#i am relatively sure that the face mask was gonna be there but i'm slightly unsure

[wilderhyperfoxations]

i had a vision.... and a dream... more like a nightmare really but here, take it *throws this in your face*

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[bluecookies02]

Alpha!Overhaul x Reader-give you pups

/NSFW/

summary: he has hands shush. We gonna pretend that scene never happened. Anyways...been sick for a few days and had the urge to have my insides misplaced...but ~gently~

warnings: A/B/O dynamics, breeding, heat, and all that stuff.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Kai always thought of Omegas as something so unsanitary and messy, his nose scrunching up each time they would be mentioned in any conversation or included in missions.

Yet eventually he wounded up with an Omega on his sleeve and in his bed at night.

They've been dating for a while, previously being close friends until Kai picked up on the way his breath would hitch when she would walk past him, his heart rate picking up only slightly and a low instinctive rumble coiling in his throat.

It took him a while to court you, inviting you to his office more times than necessary, his gloved hand "accidentally" brushing against yours as he pointed at some details on the building plan. Sometimes, too many times for it to be an accident, he would offer you his coffee, insisting that you look exhausted and tired. The thought of you putting your lips somewhere his mouth has been made him grip the table for a split second before continuing his pointless meeting.

One day he would bring you on a mission with him, pretending to not have an organized place to stay for his negotiations with the league.

He wouldn't believe his actions at first, feeling weirded out by the fact that nothing repulsed him that much as long as you were with him.

You would end up hidden in the woods in a relatively secluded cave, the cold air biting at your skin as the wind blew from the outside.

You would keep your distance, giving him his space until you found yourself snuggled inside of his coat, his warm gloved hand draped over your shoulder.

You knew him for a long time and it was obvious to you what he's been doing, yet you still yearned for more confirmation.

"Kai..." your voice would be calm and gentle, looking up at him as your breath ghosted over his mask.

He would slowly reach his arm up, tugging at the elastic and finally placing the mask in his lap.

Your breath would hitch in your throat as you leaned in slowly, looking for any sign of disgust on his face.

When none came you placed your lips softly against his, his eyes closing as he let out a long sigh of relief.

"It doesn't feel bad." he would mumble, his gloved hand cupping your chin as he deepened the kiss.

So by default, it took him a while to get used to being touched. Experiencing hugs and hand holding for the first time in his life.

You always paid close attention to being hygienic more than necessary, brushing your teeth and taking constant showers in extreme quantities, afraid of him being disgusted by you in the slightest.

While Kai did appreciate that, he began craving your natural smell and taste, your clothes dry cleaned almost every week, making it extremely hard for him to go through his ruts with your clothes against his nose.

And finally, it happened, your heat taking over you while you were locked in your own room, small whimpers leaving your throat as you struggled to not scream for your Alpha.

He would smell you from miles away, your scent piling up and luring him into your room. His cock instantly straining against his boxers.

He would lock the door behind him, drinking in your body sprawled on the bed, your hand kneading at your panties as you rubbed your thighs together.

You would immediately snap your eyes to his form, jumping to your feet and trying to rush to your bathroom to clean up, tears of embarrassment pricking at your eyes almost instantly.

He towered over you, locking you in place after throwing you back on your bed.

"I think I made it pretty clear that you're the only thing I find absolutely, wholeheartedly pure...therefore everything about you is perfect, the way you smell the way you look and the way you...taste" his mask was long forgotten and his gloves off as soon as he opened your door seconds ago.

His tongue swiped over your neck, your trembling form making him frown.

"What's the matter? Am I not doing something right?" you would whine against him, your hips bucking up to meet his and your neck pressing against his teeth.

"Oh...Are you sure about that 'mega?" he would question, leaving a chaste kiss at your neck before gliding down your body, the question not really reaching your need driven mind. You took off your own clothes hours before, the warmth on your skin being almost unbearable that you even considered getting some ice from your fridge and laying on it.

Kai's hand would grip at your hips, his tongue lolling out to lick a long stripe over the cotton material of your panties, the cloth already soaked from your slick. His lips wrapped around the material, sucking on the tasty fabric as a few drops of liquid coated his tongue. He'll definitely make use of them in the future, stuffing your pretty mouth with your own sweat and cum, because you've definitely came in them a few times already.

He would then slip them off of your legs before returning to your cunt. As soon as he slid his tongue between your folds, your hips bucked up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his head as you tried to push him closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, racking your nails in his scalp as he slurped at your hole.

He would let you ride his face, slick coating his chin as you gushed over his mouth. He craved it, his brain barely functioning properly from the lack of oxygen. He would lap at your cunt , his nails digging into your thighs as he tried to squeeze them tighter around his head, eyes closed and mind focused on engraving your taste and scent into his brain.

You throbbed against his lips, glancing down to look at him, his hips gliding against the mattress in time with your thrusts, his bulge threatening to spill over his pants, a particular wet spot prominent at the place his tip would be.

"Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate" seemed to be the only word you managed to choke out before throwing your head back and cumming on your boyfriend's tongue, tears pricking at your eyes as your cunt still ached in need.

He made quick work of his pants and the coat, pressing his forehead against yours as he took a deep breath.

"I don't think I'll be able to stop myself once I fill you up, so please say something now before I sink my teeth into that soft skin of yours." His cock twitched against your entrance, patiently waiting for your reply as he dipped his head in the crook of your neck, breath ghosting over the mating spot.

You nodded eagerly, baring your neck even further and gripping at his shoulders with great force.

"Mate~" you would breathlessly mumble as he pushed into you, stretching your walls and bottoming out in one deep thrust.

Soon enough you would struggle to hold onto him, his hips ruthlessly slamming against yours as he pushed your legs further and further apart.

He fit so perfectly into you, every ridge and vein prodding at exactly the right places as he sunk into your sloppy cunt. Bending you to his will as he plowed in and out of your tight hole, the sinful sound of your pussy gripping around him each time he stuffed you full sending into a frenzy.

His thrusts were frantic and desperate, his wolf finally getting what it craved for so long.

He was so close to cumming, so close to marking you inside and out, the thought of making you full with his pups clouding his mind, thinking about the way your tummy would bulge up as he filled you up with his seed over and over and ove-

You cried out when you felt his teeth sink into your neck, his hips stilling as he pulled your frame on his cock, holding you tight as warm spurts of cum filled your insides, his knot painfully stretching you out as it inflated and locked itself in its place.

His eyes were hooded as he watched you with adoration, your jaw slack and your tongue poking out of your mouth as you struggled to catch your breath.

His hand would reach for your mouth, swiping away the drool that pooled at the corner of it.

He would collapse on top of you, holding himself up on his elbows just slightly so he wouldn't squish you with his weight. He would then take note of the way every curve of your body looked when relaxed, grasping the chance to kiss and lick at any spot his mouth could reach, the salty flavor melting on his tongue before he swiped it over your bloody neck.

Soothing the bite, he licked over the new mating mark on your flesh, a swell of pride dancing in his chest.

As the both of you relaxed agains each other, your chuckle pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Do you really want to try for pups?"

He did not say that outloud. Did he? He didn't...He did...

He looked at your belly, imagining it round with his children, bearing small versions of you. He wanted another chance, ready to try and make up for everything he's done, although he knew that maybe he'll never do enough for that to come true.

"I think so...Do you?" you nodded, cupping his face with your hands.

"Well then mister we'll have to do this over and over again since I'm currently on the pill"

A grin broke on his face, giving a teasing thrust, making you whine.

"I'm good to go 'mega"

I felt really soft, so I had to make this cute lil thing, much love, tell me whatya think

link for my ko-fi is in my bio if you would like to commision me something 💕 dm me for prices and discounts- much love🦋

[fairytales-of-yesterday]

My Lonely Days Are Through

A/N: okay so I finally wrote a fic! this is my first fic in like,, 4 years or so? so be gentle with me I guess lmao

I am pretty content with this though! I'm soft as hell so,,, here we go :)

@gardnerlangway this one's for you, lovely

(no editing we die like men)

A yawn escapes your lips as you stretch out and then curl back up. Tim's heart flutters as he watches you rub your nose, your brows furrowed. You're currently curled up on his couch, fast asleep. It's a typical Friday night for the two of you, one spent together. After meeting Tim when you started working in the museum a few months back, the two of you had built up a routine around each other. You would eat lunch together on your break, stay after hours working and keeping each other company, you would even go grocery shopping together on weekends. Today was no exception to your intertwined schedules. Upon leaving the museum for the day, you had grabbed a late dinner and ended up back at his apartment. You had started the night working, but the stress of the week and your recent lack of sleep had taken its toll, and you dozed off relatively quickly after 2am hit.

The soft light of the television dances colors across your face as Tim looks on in complete adoration. Your eyelashes cast tiny shadows on your cheeks as your chest rises and falls steadily. You had borrowed a shirt and some shorts from him, you both agreeing it would just make sense if you spent the night, and his eyes couldn't help but wander to where the tshirt had ridden up to expose a bit of your stomach. His breath catches in his throat as he finds himself thinking about what it would feel like to hold you there. What it would feel like to just have you close. To run his hands along your soft skin and-

"Okay wow, Tim." He quickly looks back at the bright screen of his laptop in order to rid his mind of these compromising thoughts. But, as his eyes make their way back to you, he runs a hand through his hair and breaths a quiet laugh. "I really do have it bad, don't I?"

He quickly covers his mouth though as he sees you slightly stir, not wanting to wake you. He had seen the effect the last week had had on you, his heart slowly falling more and more as each day you seemed to become a little more quiet, a little less peppy, and a little less yourself. The project you had been working on was one you were very passionate about, but it had become quite the endeavor. Though you had been thrilled to take it on, the universe had not been on your side, with people forgetting to follow through with their promises, paperwork getting mixed up, and even artifacts getting misplaced for a bit due to the lack of a proper cataloging system when the museum first opened. It nearly broke Tim's heart to see you become so unhappy with something that had made you so ecstatic before. He had done all in his power to keep you smiling, with funny stories, bad jokes, and any help he could offer, but you couldn't help still being discouraged. He had even mustered up the courage to give you a little kiss on the forehead as he left your office at one point, and the smile it brought, along with the blush that rose to your cheeks, was definitely worth the ten minutes he spent panicking over whether or not he should even attempt it. Just the memory of your flustered face makes him grin.

A small whine draws him from his thoughts. He looks up to find you rubbing your eyes and slowly pushing yourself to a sitting position. He tries his best to maintain his composure as you sleepily pull down your shirt and run your hand through your hair.

"Good morning," he chuckles quietly. You look at him in sleepy confusion before realizing what happened.

"Oh nooo," you groan, putting your face in your hands. He laughs a little louder this time, scooting over on the couch to bump your shoulder with his. You smile into your palms, your face flushing pink at the contact. He bumps you again, drawing your face away from your hands. Peeking through your fingers, you can see the soft but wide smile on his face.

"Have a nice nap?"

It's teasing, but you can see something resembling concern in his gaze. You just nod in response, running a hand through your hair. "I don't think I've ever seen you fall asleep this fast," he cautiously approaches the subject, "have you slept this week?"

The laugh that escapes you in response only makes his concern grow. He asks again, softer this time, and you look up at him with tired eyes.

"I uh... I think I got ten hours this whole week."

"Ten?"

You wince slightly at his tone, cursing yourself for not adding a few hours to make him feel a bit better.

"But that's like... two hours a night! You've gotten ten hours of sleep this whole week?" You can't tell if it's shock or sadness in his eyes. Maybe both.

"Eleven if you count the nap I just took?" You joke, trying to calm him a little. "Tim, I'm okay I promise, I've been through a lot worse, honest."

"Worse?!"

Okay, so that didn't help. But before you can say anything else to try and defend yourself, he wraps you up in a tight hug. You tense up for a second, taken by surprise, but quickly you melt into him. You don't even realize you've started crying until you hear Tim trying to comfort you.

"I'm- I'm sorry," you hiccup into his shoulder, tears beginning to stain his shirt.

He rubs your back slowly, quietly shushing you, and telling you that it's absolutely okay, and you have nothing to apologize for. You shiver at his touch, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in. You stay like that for a few minutes, you trying to stop your ragged breaths and the tears spilling from your eyes, him rubbing your back, occasionally switching to run his hands through your hair, whispering words of comfort. However, eventually you pull away with a pitiful laugh.

"Sorry about your shirt," you whisper, trying to simultaneously brush your tears off of his shoulder and wipe your eyes.

"Hey, it's completely okay. I know this week has been rough. You have every right to be upset. But, it's over now, okay? Next week'll be better, yeah? I'll make sure it is."

He's relieved to see a watery smile grace your lips. No, that's an understatement. He's almost on the verge of crying himself, never having seen you in this state before. He brings his hands up to cradle your face, wiping the still falling tears with the pads of his thumbs, somehow not noticing the deep shade of red you're turning. With his hands still around your face, he tilts your head so you're looking up at him.

"Now, what do you say I pop some popcorn and you turn on something you like?"

A breathy laugh escapes you and you nod, not really trusting your voice with him this close to you. You can see the masked worry in his features as he smiles, and you mentally kick yourself for stressing him out. But, that thought leaves you as he stands up, giving you a chaste but firm kiss on your forehead. You're eternally grateful that he goes to the kitchen immediately after bc you can't stop the blush that rises to your cheeks.

"Dear god, that boy's gonna kill me," you whisper, wrapping yourself up in one of the blankets that had been resting on the back of the couch.

You start to flip through the channels, eventually landing on a documentary, and you hear a chuckle behind you. You turn to find Tim with a bowl of popcorn in his hand, looking at you in what you could only describe as fond adoration. You flush again, and he laughs fully now, plopping down beside you. You lift the blanket, inviting him in, and he gladly accepts, scooting over close enough to bump knees with you.

You fall into a comfortable silence, both of you enraptured by the bright images on the tv. Every now and then your hands brush when trying to reach for popcorn, and you mentally curse yourself for getting so worked up over cliches, not knowing that Tim was doing the exact same thing.

You're the first to speak.

"Thank you."

It's a quiet whisper, accompanied with a shoulder bump. He bumps you back and gives you a lopsided grin.

"It's the least I could do."

“What?”

“Y/N, you've spent the last few months I've known you being so amazingly kind to me. You bring me food, you save me seats in meetings, you laugh at my jokes, you-”

You cut him off very seriously, “Okay they're good jokes, Tim.”

At that he laughs, breathlessly.

“Not good enough for you to cry in the middle of a meeting! I was trying to be quiet and you almost spit your water everywhere!”

Now you're both laughing, remembering that stupid planet joke and how you just about died of embarrassment, and before you can think or stop yourself, you say it.

“God, I love you.”

It's like all the oxygen leaves the room. Both of you are immediately gasping for breath, as if the air had been knocked out of your lungs. Before you can sputter out an apology, anything to make things go back to how they were before you blurted out what had been your most well-kept secret, Tim manages to get out,

“You… you what?”

His eyes are wide, and you're sure yours are as well. You're in love with him. You're in love with him. You had never even said it to yourself before. It had always just been little sighs, thoughts of him basically all the time, or little whispers to yourself about how bad you've got it. Never an outright, ‘I'm in love with Tim Murphy.’ No, the first time you said it just had to be right to his face.

You start to say ‘sorry, no, wait,” to say, ‘hold on I shouldn't have done that,’ but then you stop. And you look at him. Tim. Tim, with his sweet words and his brilliant mind. Tim, with his adorable laugh and beautiful smile that he had come to trust you with. Tim, with his tight hugs that make you feel safer than almost anywhere else. Tim, with his strong arms and gorgeous face and Jesus Christ his HANDS are just about the hottest things in the world like oh my god the things he could- you've gotten off track. The point is, you don't want to apologize. You don't want to take it back. You love him.

So you say it again.

“I love you.”

And then it's quiet. He looks honestly shell-shocked. You can almost see his gears turning behind his eyes, trying to figure out what to say after that. Immediately, your brain jumps to the worst possible scenario, and you begin to backtrack.

“I'm sorry. Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just- you're so lovely, but you can completely ignore any of this just hap-”

And then he's kissing you. It's a short kiss, just a sweet, small one, but you're out of breath when he pulls away. You open your eyes to see him in a similar state, his face completely flushed. But he quickly finds his voice.

“I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that.”

All you can do is laugh, still trying to remember how to breathe.

“The feeling is mutual.”

He blushes and gives a bashful smile, then hesitates again, opening his mouth, then closing it, once more unable to speak. However, he manages to regain his composure enough to ask,

“Can… can I kiss you again?”

Not even bothering you answer, you close the gap between you. You feel Tim smile against your lips, and you can't help but do the same. You don't know how it happens, but somehow you end up on his lap, straddling him. Your hands are on his chest as your lips move in sync, slowly, but desperately. Passionately. His hands make their way into your hair, and you whimper quietly into his mouth as he gives it a slight tug. Your face heats up immediately, but you just keep going, pretending it didn't happen and hoping he missed it. He definitely heard it though, and you feel him smirk against you.

Shit, that's hot … everything he does is hot.

You roll your hips experimentally to retaliate, still on top of him, and the moan that leaves his lips is one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. It goes straight to your core, and you let out a groan yourself. You start to roll your hips once more, desperate to draw that sound from him again, but his hands come up to your waist and stop you. You can see he’s panting, and his hair is all disheveled.

“Okay, as much as I want to do that, and I really wanna do that,” he pauses as you giggle, “you just told me that you got 10 hours of sleep this week. I promise we can continue another time, but right now, you need to sleep.”

You pout, knowing he's got a point.

“Okay, but only since you promised.”

He helps you off his lap, letting you use him as support, and gently guides you to his bedroom. He makes a big, dorky show of tucking you in, making sure you're comfortable, offering to make you a glass of water. Finally, he gives you a soft smile, says a quiet goodnight, and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead. Your face immediately flushes, and you whisper a soft goodnight back as he turns to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?"

He turns around, confused.

"The couch?"

You give him a grin, suddenly a bit shy, and wordlessly lift up the covers next to you. He stares at you for a moment, still sporting that confused expression, and then suddenly it's like a lightbulb goes off in his head.

"Oh. OH! You want..?"

You giggle sleepily at how flustered he is. Just a few minutes ago you were about to rip each other's clothes off, and now he's getting stuttery about sleeping in the same bed as you.

"I hope you like to cuddle."

At that, he smiles sheepishly, and nods without a word. You watch as he changes into pjs, his boxers and an old band tshirt, and it takes all your willpower to not start anything again. After turning the lights off, he slides into bed next to you. There's a moment of hesitation, a moment where it seems like he can't quite decide what he wants to do, but then you feel him move closer to you, and suddenly, he's holding you. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and you can feel his smile against your skin. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, and you turn to press one into his hair. You both sigh, more comfortable and safe than you've ever felt in your life.

"Goodnight, Tim."

"Goodnight."

A beat.

"I love you."

You smile.

"I love you too."

[rogue-barnes-16]

SECRETS (part III/IV)

Summary: Detectives James Barnes and Y/n Y/l/n never really got along, despite being partners for seven months. You could say they hated each other, however, when James’ past shows up threatening to break him all over again, the truth about their feelings comes to the surface.

Pairing: cop!Bucky Barnes x cop!Reader

Genre: angsty (fluff in the end)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @sinviix @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125

Warnings: angsty, language

A/N: *EDITED* It's finished babes.

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist (here you can find part I and II)

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

"Okay" Y/n muttered, more to herself than to me, while she opened her front door. "c'mon. Make yourself comfortable" she requested, closing the door behind us after I had stepped in.

Without any other word, she walked through the hall and dissappeared into one of the rooms. Since I didn't know what to do, nor were to go, I stood still and looked around, taking a moment to properly observe the apartment.

It was relatively small and a bit chaotic. None of the items seemed to have any connection, but then I started to see they all had a part of Y/n in them.

"told you to make yourself comfortable, didn't I?" I jolted at her voice suddenly breaking the peaceful silence while she walked towards me with a pillow and a folded blanket in her arms. "you should listen to me once in a while"

"I already did that today" I replied, following her to the couch in the living room where she was now sitting. "I agreed to stay with you. Didn't I?" I added the last part mocking her tone.

She rolled her eyes, the lightest ghost of a grin on her lips "You're a bit of a dumbass"

I shrugged and replied "not the worst thing that you called me."

It was meant to be a teasing comment, but, instead of giving me a snarky reply, she shifted uncomfortable in her seat. "Okay" she cleared her throat whilst rubbing her hands. "I'm going to sleep. If you need to go to the bathroom, it's" she got up "at the end of the corridor."

She made an attempt of saying something, but instead, she shut her mouth again and gave me a small smile.

And the saddest think about that smile was that I knew it wasn't genuine. I knew it was something else, something way worse.

"Y/l/n" she stopped walking and turned to me when I called her. "for fucks sake, don't pity me, okay?"

There was a beat of silence full of tension before she replied with a calm but almost offended voice. "I'm not pitying you" I scoffed. "Stop being so damn paranoid, Barnes."

I clenched my hands together, holding back not only the anger and the frustration, but also the pang of pain in my heart. "this was a bad idea."

" 'S better than let you spend the night on the break room's couch, though" she made a pause and added, "or in a random bar, getting blackout drunk."

"first thing tomorrow morning I'm looking for a fucking motel room" I hissed, violently throwing the pillow to one side of the couch before getting up to prepare the blanket she gave me. " 'cause if I gotta live with you for an entire week, I'm gonna lose it."

She scoffed "so am I" and, before I knew it, she was besides me, putting my hands away from the blanket to do it herself. "I can't fucking stand you either. But here I am, asking you to sleep in my couch for a damn week, well aware that I'll be wanting to kill you the second night" I swallowed, silently begging for her to shut up. "and you know why, smartass?" she pushed herself off the couch, standing on her feet right in front of me.

"fuckin' surprise me, darlin'." I managed to hiss in low voice, despise masking the spark of fear growing on my chest at the thought of how she could end the sentence.

Her lips pursed and her jaw clenched, and for a second I was terrified because fuck, deep down I knew that she could hurt me.

Badly.

Then her gaze softened very slightly and when she spoke, her voice was much calmer. "because I care"

Out of everything she could have replied, I would have never expected her to say that. It left me so shocked that I didn't even notice when she left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up, exhausted and sweaty, hyperventilating due to another bad dream that I had gotten used to during the last months.

After propping myself over my forearms, I saw Y/n with her arms crossed, leaning against the door frame of her room in a way that she had a perfect view of my shaky form.

"Christ" I cursed, letting myself fall on the couch with my hands covering my face. "What the hell, Y/n?" I asked, equally startled and ashamed.

"you alright?" she asked hesitant.

And why the fuck did she asked? Was that question really necessary? I mentally asked to myself.

I heard a couple of noises and when I removed my hands from my face, I saw her leaning over the coffee table to leave a glass of water and a cookie over it.

"try to rest. If you can't, wake me up and we'll work on the case" she whispered, letting her hand briefly squeeze my shoulder on her way out of the living room.

Before her fingers completely slipped off me, I held her hand for a second to stop her. " hey Y/n" She turned around and hummed, prompting me to talk. "can we work on the case now?" I asked quietly, not believing the stupidity I had just said. "just for a bit?"

She took a peek at the clock hanging onto the wall and sighed. "Sure. Just until you're tired again, though." Y/n said, going to her room to get, I assumed, the reports of the case that she kept in her house.

"Okay" I agreed, sitting up to leave her some room for when she came back. "thanks"

"whatever" she mumbled, sitting down besides me and leaving the folders over the coffee table. "anythin' to make you shut up for a bit." there was no bitterness in her voice when she spoke. "and for the record, I'm not pitying you, it's just that I'm... I don't know" she cleared her throat, relocating the folders even though didn't need to be relocated.

It was one of her nervous habits. To unnecessarily tide up things. Just like it was running a hand through her hair or rubbing her hands together.

"I know it doesn't make sense, but I wish I had noticed it earlier."

"there's nothing you could have done anyway" I tried to make it better, but apparently, I only made it worse.

"yeah I guess" she shrugged. "well never know" looking at me, she pursed her lips in a thin line and the corners of her mouth twisted up in a sad smile. "anyway, let's get to work"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

Everything went amazing during the first four days.

Instead of hating each other even more, our dynamics surprisingly change for better. The silent communication between us was now way more smooth and fluent; the teasing and taunting, even though it was still there, it had gotten considerably less aggressive and more playful.

It was the morning of the fifth day when everything went south.

I had fallen asleep on my bed with Bucky besides me, but when I woke up, he wasn't there.

That wasn't what worried me.

No.

No.

What worried me was the sounds that woke me up. I heard shouts coming from a female voice.

When I walked out of the room, I was met with that Dot girl pacing on my living room. "are you fucking serious right now, James?! Why would you do this to me?!"

For some reason, I felt the need to go to my room and grab my gun before confronting her in the living room.

So I did, because if she had managed to get in my apartment, then she was actually dangerous.