite credit or praise. Just respects Sid’s boundaries, unasked, because she has listened to him and taken him seriously. Vero’s the best.

It must be driving her crazy, not knowing what’s going on, he thinks, and he quickly yells back, “We’re good! Everything’s good!”

“Excellent!” she replies. “Are you done with your private sub conversation?”

“Private sub conversation” – in my mind, she’s saying this out loud partly just to marvel at the novelty of it. Subs doing private things that their doms aren’t allowed to know about! What will they think of next? Jetpacks? Teleportation? XD She’s kind of tickled by the idea, and by her own aiding and abetting of it.

Sid glances at Flower, who nods. He calls down, “Yeah, we’re done.”

“Oh, good! Because I am getting hungry for dinner.”

As soon as she mentions it, Sid’s stomach grumbles. “Dinner sounds really good,” he agrees. He climbs to his feet, but when he offers Flower a hand up, Flower refuses.

“Vero has not said that I am done,” he says softly, looking down.

Before Sid can react to that, Vero comes up the stairs – she smiles when she sees them. “You both look well. A little damp, but well.” She comes to stand in front of Flower and hooks a finger in the front of his collar, and the smile fades from her face. She tells him, “Geno accepted my apology on your behalf.”

Flower swallows and tries to duck his head – her grip on his collar, light but firm, stops him. He whispers, “I’m so sorry you had to—”

“He accepted it,” she repeats, cutting Flower off, but without heat or anger. “But Sid had a very good point, which was that my apology was not enough. So now I ask you: did you apologize to our dear friend Sid?”

Our friend.

“I did, maîtresse,” he answers, eyes still lowered.

Sid nods in corroboration, but Vero doesn’t look at him – she only has eyes for Flower.

This harkens back to the conversation in TBSA where Flower is talking about reporting in to Vero and asking her permission if he’s going to spend the night elsewhere. She doesn’t check up on him to make sure he’s really where he said he was going to be – it’s an honor system. She trusts him to tell her the whole truth. Trust goes both ways! And here, it’s the same – she trusts Flower to tell her the truth, to the point of actively ignoring whatever Sid might say about it. If Flower says he apologized, that’s good enough for her. Sid’s input is irrelevant. It’s little nuances like these that demonstrate that there’s a balance of power even in this relationship that seems at first to have the power overwhelmingly on just one side.

She asks, “And did he accept your apology?”

“He did, maîtresse.”

“Then you are forgiven,” she murmurs, bending to press a kiss to his forehead. “Come, my love. No more punishment. Come and stand, and hold me.”

Sid steps close to help support Flower as he gets to his feet – if Flower’s been kneeling for as long as Sid thinks, it’s no surprise that he wobbles a little as he unfolds. As soon as Flower’s steady on his feet, he and Vero embrace each other tightly, and even when they break apart, Vero keeps an arm around Flower’s waist, reassuring.

“We will get takeout, of course,” she announces. “Sid, would you like to invite Geno?”

“I would, yeah,” Sid says. He knows Geno must be worrying about him… and just for Sid’s own sake, selfishly, he’d like to have Geno close. Geno wasn’t wrong when he said that the last twenty-four hours have been a lot for Sid, and Sid could really use Geno’s comforting, supportive presence right now.

When Geno answers the phone with a hurried, “It’s okay, Sid? You need me?” Sid smiles and knows he was right to call.

Ahhhhhhh Geno’s so cute.

“It’s all good,” he says. “We’re going to get takeout – want to join us?”

Vero prompts, “Ask if he likes Vietnamese!”

“Yes, want join,” Geno enthuses, “and yes, like Vietnamese! We can get from place with little rolls of grilled beef? And is soup you like.”

Oh my god, I am obsessed with these little rolls of grilled beef that they had at the Vietnamese restaurant near my former office in Manhattan, and I have never seen them on the menu of any other Vietnamese restaurant anywhere else that I’ve lived, and I am perishing of desire to eat them again. I don’t even eat beef anymore! But I would make an exception for the little rolls. You can never assume that any of my characters are speaking for me, ever – except when they’re talking about food. Then they’re almost always speaking for me.

“The soup I like, hmm?” Sid asks, amused: he has never successfully finished a bowl of pho in front of Geno without Geno asking, faux-casually, “Oh, you look full – you done? You want I have the rest?”

Absolutely did not intend that quasi-pun. Also, this is a little out of character for Geno, who desperately wants to feed Sid and wouldn’t even think of trying to take food away from him, but I thought it was cute and funny so I kept it.

Geno ignores this with a sniff. “Ask Vero and Flower what they want, okay, Sid? And I’m pick up and come over.”

“Sounds good.”

When Geno shows up about twenty minutes later, loaded down with bags, he nods politely at Vero, then turns to beam at Sid.

“Hello, best,” he says softly, and Sid flushes. Geno hardly ever praises him or calls him pet names in front of other people, and it’s a little embarrassing, but with everything that’s happened today, it’s just what he needed.

Commenters really liked Geno using “best” as a pet name, which was gratifying, since I wasn’t sure it would come through, but I think it’s cute! I’ve been on the lookout for places to use it again, but idk, maybe that would ruin the specialness of it here.

“I’m hug you,” Geno continues, looking sheepish, “but my arms full of soup and I’m spill if I hug.”

“I can still hug you,” Sid says, and he suits actions to words, wrapping his arms around Geno’s body and tucking his face under Geno’s jaw. The closeness feels like a warm hand on the back on his neck – soothing and grounding, with a shiver of pleasure.

“Most smart,” Geno mumbles approvingly into Sid’s hair. “And now eat?”

I live for partners praising each other’s intellects. Like, yeah, we get it, your boyfriend is good-looking. But is he smart?

“Yeah,” Sid agrees, stepping back regretfully – he wouldn’t mind holding on a little longer, but it’s a little weird cuddling when Vero and Flower are watching them, and anyway, the food is getting cold.

“They are so cute,” Vero stage-whispers to Flower, and Sid flushes again and escapes up the stairs with one of the bags of take-out.

The kitchen is a flurry of activity as they figure out which dishes belong to which person, and who needs what silverware, with Vero directing traffic.

“I may not be any good at cooking,” she says philosophically, “but I am excellent at serving takeout!”

A rare exception to the rule that characters speaking about food are speaking for me. I love to cook and am only mediocre at serving takeout.

When they’re all done dividing up the food, they take the whole feast into the dining room and arrange themselves at one end of the hilariously large formal dinner table. Sid and Geno each eat off of their own plates and bowls—barring a few incidents of petty larceny by Geno, who wasn’t smart enough to order his own summer rolls—and for once, Sid doesn’t feel a single instant of the self-consciousness that dogs him whenever he and Geno eat together in public. And Vero feeds herself and Flower off of one heaping, shared plate—never letting her chili noodles touch his pickled carrots, because she knows he has no tolerance for spice—and for once, Sid can appreciate the beauty and intimacy of that tradition without feeling it as a judgment on himself and his submission. They can just sit around the table and be who they are: two couples with three plates. And that’s enough.

Again, would Geno steal food from Sid? Probably not. But I fucking love that setoff clause, from the use of “petty larceny” to the drive-by shade from Sid about Geno’s insufficient order planning, so I kept it. If I wanted to justify it, I could say that this is Geno deliberately trying to put Sid at ease that Geno’s not too horribly tormented about not getting to feed him. But I just made that up. The real reason this is in here is for the jokes.

[boxdyeblonde]

Safety

A/N: this is the first fic ive posted on tumblr.... so we’ll see how this goes, lol. i wrote this to cope with some stuff and was honestly thinking about how i need soft but protective Din in my life

Warnings: TW for mentions and vague descriptions of sexual assault, plus consensual nsfw moments

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (i think i kept this gender neutral until the last little bit)

Word count: Just under 2.9k

---

You sat alone in the back of the Razor Crest, blanket draped around your shoulders. It was one of those days again. You couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened, how even though you said no, and pushed away, no one ever listened. All of your past lovers had been greedy. Greedy for you, or at least the physical side of you. It made you sick to even think about.

The ship touched down and you heard some shuffling from the cockpit, along with the child’s babbling and murmur from Din in response. Din walked back towards you, the child in his arms. You held yourself, still feeling uncomfortable and somewhat nauseous from your thoughts.

“Hey,” Din says, looking at you, “Are you alright? You’re not looking too well.” You could hear the concern in his voice, and could picture it written across his face, the face that you had seen only once before. You look up at him, slowly pulling yourself out of your own head.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you mutter out, “Yeah, I’m not feeling the best today.” You looked at him nervously as he tilted his head.

“Okay, well, I’m going to go into town with the kid. If you’re up for it you can come with,” he said, the concern in his voice mixed with a hopeful tone. While you didn’t necessarily want to be alone, you weren’t sure that you had the energy or focus to go out with them. You didn’t want to be a burden if a fight broke out, you typically could hold your own, even in a sparring match against Din, but you were too distracted today to be of any help.

You shook your head, “I think I’ll stay here,” you say, offering Din a weak smile, “I’m going to go lie down for a while.” You stand up, walking towards the cot in the back of the ship.  As you near him he gently grabs your arm. You glance up at him.

“We won’t be gone long,” he says looking down at you. “If you need anything you know how to reach me.” You nod, placing your hand on the breastplate of his beskar.

“Thank you,” you say, “Be safe out there.” You reach over to the child’s head and give it a soft pat. Din nods, and opens the ship’s hatch.  You walk over to the cot and sit down, watching him leave.

After Din has left you lay down staring at the wall, your thoughts slowly consuming you again. Most days you were fine, repressing the feelings for long periods of time, but when they resurfaced, they came all at once, and more intense than before. You felt hopeless at times, at others you dirty or unclean, and sometimes you felt as if you wouldn’t be able to have a successful relationship with anyone ever again. Even in the few times a relationship between you and someone else had started to bud, the minute anything more than just “romantic” happened, you immediately went on edge, and would end things immediately after.

You felt extremely relaxed around Din, though. The two of you had expressed the way you felt to each other a few months ago, and he knew all too well about your past. Din had helped you out of a night out that had gone bad. He wasn’t typically one to get involved in other’s problems but he couldn’t just walk away when he heard your cries for help from around the corner of the cantina.

—

He wouldn’t let go of you, no matter how much you struggled. You managed to get a solid right hook in but he was a lot stronger than you, and you hadn’t had a lot of fighting experience yet.

But then Din appeared, shrouded in beskar and accompanied by a small green child, coming to your rescue with a swift sucker punch. He and your attacker continued to throw punches until the Mandalorian had landed a hard uppercut, knocking the man out cold.

By now you were seated on the ground, having slowly slid down the outside wall of the cantina still in shock from everything that had happened. The Mandalorian walked over to you, offering his hand.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice was smooth despite the raspy edge that his helmet’s modulator created. You were taken aback, but reached for his hand anyway. As he pulled you up to your feet you could see the child’s face peak over the pram he was in. Nodding slowly you muttered out a confirmation.

“Do you have somewhere safe to go?” The Mandalorian asked, looking down at you. He had a gut feeling that you were someone he could trust, as did you. You shook your head no and looked down. “I have a space on my ship where you can stay for the night.”

You nodded, “Okay… Thank you,” you murmured out.

He led you back to his ship, where he set you up with his cot and a blanket or two.

“There’s only one bed here?” You said, your anxiety beginning to spike.

“I know,” he said, “I’ll sleep in the cockpit, don't worry. The bed is yours for the night. Get some rest.” You sighed in relief shoulders beginning to relax.

As the Mandalorian put the kid down for bed, you stayed on alert until he was on his way to the cockpit.

“Hey…,” You say quietly, feeling nervous as he turns his head to look at you. “Um.. Thanks…”

“Din,” he says, “you can call me Din.”

“Thank you, Din.” He nods back at you before heading up into the cockpit.

—

You were glad that the one night you were supposed to stay turned into a week, which soon turned into a month, and so on. You truly felt the safest with him, even when you were shooting up stormtroopers, tracking down bounties, and settling fights outside of cantinas.

A few tears slipped down your face as you thought about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t been there that night. The thought causing your stomach to drop.

The door to the ship slowly hissed, lowering itself, your anxiety spiked until you heard the little laugh of the child. The time had flown by, you were too lost in your memories to notice.

After Din had entered the ship, he set the child down in its pram, and walked back over to you. Leaning one arm against the door frame he spoke up, “How are you feeling?”

You wiped you face and sat up, sniffing slightly. “Better,” you said, voice cracking.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, a pang of sadness and concern running though him. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, taking your hand.

You shook your head, “It’s just the usual… can’t shake the memories.” He nodded.

“Come here,” he says, extending out his arms. As you slowly meld against his body you can’t hold back the tears.

"I just want to be okay again,” you say in between sobs. His heart aches, hearing you sob into the crook of his neck, feeling your body shake in his arms. He desperately wanted to make all of your pain and suffering go away, and he was willing to do anything it would take.

“Hey,” he cooed, “It’s okay, cyar’ika. I’m here, and I will always protect you.” He shifted you onto his lap as he cradled you against his body. You sat there in his arms, crying until you ran out of tears.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.

—

Two weeks had passed, and you were finally feeling better. You were onto another planet with Din and the child, a less busy planet, where the three of you could lay low for a week or two.

Din peeled off his beskar, leaving only his underclothes and his helmet. He stretched his arms over his head, unaware of your staring as his shirt slowly rose above his waistband. You desperately wanted to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. You came out of your trance when he winced slightly, lowering his arms, and rubbing his neck and shoulder letting out a sigh.

“Come over here,” you say, seated in the middle of the bed, patting the space in front of you. He walks over and sits down on the edge of the bed, looking back at you. “Turn around,” you coo, shifting behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. If it were anyone else he wouldn’t have complied but he trusted you. As you knelt behind him you began to rub small circles into his shoulders, kneading at the tight muscles. He let out a groan that caught you by surprise.

“You’re so tense, love… When is the last time you stretched?”

He chuckled slightly, “Not for a while.”

“Din…,” you sigh, shaking your head. This man needed to take better care of himself, you thought to yourself.

As you worked your way around his shoulders and neck, diffusing each knot you found, he let out small moans of relief.

It started to get to you. You started to wonder if those were the very same sounds he would make if you kissed him, if you ran your hands over the rest of his body.

You kissed his shoulder, signaling that you were done massaging, as you snaked around to the front of his body, straddling him and hanging your arms around his neck. He looked up at you, shocked. He figured that it would take you a long time to get truly comfortable with him and with your past before you would do something this intimate with him.

“Cyar’ika…” He says, trailing off, his hands gravitating to your hips. You took a deep breath, knowing those were his hands on your body and no one else’s, knowing that he only ever held you with kindness and love.

Your hands moved up to his helmet. “Can I?” You asked. You never asked, not once over the year you had spent with him, never forcing or begging him to show his face.

—

The first time you had seen his face, you had been shot.  During a long fight with some Imperial troops, one of the sharpshooters had grazed your side with a blaster shot. You managed to keep shooting from your cover, but you couldn’t go anywhere.

After Din had finally taken care of the rest, he came running back to you. The fear coursing though his body as he saw you holding your side in pain.

Kneeling down next to you he pulled your hand away from the wound. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad.

“This is gonna be uncomfortable,” he said. Not wanting to put you in any more pain, but needing to get you back to the ship, he slipped his arms under you and picked you up. You groaned in discomfort.

When he got you back to the ship he treated your wound. Taking off his gloves he kneeled at your side and applied bacta, bandaging you up after.

“Don’t do that again,” he said, still kneeling next to you.

“What? Take out half the platoon for you?” You asked, somewhat defensive, while wincing in pain.

“No, get hurt…” he says.

“This lifestyle can’t support that promise,” you say, chuckling slightly and holding your side.

“I just— I can’t—” he starts, looking down and searching for the words to say. He reaches up to his helmet, slowly pulling it off. Your eyes widen with shock, you had never seen Din without his helmet.

“Din…” You say, involuntarily reaching a hand up to caress his face.

“I love you,” he states abruptly. His eyes were somewhat glossy from all of his pent up emotions. Fear, anger, guilt, concern, and love. “I just want you to be okay.” He looks down, afraid of your reply while simultaneously hiding his emotions so clearly splayed across his face.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back. Guiding his face back up to yours, and looking into his dark brown eyes.

—

Din nodded to you, at a loss for words. How could he ever say no to you? Especially while you sat on top of him, gazing down upon him. You were like an ethereal being looking down upon him from the heavens, and he was blessed by your presence alone.

You slowly lift his helmet off, and set it down on the bed next to you. One hand reaching up to caress his cheek, the other moving to tangle into his hair.

“I love you,” you say, stroking your fingers though his soft curls. Feeling your body pressed up against his, you yearned for more. The desire you felt inside hadn’t been around for years, but somehow it was roaring back to life in this moment. You pushed your hips down against him slightly, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips.

He sighed against your lips, running one of his hands up your back, pulling your bodies closer. One of your hands slowly slid down to land firmly on his chest, while the other cupped the back of his neck. You could feel the firm muscles of his chest, and the warmth of his body radiating through his shirt. You began a trail of smaller kisses down his neck, wanting to explore more of his body, taking more of his shirt into your fists.

His hands moved the the hem of your shirt, “Is this okay?” He asked, wanting to make sure that you were comfortable with the pace of things. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he were to make you feel unsafe like those before him.

After you nod in response he pulls your shirt over your head, removing his immediately after. You sat back for a moment, taking in his body. You had never seen this much of him, the most you ever saw of him was when you were bandaging up his body after some quarrel.

Finger skimming along his chest, you notice every scar, leaving soft kisses amongst a few. Din reaches over, setting his helmet on the ground before scooping you up and laying you down on the bed.

He hovers over you. Nervousness, love, concern, and desire were all visible in his face. You reached up and stroked his cheek.

“The moment you feel uncomfortable please tell me,” he said, love and concern washing over his features. You nodded.

“I will.”

He slowly planted a kiss on your lips, stroking your hair out of your face simultaneously.  Your hands explored the muscles of his torso. He was fit. And while you weren't exactly surprised, it was different experiencing his body rather than simply imagining how it looked under all that beskar. Your hands moved to his back, pulling him closer to your own body, as he slides one of his hands down your side. He looks into your eyes as he slowly pulls back, grabbing the waistband of your pants. He shimmies them off of you, reading your face for any signals that he might be overstepping.

Placing a few kisses along your chest and stomach, he works his way down to the mess that you’ve become in your desire for him. He plants a few more kisses along your hips and inner thigh.

“Are you sure about this?” He inquires, double checking that this is what you wanted.

“Please Din,” you ask, running a hand through his hair.

And before you know it, his tongue is moving in magical ways that you hadn’t felt before. You couldn’t help from running his soft curls between your fingers and intermittently tugging when he would pass over your clit.

You moaned out his name and desire surged through his body, pulling you down closer to him, his shoulders resting underneath your thighs. He was relentless. And all you could do is tremble beneath him, letting out breathy moans that he so desperately wanted to hear.

He pulled back, replacing where his mouth had been with his hand, slowly working over your clit. He shifted back up to kiss you and you could taste yourself on his lips.

“I’m close,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and looking into his eyes. You couldn’t help it but tears were welling up in your eyes, you were so overwhelmed. He brushed his thumb over your cheek.

“Let go, cyar’ika,” he says, voice dripping like honey. Planting a kiss below your ear he nips at the skin, and you can’t hold back any longer. The expertise of his hands had sent hot shock waves through your body and your entire body tensed until the waves slowly resided.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. A few tears spilled down your face, concern racking his body. “What’s wrong?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nothing is wrong, my love,” you say, taking his face in your hands. “I am just so grateful for you.” His body immediately relaxed.

He pulled you up against his chest, the warmth of his body comforting you as you pressed a kiss beneath his collar bone. You really did feel the safest with him. And that’s all he wanted; For you to be safe and loved.

[keigos-dove]

Fallen Angel

✎ A/N: Being the crackhead I am I wrote this to celebrate 666 followers. This is the longest fic I’ve written yet and I’m honestly so proud it came out as wonderful as it did. I hope you enjoy it. 

✎ Paring: Keigo Takami (Hawks) x G/N!Reader

✎ ⚠️Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, hospital experiences, swearing

✎ Word Count: 2,555

✎ Synopsis: A fight between Hawks, Dabi, and you turn for the worst. Hawks and you being hospitalized, you both discover your future will be different from then on. But maybe it’s a good different.

✎ |Tags:| @secondhand-trash​ @sparkncharge​ @redbeanteax​ @adoringwords​ @lady-bakuhoe​ @keigos-wings​

Heroes were given dangerous missions all the time. Most of them came out successful. There were also the few who failed those missions, and died, or got seriously injured. This mission given to Keigo and yourself was one of those missions.

You were both in for the final ride.

Gaining information about the LoV wasn’t the most ideal mission, but it’s not like the two of you could reject it. You both were forced to be heroes. You had no say.

Today you both had a meeting with Dabi, Shigaraki’s right-hand man. Dabi wanted to meet both of you one more time before you both meet the rest of the League, and Sigaraki himself.

You both were currently flying to the location sent by Dabi, your only instructions were to meet him there and a given time.

Silence was the only thing between Hawks and yourself at this moment. This meeting could go many different ways.

“Nervous, Little Dove?” asked Hawks, your business partner, and boyfriend.

“A little bit. I’m just hoping this goes smoothly.” you chuckle nervously.

“Hey, this is just a meeting. We’ll be fine. The important stuff doesn’t happen until Dabi says so.” he said.

“You sure?” you asked.

“Positive, Little Dove. Now,” he started. “That’s the location right there.”

Keigo started flying towards the coordinates. It was a building. An abandoned factory in a quiet part of the city. It was dark out, and the streets around were empty.

Finally, the two of you were safely on the ground. Keigo placed you down on the ground and let you stretch.

“This place gives me bad vibes. What do you think, Pretty Bird?” you ask

“It’s quiet, abandoned, concealed. Perfect for a villain to hide.” Hawks analyzed.

“Doesn’t answer my question, Bird Brain.” you chuckle quietly.

“Yes,” he giggles. “It does seem suspicious.”

Keigo walks over to the door of the factory and opens it, keeping it open long enough for you to walk inside as well.

“Ready for this?” he asks

“As I’ll ever be,” you answer. “When should Dabi be here again?”

“Any time now, Little Dove. Just gotta be-”

“Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in. A bird and a baby.” Dabi’s voice echoed throughout the factory.

You bit your tongue. You did not need to start a fight when you were this close.

“Well hello to you too, Dabi.” Hawks answered. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Talking,” Dabi replied vaguely.

“About?” you ask.

“Well, if you want me to be honest, I want to talk about you for a bit,” Dabi says, pointing at you. Dabi comes out of the shadows and starts circling you and Hawks. Just like a predator with its prey.

You looked over to Hawks confused. He quirked an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Me?” you ask. “Why me?”

“Why are you even here? I mean I know you’re with him,” Dabi says pointing to Hawks. “But what purpose do you serve? He’s done all the work here, you’re just a tag along.”

You think, trying to choose your words carefully. “I’m not a tag along. I want to be here just as much as he does.”

“Are they a tag along? A burden? Do they really help you?” Dabi asks Hawks, completely ignoring you now.

You roll your eyes. Is this all he wanted today? To question your loyalty?

No matter what you knew you had to stand your ground. There’s no way you’re leaving Keigo to deal with him, with Dabi, alone. You just couldn’t do it.

Your eyes stayed on Keigo. No matter what he was most important. You couldn’t let Dabi get a hold of him no matter what.

“They’ve put just as much work in as me.” Hawks answers honestly. “Why does any of this matter?” he asks, his usual smirk disappearing.

Oh shit. He was serious.

“I have a reason to believe that they’re a traitor. A liar.” Dabi says continuing his cycle around the two of you.

At this current moment, he was behind you. And you still kept your eyes on Keigo. You kept your mouth shut, deciding to let Keigo handle this for now. After all, he was much better with people than you were.

“They’re no traitor. They’ve helped with everything we’ve done so far. You saw the blood on their hands. The blood of a hero.” Hawks said.

“There’s acting, lying, deceiving. Ever heard of those?” Dabi asks. He was closer to you now. Like he was right behind you. You heard his voice ringing in your ears, felt the heat of his quirk radiate off his body.

And still, you looked at Keigo.

Keigo couldn’t even speak. Dabi was too fast for him. Too fast for Hawks, the fastest man alive.

Dabi, quick in reflex, grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back, keeping you in place.

Snap.

A silent scream left your lips. Pain shot through your arm and up your spine.

“Dabi, let-”

“What Little Bird? I’m not shitting around with this. I don’t care how much you trust them, they’re lying.”

Your shoulder throbbed, tears made their way down your cheeks.

You were in pain and right now Keigo couldn’t help you. His first instinct is always to hold you in his arms and wrap you in his wings if you were ever injured during a fight.

You looked at Keigo, tears clouding your vision. He was scared, he knew Dabi had the upper hand at this moment. And for once, Keigo looked clueless as to what to do.

“Admit it,” Dabi breathed in your ear. “You’re a liar, a traitor.”

“You’re a stupid bastard if you think I’m the liar here.” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Dabi let them go,” Hawks said, his voice shaking. “They’ve done nothing wrong.”

Keigo shot you a glance.

Right now Dabi had his focus on Hawks. Dabi’s grip wasn’t as strong now. Seeing as you’re injured there’s no way you could fight, right?

Wrong.

Keigo shot you another glance.

Now.

You took your uninjured arm and swung backward, hitting Dabi square in the jaw, so hard you’re sure you heard a snap.

You fell to the ground, quickly you started to crawl to Keigo for safety.

But Dabi was one step quicker yet again.

Dabi fisted your hair in his hands and pulled you up off the ground.

“Hawks!” you shouted.

“I got ya, H/N,” Keigo shouted back, running for you.

“No,” Dabi says, his voice dark. “You don’t have them, Pretty Bird.”

Dabi then pulled you back down to the ground. Making sure your head collided with the ground.

Black filled your vision. Ringing filled your ears. Blood rushed to your head.

You heard a scream, but you knew it wasn’t your own.

Then it was silent.

Then you were out cold.

Walking up, pain and exhaustion hits your body like a truck. You look around the bright white-colored room.

You’re in a hospital room. So that means the fight ended. How long, obviously you didn’t know.

It was daytime. The long curtain blades covered the windows but light seeped through the cracks, casting shadows on the blue and white checkered tiled floor. There was an IV in your left arm, connected to a machine by the side of your bed. Other machines and tools sat beside your bed as well. The only thing you could hear was the beeping of the heart monitor.

A creaking sound filled the room, then a click. Stepping out from around the corner was what you assumed to be a nurse.

“Why hello, dear,” she said gently. “It’s good to see that you’re finally awake. How do you feel.”

“Lightheaded. I’m in a lot of pain too.”

“The lightheadedness is most likely the concussion you have. The pain, which I assume is in your arm and chest, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“You broke your right arm in three different places. You also broke a few ribs. That’s probably the pain and pressure that you feel.”

“Oh, how fun,” you say sarcastically.

The nurse stayed silent for a bit. Checking the machines and writing things down on the clipboard she had in hand.

“I’ll most likely end up upping your medicine dosage, I’ll ask the doctor to make sure,” the nurse said quietly to herself.

Your mind started to wander once the nurse started doing her own thing.

Dabi really did a number on you. You don’t remember any injuries to your head or your ribs, so Dabi must have gotten a hold of you again after you passed out. Your mind eventually drifts to Keigo.

Keigo.

What happened to Keigo after you passed out?

“Keigo!” you shouted, quickly sitting up, trying to look for him. You winced suddenly, it got harder to breathe and more pain shot throughout your chest.

The nurse pushed you back against the bed. “Don’t just up so quickly like that, you’ll end up hurting yourself more. Who are you even talking about?”

“Hawks,” you breathe heavily. “He was with me at the accident. Where is he? Is he okay? Please tell me he’s alive!”

“Calm down, sweetheart. Hawks is fine. He’s resting in the room right across the hall. A few injuries as well as some burns, but he’ll be okay.”

A weight was lifted off of your chest and shoulders, but pain and pressure still stayed. You were relieved to know that he was still alive, but you felt as though the nurse was hiding something.

“Is he awake?” you ask. “I want to see him.”

“He’s asleep, sweetheart. You rest for a bit. I’ll let you see him later, okay?”

“Promise?” you ask. You probably sounded like a child, but you didn’t really care. You were way too worried about Keigo to care.

“I promise. Now relax, maybe take a nap.” the nurse suggested. And with that, she left the room. Probably to talk to the doctor like she mentioned.

You don’t really know when, but eventually, you fell back asleep.

When you woke up again, the sun was still out. But the light shining on the checkered tiles was dimmer, so you assumed it was early or late afternoon. Luckily you didn’t feel any pain this time around, so hopefully, the meds finally decided to kick in. The only thing you did feel was a slight throbbing in your head.

The nurse from before was at your bedside checking the monitors again. Sitting behind her was a wheelchair.

“Welcome back, sweetheart. How do you feel?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“There’s no pain which is good, I guess. I only feel a throb in my head.”

“That’s good. It’s progress.”

“Can I see Hawks now? You promised,” you said in a whiny voice.

“Seeing as you’re feeling a bit better, I’ll allow it. I did promise after all.”

The nurse pulled the wheelchair closer to the bed. She helped you sit up, and threw the blankets off your body. A heavyweight pushed down on your chest. Your lungs started burning, it got harder to breathe.

“Deep, slow breaths. It will feel a bit better soon. Just got to get used to sitting up.”

You started taking deeper breaths. The burning started going away and the weight started pulling away. But it didn’t go away entirely. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and held onto the nurse’s shoulder with your good arm and pushed off the bed. The nurse spun you around and sat you down gently onto the seat. She took your IV bag off the rack and placed it on the hook on the back of the chair.

“How do you feel? Good?”

“Yeah, a little lightheaded but I’m okay.”

“That’s normal. You just have to get used to sitting up,” the nurse said. “Think you can wheel yourself over?”

“With one arm? I think so.”

“Your arm is actually all better. Recovery Girl came by while you were sleeping and healed it. She couldn’t fix your ribs though.”

“If my arm is okay I should be able to go about myself, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart. I’ll leave the doors open for you.”

She started to walk out of the room and opened both doors, just like she said. And set off to another room. To help another patient most likely.

You wheeled your way across the hall to Keigo’s room. Making your way in, you see the curtains closed, allowing little light to come in. Keigo was sitting up in bed slightly. He was asleep, or so you thought, his eyes were closed but you couldn’t really tell from the doorway. He had bandages wrapped around several parts of his body. Some were clean, others stained with blood. Many machines, tubes, and wires were connected to Keigo’s body. And as clear as day you saw it. You were right. The nurse did leave something out.

Keigo’s wings…

They were gone…

Not just the feathers, but the entire wing itself.

Both of them. They were gone completely.

Screams filled your mind. Blood curtailing scream. Screams of pure pain. You remember waking up before passing out again. You heard the screams, you wanted desperately to help Keigo, but your exhaustion took over you again and you passed out. You couldn’t help him.

You could have saved him. But you were too late.

“Keigo,” a choked sob escaped your lips.

Keigo’s eyes shot open at the sound of your voice. “Little Dove?” his raspy voice whispered.

You wheeled over next to his bed. Tears flowing quickly down your rosy cheeks. “Keigo, your wings. They’re gone!” you sobbed. 

He stayed silent. He couldn’t speak. Tears started falling down his cheeks as well.

“Keigo that bastard Dabi clipped your wings?” you sobbed, shouting. 

“He didn’t clip them, Little Dove,” he whispered.

“No-” another choked sob escaped you.

“He burned them and tore them clean off.” he cried softly.

“Pretty Bird.” you cried reaching for his hand. He took your hand and squeezed it tight.

“Little Dove, look at me,” he said softly.

“Yes, Keigo?”

“We’re free,” he said.

“What do you mean we’re free? You’re quirkless now!”

“Exactly. I’m quirkless.”

“That means…” you whispered, finally realizing what he’s hinting at.

“I’m not going to be a hero anymore. You can retire, and we’re both free, Little Dove.” he cried, happily this time. 

“We're free. You're free!” you cry happily. 

“Took this long to find it, but it's finally here,” he said as tears ran down his face.

“I'm going to miss hugs from your wings, Pretty Bird,” you say softly.

“You might not get hugs or free flights anymore. But I can tell we're going to be so much happier,” he said back, squeezing your hand again, and ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“What are we going to do now?” you ask.

“We have more free time than we know what to do with. We'll figure it out,” he said, his usual smile splitting his face.

“We'll be okay,” you said happily.

“Damn right we will.” 

And he was right. You both are okay. Free from hero expectations, society, everything. It's finally just the two of you. Just like Keigo wanted it to be. He may have lost his wings, but he still had himself and you. That's all he needed.

[littlebitoffanfic]

Useful

Fandom: TMNT Characters: Donnie, Casey Relationship: Donnie/reader Request: Do you still write for tmnt? If yes, could you do a little fic where Donnie always helps the reader study but somethings just not working and the reader ends up getting casey to help her. But Donnie sees and gets all angst because he loves the reader and the only thing he thought he had was his brains. “I just don’t get it.” You grumbled, balling up a piece of paper and hurtling it across the lab in frustration before throwing yourself back into your chair. “that wont help.” Donnie sighed as he stood from his chair to go retrieve the ball and returning to you. “Nothing will help. Ive got less than a week to study and I don’t even know what I don’t know anymore.” You huff, burying your head in your hands as you shake your head. You were both tired, and neither of you were probably the best company right now. You were frustrated with the material and Donnie was getting frustrated with you. He knew you were stuck, and he understood why you were annoyed, but he was tired as well. “I AM trying to help you.” Donnie snapped a little, uncrumpling the ball and flattering it out on the table. “Maybe if you tried-“ “I am trying!” You snap, sitting up in your chair as you glare at Donnie. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t understand and you were insulted that he thought it was. “Maybe if you tried harder.” Donnie snapped right back at you. For a moment, you just stared at him. Your lips were pressing into a harsh line and your eyes glared at his own. For the first time in the entire time you had known him, you felt a small spark of hate in your chest for his arrogance in that moment. “well, we cant all be as fucking smart as you.” You knew you had to leave right now. So you stood up and slammed the book close. Grabbing it and a few papers and the book, you made your way towards the door of the lab. A part of you expected him to run after you, to apologies and try and bring you back. But he didn’t, instead staying seated as he watches you leave. The problem was that when it came to teaching you something, Donnie was normally rather good. He spoke through things and explained them to you in ways you understood. But if you got stuck on a particular bit, that was when it got agitating. Donnie couldn’t get what you didn’t understand. He just ended up repeating himself and that didn’t help. You would get frustrated and that would lead to his own frustration. But moments like that were few and far between. most of the times, you looked forward to the study sessions where he would help you. Sitting beside him, you felt like it was just a small moment where you could be close to him without having to wonder about your feelings for him. But now, you were annoyed, frustrated and stressed. you walked into the living area of the turtles home, collapsing on the sofa as you tossed the math book to the side. When you left school, you thought you were done with the damn thing, but your course required you to sit a standardized math exam. “Hey, [y/n].” Casey voice called to you and you glanced over to see him leaning against the wall. He was eating a cereal bar and seemed to have just came from the kitchen. “Hey casey.” You smile, but you were unable to hid the sadness in your voice. “Exam time?” Casey asked as he walked across the room and glancing at the book. “yeah. I think im pretty well prepared for all of them apart from this standardized math one.” You sit up a little more, shaking your head as if it might get rid of the growing headache. “I could help.” Casey offers, sitting down as he opens the book. “I doubt it. im pretty much a lost cause right now.” You signed. “besides, I thought you hated math.” “I do. But when I went into the police force, we all had to sit this sort of exam. I still have a lot of the stuff I used back home.” He finished the cereal bar. “Really?” you felt a small glimmer of hope in your chest. If Casey could do it, surely you could as well. “yeah, I’ll bring them round tomorrow.” He nodded. “That would really help!” you smile widely. “What bit are you stuck on?” Casey asked you, laying out the book between you both. As you told him what you were struggling with, you didn’t notice Donnie had came out of his lab. He wanted to come find you and apologies. He hated the idea of you being upset at him, and even more because he hadn’t been in the right to snap at you while you were stressed. But then he found you and Casey. He watched as Casey was able to explain an equation to you and you… you actually understood it. Donnie frowned, backing away a little. He just wanted to be… useful to you and his intellect had always been his best asset. He knew it was a pipe dream to think one day, you might fall in love with him. But that didn’t stop him from hoping that the time you spent with him might lead to more. He slowly back away, his head low before turning to head back to the lab. -------------time skip ------------------- You sat on your couch, watching TV. For the first time in weeks you weren’t stressing about the exam. In fact, you had decided to give yourself the night off since you had been studying all day with Casey. The book sat on the table, with a number of notes written out and highlighted. you were drawn from the TV when you heard your phone buzz. Glancing at the screen, you saw Donnies name pop up with a text. ‘do you want to come over and study?’ it read. Picking up the device, you unlocked it to text him back. ‘im taking the night off.’ You tell him. Your mind couldn’t help but want to go over, to be near him again. But you really didn’t want to study any more. As you were siting with your phone in your hand, you typed ‘im was just going to put a movie on. Do you want to come over?’ when Donnies response popped up. But you had pressed send before you read his response. ‘fine.’. One word. Frowning, you stared at the single word response in utter disbelief. You never thought of Donnie to be the type of guy to be like this to you. Was he still angry at you from before? Or maybe he resented having to teach you in the first place? A sense of anger pooled in the pit of your stomach. ‘never mind’ you quickly typed a sent before he could respond to your question. You then threw your phone to the side of your sofa, pulling your knees up to your chest as you tried to fight the dawning realisation that Donnie might not be the person you thought he was. ----time skip ------------ You all but ran to the lair, your results clutched to your hand. Sure, you hadn’t really spoken to Donnie for the best part of a week. He had been distant since that night. You had just assumed he was still angry with you but you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him as well. You were willing put a nail in it and accept that things were never going to be right with Donnie when you noticed something. Of the few times you had seen him, he seemed… sad. As strange as it was, you saw something in his eyes which made your heart ache. He would hurry from the room before you got a chance to speak to him, but the more times it happened, the more times you realised this was something far deeper than just one argument. You decided to put it to the back of your mind till after your exam. And now you had the perfect reason to go see him. Knocking on the door to the lab, you heard him asking who it was. “[y/n]!” you called excitedly through the door and you heard a small clatter from within and a yelp of pain. “Donnie? You okay?” “Yep, yeah.” The door opened and Donnie appeared. You glanced behind him and saw a few tools were lying on the ground. “whats up?” There was a forced happiness in his voice that you could identify anywhere but it did remind you of why you had came. “I passed.” You held up the paper which had your pass mark in the top right hand corner. Instantly, there was a spark of joy in Donnies eyes. “well done!” He congratulated you, seeming genuinely happy as he always had. He liked seeing you succeed. “Thank you.” You grinned. “want to come back to mine and grab a pizza to celebrate?” Donnie froze, his eyes wide in confusion. You blinked at him, frowning a little at his reaction. You were about to take it as a insult but then he muttered something. “You still want to spend time with me?” the words barley reached your ears as he stepped back, dropping his gaze away from you out of embarrassment. “Donnie?” you breathed his name in confusion as you followed him into the lab, closing the door behind you for some privacy. “I-i-I just thought, since Casey can h-help you now, that you might not w-want to…” He trailed off, turning away from you. “You think Ive been using you?” You ask, your heart breaking slightly. You never used people, and you hated the idea of someone who you cared for deeply thinking such a thing about you. “No! no, no, no.” Donnie twisted back to you, holding his hands out as he tried to comfort you. “i-I know im not the most exciting guy but, but I just wanted to be helpful.” He couldn’t look at you directly, his eyes darting everywhere else but you. For the first time, something in your mind clicked. Could Donnie have feelings for you? He was always the first by your side in danger and he did everything he could to keep you safe. He jumped at every opportunity to help you and spend time with you and yet seemed so shy when he was around you at the start. Now, he was more comfortable with you, but his touches lingered and his eyes hovered. could the behaviour have been out of jealousy? Not that you would condone it, but it would fit in place. There was only one way to figure it out. “I came to you because I like spending time with you.” You smile a little as you step closer. Donnie froze up, his eyes finally meeting your own. You saw tongue dart out to wet his lips out of nervousness. this gave you the confidence boost needed. Closing the gap, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his own. Donnie jumped at the feeling of your lips on his own but instantly melted again them. His hands grabbed your hips but quickly let go before settling on your sides softly. You felt your heart flutter as he kissed you back. “Im sorry.” He breathed, barley pulling away from his lips. Opened your eyes, you saw he was staring down at you. “For what?” you genuinely couldn’t think of what he was talking about. Your mind was still revelling the kiss that you had forgotten about everything, even the test which had slipped from your hand to the floor during the kiss. “How ive been behaving.” Donnie ducked his head out of embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “Well, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” You smirk, biting your lip. “Anything.” He vowed. “Buy me a pizza tonight? And I get to choose a movie tonight.” You grabbed his hand and started to pull him to the door. Donnie smiled and a soft chuckle left his lips. “anything.” He nodded, scooping up the test as you dragged him from the lab.

[minnie-marvel]

Operation Juliet (Peter Parker x Reader) Part 1

You’ve been head over heels for Peter Parker for almost a year hiding your feelings behind love letters that you never thought would reach him. When your best friend slips one into your locker, you give up on hiding your letters from Peter and begin to slip them into his locker on a daily basis. Peter is through with not knowing who you are so he and Ned finally decide to engage in a proper investigation to figure out your identity!

Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 1,702

A/N: This was requested by the lovely Nena aka @sunflowerannawrites SHE JUST WROTE ME THE MOST HILARIOUSLY WONDERFUL FIC IVE EVER READ!!! Please read her fic “Buster” and all her other works!!! I love her so much!!!

also, I learned how to add gifs to my fics aren't you guys proud of me

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Your heart was aflutter as you tried to casually look across the hall from your locker. Your eyes landed on a confused Peter Parker, who had only just realized a small pink note had fallen to his feet. You felt your skin grow hot and your fingers tremble at your sides. He picked up the note delicately in his hands and scanned it over before suddenly looking up and around himself wildly, pink flushing across his cheeks.  You tried to fight a smile as you turned your body and held your books close to your chest, walking the other way. At the beginning of the school year, you could never have dreamed of slipping a love note into your crush’s locker, but now it seemed you had suddenly gotten a new sense of courage. You thought that it suited you.

You had fallen for Peter when you had first started at Midtown. It wasn’t something dramatic like out of a movie or anything. You actually had met on the train on the way to your first day at Midtown. When you walked onto the bus and bent down to tie your shoelaces, you heard a loud stuttered spilling noise and winced. Perfect, your first day of school and you were already making a complete and utter fool of yourself. You sighed and bent down to pick up your things when you saw someone else’s hand touch your textbook, helping you pick it up. Your eyes lifted to his face and you felt yourself forget everything that you had been doing for the past five seconds.

“Need help?” You blushed. You thought his voice sounded just as his actions were: incredibly sweet and unappreciated.

“T-thank you so much!!” You stammered nervously as you picked the rest of your things off the dirty floor of the train. “Great way to start the new school year am I right??” You laughed taking the books from his hands and sliding them into your bag.

“You’re starting your first day too? Where are you going?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Midtown tech,” you answered. His smile only brightened in his realization. “Same here! Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other,” He stretched his hand out for you to take. “I’m Peter, Peter Parker.” You took his hand shaking it gently. “My name’s Y/N Y/L/N, It’s nice to meet you, Peter,” You let go of him and held onto the trains pole so you didn’t fall as it pulled off to school. 

The conversation was all small talk but you felt yourself developing small innocent feelings for him. When you had gotten to school you bid each other farewell and went your separate ways.  Since then, you didn’t have the pleasure of being close to him as you may have wanted. You may have said hi once in a while as you passed one another in the hall, and waved at one another if you were in the same class. 

Of course, that just wasn’t good enough for you.

You saw him practically everywhere, and as much as your heart wanted to drag you over to him and talk his ear off your brain held you back. Peter was a grade above you, older than you, he probably didn’t want some kid following him around like a lost puppy. He must have seen you as someone he just kept tabs on to make sure you weren’t going to embarrass him by association. However, this year was different. You were older now, still a year behind him but at least you weren’t baby-faced! Still, you felt your heart quiver every time you tried to take a step towards him if he stood in the hall.

Don’t do it! Your brain would shout. We aren’t ready for the rejection you might face if you approach him. You felt your heart ache slightly when you’d see him laugh at some dumb joke from far away with Ned. You wished he would smile at you like that. 

That’s when you decided to write your Juliet letters.

They were never meant to be sent at first, they were only a way to just flush your feelings out of your system so you could give your poor heart a proper break. 

But of course, you had to tell your dumb friend.

“What the hell Y/N?! You have letters and you’re not going to give them to him???” your friend Eve said staring at you as if you were literally the most stupid person she had met in her life.

“Of course not!!! D-do you know what would happen if he were to get his hands on these???” You asked holding up a small neatly folded pink piece of paper. Eve stared at it for a moment before yanking it out of your hand and speeding down the hall.

“EVE!!!” You screamed trying to race down the hall. She cut the corner incredibly fast in what seemed like split seconds. Curse you for of course, making friends with someone who ran for the school’s track team. You turned the corner and felt your heart sink six feet below. 

She was staring at you mischievously. You shook your head quickly in a weak attempt to stop her. She was like a cat pushing a glass cup on the table.

“Eve I swear to-” 

The letter was dropped into the slits of Peter’s locker and she turned away wiggling her fingers in a wave. “You’ll thank me later Y/N I love you bye!!” You sang before breaking out in a dash down the hall.

Your face nearly turned red in embarrassment and anger. “I HATE YOU!!!!” You screamed loudly before realizing people were staring at you causing your face to practically light on fire. You ducked into the nearest bathroom staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Is it too late to transfer schools again…” You muttered to yourself. --- Peter let his hands open the letter delicately in the middle of study hall. He had wanted to read it for a while now but his studies had prevented him from going back to the small note until now. His eyes scanned the letter and his heart began to do summersaults with every sentence he read. 

   Dear Peter Parker,

   If I were to pick a flower for each and every time that I thought of you, I’m sure by now I would have robbed each and every rose from the ground in which they stand. I’ve sighed so much over your warm eyes that I find myself shocked that I still even have air in my lungs to carry another breath.      I wish I could talk to you… I really do. But I’m scared. I know that you have better things to focus on than me. But I can’t help myself anymore. If I keep these feelings inside of me another day I think I might explode.    My knight in shining armor, there’s not a day where I don’t remember what you’ve done for me. To you, it might not have felt like anything, but for me it meant the world to have someone be so kind to me when we had only just met.    If you are as adoring and lovely as Romeo would that make me your Juliet?  I’d hope not, I don’t think I’d be a very good Juliet at all. I’d fight the world in order to earn a place at your side.    What am I saying? Here I am professing my undying feelings for you in a cowardly letter. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to speak to you outside of these pink papered walls. I hope that I can. Till then, I’ll continue to spill my feelings all over these pages like the idiot that I am.

Signed, Your cowardly, idiot Juliet

Ned nudged Peter who’s face was the same shade as the paper that he held in his jittering hands. “Dude, what is that?” He asked leaning over to read the letter. His eyes widened slowly and he blinked looking back up at Peter. “Dude….” Peter looked back at him. “Ned we need to find this girl.” He said suddenly. He looked down at your words again his eyes rereading every perfectly curved cursive letter and word. His heart was trembling. “Like. As soon as possible Ned I’m not even joking.” he finished whispering. He handed him the letter before looking around the room feverishly. It could have been any one of these girls in his study hall. He put his face in his hands to hide his growing blush. How in the world was he going to find you?

That was about a month ago.

Peter had just gotten the fifth letter stuffed in his locker again and internally swooned. Ned peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh? Has Juliet written you another letter?” He mocked in a baby voice. “Shut up Ned!” Peter punched him in the shoulder. “She’s amazing…” He finished dreamily, sliding the note in his backpack. It was a tradition now to read them once the school day was over with so he could properly freak out in peace.

“Peter, you don’t even know who she is,” Ned said skeptically. “She could be an old lady or some douche trying to pull a prank on you or-”

“She’s real Ned,” Peter said with confidence leaning against his locker now. “I’ve got spidey sense. I know she’s real,” he muttered under his breath.

“What? Bro, that’s not how it even works!!” Ned rolled his eyes starting to walk into class.

“We have to figure this out Ned I’m not joking!!! Its been a month, and we still haven’t figured it out!” Peter called catching up to him. “We have to treat this like a literal investigation… If I don’t find out who this girl is I….I might actually die.” Peter stopped mid-step and held his chest. “I’m serious Ned I don’t think I could read another letter not knowing who she is without dying.”

Ned sighed turning and patting his friend on his back. “I guess we’ll just have to start investigating.” He shrugged finally showing his support.

“Peter, it’s time to start ‘Operation Juliet’.”

Part 2

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[jae-yoonie]

Nothing More - Doyoung (M)

A/N: so like.... this is the first fic i’ve written in a while first of all... so please dont like sh*t on it ok... ima cry jk i wont... but yeahhh... this is also the first one-shot angst ive ever written so like.. i really didn’t know how to end it lmao, maybe i should read more angsts but yeah just a heads up for if you get to the end and youre like wtf is this :)))))))) ok thats all enjoyyy

SCENARIO: For a while you’d been friends with benefits with Doyoung and eventually, you started developing some feelings for him. After a few weeks of emotional torture, you decided it was finally time to let him know.

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst - SEXUAL CONTENT

Word Count: 2,414

You stared up at the blank ceiling above you, dreadfully waiting for the clock to finally hit 5. It was only 3:30, but Doyoung’s practice ended at 5:00 and you were planning to text him and invite him over as soon as he finished.

Today was an important day; you were planning to finally confess to him after being friends with benefits with him for over a year. It was a little nerve wracking considering you were “breaking the rules and conditions” of how friends with benefits works… but you just couldn’t help but develop feeling for him; aside from sex he was actually a really amazing person and it was too difficult for you to overlook. You were just staying hopeful that maybe he had developed some feelings for you too… but until then, you needed to find a way to pass the time. Still having an hour and a half to spare, you decided to just clean up your house so everything was nice and presentable when he finally came over.

“It’s five!” you chimed to yourself, catching a glimpse of the clock just as you finished tidying the last of your things. You reached for your phone as fast as you could, barely even thinking as you typed up your message.

You [5:00 PM]: Hey Doyoung! Can you come over today?

Doyoung [5:01 PM]: Yeah sure! I just finished practice so I’m gonna change and then I’ll head over

You [5:01 PM]: Okay, see you soon!

Doyoung [5:02 PM]: See you!

You could feel your heart pounding while you texted him, the anticipation making you excited but nervous at the same time. Every second dragged as you waited anxiously for his arrival, thoughts about what was about to happen racing through your head. It worried you knowing things may or may not go the way you wanted, but you were staying hopeful… it seemed like he liked you back anyways.

The moment the doorbell rang, you immediately stopped what you were doing and ran to the door, opening it as fast as you could.

“Hey,” you greeted nervously, your heart skipping a beat the moment his eyes met yours.

“Hey,” he replied, a warm smile on his face as he stepped inside.

“How was practice?”

“Other than being tiring, it went really well.”

“That’s good.”

“So… did you miss me?” he smirked, pulling you into him.

“Possibly…” you answered as your gaze fell to the floor, too shy to make eye contact with him.

“Possibly? Well if you don’t need me… I guess I could leave-”

“No!” you yelped, hugging him before he could leave.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought. So where shall we, hm? Your room or are you feeling adventurous today?”

“I was thinking… maybe you’d wanna have a nice shower after practice?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Grabbing him by the hand, you hastily led him to the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it once the two of you were inside. Without any hesitation he pressed his lips against yours, his hands sliding past your hips and down to your ass, gently groping it before giving it a firm slap.

“Doyoung…” you whined, a smirk curving onto his lips as he resumed his groping.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” he remarked brashly, biting his lip as he smacked your ass again.

“I’m not…” you muttered as you stepped away from him, tugging at his shirt to let him know you wanted it off.

He complied quickly, tossing his shirt aside as his intense gaze demanded you do the same; so you did. It wasn’t long before the rest of your clothes were discarded, the two of you finally stepping into the shower.

As the warm water cascaded over the two of you, he connected your lips once again, his bold hands carelessly exploring every inch of your bare body. The captivating sensation sent chills down your spine, the need to feel him between your legs skyrocketing in only a matter of seconds. It amazed you how easily he could read your mind, his fingers quickly finding your dripping core and teasing it.

“Wet already?” he smirked as he continued toying with your folds.

“I-it’s because of the shower,” you joked in attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow, his fixed gaze unfaltering as he slowly slipped a finger past your entrance, “What about this, hm?”

“... Okay, you win,” you whined, the way his slender finger curled inside of you turning your legs into jelly. Pushing you up against the cold tile wall, he held your hip with one hand to support your weakening body while his other continued to play with you.

“Does it feel good, baby girl?” he mumbled into your neck as he snuck another finger past your lower lips.

“Mhm…” you barely managed to get out whilst struggling to hold back your moans.

Before you had time to even process what was happening, Doyoung dropped down in front of you, slinging one of your legs over his shoulder as he took your swollen clit between his lips. Once you felt his tongue flicking against the sensitive area, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Your fingers found their way into his hair instinctively, fisting at the drenched, tangled mess of strands as he continued to push you past your limit. You could feel your body starting to shake as your climax approached, the moans you were trying so hard to hold in effortlessly slipping out in just a matter of seconds. Barely another moment passed when you finally lost it, throwing your head back as his name fell from your lips, an intense feeling of pleasure rushing through your body.

Once you finally came down from your high, Doyoung stood back up to meet your lips, desperately caressing them with his own, his arms finding their way around your waist and pulling you into him. The feeling of his erection pressing against you made you moan, his tongue taking the opportunity to quickly slide past your lips and into your mouth. He swirled it around for a bit before he separated you lips and began to trail kisses from you jaw down the length of your neck, stopping at the base to suck on the thin, delicate skin.

“Doyoung,” you moaned, your hand sliding down to stroke him, “Please?”

“Please what?” he groaned, pulling away so that he could look you in the eyes.

“Please fuck me,” you pleaded.

“I’d love to.”

Wrapping one of your legs around his waist, he guided his member to your entrance, briefly teasing your folds with the tip before slowly easily himself in. You moaned at the pleasantly familiar feeling, his firm length filling you up to the brim, the perfect amount to drive you toward the ecstasy you so desperately seeked. He started with slow, sensual movements, his hips brushing up against yours with every stroke, your arms mindlessly finding their way around his neck.

“Harder,” you groaned breathily, knowing that he was only exerting a small fraction of what he potentially could.

“Already?” he teased, his lips curving into a smirk, “We only just started.”

“Yes, I want it,” you whined.

“Alright, if you insist.”

In just the blink of an eye, he had your wrists pinned and was bucking his hips into you like a wild animal, every snap of his hips hitting the deepest depth in your core. You could barely even breathe as his powerful thrusts continuously pounded you into the wall.

“How’s this?” he grunted, his intense pace not even slowing down for a second.

“So good… don’t stop,” you moaned breathily.

You already felt so close, like you could burst at any second, but you didn’t want it to end; it felt too good. As hard as you tried to contain yourself, it only  worked for a short amount of time before you couldn’t take it anymore, the tangled mess of nerves in your core steadily unravelling to its end. In an instant you were hit with the white hot feeling of pure bliss rushing through your body, a much more intense version of what you’d felt earlier. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, your moans vibrated against his wet skin, your legs unintentionally squeezing his waist as your orgasm finished running its course. He came shortly after you, the feeling of your walls clenching around his girth bringing him to his end, spilling his hot seed into your confines. Weakly, he pulled out, the two of you taking a moment to regain yourselves and catch your breath.

“That was… amazing…” you sighed, the water still running as the two of you stood there, residing in the activities that had just taken place.

“Yes, yes it was,” Doyoung replied in a raspy, exhausted voice, “We should actually shower now though, so that we can hang out after.”

“Okay,” you agreed, forcing yourself to finally move and wash yourself.

The two of you finished up quickly and threw on some comfortable clothes before making your way to the kitchen to cook up something for dinner. Unfortunately, your kitchen didn’t have the biggest variety of groceries to cook up a nice meal, so the two of you just settled for ramen, typical.

As the two of you ate, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach started to reappear, the realization that you should confess soon suddenly hitting you when you got a glimpse of the time. Doyoung would probably be leaving in an hour or so and you definitely didn’t want to miss your chance to tell him.

“Uh, hey, Doyoung?” you started, swallowing thickly as you mentally prepared yourself for what you would say next.

“Yeah?” he replied, turning his full attention to you.

“Um… there’s something I want to tell you… So, as you know, we’ve been friends with benefits for a while and well, it’s been great… but-”

“You want to end it?” he interrupted bluntly.

“No! No… I uh… well sort of… but it's because… I like you.”

For a moment the room was silent, the look on Doyoung’s face showing that he was obviously surprised.

“Oh… I see…” was all he said when he finally spoke up.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest as you stared at him with pleading eyes, hoping he was going to say what you wanted to hear… but he didn’t.

“So?...” you asked, desperately trying to get something out of him.

“Um…” he started, taking a breath before continuing, “I’ve actually been talking to someone and well… I’m interested in her so I was actually planning to break this off sometime soon… I didn’t know you felt that way about me, I’m sorry.”

Your heart dropped at his words, a lump forming in your throat as your eyes burned, welling with tears. You’d like to think you were prepared for this to happen, knowing that this was one of the possible outcomes of your confession, but being prepared in your head is nothing compared to being prepared in real life. As hard as you tried to stop the tears from falling, you couldn’t, the ache in your heart too unbearable to conceal. You didn’t even know what to say at that point, you were really hoping that it wasn’t going to come down to this.

“Please don’t cry,” Doyoung pleaded, scooting closer to you and trying his best to comfort you, “You’re an amazing person, it’s not like I don’t like you…”

“But you don’t feel the same,” you barely managed to say, turning away from him so he couldn’t see your face, “I think you should leave… I can’t do this.”

Standing up from the couch, you walked straight to your room and shut the door, collapsing onto your bed as soon as soon as you could and for the next hour or so you just cried until you finally fell sleep.

The next morning, you could barely open your eyes, your lids swollen from having cried so much last night. After washing your face, you went downstairs to grab your phone, remembering you’d left it out since you went straight to your room after your incident with Doyoung. Picking it up, you checked the time and discovered that he had sent you a text message; as much as your head told you you didn’t want to read it, your heart still wanted to know what he had to say… so you opened it.

Doyoung [1:27 AM]: Hey, Y/n… I’m really sorry about what happened last night… I really feel bad for not knowing that you liked me and that I should’ve been paying better attention or something… I hope you can forgive me. You’re a really great person and despite our differences I hope you wouldn’t mind being friends still, but if not I completely understand… Once again I’m sorry, I know that friendship isn’t what you wanted from me, but for now it’s all I can give, I hope you understand. Honestly, if things don’t work out with this girl, I’d love to give us a chance if you’re okay with it. You have my number so please don’t be afraid to text or call me and let me know what you think… If possible I’d really like to stay in touch with you. Take your time though, and don’t force yourself to talk to me until you’re ready, I hate to see you upset. Hope you feel better soon!

You could feel your eyes starting to burn again as you read his message, an overwhelming amount of emotions crashing over you at once. It was hard for you to feel happy, but it was also hard for you to feel sad, seeing that he still cared a lot for you and said he would give you a chance if he could… there was a lot to think about for sure, but you were thankful that at least you didn’t end up with the worst case scenario. As tears continued to stream down your face, you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t be too upset about the outcome, considering you did break the number one rule of having a friends with benefits, but you were eternally thankful that Doyoung saved you from complete misery and having to learn your lesson the hard way.

[retroreaderr]

Edward Nygma/Reader | The Perfect Crime

this is it guys this is singlehandedly THE most cheesy fic i have e v e r written. right here. you know what? i don’t even care. i love this boyo too much to care. you heard it here first guys. im gay as fuck for this boy. also yeah ive been binging gotham and i love ed sm for consistency sake let’s just assume this is like, early season 1 ed ok? ok. –🕷️💋

Knock knock.

“Ed?”

The door to the lab was flung open suddenly to reveal a rather bubbly man, who all too enthusiastically cried your name,  “Good morning!”

“Good morning,” you smile back, “I figured you’d appreciate this,” you hand over his mug, a small stripe of steam rising from the coffee inside. He eagerly took it from you, grinning.

“Thank you,” he finally raised his gaze to meet yours, “Come in, please,” he stepped aside to usher you in.

“Did you analyze those blood samples for me?”

He made a small noise as he sipped his drink, and nodded slightly after setting the mug down.

“I did.”

“And…?”

He tilted his head slightly, “What can you catch but never throw?”

“Ed -”

“Come on, it’s an easy one,” he looked over at you with pleading eyes.

“A cold. But what does that -” he held up a hand to cut you off.

“Correct. Anyways, it was very interesting results, really. The victim had large amounts of dextromethorphan in his system.”

“Cough syrup?”

He nodded, “Yes, but -” he suddenly turned to sift through a stack of papers, most likely post-mortem medical reports on the victim, on one of the tables before handing it over to you, “ - He had no cold.”

“So what? He overdosed on Nyquil?”

“No, look,” he walked closer, looking over your shoulder to read the paper for a moment.

Your breathing hitched slightly when you felt his hand brush your arm as he reached out to point at a specific sentence scrawled onto the paper. You looked to where he was directing you but couldn’t read the words: you were completely frozen with him so close. He soon seemed to realize just how close he was as well, as his tone softened and his voice wavered slightly as he spoke now, “There were small amounts of arsenic in his blood.”

“So he was poisoned?” you turned your head slightly to look up at him and there was a small moment of silence as you stared at each other, only inches apart.

He broke the silence, however by clearing his throat and stepping away, though he was horrible at hiding the blush that had formed on his cheeks. He turned away then, facing one of the lab tables that was littered with various types of equipment.

“Yeah. Poisoned…It was minimal amounts though. I looked into it a bit further, there were signs of long-term exposure to arsenic in his system.”

“What kind of symptoms?”

“Oh, uh..” he fumbled trying to rearrange a few test tubes. He finally gave up, turning back to face you. He nervously pushed up his glasses before thinking, “Uh…Just…Standard symptoms. Headaches, nausea, vomiting…lung problems.”

“So…Like a cold?”

“I’d say more like a flu but, sure…Like a cold,” he agreed.

You smiled, “So the victim was being poisoned, most likely through his food or drink…Thought he was getting a cold…And then started taking the medicine, which would explain it in his system?”

“Sounds plausible enough. I wouldn’t have detected it if I wasn’t specifically looking for it, really,” he shrugged.

“Kill someone quick and easy, everyone knows. Everyone thinks it’s murder. Kill someone slowly and meticulously, no one knows. Everyone thinks it’s natural…It’s the perfect crime,” you thought aloud.

“Not my idea of a perfect crime, really,” Ed chuckled, “We still got ‘em. Guy was rich wasn’t he? Had private services? My bets are on the cook, they could’ve easily slipped the arsenic into his meals, he wouldn’t have known the difference -”

“What’s your idea of a perfect crime, then?” you interrupt his rambling.

He seemed caught off guard by the question, “Oh…I don't…”

“I’m just curious, is all.”

He looked over at you again, the curiosity in your eyes, the genuine interest you seemed to take when talking to him, it was unlike anyone else at the department. You went out of your way to talk to him, you enjoyed his stupid riddles and consulted him when you had a problem. You trusted him. You were his friend…

And yet what seemed like you just being nice meant the world to him. He was a complete mess around you; Just talking to you made his day infinitely better, and yet he still had such trouble doing it. He would stumble over his words, his heart would pound, his mind would turn to mush each time you so much as smiled at him.

“I find that the perfect crime would be committed by the perfect thief. Someone that maybe didn’t even know what they were doing, really.”

You looked at him, confused.

“The thieves that take things you can’t prove are gone,” he stared down at his hands for a moment.

“It starts off small, stealing glances, and it’s alright because you do just the same. Then you start paying attention to the little things they do, and that’s when they start to your breath away,” he took a step closer with each word, once again you were simply inches away from each other, “They steal your heart.”

You looked up at him, and you could feel yourself shaking.

“And then what happens?” you whisper closing the small gap left between the two of you. You ran your hands down the length of the lapels of his lab coat.

“Then you get back at them.”

“What…?”

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, gently at first until you reciprocated. You were barely able to process what was really happening, but you scarcely cared. A million thoughts raced through your mind but you couldn’t truly comprehend any of them:

Ed was your best friend! What was even happening? Of course, you had fallen for your closest companion, and apparently, he had fallen just as hard in return. He loved you back, he loved you back, he -

One of his hands made its way to the side of your neck, the other at your waist, though you could tell he was unsure about it all.

His grip on you tightened slightly as he pressed harder against you, which was (what you guessed was) his attempt to deepen the kiss. When you didn’t return the favor, he pulled away, fear suddenly taking over.

“I - I am so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I -”

“Eddie.”

He stopped talking, instead tensing up. Though the nickname made him weak he was still terrified of what you had to say.

You giggled, “I take that as your retaliation?”

He shook his head in confusion.

“Stealing a kiss. That was what you were going for, right?”

He was speechless, he had just kissed you and you were completely nonchalant about it? You had liked it, even? He simply nodded slightly, still confused.

“Ed?”

He blinked a few times before looking at you.

“Do you have dinner plans for tonight?”

He shook his head.

“Pick me up at…Say, seven?”

He nodded. You smiled, reaching up and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before turning to the door.

“See you then…And thanks again for helping with those blood samples.”

All he could do was make a small sound, something akin to a forced Uh-huh as you walked out of the room, completely composed.

For the first time, Edward Nygma was utterly lost for words.