#you squint to see small print but swear you don’t need readers

[thecleverqueer]

I like the fact that Anakin mentions that Ahsoka looks old, because she is old.

And, it’s a great reminder for those that are wondering why she’s acting stoic and mature and not “excitable, energetic, and quippy”…BECAUSE SHE’S IN HER FORTIES!

Ahsoka isn’t out of character FFS. She’s in character in her forties. One day, folks that are writing these things will be in their forties, and they’ll truly understand. Until then, my god, just know that this is the most annoying complaint ever.

[whoabo]

all i have

pairings: bo burnham x reader.

part one: all i wanted.

warnings: swearing, angst, sad bo.

era: inside (2020–21)

a/n: thank you guys for waiting so patiently for the second part. i’m so sorry it’s been so long, i accidentally deleted the first draft and had to re write it. so hopefully you enjoy. ily <3.

four days.

four days.

three nights.

you left four days and three nights ago. not even saying ‘i love you’ back.

bo hadn’t stopped calling you since that night. the only time the phone stopped ringing was when he fell asleep. clutching a tear stained pillow with bruce asleep by his feet.

he didn’t realize how much he royally fucked up. he didn’t realize just how much harm he did. he thought you were fine while he was working in the guesthouse. she never complained, so he never asked.

he now realizes how flawed his logic truly is.

when he awoke, his face felt hot. it felt wet. lifting a hand to his cheeks he sighed and stood up. the sound of bones popping as he stretched made him cringe.

he walked down the hallway— not without bending down a smidge to block from hitting the doorway. reaching the living room he collapsed on to the couch. he stared at the wall, one that held a framed photo. it was a picture of you and him, about four to five years ago, it was when he adopted bruce.

he always laughed at the picture when lever his eyes happened to land on it. it was pretty much a selfie of you two, that he printed and framed.

looking at it now makes a feeling rise in his stomach, a feeling that he can’t really describe. it’s not painful nor is it a good feeling. it’s more dreadful, anxiety ridden, if you will.

“jesus fucking christ.” he groaned sitting up.

he could already tell the layout of his day.

sit down, get up, call, sit down, get up, let bruce out, sit down, get up, call, sit down, get up, make lunch, sit down, call, get up, feed bruce, sit down, get up, call, lay down, and eventually cry everything out.

sounds eventful.

as he stood over the stove, cooking some eggs. he made a decision to take a two week long break from his special. he’s gonna spend. that time trying to get you to come home.

grabbing his phone he noticed the time; eleven forty nine. (11:49 am) and zero calls. well one from his mother but not one from the person he so desperately wants to talk to. back to his mother, he’ll just facetime her before he goes to bed.

he opens his phone as he turns off the stove. clicking on the green phone icon, he presses the oh so familiar contact.

the sound of your phone ringing was enough to pull you out of your sleep. your eyes squinted as you lifted up your phone to your face.

the name displayed caused a feeling in your stomach. guilt, anxiety, happiness, anger? who knows. it’s hard to depict the feeling to an exact word. if that makes sense.

“fuck it.”

accept.

not daring to say word, you hold the phone against your ear. the sound of his breathing is almost too loud, that being the only thing audible.

“hello? did- did you answer?” hearing quiet shuffles from the speaker, you close your eyes at the sound of his voice.

“you answered.” he spoke, sounding— almost— marveled that you did.

you sigh and open your eyes, “would you rather i didn’t?”

shit. you didn’t mean for that to sound snarky. but he deserves it.

“no, no. i just— you haven’t been answering me all week so i didn’t really expect you to answer.”

you sit up, leaning against the headboard of the bed. you anxiously note the tip of your nails as you figure out what to say to him.

“i’m sorry.”

really? ‘i’m sorry’? you have nothing to be sorry for, he’s the one who should be apologizing. he ignored you for months while living in the same house together and your gonna say sorry cause you didn’t answer his calls for four days?

that’s not shit compared to what he did.

a bittersweet chuckle left bo’s lips, “you’re sorry? i should be the one apologizing. i was a total fucking douche and left you alone. i shouldn’t have put this special so far above you. and to yell at you— .. god, i’m so sorry, honey.” his voice changed a lot during his mini ramble.

it started off very emotional, then started to get louder. not yelling but not taking in his regular speaking voice. it stood directly in the middle. but. it ended with boarder line whispering.

the way his voice sounded like a plead, in some sorts made you want to just drive home and hug and hold him.

he cleared his throat, “i miss you.”

did you miss him?

of course, who are we kidding.

“i miss you too.”

a gasp was heard from the other side of the phone. it sounded hopeful, excited, happy, etc.

“oh, you have no idea how happy that makes me, honey. god, i’ve missed you so much. i truly realized how much of an asshole boyfriend i was— am. i promise i won’t do that again.” he pleaded.

you take the phone away from your ear and look at your sheets.

just go back home.

“i.. uh.” you stuttered.

“you what, baby?”

you squeezed your eyes shut. it shouldn’t be this hard you’ve said this to him a thousand times before.

“i- i love you, bo. i don’t know when, but i’ll be back. soon. okay?” you whispered. so low, bo could barely hear it. but he caught it.

a noise crackled through which sounded like a sigh of relief.

“of course. take your time. i love you too, y/n.”

two am.

two o’ one am.

two o’ three am.

eventually, two thirty am.

weird time to be waking up and deciding to leave your friends house with a small paper on the fridge thanking her for letting you stay.

with a bag thrown— quite dramatically— in the back seat, you’re off.

there was something about that call. about his voice. the way he sounded like he had been sick or crying, maybe even both. how would you know, you’ve been gone.

the time spent away from him, it was needed. but now it was time to go back and see him. hold him. or hold bruce, whoever came up to you first.

pulling up to the house, you turned you headlight off and sighed. it was relief. the relief of finally being home.

all the lights were off but you saw his car in the drive way. luckily he’s home. but hopefully his in the house.

unlocking the door and making it down the hall to the bedroom door, which was already half way open. you snuck in and saw bo facing away from the door and clutching a pillow to his chest. bruce laid comfortably at his feet. you smiled, eyes tearing up the slightest bit.

your legs and feet start to move, somewhat, on their own and you walk to the other side of the bed. slowly, you slip under the covers and place a hand on top of bo’s.

he jolts a little and mumbles out your name, not able to open his eyes fully. he feels your hand come to contact with his cheek and he sleepily smiles.

“holy fuck, you’re home. i’ve missed you.” he slurs, seemingly too tired to even say words properly. the best he can do to show some kind of affection while being half asleep is moving his head to rest on your chest.

“i missed you too, bo.”

“i’m taking two weeks.. uhm, two weeks off from making my thing.”

you laugh at how tired he sounds. not being able to remember what exactly he’s working on at the moment.

he wraps an arm around your waist and soon enough falls back asleep. you smile and pull the blankets up more. almost covering both of your guys chins.

“goodnight, bo.” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“goodnight, y/n. i love you.” he murmurs.

[thebookreader12345]

Memory Lane

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x reader

Summary: Y/N gets severely injured on the job, and throughout her time in and out of consciousness, she recalls the memories that she's shared with Adam throughout the years

Requested: No

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of getting shot

Word Count: 1,718 Words

One minute, I was fine. The next, I was on the ground, clutching at my shirt which was stained dark red with blood. It wasn't supposed to go down like this. It was a simple exchange, money for drugs, but everything went sideways when a patrol car intercepted the meeting. That was especially bad news for Adam and I seeing as neither of us had on bullet proof vests.

"Y/N!" Adam shouted and hooked his arms under my armpits before dragging me behind our car. Gunfire echoed around us, but the only thing I was trying to focus on was Adam. "5021 Ida. I need an ambo to the south block of Union. We're in the abandoned lot near the factories. My partner's been shot."

"Copy that 5021 Ida. An ambulance is 3 minutes out," the dispatcher replied.

"Adam," I murmur.

"No, Y/N, don't talk," Adam ordered and pressed his hands onto my wound, which caused me to wince. "Save your strength. Everything's gonna be okay."

"I've been shot in the stomach and I'm lying in a pool of blood," I whisper and clutch Adam's arm. "It's not cool to lie to me when I'm dying."

"Hey, you are not going to die on me. Not here, not now, now ever," Adam said. I nodded as my vision started to blur slightly, and I began to lose my strength. My grip on Adam's forearm loosened and my hand fell slack to the side, hitting the rocky gravel pavement. I could feel my conscious fading away, and it took everything in my power to keep my eyes the slightest bit open. Adam noticed my sudden silence, and when he realized that my eyes were staring to close, his face was flooded with worry. "Keep your eyes open, darling. The ambulance is almost here. You can do it."

I wanted to be strong for Adam, but it was getting hard to stay awake. My brain was begging me to close my eyes and get some rest, and I fought the urge to lose consciousness for as long as I could, but that didn't last forever. I felt my eyes flutter shut, the last thing I saw being Adam's distressed face. It was weird though, being unconscious. Everything was black, and there was no light in sight. That's when the black disappeared though, and suddenly, I was reliving the time Adam and I first met.

Flashback

"Here are the papers you requested Trudy. All 26 of them," I declare and place the stack of papers on the front desk.

"I'm impressed," Trudy confessed. "I didn't think you'd get it done in time."

"Hey, we may be short in the bullpen, but that doesn't mean I can't get my own work done quickly," I say.

"Speaking of being short on people, Al's brining in the new recruit now," Trudy spoke and nodded behind me. I turned around just as Al bounded up the front steps with our new rookie trailing a few steps behind him.

"Hey, Al," I greet my co-worker. "Who's this?"

"Y/N, this is Adam Ruzek. He's going to be our newest team member. And Adam, this is Y/N L/N," Al introduced. "She's one of the members of Intelligence."

"It's nice to meet you," Adam admitted.

"Yeah. You too," I reply.

"So, are you gonna be my partner?" Adam questioned.

I laughed softly. "Sorry, but I'm partnered up with Antonio. You're stuck with Al."

"Oh. Al was telling me about you on the ride over so I just figured..." Adam trailed off, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.

"He's cute. I like him," I tell Al.

Al chuckled. "I figured you would."

"Well, Adam, it was nice meeting you, but I've gotta get back upstairs and finish some more paperwork. Al, would you mind buzzing me up? My print hasn't been working lately," I explain.

"Sure. Ruzek, I need you to stay here and fill out some paperwork with Sergeant Platt. She can let you up when you're done," Al said.

"Got it. Again, it was nice meeting you, Y/N," Adam voiced.

Flashback Ends

When I slightly regained consciousness, my eyes cracked open the tiniest bit, just enough for me to know that I was in an ambulance. I could hear the sirens echoing on the street outside and feel the bounce of the wheels as they drove on the concrete road. I could also feel Adam squeezing my hand as a paramedic tended to my wound. But all of that disappeared in a matter of seconds as I slipped away for the second time that afternoon. This time, I was brought back to our first kiss.

Flashback

"No way! That never happened," I object and laugh.

"Yes it did. I swear. My dad walked in on me and my girlfriend at the time making out," Adam claimed.

"That must've been so embarrassing. I would've hid from my parents for a month if that happened to me," I say.

"Yeah, well, I was a teenager, and they provided me food and shelter, so I couldn't exactly avoid them," Adam joked.

"Well, this is me," I murmur and gesture to the apartment building a few yards up. Adam nodded and pulled to the curb, parking his car to let me out. Just before I could exit the car, Adam stopped me.

"Let me walk you up," Adam spoke and climbed out of the car. I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips, and exited the car. I slung my purse over my shoulder and joined Adam on the sidewalk, and together, the two of us walked up the stairs of my apartment complex and stopped at the front door.

"I had fun tonight," I confess and turn to face Adam. "We should do this again sometime."

Adam nodded. "Definitely. But uh, before I go, there's one more thing I have to do." And with that, Adam leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled against his lips and moved my hands up to cup his cheeks, which caused him to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me closer. I could taste the faintest bit of beer on his lips, and it went surprisingly well with the wine flavor that was still occupying my tongue. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, and I was a bit upset when we pulled away from each other. "I couldn't leave without giving you a goodnight kiss," Adam admitted. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Adam," I reply.

Flashback Ends

This time, when I came to, I was being wheeled into the ER at Chicago Med. I had an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth to help me breathe, but that didn't help much with my labored breathing. Through my squinted eyes, I could make out a few people hovering above me, but I couldn't seem to hear what they were saying. Along with Adam and the paramedics, I saw Dr. Rhodes, who was wheeling my stretcher in the direction of the elevators. I didn't stay conscious for long, and when I drifted off, I was seeing another memory.

Flashback

"Y/N, can we just talk? Please," Adam pleaded. I ignored his pleas from where I was seated on the floor against the bathroom door, and leaned my head back against the wood. Tears fell from my eyes and slid down my cheeks, but I didn't even bother wiping them away. "Y/N? Come on. Let me in."

"I don't want to talk to you right now," I murmur.

"Y/N I..." Adam trailed off for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, okay? I know that it was reckless of me to jump in front of that bullet but-"

"You could've been killed, Adam," I interject.

"But I wasn't," Adam countered. "And I'm not even hurt. The vest stopped the bullet. I'm okay."

"I get that, but what if you weren't?" I propose. "What if the vest didn't protect you? What if you had been seriously hurt? I can't live without you, Adam."

Adam sighed from where he was standing on the other side of the door. "You will never have to live without me. I'm never gonna leave you, Y/N. I love you so much."

My breath got caught in my throat at Adam's words. We had never said 'I love you' to each other before. I sniffled and stood up, using the back of my hand to wipe away the tears that had remained on my cheeks, and then I opened the door. Adam was standing a few feet away from the door, and he looked up when I exited the bathroom. I took a few steps forward and hugged him tightly, burying my face into his shoulder.

"I love you too," I breathe out.

Flashback End

My eyes opened slowly, and I cringed at the brightness of the room, closing my eyes again. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes again, blinking a few times to get used to the light. A small groan slipped past my lips as I tried to move to a more comfortable position, and that alerted Adam, who was sleeping in a chair next to my bed, that I was awake. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter, his hand automatically gravitating to mine.

"Hey," Adam muttered, his voice laced with sleepiness. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I hurt everywhere," I reply. "But I think I'll be okay."

"You uh, you had me worried for a bit," Adam confessed and squeezed my hand softly.

"Don't worry. I don't plan on going anywhere any time soon," I admit. "But I do plan on taking every measure to make sure I don't get shot ever again. It hurts like hell."

Adam chuckled. "I will do everything in my power to keep you out of harm's way."

"You know what else you can do? Get me a cup of Jell-O from the cafeteria," I tell him.

"Deal," Adam said and stood up. "But I'm also gonna grab Dr. Rhodes on my way back so that he can check up on you."

"You're the best boyfriend ever," I exclaim. "I love you."

"I love you too," Adam responded and leaned down to peck my lips.

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

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13​ @anotherfan07

[junnibook]

“little helper” Dabi x reader.

++++++++++++++++++++++

A/N: i don’t think it should be said but i’ll mention it anyways, dabi isn’t a good guy and isn’t going to be soft to the reader. read the nsfw alphabet to know how he is other than that you should know. 

warnings: throat fucking, dubcon, size kink, choking , NSFW, marking, quirk play, collaring, dom/sub, degrading.

••••••••••••••••••••••

You never knew why he always came to you. well you kinda did, you met him at a bar, it was a rather empty bar now that you think about it. he liked the fact that you were smaller than him. one thing led to another and he had you the same night. 

he never made it to much of a habit to come to you. you once tried to get him to stop coming to you, telling him that you were seeing some one lying right threw your teeth. 

of course he knew you was lying and left a hand print for you “someone” to see. 

you’d be the biggest liar if you said it didn’t feel good at all. it’s absolutely AMAZING, but you would always be so tired the day after, maybe even two. 

he’s draining you and you knew it. hell, he knew it too and he didn’t care one bit. he loved leaving you ruined a mess, knowing he left you like that in matter of an hour or two made him feel cocky. 

but it’s been a while since you seen him- since he’s seen you. you knew he was a villain and it didn’t change how you seen him. but you couldn’t help but think that maybe he’s been caught by a hero.. 

you jolted to the sudden buzzing of your phone, hesitantly picking it up, you knew it wasn’t your friends, not at this hour. the light from the screen made you squint, temporary blinding you for a second. your heart dropped at the name that popped on the screen. 

dabi.. saved in your phone as such as well. 

you opened his text fast, to fast for even you. “i’m staying at your place” 

you stood up panicking, why would he need to stay here of all places?, you didn’t have any extra rooms just the one and you should know that he won’t take the floor. what’s it like cuddling with a highly dangerous villain anyways?. 

knowing him he might just kick you out your own bed.. “ put your collar on”  you stared at that message. not hating it, actually you were confused on the action, what did you have to do tomorrow..?

right you had to meet with your FRIEND, a guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. 

you can’t miss this chance to be with him, all you needed to do is tell dabi that you can’t see him anymore, that easy right? look into his strongly attractive blue eyes and tell him that you can’t take the dick that drives you absolutely crazy every time you have it. 

you closed your thighs together just thinking about it stretching you fully. you walked over to your dresser pulling out a simple black collar with a chain for a leash. 

you slipped it on moving to the front door of your small apartment, unlocking the door. dabi hated knocking he would say ‘ boyfriends knock’ he never wanted to. 

you bit you lip sitting on your couch, playing out how this would go, all you needed to do is tell him about your friend he’ll understand right?. 

your heart sinking  when the door opened, bored blue eyes came along with it, he couldn’t stop the smirk that played on his lips. “ looks who’s being obedient “ he walked in closing and locking the door behind him. 

“dabi” your voice shook when you stood up, having to stand further away so you could see his face. since you only came up to his chest right where the point of his scar was.

he walked up to you taking hold of the end of the leash, you nervously looked away. “ i um have plans with someone” you pushed out, it fell to deaf ears because he wasn’t listening, he was too busy watching your body. 

plans? 

if you had plans that you wanted to actually go to, you would’ve kept your door locked and wouldn’t walk here in just a shirt and collar. but you didn’t deep down you want dabi and you want to forget about your friend.

“ seen the news? those damn hero’s burned our little hideout to the ground for some kid, pretty damn stressful. lucky for me i have a little helper to help release this stress, guess who that is “ he pulled on the leash bringing you down to where his waist is. 

blush covered you face as you looked up threw your eyelashes at dabi who blankly looked down at you. “ me, i’m the little helper” he grinned “ than you should know what to do” he walked over to the couch sitting down on the soft furniture. 

his legs spread wide so you could get between them. your fingers quickly went to his belt, “ so eager huh, don’t tell me you miss my dick that much” you’d be lying if you said no, who wouldn’t miss such a big and thick piece of body. 

he was already hard, he was hard on the way to you, thinking about all the things he’s going to do to ruin your body. you unzipped his zipper jumping back seeing his dick spring out, almost punching you in the face. 

you took no time, running your wet tongue along his tip, getting a harsh low “fuck” from him and a taste of salty pre-cum filled your taste . you licked along the side over every thick vein he had getting him wet. 

your hand stroked from base to you, meeting up with your tongue that played with his tip before placing him fully in your mouth, you felt him buck slightly into you. taking him in was no problem he taught you that, by forcing you to breath threw your nose. 

now keeping him there is was the problem, maybe he wouldn’t notice if you didn’t deep throat him this time. he was too quick to notice. “ don’t tell me you forgot that fast” he gripped the back of your head shoving you fulling on him, listening to you choke/gag on him is like music to his ears.

your drool covered him quickly as he brought you head back up than shoving it back to the base, your nose touching his  short hairs, he repeated that, stretching your small neck, making it hard for you to even breath out your nose.

the room filled with the sound of wet gagging and his string of swears. he only picked up the speed giving no mercy for your neck, you didn’t mind , you don’t know why getting your throat stretched turn you on so much but it did. you moaned into his dick sending vibration threw him, making him buck into you harshly. 

“ fucking slut, you like swallowing my dick don’t you “ he grunted out before shoving your head all the way down, with one last grunt he left his first batch in your mouth, he pulled out, some cum dripping down his dick and your chin.

“swallow it” his words short and demanding, you swallowed hard twice. licking your chin looking up at him while doing it. he took the leash pulling you closer to his dick “ go ahead and lick it clean” you licked the sides for any left on him. 

he picked you off your knees in front of him, hope you didn’t like the clothes your wearing because he ripped/burned them off you you. “ now look at that, a clean canvas for me to paint on” all his old marks had faded “ you can’t i.. i have to meet someone tomorrow “ it hurt to talk but you had to let him know. 

“ going to go fuck someone huh, well you can fuck them with my marks on you, let them know that your a little slut who craves the dick of a villain.” he put you in front of him, switching positions. so that you showed your arch to him. “ that’s not true “ you didn’t even know what you accused him of lying about. 

“ look how wet you are for me, your dripping, admit how much you want my dick right now, you want it just as much as i want to fuck you don’t you “ he rubbed his hands up your cunny opening up to your ass. his hand left your body than came back to it with a harsh smack and heat hot enough to make a red handprint for days. you moaned loudly to receiving it.

“fucking masochist, getting off to the feeling of being lightly burned” he did your other cheek add more heat. you hummed in delight. your hole wanting nothing more than too be filled with him. 

you hated waiting on him, even more so when you knew he was behind watching you get sexually frustrated. which you was, he wasn’t going to move until you said what he wanted to hear. “dabi~” it came out more like a whine than anything. you moved back moaning at the feeling of his tip, touching your opening. 

just when you think your going to get the pleasure you crave, you end up with another smack to the ass, a pleasure but not one you craved. “ don’t fucking do it your self unless i tell you too”  he gave a threatening tone. 

something he wanted to hear, a simple please wouldn’t even get you a finger. 

“dabi can i have it now, please i can’t wait any longer, i want to be filled already please” you gasped feeling his hot hands grip your hips, pulling you back to him taking in his great length. moaning out to finally getting filled. 

he didn’t wait for you to adjust to him, he just rolled his hips deeply into you, his hips smacking your slightly bruised ass. he took the collar pulling it back making your arch better for his view, your back dimples showing.  

he ran his scarred hand down your arch loving how good it looks. his other hand still had a tight grip on you so you can’t go anywhere, so you can’t run from his thrust. you moved your self back on his dick. the feeling of him stretching you only made you crave him more. 

your moans slipped out without wanting them to, one after another, your juices covered him and dripped onto the floor. the wet slaps of him slapping his waist on your ass watching the cheeks moves.

“ still planning on showing up to that friend “ he smacked your ass, you knew the answer but didn’t want to leave your friend just out there. “mhmm mhmm i am i have too” you moaned out loudly, him pulling the collar made you speak louder. 

“well let me give them something to fucking look at then” he moved you back so you pressed on his chest, his hand gripped you neck as he pushed into you deeply making you, move up on his dick. with every thrust he made, harsh slapping. 

you felt your walls flutter around his dick, just when his hand got loose and you were going to fall back on the couch and release your built up joy , he  pulled you taking a harsh grip on you, you almost messed up and knew it. 

“you wasn’t thinking of cuming now were, little sluts don’t get to cum without permission” he pulled out of you leaving you feeling empty, you rubbed your self on him eager to put him back inside. 

he sat on the couch, having you above him, he brought you close, sucking on your tits biting down lightly on your nipple, sucking on the flesh and leaving hickeys on you, having you moan out in pain in pleasure as he marked you up. 

He watched as you desperately tied to put his dick into your wanting cunny. His big hands placed over your thighs griping them tightly with heat as he shoved you down on him.

He let out a hiss of pure pleasure as you called his name out in bliss. You sat there waiting for him to thrust into you, “ you want it so bad, show me how much you craved for me while I was gone” dabi looked down at you , his blue eyes staring into yours both holding equal amounts of lust.

You slowly started grinding yourself on him , humming as his lap became wet with your juices, your grinding turned into bouncing. You felt him dig his nails into your sides as he sucked your nipples, you could feel him groaning. 

his hand bucked up to meet your thrust, fast and harsh, you wrapped you arms around him leaning on him, moving your hips fast trying to keep up, with him. your legs shook around him, he felt you tighten around him making him throw his head back, cursing deeply. 

he was hitting every spot, he filled you completely, you seeing his print from inside you. “you better not fucking cum “ he slapped your ass repeating his words moving fast. you tried to hold back but he was bringing you dangerously close to the edge. 

you almost came, almost releasing but he removed himself. getting frustrated groaning “ stop edging me, i don’t wanna wait “ you snapped half way moaning  out, which made him smirk, he stood up hold you with ease , pushing you on a near by wall. he pushed back in you deeply making you cry out, nearly cuming right there. 

he thrust into you, groaning into your ear. “ it’s like your sucking me in, fuck~ i missed this tight fucking pussy” he confessed feeling you tightened around him once again, you really really wanted to cum you whole body wanted it. “ you wanna cum so bad don’t you, you’ll have to give up on your little friend” dabi moved in harder deeper. you cried out. “yes okay okay i’ll forget about them just please~!” he grinned knowing you won’t go back after saying that.

“ cum, on me -” you didn’t waste a single second to release gripping him and moaning into his body. your dripped on the floor, he brought you up off him, putting you on your knees, your small hand jerked him fast from base to tip, shortly being covered in his juices. 

all over your eye and some in your hair, he was breathing deeply, taking a second to ride his high out. he looked down at you. covered in his cum. “ a pretty picture “ he smirked “ now lets start the second round”...

••••••••••••••••••••••

thank you for reading please like share and follow ! stay safe.

[pffbts]

I do not want to bother you, but you said you have no request for jin, which breaks my jin heart so hear you are (if you want to do it): Looking for a new appartment with him ❤️

―GENRE: fluff ; comfort; angst (if you squint)

―CHARACTERS:  childhood friend!kim seokjin x female!reader | no supporting character.

―W.C: 3.2K

―AUTHOR`S NOTE: extremely sorry if this is too late but i absolutely loved this request. it feels domestic & i`ve a weakness for domestic jin plus his natural hair coloured mullet. i hope you like this, bub <3 love u & thank u for requesting such a lovely request <3

[02:28 PM] [warmth will come when you never expect it]

―you felt the coolness spreading through your right cheek and along with it the few cold icy water droplets falling one by one on your denim jacket. you opened your eyes slowly against the hot wind that was flowing through the open bus today. as you turn your head to your right, the cup of cool coke brushes against your face, the straw obscuring a bit of your sight, and the cold surface freezing up your lips.

you find your best friend, jin turning his head at the same time to look at you.

“you looked like you were in discomfort so i was trying to cool down your skin.” he said, looking a bit concerned as your eyes remained kind of droopy.

“why do you look so good even in this weather?” you asked listlessly.

“maybe because you put down my offer to sit at the window seat?” he said back, sounding so obvious.

meanwhile, jin has put down the cup of coke and pushed the cold drink into your hand. “drink it, it will help you a bit.”

“it`s too hot, i shouldn`t have worn this jacket.”

“you could`ve worn that cami you brought last weekend.” jin, tried describing the sleeves of the dress by putting both of his hand over his shoulders, “you know the one with the thin strings?”

“ah it wouldn`t be a proper dress to wear for apartment hunting, you know?”

“why? i`m sure you looked good in it.”

“that`s too much skin. plus the dress is of thin material. we`ll be meeting random people today and i don`t want anyone to give me looks. i already get enough because of your handsome face,” you took one glance at jin who was looking at your hands holding the cold plastic cup and eventually making it go warmer, a small smile climbing onto his mouth, “plus with that mullet, you look extra good. i swear i saw some girls going gaga over it while we were getting on the bus at the bus stop.”

jin put a stop to your rambling, understanding how the hot weather is getting on your skin. he took the drink from your grip and gently pushed the straw into your mouth. “this is getting warm, drink up.”

you mumbled back an incoherent speech which wasn`t clearly understandable to jin but it was none of his concern right now. he was already getting up from his seat to look out from the window to see if you guys are at your destination already or not.

you thought he was probably getting up because you were at the destination already and so you reached your right arm towards him and held the end of his flannel (tmi: it was deep blue with think green stripes as checkered print) while still holding the cup in one hand, the straw in your mouth all along.

jin looks back, shaking his head silently letting you know that he`s not getting up to leave but just to check if you guys are at the destination yet or not. he took his hand off of the metal rod for support and extended his arm behind and held your right-hand wrist―a small sign of reassurance and warmth, you understood.

in a few seconds, he dipped his head down to see that the shop the landlord said about is right on the other side of the street. thankfully there was a bus stop on this side of the street so the bus stopped & jin pulled you by arms to get up. you moved quickly and followed him down the bus.

the coke which is half-finished now is now being pushed towards jin, who looks down at you, confused.

“drink it too. i would feel bad if you don`t have a sip.”

“just a sip?”

“okay maybe a little bit more than that.” you gave in.

“okay but hold it for me a bit, we`ve to cross the street now,” he points at the shop on the opposite side of the street which the landlord talked about, “that`s where mr. lee will meet us, i think.” you nodded and wrapped your left arm around his right one while crossing the street.

the street was kind of busy today and maybe that`s why jin was kinda concerned with you even though he knows you`re accustomed to the city by now.

when you finally crossed the street and stood in front of the shop, you let go of his arm. jin, as decided beforehand, takes the coke from your hand and sips in some of the now lesser cold drink. you felt kinda bad because initially, he bought it for himself, he couldn`t drink it much.

“i`ll buy you one tomorrow when we go back from uni,” you told him. jin closed his eyes for a second and shook his head, pulling the straw out of his mouth, “it`s okay, eventually, you needed this more than me, so it`s absolutely okay.”

you could only smile at your best friend.

when the landlord eventually came, jin decided to interrogate on behalf of both of you. strangely the first question the landlord had for you guys was, “are you guys a couple? engaged?”

you both looked at each other perplexed because all your school days and now college days, you guys have always heard people saying the same thing. do you guys really look like you could pass as couples? even at the extent of an engaged couple?

during school days, your classmates would never approach jin even though he was technically the most sort after guy in the whole grade. for some weird reason, they thought jin would never look at any other girl than you―be it asking for a spare pen from the distance of five desks or being the first option for a group project. it has always been you and jin. even at college, though jin took acting major & you took physics as your major because both of you arrived and left college at the same time and with each other, even the campus people knew you both came in two in one package. one wouldn`t leave the campus without each other.

strangely, there hasn`t been any sort of romantic action in-between the two of you. both of you have been quite chill with each other. both of your mothers have been friends since your and jin`s elementary days so get together for dinners and lunch has always been quite common. though it has definitely crossed your mind how your friend started looking more than just a friend. it eventually started since he started growing out his hair to the current mullet state. his tall stature, his beautiful face, his way of knowing every bit of household works while your lazy self just never left your room during exam seasons.

but the thoughts remained like flickering thoughts just passing by for some seconds when you look at him some days. it has never crossed your mind that you can possibly be romantically linked up with him. at this point, even with all this hand-holding and taking care of each other, showing concerns when one of you is in discomfort. for you two, this has always been like a natural thing in your relationship―like how humans react in the world where only you and jin exist.

actually, it was kind of good that people thought of you both as a perfect pair because jin has always been the perfect man for any human out there, especially for someone as studyholic or as allergic to household work as you.

“do we really look like that, sir?” jin asked now facing him.

the man shrugged his shoulders in reflex, “i don’t know even from far away i thought you two are some couple. actually, you both don`t even look like a new couple―”

jin put his palm up in front of the landlord and laughed, “sir stop right there, we`re simply very close-knitted friends. we`ve been best friends since our elementary days, i guess the closeness of ours rubbed in a wrong way for you.” jin bowed a bit.

you bowed too as in reflex to which the landlord kind of laughed, “okay yeah i understand. now let`s get with our business, okay?”

you both nodded as usual in unison. seriously, it`s like at this point you both aren’t even doing this on purpose, it`s like a simple reflex. it`s like you two are one body, one heart, one brain―but divide that brain into two halves in which one side is filled physics derivations while the other how an actor should act varying emotions bit by bit.

the landlord stared at you two for another second, let out a nice big laugh this time and started walking before you with his back facing you two.

“what do you think of this one? it has two spacious rooms enough for two young people, plus a small kitchen at a good spot.”

“the kitchen does look quite small but thankfully it`s not located at an uncomfortable place.” jin remarked this because the other two previously painfully close to one of the room & he knew that would be a problem if you stay in that room because there was a high chance if you both have chosen that apartment, you would`ve taken that room close by the kitchen with the biggest window. apparently, your love for windows is quite big and that`s not unknown to jin, at least.

“yes, i like it quite much. let`s see the rooms once again, can we?” jin asked. the landlord nodded and took both of you in again. both of you scanned the rooms again, this time quite carefully. after all, you both are going to stay here for two years until both of you graduate.

“i like this one,” you nudged jin with your elbow on your left, “what do you think?”

“i like it too. which room do you like though? that room has a good window i think?” he looked at you asking the most concerning question, “i think the window in this room is smaller than that one. you should definitely take that one.”

“yeah that looks cool, i guess.” you agreed with him giving him a satisfying nod.

as soon as he saw that you`ve agreed on with him, he turned away from you to confirm with the landlord that you guys will be taking this one for two years. the landlord said you both have to go with him to his office to sign the lease.

both of you agreed to go with him. it was a short walk from the current apartment and when you two finally signed the lease, paid the needed deposit to him in check and all, it was decided that by next week you guys will move in. the landlord marked his calendar and said he`ll look into it.

bidding goodbyes, both of you stepped out of the office and started walking to the bus stop at which you got down previously.

“our campus will be a little bit far from here. probably going to take half-an-hour but the locality is good. there`s a supermarket right across the street, plus a bus stop, what do you think?” jin asked, casually putting his left arm on your shoulder, eventually pulling you against him a bit.

you realized that the streets are getting busier and so when jin closed the distance between you two, it was from the thought that you might get separated from him in the increasing crowed.

“i like it. the distance won`t be a problem. our school was one hour from our neighbourhood, remember?”

“right. i think we`ll settle well here.”

you hummed back in agreement.

“by the way! why do people still think we look like a couple? even strangers we meet say the same thing?”

“i don`t know, maybe because we do look like one?”

“you should definitely get a girlfriend. people will start assuming weird things when we start living together.”

you felt jin stiffen a bit at the mention of getting a girlfriend. it`s been kind of an off-topic for you two but these days you`ve been dropping this topic left and right on him.

“it still won`t change the fact that we`ll still be living together.”

“but―”

“and what? even if i get a girlfriend like you said, she won`t live with us.” jin`s hand dropped around your waist, he held you this time quite protectively. his arms looked strong around your waist, you could feel his abs muscles moving against your right arm. “at the end and the beginning of each day from the next week, it`s going to be us only in that apartment.”

“you can bring your girlfriend over anytime you want. i won`t have any problem with that.”

“what if i don`t want to?”

you both have reached the bus stop, currently standing and waiting for the bus. you snapped your head up at his towering height. jin wasn`t looking at you this time.

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice held no assurance.

“i said i don`t want to get a girlfriend, forget bringing that said girlfriend into our apartment. it`s absolutely not needed,” jin now looked down at you who was about to say something, “and you must know at this point i don`t want anyone apart from you.”

“huh? jin?” your head now empty except for his last words.

i don`t want anyone apart from you.

what exactly did he mean by this sentence?

“i`m not getting a girlfriend. i don`t need anyone.”

“but you sound like you and me are..” you couldn`t finish the sentence because when you looked up jin this time, he was looking at you directly. his eyes were set on you and you only. there was no flickering in his eyes. they were intense yet warm. for the first time in your life, you couldn`t look him in the eyes.

this is strange. this is definitely strange you said to yourself.

“we`re what?” jin asked.

“i don’t know. you said to the landlord that we`re only best friend and that we`re this familiar with each other because we know each other for a long time but you`re talking like you were lying back there.”

“and what if i was?”

“jin!” you exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut in sudden embarrassment. what is this guy doing? you thought, he sounds so ridiculous now does he even has the slightest idea of it?

“the bus is here, we`re going. come on, hold my hands.”

“no i`m not holding your hands.”

“but you always love holding them.”

“who told you that?”

“i don`t know but i guess we`ve spent enough years together, facing a lot of things together and i think we`ve always held hands no matter what.”

“but it`s because you`ve always been with me through those days. i never meant to do it on purpose.”

because the bus has already reached the stop. you guys gave your conversation a small break to get into the bus. after securing a seat, as usual, jin giving you the window seat, you guys went back to the talk.

“you never meant to do anything on purpose. and that`s why it makes it more special. that`s why i`m not getting a girlfriend. if things go well, i want to have a future with you,  y/n.”

it isn`t a usual thing when jin starts calling you by your name and you know when he does say your name, it means, he`s extremely serious at that moment. but what made your head completely blank and your mouth drop was his wish to spend even the future with you.

“jin.” you completely turned your body to your left to face his side profile. when he noticed you have your undivided attention on him, he turned his face to his right giving back his own undivided attention on you.

“you must be kidding me. are you seriously confessing to me right now? you sound like you want to make me your wife or something after we`re graduate.”

“hey that actually sounds like a nice plan too.” he pulled his right hand out of his pocket and pointed at you.

you slapped his hand away laughing and rolling your eyes at the same time. “okay! i`ll see if your plan goes well.”

you turned around and put yourself in a relaxed way against the bus seat.

“oh by the way,  i will forget to say. i want chicken noodles tonight. will you cook tonight?”

“i`ll bring it to your dorm.” jin continued, “like i said, anything for you.”

according to the rule in your college, first years had to stay in the dorms so that`s why both you and jin weren`t living together for this one year.

maybe this one year made jin think of you in a way he has never had. when he saw you on the first day at the entrance of the campus, he knew something felt different. you both weren`t just childhood friends from that day. no next-door neighbours who could simply wave at each other from individual windows. no classmates just a few desks away in one room. no same dinner table at your mothers` meetups. the time spent apart this one year, the lack of interactions gave jin chances to yearn for your presence and he felt like a new person every time he finally saw you before college. probably that`s why he couldn`t resist from saying what kind of days he looks forward to with you.

you looked away from him and moved closer to the window so that you can feel the much cooler air and not just think how jin for the first time in your life brought in a heat across your neck you almost couldn`t recognize, something which only existed in the books you read before tonight.

fin.

[tsukikento]

Too Fast For Your Own Good Part 2

(part 1) (part 3)

Pairing: Takami Keigo (Hawks x Reader)

Words: 5115

Summary: Soulmate!AU - the first words your soulmate says to you is written on your body in ink.

Genre/Warnings: Some slight swear word usage. Fluff, angst if you squint.

A/N: I ended up writing too much again and decided to write a part 3, because I have a really good ending planned. Please let me know if you liked this! Also posted on my ao3 @ allie_win.

Time stopped.

Beautifully red wings were now still and gray. The delicate feathers that had fallen and were fluttering to the ground stopped and floated around Keigo as if encasing him, his own personal portrait border.

To you, it didn’t really matter that you stopped time, it’s not like you could breath after what he said.

Was this it? Was it really it? Or did you mishear him? Maybe you wouldn’t respond correctly and it would just be another false connection slipping through your fingertips.

“So apparently you’re faster than me?”

Anxiety flooded your skin and you pulled at your costume just enough to see the words printed in black lettering. You used a mirror to check, making sure they were the exact right words.

And they were.

You looked at Hawks, noting just how oblivious he was to what was about to happen. A small smile found their way onto your lips as you admired his sharp eyes, the eyeliner he used only adding to the intrigue his eyes carried with them.

You bit your lip and sat down on the recliner next to the couch. You observed him for as long as you could, taking in every possible detail. The way his neck curved softly and connected to his muscular back. The curves stop suddenly at the protrusion of his wings.

You wondered if his tattoo was in the same place. Between his wings.

How ironic.

A burning sensation filled your lungs and you attempted to hold back as long as you could, trying to figure out just the right words to say. You stood up and paced around the room, debating what was the perfect thing to say.

The first thing you thought of was “What?”

But it didn’t feel right. This was your possible soulmate. You wanted to come across as confident. You bit your lip and sat back in the recliner, not bothering to try and stand back in the same place as you were when you stopped time.

Remember, confidence. Don’t hesitate.

The world suddenly floods again with colors, something that did not faze you at this point, and you watch as Hawks processed you moving from one place to the next. He smiled at you and opened his mouth as if to speak.

You didn’t notice and breathed in before saying, “I know I am.”

“That’s a cool quirk.” Keigo smiled cheerily, speaking over you. “Oh shit, sorry for interrupting. What did you say?”

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You held the bridge of your nose between your thumb and pointer finger, processing what just happened. He didn’t hear your first words.

You breathed in once more and looked at Keigo straight in the eyes. “I said ‘I know I am.’”

You painfully watched Hawks slowly realize what had just happened. His relaxed face formed a shocked appearance. His mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape and his eyes widened in shock.

“You know you are,” He mumbled as he subconsciously flapped his wings and looked into the coffee table. His eyes were glazed over as if too much was going through his mind right now.

“Yeah,” You replied, eyes focus on the coffee table as well.

“Wow.”

Silence filled the room as you both tried to separately process what to do next. No one talks about how utterly awkward it is after you find your soulmate. You two barely even knew each other.

“So,” Hawks finally spoke up. He had a small smile on his face, still blown away that you, his goddamn soulmate, was sitting right in front of him. “Soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” You grinned back, noting how hard Keigo was trying to lighten the mood.

“Ca-”

The door clicked and a rather average looking man came in. He has a business suit on and a balding head of hair. He looked between the both of you and then mumbled in a voice that seemed almost disappointed. “Hawks, we need you for another interview.”

The number two hero looked at who you assumed to be his manager. He then looked at you, licked and bit his lips. It was an action you would never forget. 

“I’m so sorry,” He said, looking at you. “We will talk later, I promise.” He held your hands for a brief moment, his warmth flooding through your system, making you feel immediately better. Safer. “I’ll see you at the obstacle course,” He said once more as he followed the other man through the door and out of your life.

You leaned back in the chair and sighed. Your heart was fluttering at the memory of Keigo’s golden eyes piercing into your soul. For the next while, you were left with your own thoughts, which were simply reliving the least few minutes.

Maybe it was because of how caught up you were in the moment, but you felt crazy with how quickly you became infatuated with Hawks. You groaned and tried to focus more on the competition. Was Hawks even thinking about you the way you were thinking about him?

Eventually, your own manager entered the room and ushered you to get ready. You followed him through the stadium, weaving from side to side to avoid the mass amounts of people working.

Over the sound of hushed voices and rapid steps, a booming sound came over it all, “Hello! And welcome to the competition of the century!”

Ugh, hardly.

The voice was Amplifier, a hero you met in school. You knew she was trying to pump up the crowd, but it was just adding to the pressure. You didn’t even want to do this competition after finding out that your competitor was your soulmate.

Silently, you listened as your manager told you that you would be entering onto the stage by teleporting while Hawks would fly on.

“He’s gonna fly on, talk to the host and when the host says, ‘are you nervous for today?’ they want you to teleport to the stage and reply ‘not at all.’” Your manager explained.

You almost wanted to laugh, but stayed silent because Amplifier's voice was so loud that you knew it would fall of deaf ears.

You arrived behind the red curtain, just where you had been before when you first saw Hawks. Your manager stayed by your side as you waited and listened for your cue. It felt like time was going by slower than usual. You heard the crowd erupted in cheers and you knew Hawks must have flown onto stage.

You were so in your own head that you could barely process the words being said, only listening to the silky sounds of Hawks’ voice as he spoke.

“I’m incredibly excited for today, Telethon is a great person and I’m thrilled to compete against them,” Hawks spoke. 

You felt your heartbeat quicken just a bit faster, knowing that your soulmate was speaking well of you before even knowing you well. It made you anticipate learning more about the number 2 hero.

“But are you nervous for today?” Amplifier asked, giving you your cue.

Although you craved hearing Hawks talk just a bit more, you still stopped time once she was done speaking and began making your way to the stage. You stopped right next to Hawks, where your manager told you to stop. You had your own mic and would be able to talk easily.

Time began, color filled your world, and you looked at the camera designated for you, “Not at all.”

The crowd erupted again, almost as loud as they had for Hawks. You cheekily smiled at the crowd and waved. Although you wanted to pay attention to your fans, you couldn’t help but be a little too aware of the body heat coming off of Hawks.

His wings spread out, the left one practically encasing you in warm, soft feathers. No one seemed to notice except for you. It made your brain swirl with nervousness. He was teasing you and you knew it, especially because when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, he was smirking.

You looked back down, feeling your face heat up once again. You had no clue how he was making you so anxious and shy, normally you were more confident in yourself.

You tried your best to focus on the interview, answering all the questions as best you could. Eventually, Amplifier told everyone to tune in in just half an hour to see the competition.

“Goodbye, Hawks and Telethon! We will see you soon!” Amplifier said, cueing you both to exit the stage once more using your quirks.

As Hawks waved goodbye and pushed himself into the air, you paused time and practically ran off stage. According to the schedule you were emailed, you had 10 minutes before you needed to make your way to the obstacle course. You rushed away, determined to grab some water and help yourself calm down beforehand.

You arrived at the green room and grabbed a cup of water before starting time again. You took in a deep breath, filling your empty lungs with fresh air once more, before gulping down your glass of water. You sat on the comfy chair and focused on your breathing.

Eventually, the door clicked and Hawks walked in. When he saw you, his eyes widened slightly before he smiled. If you were paying much attention, you might have even thought the look he gave you was one of pure admiration and love.

“Dang, you sure are fast,” Hawks said as he too grabbed himself a glass of water. “I’ll have to amp up my game for the obstacle course.”

You chuckled. A kind of chuckle that sent shivers down someone’s spine, and made the air bright, clear and filled with an almost floral smell. No matter how nervous you were that your soulmate was right in front of you, you could enjoy a good joke.

It was obvious that neither of you cared too much about the competition. Or at least you hoped.

Hawks then sat down on the couch next to you, leaning back, breathing in, and then taking a sip of the shockingly ice cold water. “Listen,” He spoke, breaking the silence that had formed around you both. “I’m sorry about being such an ass.”

You looked at him quizzically, silently asking for him to further elaborate.

“The comment I made to the paparazzi. I was so riled up,” Takami swept one of his gloved hands through his golden hair before taking off his yellow-tinted glasses and looking at you. A cold shiver ran up your spine. “I just hate paparazzi,” He sighed, “and people doubting me. I know it must have been scary to see such a popular hero bashing on you, and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It felt nice. It felt so nice having him acknowledge you like that.

It made your shoulders less tense and you really started to think about how grateful you were to be bonded together with a man so confident that he could also take a step back and think about how his actions impact those around him.

You looked into the clear water on your glass, admiring the smooth ice cubes, before looking back up at Hawks with a smile. “Thank you,” You spoke, your voice sounding like pure honey to his ears. He could have melted right then and there. “It’s very nice of you to say that and I hope the competition today isn’t too stressful.”

Hawks smiled back, his own bright teeth shining like the sun. “We will just have to do our best,” He paused for a moment, “But I’m sure I’ll win,” He joked.

Your laughter filled the room, warming Hawks’ body once more. You were tempted to tell him the truth about your quirk, but decided to wait until the right moment.

Soulmates.

It felt all so right now.

Your conversation continued and you both eventually made your way together towards the course. When you arrived, you each separated to go talk to your respective manager.

Amplifier was once again pumping up the crowd, introducing each of you as you walked onto the stage.

The obstacle course was then explained as being a total of 3 miles long, each mile providing a ew surprise. There were a total of 6 checkpoints where we had to grab our respective flags, Hawks’ being yellow and your being green. You and Hawks walked toward the start, noticing the plethora of positioned cameras to catch every second.

Not like that even matters with your quirk.

You wondered why they decided to do an obstacle course instead of simulating a crisis where you and Hawks could show off your rescue skills. It would make sense considering you were both primarily concerned with using your quirks for rescue missions. As you looked at all the cameras once more, you realized it probably wouldn’t be fun to simulate a crisis, especially after the earthquake villain incident.

You shook your head and focused back in on the course.

An air horn sounded and Hawks was off. You paused time and admired your now still soulmate, he had a confident smirk on his face.

You didn’t waste much time and rushed forward to the first obstacle, multiple walls, each different sizes, each with different negatives.

You rolled your eyes, already noticing how this course was much better for Hawks. It was a shame you couldn’t teleport around all these walls like the world thought you could.

Slowly, you made your way over and around the walls, watching out for spikes and slippery spots. It was a shame everyone would think you simply teleported through these obstacles when you actually had to do much more work to get by. 

Once again, you felt a pang in your heart because of how misunderstood your quirk was. Sure, you could explain it, but would people listen? They never did in the past. 

Eventually, you grabbed your first green flag, it was placed on top of the tallest wall. You started time again for only a second to take a breath before stopping it again and continuing on.

For just a mere millisecond, the crowd saw you on the cameras, only a moment after the competition began. In that time, Hawks had only arrived at the first wall, and saw you much farther ahead of him already grabbing the first flag.

You kept on running through your own personal gray world. Just because time was stopped didn’t mean you couldn’t still experience pain, and so you made sure to be extra careful while passing over each wall.

At the end of the mile was the second checkpoint. You grabbed it and continued to run, taking this time to take in a few breaths. In that time, Hawks was able to arrive at the first checkpoint.

The path suddenly turned to dirt and you saw multiple sensors along the walls as well as the cameras. They were placed high and low so that even Hawks would set them off. Tentatively, you began crossing.

Each sensor connected to another, creating strings of red lights. You avoided them as you crossed, curious as to what would happen when you set them off. On the ground was a rock, which you picked up and tossed. 

Nothing happened.

You furrowed your eyebrows in curiosity.

You started time, planning to grab another rock and throw it.

Before you had a chance, the multiple multiple sensors the previous rock hit went off. As a result, a total of four mechanical arms reached out of nowhere. They grasped at the air and began shaking violently before letting go of their grip and retracting.

You stopped time.

A watch was built into your hero costume to help you keep track of how long time was stopped for. With that watch you noted that the process took a total of 5 seconds. You knew doing that gave Hawks more time to catch up, but it also showed you that these censors could not affect you when time was stopped like fire or spikes could. This meant that you could just run right through. 

On top of that, the censor would end up going off once you turned time back on, which could be a horrible surprise for Hawks.

You sprinted through this mile, stopping only to grab the two checkpoint flags and starting time to take a few breaths. At the fourth checkpoint, you took a moment to look back and noticed Hawks was just now entering the second mile.

His gray, unmoving face was quizzical. He had noticed the censors and seen a few in action as a result of your movement. You hoped that maybe he was going too fast to process the mechanical arms and would get caught in one.

You looked ahead of you once more and entered into the final mile.

You stopped as you came to a cliff, you practically slid off because you were too busy looking at Hawks. The impulse to catch your breath was high, but you refused. You did not have the advantage here.

You looked over the vast, empty terrain. There were a few spots throughout the drop where people could stand, one of them holding the fifth flag. You would have to be incredibly careful with crossing.

You were sure that when this course was made, the creators thought you would easily be able to teleport through these rocks, making their purpose obsolete. It wouldn’t make for a fun show, but you figured the creators were probably tired.

Suddenly, you really regretted not working on increasing your jump distance over the past couple days.

You looked back at Hawks again and then back at the cliff. You gulped down the lump forming in your throat and took a few steps back to get a running start.

Although fearful, you still made it. And so, the processes of carefully jumping from perch to perch began. Unfortunately, the stress and a physical draining this activity caused made you need to start time more frequently.

You jumped up from a rock, started time, took a breath, stopped time, and landed safely. The fifth green flag was now in your grasp, All that was left was to make it the rest of the way and grab your final flag, signaling the end of the competition.

You took another jump, once again using your air time as a chance to take in a breath. Although you knew you must have looked ridiculous to the people watching you, your hot lungs were craving cool air and you were not going to deny them when you could easily fall more than fifty feet.

As you landed, just before you stopped time, you felt a large gust of wind. It took you a moment to register, but once you did, you immediately got to the ground, afraid the wind would blow you off. You looked up, wondering if you tripped a censor that you hadn’t seen. However, when you looked ahead of you, you saw Hawks' still body.

He had just flown past you and grabbed the fifth flag. You scolded yourself for not paying enough attention to the blond. Without wasting much time, you began jumping from perch to perch, no longer starting time.

If you were correct, Hawks was only 10 feet away from swooping in and grabbing the last flag. You could not risk starting time anymore to take a breath.

As you reached the last perch, it hit you.

Even if you could win, even if it would help your career, was it worth it?

Hawks was obviously proud of his speed.

You bit your lip and looked back at the hero.

His head was stopped, but you could see he was turning away from looking at where you were before, a wide grin plastered on his face. You were sure it was because he was finally ahead of you, satisfied that he surpassed you. His gray wings were contracting, as if about to give him another push for speed.

This gorgeous man was your soulmate. Even in the gray world you currently lived in, Hawks was immaculate in your eyes. His flowing hair seemed as if it was almost still moving and the bright shine in his mischievous eyes were prevalent.

You did not need to win to feel happy, you were happy knowing that Hawks’ was happy. He obviously wanted this win more than you, no matter how much he brushed it off.

You jumped to land onto the solid ground, you were only a few feet away from the flags. You moved to try and get the best view of him winning.

You started time, his wings were once again vermilion and a blur of yellow and red flew passed you to grab the final flag.

The crowd erupted, Hawks grinned at you, and Amplifier immediately came over to get his winning statement,

~~

You and Hawks both gave great answers to Amplifier’s questions before you were ushered off to get changed.

“Meet me before you go,” Hawks whispered before he forked off to go meet his manager.

You nodded and went off to meet your own manager, who whisked you away into the changing room. Luckily, a couple people were there to help you get out of your sticky-with-sweat costume and get you showered.

You still had one last camera appearance, so the team worked to style your hair and do your makeup for the cameras. You were now dressed in a flowing dress shirt and pants that matched well with the cool summer night. You noted how much the weather had lightened up from the rain in the morning.

Once pampered and dressed, you thanked the team for all their great work, and made your way out onto the stage. You, the loser, were going to give your speech before Takami. No one else was going to be on stage, just you and a microphone.

Your speech was short and sweet.

You thanked everyone for their support and told your fans that you would continue to try your best before congratulating Hawks.

“Now, I hear we have a few contestant winners who get to ask a question,” You began, looking around the massive crowd, “So, please, go ahead.” You ushered to a young boy in the audience who was given a microphone.

“Um, yeah,” He began, “So you kept popping back into view so often during the last mile and I was wondering why you didn’t just teleport across? Were you too tired to travel long distances?”

You looked at the boy, then the whole crowd as they awaited your answer.

He gave you an out. You could easily just say that you were tired, brushing off his question. Something in you pulled at your gut, a nervous feeling spreading from its pit to affect your whole body. You suddenly wanted to vomit.

It was as if your own gut was telling you not to lie.

A rather sheepish chuckle came out of your mouth and you sat down on the stool they provided you. “Well,” You started, “About that.”

Everyone looked at you with such tentative eyes. They were hanging on your every word, wondering what you were about to reveal.

“My quirk isn’t exactly teleporting,” You used your free hand to scratch the back of your head, careful not to mess up the hairstyle you were given for this appearance. You suddenly felt happy knowing that the shirt you were wearing was dark enough to hide your sweat. “It’s more like stopping time.”

You heard the crowd begin to mumble, not completely able to pick up on any specific words. Everyone turned their heads to each other to debate what you had just said.

“Please,” You asked,” Allow me to explain more.” You stood up from the stool and walked closer to the people around you, a kindred smile finding its way onto your lips. 

This was a rather delicate situation, and you needed to choose your words carefully. There was no way you could get out of this awkward time without any new haters, but you could try your best to keep your greatest fans by your side.

You looked at the people around you before speaking once more, “I can stop time, but to you it looks like teleporting. If I can speak honestly with you all, throughout my training at U.A., the school misunderstood my quirk and I was too nervous to correct them.”

You laughed at yourself and you heard a few people in the crowd join in. It made your twisting insides calm down just a little. Slowly, the hole you dug yourself was being filled, you on the outside of it.

“I used it as an opportunity to surprise people during battles, but seeing as I am a rescue hero,” You looked at the little boy who was staring at you, “I don’t need to surprise people. I need to calm them down. I need to let you all know that I will save you, stop time for however long necessary to save you from whatever is hurting you.”

You nervously stood center stage, waiting for their response. Slowly, a few people clapped, and some more die hard fans outwardly cheered for you. You graciously accepted the kindness with a smile and a quiet “Thank you.” Once it died down, you answered a few more questions until you were signalled that time was up.

“Well,” You started, “I would love to talk to you all forever, but time is up for me.” You smiled and shrugged your shoulders. “However, please welcome the winner of today, although I don’t think anyone was surprised such a strong hero would win, Hawks!”

You drowned out the sound of the cheering crowd and instead watched as Hawks walked in from off stage. He was still wearing his hero costume, which didn’t surprise you. The number 2 hero was almost always wearing the warm outfit, making sure he was always able to fly safely.

You smiled brightly at the handsome man in front of you and watched nervously as he looked your outfit up and down. He went to grab the mic and pulled you into a hug, placing his lips by your ear so the audience couldn’t see.

“You look nice, meet me in the green room,” He mumbled, his whispers sending shivers down your spine, before gingerly taking the mic from you. 

The hand he had placed on the small of your back massaged at your sore muscles, a silent way of attempting to calm you down. Being a hero could be nerve-wracking, but you did not expect the number 2 hero, Mr. Popular, to be so kind. He made sure to brush his warm fingers against yours, winking at you as his warmth spread throughout your body.

You rushed off the stage before anyone would notice the redness spreading from your neck to your cheeks. You met up with your manager as you walked to your changing room to grab your bag.

Your manager, who also didn’t know about your secret, was livid.

“How could you not tell me?” They questioned as you reached for the large bag holding your personal belongings. Your hero costume was hanging up on the coat rack.

“I know,” You whined and pouted, “I’m sorry.” You felt the weight on your shoulder lighten a little from confessing your lie and apologizing.

Your manager groaned and held the bridge of his nose before speaking, “I’m here for you, ya know? You could have told me.”

“I know,” You repeat yourself, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” They replied. “There’s just going to be a lot of P.R. work. Might have to officially bring in a representative from the agency.”

You smiled at your manager’s quick recovery. “Thank you,” You said. “I promise I will do anything necessary. I trust you”

“You better,” They jokingly replied. “Anyways,” Your manager pulled out his phone and began looking through notifications as he spoke, “I have to go home, make sure my kids are in bed.” He looked back up at you. “I will see you at the agency tomorrow, 3 pm. We must talk about all of this.”

You nodded and saluted your manager who proceeded to jokingly push you. You easily maintained your balance, even with your hands full, and laughed. Your manager said his goodbyes and you slowly made your way to the green room, your mind now able to wander to what Hawks would want.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you sat down on the chair and scrolled through your phone at all the new notifications you were getting.

Eventually, the door swung open and you looked up to see Hawks’ smiling face. Although filled with nerves, you couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through you at seeing his shining face. No one ever described their experience like this, and you were sure yours would be a fun one to tell.

It felt weird trying to let yourself rest into and be comforted by a stranger, even though the universe was telling you that you were forever destined. Regardless, you still allowed Hawks to gingerly sit next to you and take your hand in his.

“Crazy day,” He breathlessly spoke, as if he had run from off the stage directly to you.

You nodded, not feeling the need to verbally respond.

“How are you?” He asked before raising your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles one by one.

You thought over your response and focused on the tingling sensation his soft lips left upon your skin. “I’m good,” You paused, “Better than.”

“Me too,” He replied immediately, not needing you to even ask.

As silence filled the room, you allowed your brain to wander.

What next?

Would you go home, his number now in your phone?

Would you text him all night? Maybe even facetime?

Or would both of you be too nervous to initiate anything?

Your attention was brought back to the present by the sound of Hawks sighing, letting go of your hand, and leaning back to rest his head against the couch.

You looked at the gorgeous man with a quizzical face. Before you could ask, his head popped up straight and he looked at you.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, “I’m starving.” Keigo suddenly stood up and looked over at the food left. “Ugh,” He groaned, “This shit looks nasty.”

You watched as Hawks wandered around the room, contemplating what to say next.

He grinned at you, “Do you want to get some food? I’m craving Korean food.”

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - Dean Ending - 2

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: Serious injury, hospitalization, pain, violence, blood, angst (with a happy ending), serious injuries, heartbreak, gore (series levels blood, hurt and serious near-fatal injuries).

Choice: [You chose to rush Dean to the car]

Y/N = Your Name 

---

You had no time to waste. You had to get Dean to the nearest hospital.

“SAM! Bring the car around. Hurry!” Your voice nearly broke over the heart-breaking words as you forced them out. Letting the pain and panic force the younger hunter outside into action. Sam was your best friend, he’d understand. Just from the way your voice broke alone. 

Turning your attention back to Dean, your eyes met his slightly dull green ones. You had to get him up. Even if it hurt him, even if the pain would be damned near impossible to deal with. Outside and into the car you knew, with 100% certainty, that Sam was rushing to as your shaking hands moved from the wound at Dean’s side to help the hunter sit up. 

You were careful not to focus too closely on the harsh red that covered your hands and threatened to send you barrelling back into uncontrolled panic as you shifted by his side. There was just so much fucking blood. You didn’t have time to panic. You had to get him up. Had to get him help.

“I know it hurts Dean… But we have to get you up,” Your words were more a sobbed prayer to the hunter than an actual push to action, as he choked on a pained moan when you gently lifted him into a seated position. 

“(Y/N)…” Dean’s gasps for air cut off his words, barely getting your name out before his jaw clenched around another shot of pain.

“We need to get you help. You can do this,” You tried to keep your voice pliable. To soothe some of the hunter’s hurt with soft words as you scrambled to your feet and gently helped Dean up. One arm around his waist as the other put his shaking arm over your shoulders, holding onto his wrist. 

“Just a few steps… Please,”

You tried taking the first of several painfully slow steps towards the door, but as soon as he started moving, Dean’s legs buckled under him. Nearly taking you with him as you reached a bloodied hand out and steadied the two of you against the wall. Painting the faded paisley print a violent red. 

“We got this Dean… You got this,” You gritted your teeth as you half carried him towards the door. He’d be fine…. He was Dean freaking Winchester. You were there. He was a mess, but you’d get him patched up. You swore you would. 

“Don’t…. Cry (Y/N),” Dean could barely get the words out. Every sentence turned into a mix of mumbled comfort, curses, groans and raspy breaths. You hadn’t even noticed you were gasping for breath as the violent sobs wrecked your body, until your strong stubborn soldier pointed it out. You were too focused on the light of the door. Too busy listening for the roar of the Impala. 

Yet Dean had noticed. Dean always noticed. Always trying to catch every single one of your tears. Unwilling to share any of the hurt, any of the scars. Though that same sacrificial need to do good, to be the world’s battering ram, was currently slowly killing him. 

He shouldn’t be worrying about your tears. Tears would slow, they’d dry away leaving no traces of the painful verses they were inscribing on dusty cheeks. But Dean’s injury… God. You could feel the steady flow of life leaving him from where your arm rested around his waist, careful not to aggravate the gash in his side. 

“Shhh… Dean, save your strength. I’m fine… You’ll be fine,” Your words were more of a frantic plea as you finally got him into the light. Stumbling a bit under his weight now that you no longer had the wall to aid you. 

You squinted against the light as you gently helped Dean take the two steps down onto the gravel. Relieved to see the ebony car racing towards you with Sam behind the wheel. 

“Sammy’s here. Just… Stay strong for me soldier,”

—

“This is gonna hurt. I’m… Shit. I’m so sorry Dean, but this is gonna hurt like a son of a bitch,” You gritted your teeth as you shifted your hold on Dean. Your hand reached out as soon as the Impala came to a complete stop in front of you. Flinging the backdoor open and carefully manoeuvring Dean onto the leather seats of his Baby. 

“It’s…” Dean couldn’t get the words out as the pain shot through him. Leaving the man to bite his lip and squeeze his eyes shut. Swallowing down the groans of agony with a deep grunt as they lodged painfully in his chest. 

“You’re doing good… You’ll be fine. We got you,” 

Hurrying around the car, you slid into the Impala and gently lifted his head into your lap. Your eyes shooting to Sam as he’d turned himself fully in the driver seat. Shock, worry and anguish staining hazel eyes as his eyes followed the blood from your arms down to the jagged cut in his big brother’s side. 

“The Demon he… Dean got… We need to get him to the hospital Sammy,” It physically hurt you to force the younger Winchester into action. Knowing you were leaving him no time to process his brother’s injuries. But you were running out of time. Dean would be fine. He’d got you and Sam. You’d always have his back; you’d always pull him out of trouble. 

But right now, you needed to move. And move fast.

“Yeah…. Ok… Hold on Dean. Alright? Don’t you go leaving us now,” Sam’s voice was trembling and wet with unshed tears as he pushed the Impala back into drive. The engine roaring to life just as your free hand found the bag you’d dropped on the floor mere hours earlier. Rooting around in it as you kept your other hand pushing down on his side, you pulled out the shirt you’d stolen from Dean.

You needed to stem the blood flow. Buy him some time. And your small trembling hand just wasn’t fucking big enough. His life was already soaking into the leather seats as your weak attempt of putting pressure on the wound failed against the fucking final full stop that was threatening to steal him away from you. Folding the shirt over, you pushed it against the wound, gritting your teeth and squeezing your eyes shut as Dean hissed in pain from your lap. 

Your eyes left the awful reality of what the flannel was covering as you focused on his paling face again. Only to be met with closed eyes and shaky breaths. No. He couldn’t go to sleep. He had to fight this. He had to be your strong, always reliable Dean Winchester. At least until you could get him to town… Get him fixed up.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep on me, Dean. Keep those big greens on me ‘kay?” You could hear the rising panic in your faint voice over the roar of the engine as Sam drove like a bat out of hell. Taking every twist and turn on the small farm road dangerously fast in his rush to save his brother.

For a split second, it was like the whole damned world stopped existing. Your breath lodged somewhere just behind your breaking heart as you watched for a sign that he could hear you. But just as fast as your world had stopped turning, it came rushing back again at the flash of red rimmed green behind half closed eyelids. 

“Hey… (Y/N), just in case this is…” 

You shook your head violently, careful to keep the rest of your body still to not jostle him more than the bumpy farm road already was doing. Unwilling to listen to any one of his goodbyes, or apologies for checking out early. You would get him through this. You would save him. Even if you’d failed to have his back. Even if it’d cost you your damn soul down the line.

“Don’t you dare say one fucking word more Winchester. You’ll be fine, you have to be fine. Just focus on breathing and getting better for now. You can finish whatever bullshit you’re trying to spout once we’re back in the bunker with a beer in our hands,” 

“I…” A large bump in the road cut Dean’s second attempt at a preemptive goodbye off, turning the end of his sentence into a gasp of pain that died as a whine in his throat. 

“Please Dean… You can’t leave me. I won’t let you. Just… Shut up and focus on me. We’ll get through this. We’ve been through worse, right?” Focusing on putting pressure on the wound, you let your eyes lock with his. Counting the seconds and minutes whenever he as much as blinked as your hand switched between the flannel and wiping away the pained tears from his eyes. Your eyes barely even registered how the clear stretch of highway had replaced the small farm road as you kept your full attention on the man in front of you.

You’d make it… You had to. 

—

Dean’s breathing was weakening as the Impala tore into the Hospital grounds and came to a full stop right outside the doors to the ER.

He’d kept fighting, he’d been strong for you. Just as he always was. His green eyes were dull with pain and wet with unshed tears as they kept looking up at you. Pale lips moving, though no words came out, with unspoken truths and goodbyes you’d be damned sure to prove wrong. 

Sam had been out of the car before it even fully stopped. Rushing in to get help as you kept cradling Dean’s head in your lap. Pleading whispers soaking the air between you as you begged the soldier to keep fighting. 

You were so lost in him, in the need to keep him safe, that you nearly lashed out at the big hand that landed on your back. Stopping just short of hitting Sam as he gently pulled you out of the car and out of the way of the men and women that were going to save Dean’s life. They had to save him. 

“Please… He has to be fine. I swear to God if you don’t…” You knew you were screaming at the wrong people. These doctors and nurses were not the villains. But your anger and pain had nowhere else to go. You needed someone else to take responsibility, now that the actual culprit was just a pile of flesh and bones, left behind in the nightmarish farmhouse. 

Sam pulled you against him, burying your face into his chest and muffling your empty threats to keep you from actually shaking the doctor that was currently trying to save the man you loved. You’d pushed down your panic and anguish to help Dean. But now that you could fully let yourself feel it; the pain was unbearable. You wanted to scream, to punch something, break something, to hurt someone as much as you were hurting. But instead you just sobbed, holding onto your best friend as he pulled you along into the hospital after the rushing nurses and doctors trying to save Dean’s life. 

Your feet followed Dean’s still and pale body through the doors of the hospital. Your broken, greedy little heart, too pained and still too horribly selfish to let him out of your sight as you broke free from Sam’s arm the moment the big guy stopped to sign Dean in. Desperate to follow Dean all the way to the damned operating room. To have his back, to watch over him as the doctors did all they could to save him where you couldn’t.

Yet, as you reached the first door, a kind, but stern nurse stepped in front of you. Hand out, flat palm facing you as she told you to stop. To wait. The same way Dean had told you to wait for his signal just hours earlier. 

“I can’t… I need to be there with him,” You could hear your own words echo back at you. All feral anger and red-hot desperation. 

Still, even as the hard anger made the nurse flinch and step back, you stood frozen as your heart followed Dean through the door, clinging to his cold limp fingers. Unable to move from the spot and show the same blatant disregard for orders that you’d shown only hours earlier as your legs buckled under you. Hitting the ground just a second before Sam could make it to your side. Leaving you kneeling on the cold, hard floor, as if you were praying to the nurse. To anyone. 

A whispered plea in the sterilised hallway of the hospital. To do what you’d been unable to.

“Please… Save him,” 

—

It felt as if an eternity had passed before the door opened and a tired doctor stepped through it and over to where Sam was letting you lean against his big shoulder. Every second another lifetime as you relived the panicked moments of getting Dean to the hospital. Seeing the life slip out of him, his paling features and dull green eyes in your violently coloured trembling palms. An endless reel of agony; projected in angry shades of red on your skin.

Yet, as the doctor stopped in front of you, you felt as if time couldn’t go slow enough. Terrified that his next words would tear at the rest of your sanity. They had to save Dean. He couldn’t be lost to you. Lying still and cold somewhere on a hospital bed. You wouldn’t be able to go on if he was gone.

Sam’s arm had tightened around your shoulder. The big guy, your best friend, taking the lead as you just watched your still bloodied hands numbly. Unable to look up to determine if there was defeat or promises hiding in the elderly doctor’s eyes. 

“Is he…”

“Yes, your brother will make a full recovery,” 

As the doctor’s voice reached you, you finally managed to look up. Finding nothing but kind truth in the man’s eyes as he looked down at you. Around you, the sounds of the hospital came into focus again, colours blending with light as you watched the doctor spout a lot of big words you couldn’t be bothered to try and understand.

Dean was fine.  

As the doctor talked to Sam you just watched him. Feeling the soft heat of relieved tears against your skin as you waited. Waited for the only words that mattered now that your heart had started beating again somewhere down the labyrinthian hallways of the hospital. 

Licking at chapped lips, you found your voice somewhere among the red raw pain in your throat as you decided to hurry things along. No longer willing to deal with the sedated seconds. Needing to re-join your heart. Needing to be right by Dean’s side, where you belonged. Watching his back as you waited for him to wake up again.

“Can I… Can we see him?”

—

You’d been by Dean’s side for the last few hours. Though your tired soldier was taking his time waking up as you held his hand. But the doctors had promised you he was fine. And you had to believe them. Sam had cleaned himself up in the bathroom, and had forced you to do the same after you’d nearly scared one of the nurses to death with your bloodied appearance. The harsh red coupled with your pale face had left the poor woman thinking she’d walked straight into a ghost.

But past those painfully long minutes, you hadn’t left his side. Your forehead leaning against his fingers and whispering soft prayers into still fingertips, as if you could will them to move with your lips alone. Sam had left a few times, to deal with the reality of the hospital stay. Making up stories and choosing identities to keep the cops at bay where you were too lost in Dean to act or discern reality from daydreams and weak hopes.

Hell, it’d only been a few hours. But you’d already imagined Dean’s hand squeezing yours back more times than you cared to count. Your tired mind playing constant tricks on you. Like sensory daydreams, feeding on your need for him to wake up.

So, when the next squeeze came, you looked up at Sam instead of Dean. Afraid that if you let yourself look at the sleeping hunter, if you let yourself hope he was waking up, you’d just be dragged back into reality by lidded eyes. Yet, as Sam’s tired eyes brightened in a soft smile, you finally let yourself breathe a sigh in relief. He was awake.

Your Dean Winchester was finally back with you.

“Heeeey… (Y/N),” Dean’s voice was a mumbled slur as your eyes turned to meet his hazy unfocused ones. His hand gave yours another weak squeeze as his small half-smile brought colour back into your world.

“Hi there cowboy,” You gave him a small shaky smile back as your words ended in a breathless, relieved laugh. 

“I’m feelin’ all fuzzy. Like all the corners are soft,” Den mumbled, his words coming out slow as he lifted his hand, still holding onto yours. As if the connected hands somehow helped prove his point. The hunter was clearly still high on whatever pain meds they’d pumped him full of during the emergency surgery. Though the doctor had told you it should wear off in a few minutes after he woke up.

“You’re on the good stuff Winchester,” You chuckled, glancing up at Sam to share a short teary laugh at the oldest Winchester brother’s behalf. Relief flooded the air in the room and made it sweeter as you finally managed to breathe properly again. Across from you, your best friend jumped to his feet to find the doctors, leaving you with a slightly high Dean. Sam’s soft smile mirroring your own. You had your soldier back, and he’d be fine.

“Awesome… This is really good stuff. You look so… Bright ‘n pretty,” The soft mumbles that left the hunter chased away the last remnants of pain and shadows as you squeezed his hand and smiled back at his beaming grin. Soothing your heart and soul the way only he could. 

“And… Where am I?” Dean’s words were slowly becoming less slurred as the words left him. The hunter cutting off his own rant about softness as the rest of the world came back into focus around him, sharpening the earlier soft roundness into the cutting edges of reality. The few minutes of soft, hazy bliss were up, leaving the hunter confused, yet still slightly bleary-eyed.

As the worst of his hazy medicated bliss faded, blurry green eyes finally properly focused on you. Any signs of the faded dull light from the rushed race against time in the Impala fully lost to the bright forest in his eyes. Like the last of the early morning dew lifting to make way for another beautifully bright day. 

“You’re in the hospital Dean. You were hurt… Bad. But you’re fine now,” You could hear your own voice break over the words as they brought back pained memories of the close call. Squeezing his hand again you let your free hand brush against his matted sand blonde strands, moving them out of his eyes as his eyes left the room to look back at you. 

“Yeah I… Whoa, whoa! Please don’t cry (Y/N),” 

You hadn’t even noticed the relieved tears streaming down your cheeks until Dean’s hand disentangled itself from yours to wipe at one of your many tears. His green eyes worried as fingertips carefully collected every relieved tear. Not even letting them soak into your skin before he stole the burden of worry from you, to once more place the weight of every single salted drop of anguish on his own shoulders.

“What were you thinking? You could’ve died,” Pulling your head away from his hand you let your tears run freely. The touch of his fingertips, and the familiar worried tinge to his voice, bringing back your earlier desperate anguish in the shape of angry protective worry. 

Curling your hands into the bedsheets, you managed to keep the worst of it under control. Careful to not raise your voice in fear of getting kicked out of the hospital room if you did. You couldn’t bear to leave Dean’s side. Not now. Not when you’d finally gotten him back. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but when I saw that son of a bitch rush at you… When I thought of you getting hurt, my body just reacted,” Dean’s hand fell limply to his side, eyes shining in pain at your rejection of his touch. It stung, to see him saddened and hurting. But your worry outweighed it. By a damned metric fuckton. 

“I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you,” He added weakly as he watched you angrily wipe away your tears. Your shoulders shaking as you tried to hold back every worried word you wanted to yell at the stupid self-sacrificing soldier in the hospital bed. Damn it, you loved him, but he could be such a stubborn fool. 

“You don’t always have to be a damned shield Dean!” Catching your raised volume, you clenched your jaw to stop from shouting. Aware of the possible eyes on you from the hospital hallway.

“I don’t want to lose you either. I wouldn’t have been able to go on if…” Shivering, you stopped yourself before your own words had the chance to wind you. Knowing that any mentions of him hurt, dying, would just bring back fresh stabs of pain. Even though you knew he was fine. That you could reach out and touch him. 

It was all just too fresh in your mind… Time still had to dull the colours and soften the edges before you could deal with the new scars the close call had carved into your heart.

“Neither would I (Y/N)… I need you to be alive ok? Damn it… You’re one of the last good things in my world,” His low voice shook, barely contained hurt, worry and anger mixing as he watched you. Rough and raw as it broke over the many imagined futures playing out behind green eyes.

“If you died then there’d be no more Dean Winchester. They might as well just toss me on the pyre with you,”

As Dean lifted a hesitant hand again, you stayed still. Not pushing away the soft fingertips that gently traced the shape of your jaw as the hunter whispered the words into the cool air between you. The gentle way he touched you yet another testament to how carefully he treated you. As if you were fractured glass. So utterly breakable that even his fingers could see you shattering into a million little pieces across the hospital floor. 

“You can’t…” Your voice was weak, barely even there, as you let the desperately pained pleading in your eyes convey your words instead. Words you couldn’t make yourself speak, in fear of it being some type of fucking spell that would violently pull Dean away from you. Just out of the reach of your trembling fingers.

Instead you just focused on his fingertips. Your skin buzzing under his touch as soft fingers moved from tracing your jaw to slide down your throat following your collarbone to your shoulder and finally ending as a warm comforting pressure against the back of your neck. His palm gently pushed you closer to him, eyes still locked with yours, as the many words left unspoken echoed in your head. 

You can’t die. Or get hurt. You can’t leave me. Please don’t…

Raising his head up to meet you halfway, Dean gently pulled you closer. Green eyes finding yours just before slowly closing just as his soft lips against yours cut off the endless string of pleas in your mind. Stopping the echoes of pain in your head with an achingly gentle kiss against your trembling lips. Dean barely even brushed against them, before he leaned back to look at you. Hesitant, timid green eyes watching at you, gauging your reaction.

“As I was trying to tell you in the car before you shut me up… I love you (Y/N). I need you to be safe. So, if I have to act like a shield, or distraction, or damned demonic punching bag, I will. Because if they hurt you or worse then, hell… I’m a goner,” 

Looking from the hunter’s green eyes and down to his lips you held yourself back from just kissing him, drowning in him. You’d been so close to losing him without being able to tell him how you felt. Never again. Screw all the promises you’d made to yourself, the endless nights spent painting your bedroom in unshared words of love. You had to let him know. Not just with your lips on his, but with words as well as actions. 

“If you don’t want me to be hurt. Then promise me you won’t do anything like that ever again. ‘Cause I need you Dean. I love you, and I need you here. With me,” 

Letting your forehead touch his, you kept your voice low and soft as you spoke words you’d once upon a time promised yourself you’d never speak. Your lips nearly brushed against his as you returned the tireless soldier’s confession with your own.

“Really?”

As Dean’s eyes widened in awed wonder, you noticed the little specks of gold in them for the first time from your closer, more intimate, vantage point. As if he’s captured rays of sunshine in his eyes. And for a moment, just the briefest beautiful second, those previously unknown shades took your breath away.

“Yes, you stupid, stubborn man. Really,” You chuckled once you finally found your voice again. Still marvelling in your newest discovery, another thing to add to the list of things you loved about him. A list that was sure to keep growing now that you’d made him aware of the heart you’d slipped into his hand oh so long ago, and he’d given you his own in return.

“Next time let me help you. Let’s work together. Not just shield each other. Deal?” You added, holding yourself back from finally fully feeling his lips on yours, like you’d dreamed about more times that you’d care to share.

“Deal,” Dean, your Dean, echoed, before using the hand that still rested against your neck to angle you into a kiss tasting faintly of golden drops of sunshine to seal his promise with an achingly gentle softness.

Dean Winchester was a lot of things. He was a soldier, a man, a brother, a friend, and a loving, kind man. And though you knew it wouldn’t be easy to turn him away from his overprotective need to shield you, you were determined to stand by his side. To see him through it all.

Shoulder by shoulder. Forever. 

 ---

You reached the end - You got Ending 2: Dean: Sweet Deals & Confessions - Happy Ending

[Click here to return to the start and try again]

[Alternatively, click here for the full masterlist breaking down each path] Note that choices are named so it may spoil the experience.

---

Please tell me which ending you got in a message, comment, ask or through a reblog. This took a lot of time to make, and I want to hear from you guys, and see if you enjoyed it. That way I’ll know if I should make more as well as know which parts you enjoyed/where I can improve them. 

I already have some ideas for some other ones; an undercover office based one that’s fluff vs. smut… Plus another hunt based one with TFW. But I won’t start them if it doesn’t seem like there’s any demand for them.

You can also tell me which ending you got by clicking here to answer my poll.

---

[mistymark]

the one where you’re someone else. [jaemin] [part I]

na jaemin x reader // 2.9k words // high school!au // body switch!au

summary; in which you wake up in someone else’s body. more than once.

warnings: swearing, confusion, mention of male genitalia

requested; nope

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Groaning, you roll onto your side, searching blindly for the snooze button on your alarm, your head remaining on the pillow. Five more minutes. Please.

...

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. This time you squint your eyes open, sitting up in bed and rubbing your head groggily. You wonder why you feel so tired, and the remnants of your dream drift slowly into your mind.

Scenes flash through your mind in the same frightening way you imagine one would see highlights of their life before they die. The hallway of a high school that is not your own, a bright-eyed boy grinning at you before he sprints away from you, a test that you had definitely not prepared for, a cute café and delicious treats, the strange feeling of not recognising yourself in the mirror...

“Y/n!” A voice calls for you from the kitchen, and you hastily slip on a pair of slippers and make your way through the house in search of breakfast. A small frown sits on your mother’s face as she finishes making her own breakfast, “Two days in a row you haven’t been awake on time. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep? Maybe you should go to sleep early tonight.”

“I’m fine, Mum,” you roll your eyes as she presses the back of her hand against your forehead.

“This is so unusual for you,” she mumbles, almost to herself. When you push her hand away to reach for the juice, she goes back to her breakfast, momentarily forgetting about the newspaper she had just been reading sitting beside her. “Yesterday I was starting to wonder if you’d had some kind of mental breakdown.” She looks up at you then, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion; you’d been exactly the same yesterday, only less tired.

“It’s… been an exhausting week,” you try to find an explanation. She seems satisfied with the answer. Looking at the time, you quickly stand up to rush to your room, “Shit. I need to get ready for school.”

You busy yourself with getting ready for school, only a little annoyed at yourself for not having packed your bag last night, the simple disruption to your morning routine adding a few minutes to your normal departure time. You were sure you’d packed it last night, but your belongings scattered around your room clearly disagreed. Quickly sliding your binders, books and laptop into your backpack, you rushed around your room. Luckily, you didn’t miss the bus.

“Y/n!” Your best friend, Nina, sees you shortly after you enter the front doors of your school. Her excitement to see you is shown in the way she smiles at you, though it shortly changes to a small frown as she looks you up and down. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you answer honestly, shying away from her assessing gaze. Her eyes scan your face.

“Nina, would you quit it?” Seungmin laughs, giving her a slight push. You hadn’t even noticed him walking up to the two of you. She stumbles, her eyes moving from you to him, narrowing. “She’s fine,” he states, turning to you now.

“You were acting so weird yesterday,” she stresses to you, still looking at you tentatively as if she expected you to spontaneously combust any second.

“What?” You frown in confusion at them, wondering why they were being so dramatic. Maybe a bad test result made you cry yesterday, but that wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for you. Opening your locker, you tear your gaze from your friends in favour of focusing on piling your books onto the shelf. From the corner of your eye, you can tell they’re still watching you wearily. “Alright, spill it. What’s up?”

“You…” Nina struggles to find the words.

“It was like you were a different person,” Seungmin finally says. “You kept forgetting who you were, where you were, what you were supposed to be doing. We thought you had amnesia or something.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you look between them again, “You’re kidding, right?” You think back to yesterday – Tuesday – and can’t remember anything out of the ordinary.

“No, Y/n, we’re dead serious,” Nina responds, eyeing you again.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you guys but I have a class to get to. Mrs Kim has a paper for me,” you grab your history books and close your locker.

Nina looks at Seungmin confusedly, “Don’t you have history third period?” He nods. She turns to you again, “Y/n, history is third period. We have chemistry first.”

“We always have history first on a Wednesday,” you smile, rolling your eyes. “Come on, guys, you know I memorised my schedule on the first day.”

There’s silence, before Seungmin grabs his phone from his pocket, pressing the button so the screen lights up and dangles it in front of your face, “Yeah, well, it’s Thursday, so history is third.”

The bell rings before you can dispute this. Even though, of course, what could you say? It was Thursday – your own phone said so, so they couldn’t be messing with you. How could it be that a whole day had slipped from your memory?

You drift between classes in a confused daze, only loosely focusing on the words of your teachers and peers, slowly writing half-finished notes and barely registering when the teacher was giving you homework.

Your focus was primarily on Wednesday – yesterday – and why you couldn’t remember anything. There were plenty of memorable things that happened on Wednesdays – you had gym class, your usual ice cream date with Nina and Seungmin, work. Yet, you couldn’t remember any of them.

“Did I hit my head yesterday? I can’t remember anything at all,” you frown, whispering to Seungmin while Mrs Kim drones on about the cold war.

“Maybe,” he tries to suppress a giggle. “You sure were acting like you did.”

Yawning, you turn over the page of notes you were adding to, revealing a page of messily handwritten notes that definitely wasn’t done by you. The handwriting, for starters, was a messy scrawl that frequently sloped in a downwards direction and overstepped the neatly printed lines on the page. Completely done in black ink, without any highlighting or colour coding the rest of your notes had, you dismissed it as Seungmin writing in your book.

But Seungmin used blue ink almost religiously, and the handwriting didn’t match his. Why would Seungmin write ‘who am i?’ over and over in my book?

Your name was scrawled in the corners of the pages, as if you had forgotten it and needed the reminder.

“Y/n,” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Mrs Kim, who was handing out a worksheet. She smiles at you, “Ah, so you remember your name today?” Seungmin snickers beside you and you elbow him swiftly, effectively shutting him up. “Did you read my notes on your essay?”

You blush, embarrassed and guilty, “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t had the ti-“

Mrs Kim gives you a warm smile, “That’s okay. Let me know when you have.” She walks away, moving on to another student.

Seungmin leans closer to you, his eyes remaining on the teacher, “I’m surprised she didn’t mention the fact that you dodged her yesterday after class.”

“Huh?”

“She wanted to talk to you about the notes on your essay, and you completely ran out! Not as if you had any place to be; Mr Park was late to calculus again.”

“Oh. Oh, right,” you mutter, lowering your chin to the desk.

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

“Where the fuck is my essay?” You groan in frustration. Hyunjin, the poor soul whose locker is right beside yours, startles at your sudden outburst.

“Are you okay?” He shuts the door of his locker gently, leaning against it as he looks you up and down, concern on his face.

“Mrs Kim gave me an essay yesterday and I must’ve misplaced it.” Your locker isn’t exactly messy, so there are very few loose papers in there. A quick flick through the few documents stashed haphazardly in your locker proved it wasn’t in there.

“Don’t you have some intense filing system?” His eyes flicker down to the binder in your hand, dividers neatly sectioning off different parts. “Is it not in there?”

“If it were in here, I wouldn’t be searching my locker,” you mumble sadly. His eyes widen.

“Right... Seungmin has history with you, right?” Hyunjin’s attention shifts to something behind you, and he waves a hand, gesturing for someone to come over. “Hey, Seungmin!”

“Hey, dude,” Seungmin greets. “What’s up?”

“Y/n is missing a history essay,” Hyunjin helpfully explains. When Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow in thought, Hyunjin takes it as an opportunity to leave, and quickly departs down the hallway in search of his own friends.

“Didn’t you throw it away?”

“I don’t throw away my essays.”

“I’m pretty sure you did. After you walked out yesterday. I saw you put something in the bin,” his eyes flicker to yours. “I just assumed it was rubbish.”

You groan, pressing your forehead against Hyunjin’s locker, whining, “No.”

“I’m sure Mrs Kim would redo her notes if you asked her. You typed it, didn’t you? Just reprint it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you pout. He smiles warmly at you.

“You’ll be fine, Y/n,” Seungmin rests a hand on your shoulder, attempting to steer you away from the row of lockers and towards the cafeteria, closing your locker door with his foot. “But now, lunch.”

******************************************************************************************

The rest of the day flies by and, before you know it, you’re in Seungmin’s car as he drives you home. The town rushes past you in a flurry of houses and small grocery stores, drive thru restaurants and gas stations, and you struggle to stay awake.

“Hey, sleepy head, you’re home,” Seungmin tries to suppress his laughter, giving you a light nudge. “Get out of my car.”

Groaning, you slump away from the door, clumsily finding the door handle and almost falling out of the car, “Fine! I’ll see you tomorrow, assface.”

“Yeah,” he smiles warmly. “See you then.”

The hours of the evening are mostly taken up with homework, as you try and get as much done as possible before the weekend. As it steadily approaches midnight, you find youself getting more and more tired, eventually getting to the point where you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. And from there, darkness consumes you.

******************************************************************************************

RING! RING! RING! The alarm is loud and so annoying. You wonder why you chose to wake up to this, rather than your usual alarm, and turn to your side, fumbling around for the snooze button, your eyes still shut tight from exhaustion. Your eyes open when instead of hitting your bedside table or your alarm, your hand slams into a wall, eliciting a loud grunt from your mouth. For a second, you’re shocked at how deep your voice sounds, but your shock turns to fear when you realise you’re not in your bedroom.

You’re in a bedroom, but it’s certainly not your own. The walls are white, covered in posters and photos and a huge wall hanging that has plants growing out of small pots, leaves cascading down the wall. It’s homely, cute, but not where you expected to wake up – and due to that last fact, horrifying.

You clamber out of bed in search for your clothes, your shoes, your bag, anything that belongs to you. Unable to recall when or how you got here, you wonder if you’re hungover. But you didn’t go out last night - on a Thursday - you didn’t drink last night, and your head isn’t at all sore. Despite the lack of a headache, you still reach a hand up to your head, rubbing it. Your eyes widen at your hair – well, the lack of hair. It’s short, and you can feel the way it’s sticking up in all directions from sleep.

You rush to the mirror in the corner of the room, screaming when you realise you don’t look at all like how you normally look, and screaming louder when you realise your voice is so deep.

You’re a boy.

Ew, you think.

Wait, you look in the mirror. This is some crazy ass dream.

You take a look around the room, seeing the face in the mirror in the photographs, recognising the familiar brown hair and sparkling eyes. Reaching a hand up to touch your face, you push and pull the skin, watching it move in the mirror. You almost expected it to stay rigid, as if you were wearing a mask. This is so weird.

“Jaemin! Are you getting ready for school? Jeno’s going to be here in any minute!” A female voice calls from – presumably – downstairs, and you quickly look around the room. A uniform is hanging on the back of the door – one you don’t recognise – and you move to get changed, though something stops you.

You wait a second before responding, in case the voice was calling to someone in the house. When no one responds, you take a leap of faith, “Yeah! I’m getting dressed now!”

You look down briefly at the cold grey pyjama pants you’re – Jaemin’s – currently wearing, and take a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut as you pull the material down. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

You decide you have to open your eyes when you pull the school shorts on backwards (and you can feel that it’s backwards in ways you could never begin to explain as a girl) and try your hardest to think about anything else. You find the bathroom, which was thankfully located opposite the bedroom, and go about your normal routine as best you can.

The school bag slumped against the wall is empty, and you look around the desk for anything you might have to take with you, packing a few notebooks, a laptop, a pencil case (if you could call it that – it appeared to be a plastic bag with a few pens in it) and a water bottle.

“Hey, sweetie,” a beautiful woman greets you as you bound into the kitchen with a lot of energy. Why am I so hyper?

“Hey… Mum?” You cringe as the greeting comes out more like a question, hiding your face in the fridge.

Luckily, she just laughs. “I know, I know, I’m not normally in the kitchen.” She notices the way you scan the fridge, “Hey! Aren’t you and Jeno going to get food before school?”

You freeze, “Oh, um, yeah. We are. I’m just… browsing.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tonight, Jaem. Have a good day at school,” she kisses you on the top of the head, swiping her hand through your hair before leaving. You try your best to fix it, letting it flop down messily over your forehead.

Spotting an apple and a brown banana in a cracked dish on the counter, you slide the apple into your backpack and begin zipping it up when you hear a honk outside that almost makes you drop everything. You stop to listen, and two more honks follow. Confused, you wait. There’s the familiar sound of a car door slamming shut, and then you hear footprints on the front porch of the house. The doorbell rings.

The doorbell is monotonous, and you don’t wait for it to finish ringing before you pull the door open, instantly meeting the soft face of a boy your age, a confused look on his face. You’ve seen him somewhere, but you can’t place him. “Dude, I honked, like, three times. What’s going on?”

“Oh,” you say, dumbly. You surpise yourself by sounding even dumber with the question that follows, “Jeno?”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows draw nearer as he frowns at you. “Are you playing that ‘I don’t know who I am’ joke again?”

You force out a laugh, “No, I’m just messing with you.” You give him a light punch on the arm, trying to act like every douchebag guy you’ve seen in a high school movie. It’s tragic that you suddenly can’t recall how real boys act. “Let’s go,” you push past him, sighing in a way that makes it seem like he’s the one acting weird and not yourself.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but then he shrugs and heads back to his car, waiting for you to finish locking the house (after much confusion over which key it is).

Once you’re in the car, you pull out the phone that had been sitting beside the bed you’d woken up in and thought thankfully that there was a finger-print unlock feature. Quickly scanning through a few messages, you learnt that Jeno was probably Jaemin’s best friend - and you were in a few group chats; ‘the Bros’, ‘chemistry lab group’, ‘mark’s birthday plans’, ‘Mum & Dad’, and a few others.

“So, I was thinking, Hyuck’s having a party at his place tonight, right?” Jeno begins talking, and once you realise you’re going to have to go to this party, too. “Hyunjin is coming, and he’s bringing a few girls from his school – you know, that guy we versed in lacrosse a few weeks ago? His parents know my parents and – whatever, it’s not important. He’s bringing a few girls and I’m hoping that girl from the game is- Hey! Are you even listening?” Jeno’s eyes flit between you and the road, and you turn to him.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Did you ask him?” You’re dying to know if he’s talking about the Hyunjin you know – the real you knows – but you’re too self-conscious to ask too many questions, wanting to just get through the day with as little confusion as possible.

“Nah, I don’t really know the guy. He’s friends with Hyuck, though, I think, so maybe he’ll know.”

“Can you ask Yuck today?”

Jeno laughs, “Are you bringing back his middle school nickname? He’s gonna hate you so much for that. But I will, yeah. We have PE together today.”

He pulls into the parking lot of the school, and you vaguely recognise the school, maybe from posters or newspaper adverts, but you’re glad Jeno drove you because at least now you have someone to follow. And, you were unsure whether you’d been able to get to school without him.

You trail after Jeno through the main doors, but he clearly sees someone he knows, because he takes one look back at you before he runs off to catch them, “Catch you later, yeah?”

And it’s right then that it clicks; you know exactly where you’d seen him before: in your dream. You’d been here before. You’d seen him before. You’d been Jaemin before.

Fuck.

[lupinlongbottom]

Burning Bridges pt. 5

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: Weddings are a beautiful thing, no? (Y/N) and Neville finally bring it upon themselves to make out up, trying their best to work with what they’ve got. 

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: bit of swearing

A/N: ooo fancy. squint and you can see plot, maybe? dunno.

Part 1 ... Part 2 ... Part 3 ... Part 4 ... Part 6 ... Part 7

___

The first thing Neville felt was the cold. The winter air nipped at his nose like an old friend, bitter and unrelenting. The cold contrasted the searing hot touch against his lips, suddenly and all at once. (Y/N) had pressed herself against Neville abruptly, effectively shutting him up.

“(Y/N),” He mumbled, pulling away reluctantly. “What’re you—”

(Y/N) pressed her lips to Neville’s again, a bit harder than before. Her hands connected around his neck, pulling him in deeper. Finally deciding the fight just wasn’t worth it, Neville gave in, snaking his hands around her waist, holding her close. The two swayed in silence, only breaking for a breath, going back deeper than they had left off. The tension that had been building like a taught rubber band for the last five years had finally snapped, blinding the two with a white hot light.

“Neville,” (Y/N) removed her lips from his, focusing on the flush of his face, noting the few freckles that had dotted the bridge of his nose. “I know this isn’t ideal—”

“—don’t care,” Neville mumbled, diving back in for another kiss, growing more daring by the whimper (Y/N) let out. The cold that had once bit at his nose was long forgotten. Neville grew more fearless in his motions, allowing his initial gentleness wash away, a low groan emitting softly from his throat.

“I never knew you were so daring, Longbottom,” (Y/N) pulled away, face thoroughly flushed. “Out in the open like this,” she glanced at the open courtyard, catching her breath. 

“Neither did I,” Neville smiled, resting his hands again at her waist, afraid to let her go. “But I need a push from time to time.”

“I’ll be here,” (Y/N) cupped his face, thumb resting above the scruff of his jawline. “I’m sorry if this fucks up our friendship—”

“—this,” Neville laughed, drawing circles in the sky with his nose. “Didn’t fuck up our friendship.”

“No?”

“No,” he smiled, pausing for a moment, thinking over his next words carefully. “Not talking to me for five years might’ve done that.”

(Y/N) slapped him playfully on the cheek, trying to pull an angry face. “Shut it,” a small giggle erupted from her lips. “Nev, can I be honest for a moment?”

“More honest than what we were just doing?”

She nodded. “Would it be completely insane of us to keep doing this?” Her eyes met Neville’s, looking for a wordless answer.

“I’m not following?” Neville replied, trying to see the suggestion in a different light.

“I want to snog you more,” (Y/N) admitted, not breaking eye contact. “I have a feeling you’d like to snog me more as well, but, someone may… catch us. Out here, I mean.”

“So you want to go snog in a broom closet like teenagers?” Neville laughed, pressing a kiss between her brows.

“Consider it making up for lost time,” she shrugged, grinning wildly.

“So you want to run and hide,” He started, watching (Y/N) nod. “Go snog in a dark room, hope that no one catches us,” Neville’s grin grew wider, smirking down at the woman before him. “At our friend’s wedding?”

“Bingo,” (Y/N) said, grabbing Neville by the hand and guiding him down the hall. Indeed they had passed a storage closet, thankfully unlocked. With one final double take of the hallway, the couple disappeared into the darkness.  

__

Sunlight filtered in through the darkness of the curtains hung carefully next to the bed. (Y/N) awoke with a beam of sun hitting her directly in the eye, blinding her momentarily. She felt warmer than usual, with a quick glance she realized that the blanket that had covered her legs was not her own. It was a deep green buffalo plaid print, terribly warm and inviting.

“What…” (Y/N) scanned around the bedroom. The layout was the same, bathroom to the right of the bed, dresser at the foot, doorway out to the living room adjacent to the dresser. Every corner of the room was decked out in greenery, from the various plants to the color of the sheets. “Oh…” she felt the bed shift next to her, begging her to look down.

It was Neville.

“Shit!” (Y/N) hissed, quickly glancing at what she was wearing. Realizing that she was still wearing the same dress she had worn the night before, (Y/N) let out a sigh.

Neville stirred in his sleep, groggily waking at the lack of warmth on his left side. At first, nothing was wrong, but the dream-like sight of (Y/N) practically threw him out of bed, toppling to the floor.

“Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked, quickly flying to the other side of the bed. 

Neville groaned in pain, having landed face first against the stone flooring. He mumbled a response against the marble.

“What?”

“Been…” Neville groaned, pushing himself off the ground, sitting next to the bed. He put his hands between his lap, stretching his back. “…better.”

“Don’t scare me like that!” (Y/N) said, flopping back onto the pillows.

“Scare you? Blimey, (Y/N) I would say that you’ve scared me a bit more just now,” he grinned, massaging his face, his eyes finding a large purple mark on his arm. “N-not that your face scares me! I just wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Likewise,” (Y/N) admitted, running a hand through her hair, finally pushing it out of her face. A realization struck her. “We didn’t…?”

“Oh!” Neville shot up like a rocket, head practically touching the ceiling. “No! At least, I don’t think we did? I feel like I would’ve remembered? Right?”

“There’s no need to shout,” (Y/N) giggled, watching the tips of Neville’s ears grow redder by the second. “We’re still wearing our clothes from the wedding, so I don’t think so either. I don’t remember much from last night, which is odd considering I didn’t have anything to drink…”

“Neither did I…” Neville mumbled, flattening the white dress shirt from the night before, still buttoned mostly. “Come to think, I don’t remember coming back here?”

“We’re not forgetful people,” (Y/N) said, smiling. “Well, you’ve gotten better over the years.”

“Maybe someone used a memory charm on us,” He laughed, jokingly. “Let’s retrace our steps,” Neville said, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. “We were at the wedding, we went for that walk, we—”  

“—made out, yeah,” (Y/N) added. “I pulled you to that closet—”

“—where we only snogged,” Neville pointed, thankful his face was turned away from (Y/N). “After that…?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t have the faintest idea,” she focused her stare at the potted plant hanging in the corner of his room, leaves dangling almost to the floor. “I remember the snogging—Godric do I remember the snogging,” (Y/N) sang, swaying whimsically a bit to herself. “You’re quite the kisser, you know?”

“I-I didn’t,” Neville turned his head, cheeks redder than a radish. “Thank you…” he said, twiddling his thumbs.

“You’re welcome,” (Y/N) smiled sweetly. “Look, Nev, I think we need to talk… about last night,” she sighed, watching Neville turn his body towards her. “Well, about everything, really. Things got a bit explosive—”

“—it’s my fault,” Neville said, waving his arm. He crossed his legs, now sitting at the end of his bed near (Y/N)’s feet, deeply aware of her presence and how terribly close he was to touching her. “I-I shouldn’t have looked through your things.”

“You didn’t,” (Y/N) said, noting the Gryffindor’s stuttering. Had he been doing that recently? “Like you said, I had it laying out. Not exactly a secret I was trying to keep, I suppose,” she shrugged, fingers playing with the lace of her gown. “To be honest, I couldn’t begin to tell you why I kept that cardigan in the first place,” a chuckle.

“It’s a warm cardigan,” Neville shrugged. “You’ve always had a thing for warm jumpers.”

“This much is true,” (Y/N) nodded, glancing at her wrist. The pink ribbon was tied neatly around it. “You’ve always liked my ribbons,” she laughed, holding her hand up, allowing Neville to see. “I’m real sorry for how I snapped, it’s just seeing the ribbon, from that day… To think you found it, and then kept it for so long, I don’t know. Something inside of me just broke open.”

“Something bad?”

“If it was something bad, I reckon I would’ve knocked you to the ground instead of kissing you, no?” (Y/N) smirked.

“Fair point,” Neville nodded, albeit a bit fast. She always had high marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, excelling at the knockback jinx, her signature move. “I’m sorry I didn’t make a better effort to find you—”

“—you did,” (Y/N) said, stopping Neville in his tracks. “You said so yourself, searched all around the wreckage for me after the fact. I was the coward hiding at the lake.”

“Your dad died, (Y/N), you had every reason to hide from other people…”

“My dad,” (Y/N) scoffed lightly, her fingers still dancing against the lace. “The dad that was in Azkaban my entire life? The man who decided that fighting for a pure-blooded society was more important than the blood of his own family? Deciding the fate of the daughter he knew for a few days, planning to marry her off to another pure-blooded bloke just to keep their family blood clean? Some dad.” 

“You were mourning the man you wish he could’ve been, not the man he was, right?” Neville said, hesitantly placing a hand on (Y/N)’s ankle, trying to comfort her. (Y/N) nodded.

“Sometimes I have dreams, you know? About what my life would’ve looked like if he hadn’t chose the life he did. He would buy me sweets all the time, teach me how to ride a broom, spoil me rotten,” (Y/N) let out a choked laugh, but no tears came. “But… he didn’t. I know that and I’ve known that for years now. It’s still no excuse for the choices I made that day.”

“I don’t blame you, at all,” Neville admitted. “I-I mean, I did. Then, for a bit. Honestly thought you were a bit selfish, running off the way you did.”

“I run off a lot, don’t I?” (Y/N) chuckled. “Never really been one to share my feelings, hold them all in here,” she pointed to her chest, tapping it a few times. “I’ve been trying to get better about it, took my few years on my own to reflect on that.”

“A bit ironic,” Neville joined in on her laughter. “Reflecting on the fact that you run off a lot while you ran from everything, no?”

“Shove it,” (Y/N) said, kicking Neville’s hand off her ankle. He smiled. “I mean it though, I’m sorry about everything. I was selfish, wasn’t thinking straight. I should’ve given you a chance, considering I was the one who initiated the kiss… both times.”

“Interrupted me both times, too,” Neville hummed. “Another bad habit of yours.”

“I didn’t interrupt you the first time!” (Y/N) scoffed. “I was so relieved that you were alive!” she felt her face heat up again. “But the second time you had said that you… well…”

“Oh,” Neville remembered. “I guess I did say… that.”

“Do you mean it?”

“I think I did,” Neville nodded. “Well, I know I did five years ago. I loved you,” He  said, finally releasing the words the two of them had been avoiding. He let them hang in the air for just a moment. “I did, love you, I mean. For a while. Practically since third year, actually,” the words came sputtering out of Neville like a babbling brook, faster than he could formulate a thought. “You were my best friend. You cared about me, more than anyone else really did. I just assumed you’d never feel that way about me so I shoved it down, especially when you and Seamus started to have that little fling.” 

“I think,” (Y/N) took a second to collect her thoughts. “I’ve always cared for you, Neville. You said so yourself. I guess I never really knew how I felt until I saw you, after all the fighting, saw that you were still alive and breathing,” she shrugged again. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you that day, too.”

“Did you ever…?” Neville couldn’t bring himself to finish his question, the answer almost seemed plain as the day before them.

“I did,” (Y/N) nodded.

“Do you think we could get to that place?” Neville asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his words as fragile as glass. “To be able to love each other at the same time, I mean?” 

“I’m not sure,” (Y/N) admitted, looking Neville in the eye. He looked almost defeated, his face turning down to his hands. “But I think we owe it to ourselves to try,” she leaned forward, gently placing her hand atop of his, the pink ribbon on her wrist tickling his fingers. “Obviously we both had some unresolved tension, if last night was any indication of that.”

“I-I’m not usually that bold—”

“—I know.”

“But you’re right, if we take it slow, start fresh,” Neville nodded, still staring at their hands. “Nurture it properly—”

“Are you comparing the complexity of our relationship to gardening?” (Y/N) laughed, pulling her hand away. Neville shrugged. “Should we make sure it gets enough water, too?”

“I’m trying to be serious here,” Neville said, pointedly. “Don’t have to go and make a joke about it.”

“What’re you going to do?” (Y/N) teased. “Break up with me?” 

“You said so yourself,” Neville stood up, adjusting his shirt. “Can’t break up with someone you’re not dating.”

“Ouch,” (Y/N) pressed a hand to her chest, right above her heart. “That hit me hard, Longbottom. Just annihilated my heart, crushed it to a thousand pieces.”

“Right,” He laughed. “We’ll take it slow,” Neville said again, circling back to their original topic. “I think we can get back to a place of mutual trust and understanding.”

“I agree,” (Y/N) said, finally hopping off Neville’s bed, unaware of the amount of time that had passed. “What does that make of us now, then? Surely we’re not just friends anymore…?”

“No,” Neville mumbled. “I suppose not…”

“And if we’re not ‘dating’,” (Y/N) said, stepping closer to Neville. She flung a finger between the two of them, now standing only a foot away from one another, waving it lightly. “What are we calling this…?”

“That’s a great question,” Neville gulped, now fully aware of the space, or lack thereof, between him and (Y/N). “B-because I have no idea. For now, anyway. If we can make it work, I’d want to ask you proper, not just in the heat of the moment.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t worry about putting a label on it,” (Y/N) said, pressing her finger onto Neville’s chest. “For now.”

“R-right,” Neville nodded, glancing down at (Y/N). “For now.”

“What time is it, anyway?” (Y/N) asked, trying to draw herself away from the situation at hand, fearing she’d dive too far and drown.

“Almost noon,” Neville said, taking a look at his watch, still attached to his wrist. “It’s Sunday, we don’t have any classes.”

“Sunday,” (Y/N) repeated, wracking her brain. “I think I was supposed to do something today…?”

“Funny,” Neville said, standing up. “Me too…?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” (Y/N) said, picking up her shoes. “Well, I better go and clean myself up for lunch, one look at me and the students will think I’ve gone mad.”

“Agreed,” Neville nodded. “I’ll save you a spot at lunch?” A small smile danced across his lips.

“I’d like that,” (Y/N) smiled back, fighting back a bigger grin. She exited Neville’s chambers, moving quickly to her own before anyone could see her. Thankfully the hallway was empty, allowing her to enter the room next door with ease. After a quick change and a simple detangling spell on her unruly hair, (Y/N) was ready for lunch.

The Great Hall was nearly empty, as the end of the lunch period was almost over. Students had gone back to their studying or other activities. The faculty table hosted only a few of her peers, Hagrid booming from the end, sitting next to Neville.

“…was beautiful, the weddin’!” Hagrid said, nearly sobbing into his napkin. “Ginny an’ Harry looked so happy!”

“I know,” Neville said, patting the half-giant’s back. “They looked really happy together.”

“Oh! (Y/N),” Hagrid stopped, noticing the young witch arrive at the table, sitting down next to Neville. “Sorry ya ‘ad to see that,” he sniffled, putting the napkin back onto his lap. “But it’s nice to see the two of you awake!” he glanced between Neville and (Y/N)

“Awake?” (Y/N) laughed, taking a plate of mashed potatoes and a thick red sauce. “You saw us last night, Hagrid, we weren’t sleeping.”

“Ya don’t remember?” Hagrid asked.

“Actually,” Neville said, swallowing a bite of bread quickly. “We don’t exactly remember much from last night…” he turned to (Y/N), noticing her face grow pink. “…from a certain point, that is.”

“Do you know how we got home? Back to the castle?” (Y/N) asked, hoping Hagrid had the answer.

“Well, I carried ya o’ course!” he boomed, laughter echoing throughout the hall. A few remaining students stared idly, wondering what could’ve caused him to laugh so loud. “I was walkin’ outside, ya see. Heard a loud thump from the courtyard,” he took a bite from his apple, leaving only half left. “Found the two of yer sleepin’ in a closet! Must’ve been the punch, ‘ad a few glasses of it myself.”

“We were… sleeping?” 

“On the floor?”

Hagrid nodded. “Figured ya ‘ad too much fun, took it upon meself to bring ya home,” he scratched his neck. “Tried droppin’ Longbottom off first, but,” Hagrid pointed at (Y/N) with his fork. “Ya started wakin’ up. Insisted ya were goin’ to sleep right there.”

“…and you let me?” (Y/N) said, hardly shocked, but her face was telling another story.

“Looked peaceful enough,” Hagrid shrugged. “Sorry ‘bout that mark, Neville. Thestrals accidentally gave ya a good kick."

Neville looked down to the growing purpling mark on his arm, oddly shaped like a horse’s hoof now that he took a better look at it. “At least that makes sense…”

“What doesn’t make sense is why we were knocked out in the broom closet,” (Y/N) said, voice growing low. “We didn’t have any punch and now we can’t remember?”

“Speakin’ of,” Hagrid said, setting his goblet down. “How’d yer meetin’ with McGonagall go?”

“Meeting?” the two said in unison.

“Semester briefing of course!” Hagrid laughed. “Reckon she gave me a nasty look ‘bout those murtlaps escaping, but we ‘ad a good laugh.”

“I don’t remember having a meeting today?” (Y/N) said, setting her fork down. “Neville, do you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Hagrid, do all faculty have this meeting today?”

“Yep,” Hagrid nodded. “Don’t tell me ya lot forgot?”

“Shit,” (Y/N) said, slamming her head onto the table, nearly missing her potatoes. “We’re dead,” she slammed her head again. “So dead.”

Neville reached over, stopping (Y/N) from slamming her head again. “We’re not dead,” he laughed, noticing the red mark now adorned to her forehead. “Royally screwed? Maybe.”

“Why in Merlin’s beard would we have forgotten? I never forget this kind of stuff! Hell, I can remember at least a hundred potions from the top of my head!” She stood up, readjusting her robes. “We have to go and talk to McGonagall.”

“We? But we just started eating…”

“We’ll eat something after we’ve kept our jobs,” (Y/N) said, pulling Neville up by the collar. “Unless you don’t want to keep working here?”

“Right,” Neville said, face determined. “You’re right.”

The two marched out of the dining hall, quickly working their way to the headmistress’ office, giving small greetings to passing students. (Y/N) cleared her throat, mumbling the password to enter the office. The stairs began to move upward, Neville and (Y/N) standing next to one another. “How mad do you think she is?”

“Hopefully not mad enough to sack us, I quite like this job.”

The office, still adorned with portraits of past headmasters lining the walls, was warm and inviting. The faint scent of vanilla wafted through the air, a cauldron burbling in the corner. 

“Professors,” Minerva said, glancing up from her paperwork. “Glad you finally decided to take a break in your busy schedule to show up.”

“Headmistress, we can explain—” 

McGonagall raised her hand, silencing (Y/N) effectively. “No need,” she stood up, walking down the few steps towards the two professors. “Forgetting our meeting isn’t like you, (L/N),” she turned to Neville. “I can’t say the same for you, Longbottom.”

“Normally I’d agree…” Neville sputtered, growing hot at the accusation. “But this wasn’t my doing this time, honest!”

“Minerva, we’re sorry we forgot about our meeting. At the Potter’s wedding last night, Neville and I—”

“—I don’t need the details of your night, Professor (L/N),” McGonagall raised her hand again. “I’m truly disappointed that the two forgot about the meetings. What sort of example are you setting for your students?” The two hung their head in shame. “Thankfully I really have no need to have the meeting with the two of you in the first place.”

“What?”

“(Y/N), your student’s marks are impeccably high, across the board. Even students who were struggling in Potions last year are succeeding in your class, even if it isn’t by a large percentage,” McGonagall turned to Neville. “Your classes, Longbottom, have only gotten the highest praises from students passing in the halls. The two of you should be proud.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Neville said, bowing lightly.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) mirrored.

“Besides the praises,” McGonagall warned, her voice growing more stern. “I shouldn’t have to punish you like students to get the point across. But, for this instance, I feel it to be necessary.”

“Are you going to have us scrub cauldrons? (Y/N) already keeps them sparkling,” Neville asked, his voice growing lower as the Headmistress’s eyes fell upon him.

“Of course not,” McGonagall scoffed. “Cauldron cleaning is left for the Potions Master to dole out for detentions as she sees fit,” she nodded at (Y/N). “But, seeing as the two of you seem to have enough free time in your schedules, you can add Wednesday evenings to your patrol duties. Both of you.”

“Wednesdays were one of our only nights off, Minerva,” (Y/N) blurted, allowing McGonagall’s first name to slip.

“And now they’re not,” McGonagall hummed. “If I remember correctly, you said so yourself, (Y/N), you’ve always wanted to patrol the halls as a professor, any chance you got, no?”

“I—yes,” (Y/N) nodded, caught in her own words. “Of course.”

“Redeem yourselves and the patrols will return to four times a week. Now that the business is out of the way,” McGonagall cleared her throat.

“Longbottom, if I recall you have remedial Herbology with two Hufflepuff students this afternoon, do you not?”

Neville’s face dropped. “You’re right! I completely forgot!” He nearly sprang from his shoes, hoping back to the entrance of the office. “Thank you, Headmistress!” He shot (Y/N) a small smile. “See you tonight, Professor (L/N).”

“That man wouldn’t remember his head if it weren’t screwed onto his neck,” (Y/N) chuckled, heading towards the door.

“(Y/N),” McGonagall said, “I have a feeling there’s something else to discuss?”

“Professor,” (Y/N) said. “Headmistress, I mean. I know this isn’t work related, but I need the advice of another witch.”

“Yes?”

“Last night, at the wedding, Neville and I after a certain point can’t remember anything. We don’t recall getting home, or anything after that. We also couldn’t remember our meetings today…”

“Did you have any of that vile punch?” McGonagall asked, tipping her nose into the air. “Potter said that the Weasley twins had concocted it. Hagrid drank quite a bit of it,” she smiled. “Are you sure your memory loss isn’t from that?”

“That’s the thing,” (Y/N) muttered. “We didn’t have anything to drink, as far as I’m aware."

“And you’re saying that you and Mr. Longbottom can’t recall your memories after a certain point? None, whatsoever?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. We woke up this morning with no recollection of anything after—”

“—after, what?” McGonagall asked, watching (Y/N) grow stiff. “After you and Mr. Longbottom had disappeared from the reception?” She smirked, readjusting her spectacles.

“Yes,” (Y/N) blurted, only slightly ashamed. “A bit after that…”

“Have you considered this to be the work of a memory charm?” McGonagall asked.

“That’s what Neville joked about this morning,” (Y/N) laughed. “N-not that we were together this morning,” she coughed. “I highly doubt that it could be a memory charm. Who would use a memory charm on us?”

“Normally memory charms are used to erase a specific memory,” McGonagall hummed. “But sometimes, when used improperly—or depending on the case—properly, the victim can forget more than the user bargained for.”

“I’m still not following…?”

“I would bet my last Galleon that someone used a memory charm on the two of you,” said McGonagall.

“Really? No joke?”

“No joke.”

“I know this may be a stupid question,” (Y/N) started, her eyes falling on the Pensieve. “But would it be possible—”

“No,” McGonagall said, cutting (Y/N) off. “The Pensieve doesn’t work like that. Once your memory is altered, you cannot call the memories to the Pensieve. Unless the witch or wizard who cast the charm on the two of you reverses it, I’m afraid there’s not much I can do.”

“Surely there must be a way to reverse the charm otherwise, right?” (Y/N) asked, voice dripping with hope. 

McGonagall shook her head. “Unless you’d like to undergo intense torture and suffering, I’m afraid not.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” (Y/N) bowed. “This has been helpful.”

“I hope it has,” McGonagall nodded. “And, (Y/N), please bear in mind what I had said to you on the first night of school.”

(Y/N) recalled the conversation. “Oh, Neville and I…”

“You two look good together,” McGonagall smiled. “But, please keep it professional. Students, they love their gossip."

“Of course, Headmistress,” (Y/N) nodded, finally bursting through the door. “How embarrassing…” she mumbled, walking back to her chambers. 

__

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[wkemeup]

The Witness (3)

series summary: After witnessing a Hydra hit and the handsome, flirtatious cop who had become a regular at your bar takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

pairing: detective!bucky x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: flirty bucky AF, descriptions of a panic attack 

series masterlist // previous chapter

Like clockwork, Bucky came staggering into the bar around nine at night for the next two weeks straight, still wearing his button-down shirts and badge hanging proudly from his belt or on a lanyard around his neck. Sleeves rolled up at the elbow and hair always perfect coiffed. Your patrons had gotten used to having him around. He was getting a few less dirty looks every time he walked in, anyway. Brenda had taken a liking to him and hard started calling him names like ‘sugar’ and ‘pretty boy’ which Bucky took happily in stride.

He’d flash you that charming smile as he took his usual seat and you filled his glass, waving him off when he tried to pay for it, though he still found a way to sneak it into the tip jar when your back was turned.

He’d tell you about his partner, Sam (who apparently drove him completely nuts) and Captain Rogers, or Steve as he called him, who was his best friend growing up and used to be as intimidating as a twig before puberty took a number out on him. He’d tell you about his ma and sister who lived out in Brooklyn and the last time he went to a Yankee’s game when he was a kid. He’d ask you about what you did outside of the bar, and you’d just laugh at him and tell him the truth – that you spent your life between these walls and didn’t have the time for much else.

Between runs down the bar to fill up the glasses of inpatient customers who’d find themselves waiting a bit longer than they should be because you were caught up in conversation, you’d tell Bucky about good memories you had of your father – how he wasn’t just the man who trafficked drugs for a vile organization but how he was also a good father with a kind heart who missed his wife. You’d tell him you still go to the penitentiary to visit once a month, even seven years since he was locked away by the DEA. You’d tell him about the time a few of the regulars had chipped in to replace the window that had a brick thrown through it a few years back when you were first wiping the ledger clean in this bar and how much pride you held for it, despite what people thought of you or your customers.

If Bucky was ever bored with your stories, he never once let on. He’d smile softly, nodding as you spoke, asking questions here and there between sips of his drink. You’d find yourself laughing so hard you doubled over when Brenda would drunkenly hit on him for the fourth time in a night and he’d turn her away so politely, you couldn’t help but wonder how much practice he had with women throwing themselves at him.

He was handsome, there was no denying that. Eyes that blue and a jaw line that could slice through marble were enough to make anyone stop and stare for a moment too long. With each night he came into your bar without fail, already telling you about the new stunt Sam pulled that nearly made him strangle the poor man before he even took a seat, made your stomach flutter. Pushing it aside wasn’t as easy as you thought.

It was nearing on the three-week mark since the night in the alley and Bucky was sitting in his usual spot at the bar, two glasses in. He was resting his head on his hand, elbow propped up against the bar. Eyes were slowly falling shut, upper body slumping forward a few inches before he jumped back up, took another sip from the glass, and started the process again.

You smiled to yourself as you watched him, forgetting for a moment you were filling someone’s glass with tequila before you felt the liquid pour over the sides and onto your hand.

“Oh shit,” you recoiled, flinching at the sensation and setting the glass down on the bar as you reached for a clean towel. Quickly brushing yourself off and then sweeping the now wet towel against the bar to clean up the rest of the wasted alcohol, your sole tequila-on-the-rocks-with-a-splash-of-sprite customer was grinning wildly at you.

“You are being obvious as hell, kiddo,” he said amusingly, eyes trailing between you and the half-sleeping Detective at the other end of the bar. He bent down to the bar and slurped at the overflowing glass until it was stable enough to pick up.

You squinted your eyes, following his stare down to Bucky before you forced out a scoff, feigning some level of offense. “You better get your eyes checked, Benny.”

Benny puckered his lips, always searching for gossip around this bar and waited for you to change your mind. He’d take any kind of new information he could get; who was sleeping with who, who spent the night in jail, whose brother the cops were after, he wanted to know it all; coveted people’s secrets like they were collectables. You always liked Benny, but he was not someone you wanted to know your business – not that Barnes was your business or anything.

When you didn’t back down, Benny huffed, waving his arms at you before he picked his glass back up and quickly made his way back to his table.

Unable to stop the smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you made your way down the bar to Bucky. His cheek was currently sliding down his palm, mouth agape and eyes closed.

A brief moment of silence as he let out a snore. You smirked, and then, “Hey there!”

Bucky snapped up, arms flailing out to the sides to steady himself on the stool as you sprung forward to grab ahold of his drink before he knocked it on the floor. He was blinking rapidly, trying to catch his bearings. He froze, still as a statue.

“Go home, Barnes,” you told him, shaking your head with a heart-filled laugh as he looked up to you through heavy eyelids.

“N-no, I’m good, doll,” Bucky yawned, doing his best to throw you a smile that looked like it took just about all of his energy to produce. His lids were already falling heavy. 

“You can’t be doing your shift at the station and then sitting here to watch me bartend until two in the morning every night. You’re exhausted.” You sighed, folding your arms as Bucky started to shake his head defiantly. “Besides, there hasn’t been an inkling that Hydra knows anything about me. You don’t have to be here.”

“I told you, doll,” Bucky suppressed another yawn, “this bourbon is just,” he took a sip, though this time he couldn’t hold back the grimace he as swallowed and forced out an unconvincing smile, “so good.”

“You don’t have to do this, Bucky,” you chuckled. “I’m fine here. Go get some sleep. Besides, how are you going to help me if something does happen and you’re passed out at the bar?”

“How am I gonna help you if I’m not even here?” he retorted, only half joking, as he raised an eyebrow. There was a glow of confidence woven into the curve of his lips, believing he got one up on you. 

It was then that you reached under the bar, pressing the few buttons of a combination and the door popped open. Your hand felt around the rifle until it set on a thin, small card. You pulled it out, pursing your lips into a smirk. Bucky took one look at the card and his face fell. He let out an exasperated groan that threatened to tug a smile from your cheeks. 

“I believe I have this for a reason, huh?”

“But-”

“Go home, Detective,” you urged sincerely. “Can’t have you doing a half-assed job protecting the people of New York when you’re barely awake to do so. I’ve got plenty of back up here.” You gestured towards the crowd drinking happily at the tables behind him.

Bucky’s shoulders slumped. “Been a while since I’ve had a good eight hours. I might’ve forgotten how.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you smiled, prying the empty glass from his hand.

“Fine, fine,” Bucky succumbed, but not before he reached out and snagged the business card from your hand. 

You watched him curiously as he pulled a pen from his pocket and started to scribbled a number on the back. Thick, black ink in messy handwriting detailing what looked like a phone number. It was different than the one printed on the front, you noticed. 

Satisfied, he handed it back to you. 

You eyed it suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“If something goes wrong, like seriously wrong,” he started, a sincerity in his features that caught you off guard, “you call the number on the back. Number on the front is our desk at the station but the one on the back will reach me no matter where I’m at. Doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll pick up. I swear it on my life.”

“Bucky,” you gaped, taken back as you shook your head and tried to give the card back to him, “you don’t-“

“Yes, I do,” he countered sternly, though he gave you a smile and pushed your hand back gently. “You call that number and I promise I’ll be here as fast as I possibly can. Your emergency contact, remember?”

You smiled, remembering fondly. You brushed your thumb over the dried ink of messy writing before you surprised yourself by placing it in your back pocket instead of the safe. You turned back to Bucky whose eyes were already falling heavy again. You sighed, shaking your head with a laugh.

“I don’t want to see you here tomorrow, you hear me?”

“But, Y/n-”

“Promise me,” you demanded and he let out a dramatic sigh. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep. You don’t need to be here every night, Bucky. I can handle myself. You know that.”

“Hard to forget the first time I met you,” Bucky nodded, a glimmer of the memory in his eyes as he glanced down at the spot behind the bar where you kept your rifle stored away.

“Good,” you quipped, jumping around the bar and yanking him up from the stool. You pushed him towards the door. “Now get out of here!”

He was laughing, the sound so sweet it made your stomach twist, as he dragged his feet towards the door. You let go of his back and leaned against the bar, folding your arms over your chest, as you watched him slump towards the exit. He paused, turning over his shoulder for one last look and you pointed sharply towards the door. He shook his head, hair ruffling into his eyes, though it didn’t obstruct the smile upon his lips.

The door closed behind him and you pushed aside the ache that already missed him.

***

Bucky held true to his word. You didn’t see him the next night, or the one after that. An unsettled feeling started to develop in your stomach whenever you glanced down at the end of the bar where he usually sat, the stool empty as it awaited his company.

It was nearing nine when the bell above the door chimed just loud enough to be heard over ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’ playing on the speakers. The lime you were squeezing into Mosely’s jack and coke ended up more in your hand than it did in the glass as your attention diverted to the door.

In strolled Bucky Barnes, bouncing down the steps with a grin spread across his face and a newfound energy you hadn’t seen in him since you met. He paused when he caught you watching him and winked before he settled in at his usual seat. 

“Uhhh... Y/n?” Mosely’s voice pulled you from your daze. You raised an eyebrow, and he pointed to your hand where lime juice was currently dripping down your wrist. You raised your hand, examining the drips as they started to run down your forearm, tickling the skin as they fell. 

“Sorry, Mose,” you muttered, gaze flickering down at Bucky as he sat hunched over his phone. He had already reached behind the bar to grab his empty bourbon glass.

Mosely snorted, clearly amused as you went to squeeze another lime wedge for him, this time getting most of the juice inside the glass. You dropped it inside and pushed it down to the bottom with the stirrer.

“Thanks, kid,” Mosely said he put a few singles on the counter. You nodded in appreciation and picked up the bills, setting them in the tip jaw behind the bar.

Brushing your hands over the towel sitting on your hip, you took and deep breath and walked down the length of the bar to where Bucky sat. His head perked up as he heard you coming and he set his phone aside.

“Hey stranger,” he drawled, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips and you found yourself drawn down to them. They were full, pink, with a faded scar towards the end of his lower lip that must have been from a nasty fight, never fully healed.

Realizing what you were doing, you quickly turned to the shelf, swiping your hair over your ears in hopes to hide the redness there as you grabbed the bottle of bourbon. He was smiling at you, eyes tracing over just about every feature on your face as you poured his drink. You furrowed your brow, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, clearly more observant than you gave him credit for. Though to your relief, he didn’t say anything if he noticed you staring at him. He took a sip of the drink and only pouted a little as it went down. “You miss me?”

“I think it might inflate your ego too much if I said I did,” you chuckled, wiping down the counter next to him.

“I’m going to take that as a ‘yes,’” Bucky grinned into his drink as he took another sip. “You know, I took your advice, actually got some sleep. Turns out, the bags under my eyes aren’t permanent. Who knew?”

“Wow, Barnes, I’m so proud of you; acting like a functioning human being,” you teased and he feigned offense.

“The key word is ‘acting’, ain’t it?”

You shrugged, trying to hide your laugh under your breath to avoid giving him the satisfaction. Reaching out to wipe down the counter on his other side, you realized Bucky was staring below your eyeline, down towards your chest. 

“That’s an interesting necklace,” he commented curiously. You looked down, realizing it had fallen out from behind your shirt again. A blush crept up your cheeks. Usually, you’d hide it away whenever someone mentioned it, but Bucky was more understanding of your father than most.

You reached up to grab the necklace, fiddling with it between your fingers. “My father gave it to me before he was arrested. He said it was supposed to protect me. Don’t know what from; my own anxiety, I guess. Sometimes just holding it in my hand makes me feel better.”

You didn’t even know why you were telling him this. You’d never told anyone. Face heating again, you cleared your throat and tucked the pendent down your shirt again. Bucky sent you a sweet kind of smile, understanding.

“It’s a nice sentiment,” he replied sincerely, taking a sip from his drink.

Someone called your name down at the end of the bar, snapping you from your bubble. Bucky nodded at you to go, encouraging you with a gentle push as he reached over the bar. He was the only one you let do that.

Hours passed by and Bucky was still sitting at his spot. You refilled his glass a few times and brought him over a cup of water when his eyes started to fall heavy and his speech began to slur. Usually, he spent an hour or so, stayed until midnight at the latest, but now, it was coming up on one-thirty and you were closing soon.

“How you doing down here, Detective?” you chimed, smiling as Bucky lifted his head from the counter, a slow curve of his lips as he looked up at you under those thick lashes of his.

“I’m good, doll,” he replied, a slight slur of his words as he raised his thumb from his fist. He took a drink of the water next to him.

“I’m sure you are,” you commented, a laugh under your breath. You were about to head to the other end to restock the pretzel bowls when Bucky’s spoke up again.

“How are you, Y/n?”

“I’m fine, Bucky,” you replied quickly, but he shook his head, eyes narrowing.

“No, how are you? Seriously,” Bucky asked again, his voice a little stronger now as he met your eye. A kind of concern washed over his features. “It’s been a month.”

Your jaw clamped tight and you bit your tongue, wincing at the sting of it. You swallowed back the coppery taste and shrugged as if your heart hadn’t picked up in pace at the thought of that night in the alley.

“I’m good.” You were barely convincing yourself, let alone the Detective sitting across the bar, studying you. Bucky parted his lips to say something but you interjected before he could. “What other choice do I have? Just be afraid all the time?” You leaned in closer, eyes darting over Bucky’s shoulder to make sure the remaining patrons were out of earshot, “Hydra still doesn’t know anything about me, right?”

Bucky nodded quickly, his hand jutting out and setting over yours. You glanced down at it as his fingers curled underneath and squeezed lightly. His hand was big, covering most of yours easily, and rough under the palm, like he spent summers growing up doing yard work and working in a garage. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles against your skin. You shivered.

“They know nothing about you, Y/n, I promise,” he whispered, sobering up fast, the sincerity in his tone making your heart jump. “I’ve got people I trust on this case hunting down leads and working hard to nail this asshole. We’ll take good care of you, doll.”

You nodded, eyes still glued to his hand wrapped tightly over yours. He must have noticed your gaze as he slowly pulled his hand back. You pushed aside the urge that craved the warmth he took with him.

“So, have you?” you started, and Bucky raised an eyebrow, “Found any leads?”

Bucky sighed, running his hand over his face. “Hydra is… very good at covering their tracks. No one’s talking. But we’re not giving up, doll. I made a promise to you, didn’t I?”

You forced out a smile, not entirely convinced, though you did your push to shove it down behind a closed door in the back of your conscious where you’d been keeping your anxiety and paranoia locked away since it happened.

Bucky was watching you, blue eyes scanning over your face as his hand reached out towards you again.

“I’m putting a new policy in place,” you quipped, pulling your hand back from the counter before Bucky could hold it again. He didn’t seem phased by it, always so patient, as he let you change the subject abruptly without question. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Three nights a week,” you responded casually. “That’s all you get. Choose wisely.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “No, absolutely not! I got my rest like you told me to. I’m good!”

“That’s the thing, Bucky. You kinda need to do that on a nightly basis,” you chuckled.

“I don’t think my body could physically deal with eight hours of sleep on the regular. I’m meant to thrive in deprivation,” he countered, batting his eyes at you. The twist of nerves in your stomach didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well, you can thrive three nights a week then.” You grabbed his empty bourbon glass from the counter and set it in the sink. You reached over and rang the bell for last call, alerting the few remaining stragglers you were coming up on closing.

You didn’t know why you were so adamant about keeping Bucky out of your bar. Whether it was when he was first passing out on the countertop or now, setting this rule about only letting him sit at the end of your bar a few nights a week. Perhaps you had started to notice the way your heart swelled when he walked in the door or the nerves fluttering in your stomach whenever he smiled at you, and it was getting too much. Perhaps you just genuinely were looking out for his well-being. It couldn’t be healthy for him to operate on so little sleep, plus he didn’t need a reputation that came with hanging around in this kind of bar on a nightly basis.

Regardless, you pushed aside the ache in your chest as you stuck to your guns.

“I don’t know,” Bucky started but you held your hand up.

“You just said they don’t know anything about me and you’ve got no leads. It’s practically a cold case.” You quickly refilled Al’s glass as he handed it to you and sent him a warning glance to finish that thing before you shut down. He was a familiar with that particular type of look.

Bucky rubbed at his temples. “I guess, but-“

“Do you argue with your friends as much as you argue with me?” you asked, the teasing in your voice eliciting a spark behind his eyes as he smirked back at you. He leaned over the bar, resting on his forearms.

“You hurt me, doll,” he feigned offense, winking at you. “Here I thought we were friends.”

You laughed, hoping he didn’t see the flush in your cheeks, though you knew him better than that.

“Whatever you say, Buck.”

***

It took another night of convincing, but he finally agreed to an every-other-day basis. That was until his caseload forced him into coming more sporadically when yet another month had come and gone with no word from Hydra and no leads on the man in the alley.

Two months of nothing.

No word. No leads. Just business as usual, save for the charming brunette detective showing up once every few days to check in on you. The lack of progress in the case didn’t seem to stop the nervous ticks and paranoid looks over your shoulder when you found yourself alone at night, it seemed.

Five nights had gone by since you saw Bucky last. You found yourself glancing down at his empty spot at the bar, missing his lighthearted teasing and stories from the one-four more often than you cared to admit.

When he finally did come back, he came barreling up to the bar, reaching over the barrier to grab a glass and waited patiently for you to notice him. He really needed a drink, no matter how shitty it was.

“Rough day?” you inquired, giving him a heavier pour than usual. He nodded in thanks before chugging down half of it. You winced as he set it back on the counter rather loudly.

“Sorry, doll,” Bucky sighed, rubbing at his temple. “Guess I went too long without a drink, huh?”

“Apparently,” you chuckled under your breath as you refilled his glass before he could finish.

He shrugged, bringing the glass slowly up to his lips. “Missed my favorite bartender, too.”

“Careful, Barnes,” you warned, shaking your head in a soft laugh and trying hide the flush in your cheeks as he took another, more reasonable, sip of the bourbon. A smirk began to fill his face as he carefully set it back against the bar.

“I think if I was the careful type, I’d be in the wrong profession, huh?”

“Seems that way,” you agreed, moving a few paces down the bar to serve another round to one of Brenda’s buddies. You pulled the lever of the tap, but turned your head in Bucky’s direction to continue, saying, “Can’t imagine you’d be hanging around a bar like this if you had any self-preservation instincts, anyway.”

This got him laughing, biting on the skin of his lip trying to suppress it just to keep your own ego in check. He took a heavier sip from his glass.

Five hours later and it was coming up on closing. There still he was, sitting at the bar, nursing the bourbon he hated so much. He stared off at the bottles of liquor lining the shelves behind the bar, almost as if in a trance, before his phone would beep and occupy his time for a few moments.

You’d catch him glancing down in your direction, not looking to wave you over, but just to watch as you’d interact with the patrons, wipe down the counters, refill beer glasses, and mix drinks. It set a kind of nervousness in your stomach, one that was different from the tinging in your veins when he’d flirt shamelessly with you across the bar and send you that flashy smile of his.

In the moments he didn’t think you noticed, he studied you with the kind of careful precision that suggested he carried more intention behind his words than he let on. Flirty banter and casual conversation were one thing, but adamantly insisting that he spend his free time sitting across from you at the bar to keep an eye out for potential Hydra threats was another. He may tease and joke and pretend that he’s only here for the shitty bourbon, but you could sense there was more than that.

And it terrified you.

It had been a busier night than you were expecting. Big Al had brought in a group of friends who had rode in from Texas, bringing the bar to near capacity. Bikers were a rowdy type of folk and they kept you on your toes, refilling their glasses once every few minutes. Tips were pouring in so fast you had to empty out the jar twice, so you couldn’t complain, even if it left you without time to linger casually down the bar by Bucky.

The men and women clad in leather vests had their arms around one another, beer sloshing out the sides of the glasses, as they sang along, rather off-key, to ‘Piano Man'. It was amusing, to say the least, and you found yourself humming along under your breath.

You were refilling the pretzel bowl at the end of the bar when a sudden clanging noise sounded over the music; one that was too familiar - it stuck in your head and rang so deafening it was all you could hear - one that sent you spiraling back to the night in the alley.

It rang out again and you dropped the pretzel container, heart pounding violently in your chest as the contents spilled to the floor. It was like everything was happening in slow motion, like you were running under water, your limbs too heavy.

None of the patrons seemed to notice.

You couldn’t breathe.

Stumbling back, you felt your breath hitch, hands starting to shake as a numbness spread over your skin. You couldn’t focus, not on the biker gang singing karaoke, or on Bucky who was calling your name cautiously from the other end of the bar. Double vision, a ringing in your ears – you had to get out of here.

Hands gripping against the bar for support, you dragged yourself from behind the barrier and stumbled towards the wall. You couldn’t think straight, not with your breaths coming in so rapidly. You had to get somewhere else, anyone else, before someone saw you like this. The back office was only a few feet away. You’d hide there until it passed – it had to pass, right? – and then you’d be fine.

You nearly collapsed against the door, hand fumbling frantically to open it, before you stumbled inside. Using the desk for support, you did your best to keep yourself on your feet, despite the dizziness threatening to take over. Shaking hands desperately clawed at the necklace, gripping it so tight it was sure to leave marks in your palms. It did nothing to ease your racing heart.

Legs nearly collapsed under you when you felt large hands set on your arms. You spun around, eyes wide with panic, only to find Bucky with his hands raised cautiously, worry evident upon his features as he took in your state.

“It’s me, doll,” he soothed, reaching out towards you. “It’s just me. I need you to breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?”

You nodded quickly, desperately, but you couldn’t catch your breath if you tried.

Even through your haze, you could tell he was afraid to touch you, hands just inches from your skin, ready to catch you again if you started to fall. You leaned against the desk, feeling light-headed. You tried to focus on his chest, watch the rise and fall as he breathed, but it was no used. Your grip on the desk was becoming painful. 

“I have something I could try,” Bucky exhaled nervously, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m gonna just do it okay? And if you need me to stop you tell me. Hit me or pinch me or something. Okay, doll?”

The look of uncertainty didn’t have a chance to graze your face before suddenly Bucky’s arms were around you and you were being pulled so tight against his chest it was like he was holding on for dear life. Your cheek against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his cologne and aftershave through hyperventilated breaths, you held your arms down by their sides, feeling too weak to do much of anything else. Your eyes were watering from the exertion.

Bucky was talking to you, trying his best to soothe you as he rubbed careful circles on your back, though you had a hard time making out what he was saying. His chest vibrated as he spoke, his heart beat pounding against your ear, and he readjusted his arms, gathering as much of you as he could against him.

Agonizingly slow, your breathing started to come back down. Sluggish arms found their way around his waist, wrapping themselves around him. He let out a sigh of relief you felt with every inch of your body.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but when he started to pull back, it felt too soon. He clenched his jaw in a nervous smile as he brushed his hands on his jeans.

“You okay now?”

You nodded slowly, too transfixed on the how his body had felt pressed so tightly against yours.

“My, uh, my sister used to get panic attacks when she was a kid,” Bucky said, sitting on the edge of your desk. “That kind of compression used to be the only thing that calmed her down.”

While you were able to breathe again, you found your heart still racing, not enough that it was thudding painfully in your chest, but enough to notice it picked up whenever he was looking at you.

“That was quick thinking,” you said clinically, trying to detach yourself from the thoughts rummaging in your mind.

“What set it off?” he asked, those blue eyes of his studying you carefully.

You folded your arms over your chest, looking away from him. A flush crept into your cheeks. “It was nothing – some loud noise outside. Reminded me of... that night, I guess. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Bucky replied sincerely, warmly, pushing himself off the desk and taking a step closer to you. You stared down at his shoes, brown wingtips sitting under the hem of navy slacks. A soft pressure under your chin, and his fingers lifted your face up to his. “You gotta cut yourself some slack, Y/n. What you saw that night would mess with anyone.” A pause. Then, “has this happened before? Since that night?”

You shrugged, stepping back from him, feeling too exposed under his stare. “Once or twice.” Concern flashed over his features but you waved him off before he could speak. “I’ve been home when it happened and I was able to calm down on my own.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Bucky sighed and you could hear the hurt in his voice.

“Was I supposed to call the cops every time I hear a loud noise or think I see a shadow over my shoulder?” you huffed out defensively. You didn’t even know why you were arguing with him.

“I gave you my card, doll,” Bucky said gingerly, always so patient with you. “I’m not asking you to call 9-1-1, I’m asking you to call me.”

“Why?” you snapped before you could stop yourself. “Why do you care so much? I’m just some witness to a murder that doesn’t even seem to matter since you haven't found a single lead and Hydra doesn’t know a thing about me. It’s been two months, Bucky, you don’t have to keep comin’ here. Your conscious can be clean, ok?”

Bucky paused, furrowing his brow. He was chewing on the inside of his lip, folding his arms over his chest. He adjusted his stance. “If you think I’m coming around because you’re ‘just some witness’, you’re not paying attention.”

Your breath hitched. The way he was looking at you, with such sincerity and a longing in his features he tried so hard to mask, you couldn’t help the knots pulling in your stomach. It was too much, too overwhelming, to have this man you had come to rely on, to expect, to miss when he was gone, to want you for something other than professional gain. He just wanted you.

You swallowed back the thunderous pulsing in your chest and tucked a strand of hair behind you ear. Eyes darting to the ground, you said, “I should get back out there. People are probably wantin’ to know where I went.”

Bucky nodded, running his hand over his mouth though the flicker of disappointment didn’t escape your notice. “Yeah, I should go, too. It’s getting late.”

Brushing past him, you felt the tips of his fingers graze yours though you quickly pulled away, too afraid of the electricity jolting through you. You held open the door for him, and watched as he sauntered out, a tired look about him. You made your way back to the bar as you quickly attended to the rush of people waiting for you to refill their glasses, but your eyes were held solely on Bucky as he picked up his half-filled glass and threw back the remaining liquid. He set a few dollars on the counter and stalked off towards the exit.

You did your best to ignore the burning ache in your chest.

part four

tags ✨@sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @lumar014 / @alohafromhell1 / @bucksandroses / @teardropcup / @beautiful-aravis / @me-chi / @somewereinthegalaxi / @marvelfansworld / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @yourwonderbelle / @fairislesheets / @brokeinflight / @verygraphicink / @lollipopdomination / @emotionallysalty / @forsaken-letters /  @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @ashlieadelia / @ladymelissastark / @panic-naran / @breatheeagainnnn 

(strikethrough means tumblr wont let me tag you!)

[bubblyani]

Temptation

(Freddie Jackson x Reader)

A Freddie Jackson One Shot

Request by: @97freaknik

Rating: Mature (NSFW)

Warnings: May-December Relationship, Swearing, Sexual Content.

Author’s Note: This was one unexpected sort of fic. And so the same applies to the ending. Hope y’all enjoy!!

The chilled cola managed to moisten your tongue and cool your throat with each sip you took. Summer had finally announced it’s arrival in London, and all seemed to have noticed it. “So...what did he say?” asked Kim Jackson, your best friend as she folded her legs on the settee. 

Upon your first meeting, you made a great friend out of Kim in the very first year at University. The two of you grew so close, winning you the privilege of becoming a usual visitor at her home during the first summer break.

Shrugging your shoulders casually, you replied, “Well he said he liked me...” you continued, a confident aura surrounding you as you sat on the armchair across from her, “...he wanted to get a drink with me or...whatever”

The excitement in Kim’s eyes did reflect in yours. And she was surprised. “And...?” She asked. You curled your lip with squinted eyes. “Well.. what do you think?” You scoffed in an unimpressed tone. Kim laughed, shaking her head, “Y/N...you’re mental!” She exclaimed, “Harry is such a great bloke..”

You clicked your tongue, taking another sip, “...maybe ...but meh! Not my type...” “Oh yeah?” Your friend began, moving forward, “Then what is your type?” “I don’t know...” you laughed in a carefree manner, only to have that laughter die down slow. Especially the moment you saw him enter the kitchen.

Liar liar! you knew your type, you thought. 

Suddenly, you cleared your throat, “What about you? What’s your type?” You asked her in kind.

Kim may have started talking at that moment. She may be going on about her type in detail. But it seemed quite difficult to keep your eyes on her when he was around.

The tattoos inked in his chiseled body managed to get it’s spotlight with the help of his wife beater and jeans. Plus, the chained necklace that adorned his neck and the bracelet that accompanied his wrist completed his ensemble. As the bottle cap flew out of the chilled beer, Freddie Jackson closed the refrigerator door. And there you were, staring at him from across the room, unable to control the heat that emitted strongly from your cheeks. For a second you realized his eyes caught yours. Your eyes widened.

Were you dreaming?

“Y/N?” You felt the coke can slip from your grasp the moment Kim’s loud voice brought you back. Gasps exited out of both of you as the remaining soda from the can spilt all over your top.

“Ah! Uhhh....” Struggling. You were struggling with words, bending down to pick up the now-emptied can.

Where did that confident aura run off to?

“What happened? You okay?” Kim asked, catching Freddie’s attention. As you saw him walk towards the settee from the corner of your eye, you really did not know how to answer that.

You merely laughed, nervously, for you left to do nothing but. The cheeks grew warmer the moment Freddie stood by the settee.

“Kim, What’s wrong ?” He asked.

“Y/N spilled her coke...”

“Aww...that’s too fucking bad, love..let me get ya another” he said gently, looking at you before moving towards the fridge.

Kim smiled at him,“Thanks dad”

Forcing a tight smile, You exhaled silently yet deeply. For reality struck you again with a bitter reminder.

You were desiring for your best friend’s father.

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

You knew it. From the very first encounter a few weeks ago, it was sealed in your body, mind and soul.

If it weren’t for his heroic rescue that one night at dinner, you surely would have been responsible for the damage of several plates dropped out of your hands. But in your defense, the slightest touch against his body turned you in to the clumsy self you longed to hide away.

“Easy there love, wouldn’t want to get hurt now, yeah?” Completely and unexpectedly mute, you swore you have made a fool out of yourself. But given the expression, it seemed he was quite amused to meet his eldest daughter’s best friend.

Ever since then, forming a fascination for him was out of your control. It was unbelievable how he fathered three children, including one your own age.

Fascination did not last. For it turned  into undeniable attraction as time passed. He was handsome, You couldn’t help it. In fact,  he was the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. At least it seemed that way for you. 

With eyes like those, he had perfected his gaze to be something unforgettable. With lips so beautiful, they managed to haunt you even in your dreams. So much so you’d long to feel them on yours. Yes, you were fantasizing about them. 

Kissing him would be an instant response the moment you’d see him in the midst of your sleep. And when you do, you would even find yourself waking up feeling satisfied, yet hungrier at the same time.

There would be some nights so daring, your hand would go so far as to explore yourself with nothing but him in mind. It was that sinful, and you knew it. Sometimes that hand would retract, but sometimes it will not. Because honestly, nobody needed to know.

The number of times you found yourself involuntarily longing to see him , could be countless. Silly excuses to meet your best friend, things suddenly forgotten or left behind. Butterflies suddenly would exist in your stomach every time you set foot at her place.

But somehow, those butterflies suddenly evolve into small earth shattering quakes in the heart when you realized he was not there at times. But whenever he was, whenever he conversed with you in short, whenever he smiled, and shared jokes, or even took your side when Kim teases you, you felt attraction progress into complete infatuation.

In your defense, you felt he treated you differently. Sometimes you found yourself wondering if he knew your little secret. For those gazes would turn intense in a flash as if. That was when you knew, how far your feelings have gone.

All this was unrequited of course, you knew it was never a possibility. After all, he was Kim’s father. And this was a secret you could never share with her. And being her father meant something else as well. Kim’s mother, Jackie Jackson, always had been less welcoming towards you and you could never figure out why. But you could tell there was not much love between her and him. Even if there was, it was forced.

I could do better, you’d find yourself thinking.

I could love him better. And still you knew, this was never possible. 

But even with the bitter truth staring right at you in the face, your desire for him grew stronger by the day. Which included the longing to win him over somehow. It was silent, secretive, and deadly.

Even when you dug deeper, and heard stories about him, you were not frightened easy. Even with the guns, the drugs, the women, the money, you did not flinch.He was indeed  Freddie Jackson, the notorious gangster.

And you were still infatuated by him.

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

“Kim! Kim!!!!”

With no answer from the bell, you knocked on the door frantically. Another day, and another silly excuse.

Finally, you heard footsteps approaching the door. The pacing made your heart skip a beat. You knew those steps, you had it carved in your mind with such detail.

“Well Hello Y/N...” Freddie Jackson greeted you softly, flashing his naughty smile as he opened the door. Wearing a printed short sleeved shirt, he appeared to look more handsome than ever before. You felt your mouth turn dry.

“Uh Hi...” you began, “...Mr. Jackson ...” involuntarily smiling back, you suddenly were short of breath “is um..Kim at home?”

“Ah! yeah sure, come in. I’ll go fetch her”

The living room was filled with his scent, mixed with a hint of tobacco. It made you feel at home. The record player called out for you, begging you to admire it, and the music it played. The music soothed you. It aroused you. Pressing your thighs together, you gingerly proceeded to roll up the waistband of your pleated short skirt, making it shorter than it was before.

“Ah...sorry love but...” you jumped by the sound of Freddie’s voice from afar, “...it looks like the family is out” his voice echoed ,“...sorry about that”   “Oh no...” you blurt out,”it’s alright” chuckling, you added, “I can wait...” As if by chance, there you were, alone with him. Finally.

“Brilliant...” he replied with a cheery tone. The desperation in you thrived, tempting you to roll up your skirt higher until the hem almost covered your buttocks. You knew exactly what you were doing.

The moment you heard him approach the living room, you turned back to the record player. “Wow...” you began, confidence taking center stage as you bent forward to examine the record player “..this sounds so familiar” The humid air caressed your inner thighs. You knew he stood there, quite noticeably as you heard him exhale deeply with a chuckle of satisfaction by the sight of your curiosity and ‘unintended’ exposure. With a gleeful gasp, your eyes widened.

 “Pink Floyd?” You asked, turning to him the moment ‘Hey You’ began to play. “Yeah yeah...not bad, love” he chuckled, settling himself on the settee, “Pink Floyd man I am, you know” 

“That’s great...I love them too” you said excitedly, clearly stemming from the discovery of a mutual interest. For a moment, he was not Freddie Jackson, your best friend’s father. For a moment he was Freddie Jackson, the man you longed to impress. The man you wished you could seduce.

But suddenly, you didn’t know what to say anymore. There never was a moment with just the two of you alone before. Freddie did not utter a word. Truthfully, he seemed more occupied watching you with complete fascination instead. The way he stared, thoughts may have racing wild. Still you felt powerless, you didn’t want to come off as boring.

“Tattoos!”You accidentally blurted out, making him raise his eyebrows, “Uh your tattoos...they are pretty wicked” you said, clearing your throat.

“Oh yeah?” He said, sitting upright, “You’ve seen them?”

“Well, only a bit..” you replied nonchalantly, hands tied behind your back, “not...all” with a hint of shyness, walking over to him.

Forming his mischievous grin, Freddie began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt buttons, while forming a whisper, “Fancy a closer look?-”

“Yeah!” You paused, surprised at your over  enthusiasm. “Well...go on then...” he purred, gesturing you to come sit, patting his thigh as an invitation.

Normally, if any other older man would suggest this, you’d furrow you’re brows with disgust. But this was no ordinary man.

Carefully, as he sat back, you settled across his lap. With buttocks and upper thighs brushing against his lap , you were secretly gleeful. You held your breath, as he took your hand in his, guiding your fingers over his exposed chest. Pulling his vest down, he watched you observe the intricate ink imprinted on his skin.

This was a dream, you thought.

“Wow...it’s beautiful” you breathed, for it was true. “Yeah it is...” he said, his eyes washing all over you. “Rock n Roll...” he continued, resting his other hand on your bare thigh, “...tattoos...” he added, voice booming to send tremors through your body, “...bad boys certainly tickle your fancy, innit?”

“I suppose...that’s my type” you said, grasping courage to look at him. And his face was merely a few centimeters away. “Oh yeah?” He asked, leaning in. His nose brushing against yours. “Yeah...” you replied, feeling that familiar heat emit from your cheeks in contrast to the chill his rings provided to your bare thighs.

So so close, it was your deepest, darkest fantasy come to life. And you asked yourself, what would you do?

Before you could answer, you felt him move forward, permitting you to freely do the same as both of your lips found each other.

It was not a dream anymore, You really were kissing Freddie Jackson. With the intense weight of his lips, you could tell he hungered for this. He knew. He certainly knew. It excited you. It motivated you. Taking his hand from your thigh, you felt brave. With no hesitation, you placed it over your right breast.

Except he took it away in an instant.

Slightly alarmed, you continued kissing him, yet with concern in mind. Was he playing with you? But when you felt that hand hurriedly pull your sweatshirt out of your skirt, you knew all was well. When that hand dug inside to unhook your bra, it got much better. Especially when that clever hand slithered under the loose undergarment to palm your bare breast with ease, sending new waves of pleasure through you.

The way he savored it showed in his hums on your lips. And it drove you insane. You longed to hear more. Wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, you pulled him closer, moaning into the kiss.

There were so many things you wanted to ask him. So many things you wanted to hear from him. But at the same time, the last thing you wanted to do, was to part your lips from his luscious ones.

It came as a surprise as his hand left your breast, taking a firm hold of your knee, spreading your legs wide open. He did not take this lightly, and it was confirmed the moment his fingers began to stroke you. All the way from your pubic area right downwards, over the thin material of your panties. His fingers tickled you, they aroused you. Lifting yourself up with impatience, your lips parted his just so he could pull your panties down until it bunched around your knees.

“Fuck...” he inhaled pleasingly, peeping down at the sight of your exposed womanhood, “Look how wet you are...” he said, looking back at you. You blushed, unable to contain yourself  by his glance. But when you felt him insert two digits into your dampened slit, the blushing indeed seemed like child’s play.

  Hungry for your lips once more, Freddie resumed kissing you. All the while his fingers continued to enter and exit out of you in steady rhythm. You may be moaning, you may have been wincing in response. But you did not fail to cling on to him as it was your dear life.

Few minutes have passed, and still his lips felt fresh on yours. The feeling of a climax felt close, you were almost there. However, you groaned in desperation when his fingers suddenly left your opening. Pulling away, you wanted to beg. But his words stopped you.

“Come on...” Freddie breathed, his face looking serious as he frantically unbuckled his pants. A loud gasp left you the moment his manhood sprung out free from all constrains of clothing. You always thought  a man like him should be well endowed. And he was, indeed. Strong, firm and thick. With your eyes fully indulging it, you were reminded of your inner walls drenched with need. Clearly, you were impatient to feel him inside you. 

Whimpers, soft whimpers overflowed your lips as you sunk into his erect shaft. But like a perfect piece of a puzzle, it fitted in so well. And like one perfect unit, you held on to him as you began to move. The pleasure was simply indescribable. It was unbelievable. It was better than you imagined. In your dreams. In your fantasies.

Overwhelmed with arousal, you were at a trance; Grabbing his hands, you guided them back inside your shirt, placing them over your bare breasts once again. For you wanted to give nothing but your all. No holding back.

Freddie growled, pinching and pulling your nipples in response before he kissed you again. This time with much fervor. Pain infused with pleasure in equal measure, you moved faster. Connected by lips and bodies, You moved and you moved. Until your body gave in, until he pulled himself out and release was finally met.

All so quietly, and discreetly. Just as this sudden but eventual union was.

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

(Few days later)

You may have been walking, taking strides across  the pavement, but your head was off somewhere else.

As if a record was on repeat, you couldn’t help but relive that wonderful moment with him. Nothing else occupied your thoughts. Nothing except for this. So much that you wondered whether you had to attend confession. You longed for your body to remember every minute. Every minute Freddie Jackson claimed you his on that settee.

“You alright lass?”

You blinked. Your father’s voice brought you back to reality. For a moment you really did forget he was there, accompanying you over to the convenient store on his way to work.

“Yeah...I’m fine” you said, stopping by the shop. Of course you were. But it was a state of mind you dared not share. How could you?

“Alright...” your father began, “I’ll see you in the evening then...”

Your eyes automatically caught the sight of a familiar face a few feet away. It almost managed to distract you.

Clearing your throat, you smiled. “Yes dad”

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

Entering the store, you suddenly forgot what you needed to buy. For your breathing grew fast, for that face that was oh-so-familiar felt quite nearby.

Fixing your hair casually, you greeted the store clerk before strutting out. You heard footsteps behind you as you heading into the abandoned alleyway. And for the first time you were not afraid. Quite the opposite to be frank.

The sudden tug of your hand made you turn with a happy gasp as Freddie Jackson pushed you against the brick wall, kissing you with immense passion.

When he pinned your hands above your head, when his desperate hands roamed about to fondle your breasts generously; when they lastly moved lower to pull you up from your  buttocks, you felt as if you were being rewarded. Rewarded for keeping this secret.

“Fucking hell Y/N...” Freddie breathed, “I missed you...”

You could not believe your ears. It was only a few days.  You were in bliss. He was your infatuation, and here he was in full reciprocation. It was heavenly.

You smiled into his lips, “Me too Mr. Jackson...ah!“ you cried softly, as he gently nibbled your earlobe. 

“Uh huh...wrong answer” he chuckled.

“Sorry...Freddie” you corrected yourself, giving a shy smile. Calling him by his first name seemed arousing enough. Giggles followed soon after as he kissed you once again. Escaping into pleasure in secret was the challenge, but you certainly enjoyed it.

“Wait...” You said, pulling him away. You swore you felt someone watch you.

“What is it?”

“Mmm...nothing I just...never mind” shaking your head, you casually pulled him back to you, never tired of his lips on yours. Moaning into the kiss, Freddie kept his gaze affixed on you.

“Tonight ...” he reminded.

“Can’t wait....” you consented.

Hands finally parting, you excitedly made your way out of the alleyway as Freddie headed to the opposite direction. Your head was up on the clouds, anything felt possible.

Till you felt a tug on your hand once again. You chuckled, throwing your head back as you turned back.

“Ah..again? Fred-”

Except you felt a lump in your throat,  the moment you realized it was not Freddie.

But it was your father instead. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(The next morning) 

“Right...later Jimmy!”

“Right Fred...” With a small wave to his cousin, Freddie started the engine and began driving.

Morning had dawned, and Freddie was out and about driving. Although he could not help but involuntarily furrow his brows. And he knew why. He just did not want to let it get to him.

Except the reason just passed him by in a flash.

Hitting the brakes with a screech, Freddie looked out from his window.

“Y/N!...” He called out to you, “What the f-“

Pausing in an instant. Standing in the bus stop, you suddenly looked up to find his car parked in front. Your eyes were red, not to mention your nose. You did not respond nor were you least surprised. Instead of bombarding you with questions, Freddie decided to take a different approach.

“Get in, I’ll drop you home...” he said, “Come on...” insisting with a soft tone, he waited until you finally did.

Even though you lived close by, the drive felt like eternity. Freddie could not comprehend your behavior, unable to read as you kept staring at the car window.

“Y/N...babe...” he uttered softly. Yet you did not respond. He felt helpless.

Distance did not lie, as the car finally arrived at the destination. He heard you take in a deep breath, with hands tightly clenching on your dress.

“Y/N...don’t fuck with me babe...what’s wrong?” The concern arose in Freddie’s voice. When finally he saw your turn your head towards him. Eyes almost watering, you smiled warmly: “I love you Freddie” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I love you Freddie”

You never thought those words would leave your lips before you kissed him so passionately. It was so spontaneous but it felt right. You weren’t embarrassed to the slightest to climb up and straddle him in the car. As a matter of fact, You wished there was nothing called public decency. You wished he’d take you then and there. You wished you could stay with him wrapped around him naked.

All because you loved him.

Pulling away, you finally moved back to your seat.

“Feeling better?” You heard him ask. Looking at him, you saw genuine concern filled in his eyes. Something you never saw before.

“Yeah...I am” you replied, aware of how swollen your lips have become. Giving his hand a tight squeeze, you smiled to your fullest.

“Bye Freddie...”

As you got out of his car, you just wished he knew what you really went through. With every kiss you kissed in there, you wished he knew of your demise that occurred yesterday. With every touch, you wished he sensed your pain. The pain you had to endure when forced to be dealt with by your father; the harsh reality, reminding you of the gravity of your situation. With your sudden confession of love, you wished he knew the choice you were given. You badly wished he could give you the answers. And save you like a white knight.

But you had no regrets. Not even one.  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(Few days later)

The chilly wind that exited out of the refrigerator cooled Freddie as he reached in to grab a beer. With the first gulp, his eyes caught the sight of his daughter. Sitting alone on the settee, she sipped on her coke. Closing the refrigerator door, he realized what was wrong here.

She sat there alone.

“Kim! Babe...what’s wrong?”  He asked from across the room.

“Nothing Dad” Kim  replied, head unturned, body unmoved as she stared down into the can. Freddie knew denial when he saw it. Especially with his daughter.

“Come on babe...” he said, setting the beer down on the pantry before walking up to her...”...don’t lie”

Sighing, Kim turned to him.

“I miss Y/N...”

“Yeah?” He asked, slumping down on the settee next to her, ”Well why isn’t she here then? Shall we give her a ring?”

To be quite honest, Freddie wanted to , for he did not see you for a few days.

Kim looked at him.  “She’s gone, Dad”

His eyes widened slightly. “What? What do you mean?”

“She had to move ...”Kim replied, her tone growing  sadder “...but why so suddenly? I don’t understand...It’s not fair” putting her head down, her tone grew softer. Freddie clicked his tongue.Suddenly those red eyes of yours, the silence you bore made complete sense.  

“Awww c’mere...” he said, slowly pulling his daughter in to an embrace. “I miss her dad” he heard her mumble into his shirt. “I know you do, babe” he said.  holding her tighter, hoping he could cover the little wound that involuntarily formed in his heart.

For it was evident that lustful Temptation had progressed into something more. But to the misfortune of two specific people, hope had slipped out of their hands.

With all that what happened, all Freddie wanted to say in return was one thing:

I miss her too. ———————————————————————

Check my MASTERLIST for more.

[for-bucks-sake]

An Apron is Just a Cape On Backwards (Not a Superhero).

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word count: 6K. This is a whole beast. I hope that’s not too bad.  Warnings: all the fluff!, some angst, smut!! (threesome, DP, fingering, attempt thigh riding.) ,some bad language, LOVE. And for the mad people who haven’t seen it yet: Endgame spoilers.  Summary: Everything was lost, but then it wasn’t. Reader, Steve and Bucky have to make up for lost time. Soon they find it not as easy as they thought, especially because one of them didn’t actually lose anything.  A/N: Some guy was annoying the shit out of me, trashing Steve and Bucky’s friendship, so I cheered myself up by writing a second part that literally no one asked for (also I might’ve written this only bc I’m obsessed with naming my fics weird shit). So this is part 2 of Missing Is a Recurring Theme! Hope you like it! (Also, I am a whore for artist!Steve.) **If anyone is interested, I actually have some spare time, so...Requests are open!

Gif is not mine.

“Hot Stuff Coming Through?” Y/n squinted to read the printed words on Bucky’s ridiculous apron, realization hitting her and she threw her head back, ringing laugh pleasantly filling the room, “when did you get this?”

Bucky was the only one standing in the kitchen. No sign of Steve. His growing hair was tied up on the top of his head in a failed bun, miserable strands of hair escaping it only to be coated with sweat and unidentified powders. Somehow, he managed to already severely stain the black apron and the breathable black t-shirt he wore underneath, spatula in one hand and a knife in the other.

“We got it yesterday,” he said innocent enough, flexing his impressive biceps in different poses, showing off his great new purchase. Y/n breathed, shaking her head, “Wait until you see Steve’s, and yours, of course! Which reminds me, get out of the kitchen!.” “You called me here!” She protested, hitting Bucky with the book she held; Oh, how she wished it wasn’t a paperback. “We’re working on a surprise for you, Darling. You have to keep your eyes closed, or at least stand with your back to us.” “Sure thing, Hot Stuff.” She chuckled, turning around just in time to face Steve going through the kitchen door, wearing a nearly identical apron, clear bag in his hand.

“I got the colors but I’m not sure we have enough blu-“ startled, he stopped talking when he saw her, just in time to hear Bucky’s loud demands he shuts the fuck up. “Colors? What are you two planning? It’s not even my birthday.” Steve gifted her with one of his loop side smiles, “I only said it to throw you off, sweetheart.”

He went around her and passed the plastic bag to the metal arm reaching for him in a sleek motion, pausing for a second above her head indecisively before  kissing the top of it. Bucky’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

Y/n touched Steve’s shoulder as a response, brushing the bare spot the white fabric of his shirt didn’t cover, it was somehow quieter than before.

Bucky cleared his throat, “hypothetically speaking, if we wanted to bake a cake.” Y/n opened her mouth, but was cut when he continued, “hypothetically! Do we really need to add eggs? Back in the day only flour and water were enough.”

“OH MY GOD.” She groaned at Steve’s amused face,

“So…Is that a yes?” Bucky asked again, looking genuinely lost,

“I’m out of here!” Y/n almost sang, stressing the the last words. She left the room, unlocking her phone while imagining the horrors said room is going to go through.

She stepped back, pulling herself closer to the kitchen space, but never entering - only her head visible - “I sent you a link, there are thousands of recipes for cakes. Just choose one.”

They looked grateful, hands petting their pockets, already looking for their phones, “thank you, doll”

She nodded, almost leaving again; “you sure you don’t need help?” She asked on a second thought, blinking and bringing her arms to her sides,

“We’ll be okay,” Bucky said, “besides, this is supposed to be a surprise, c’mon, let us do something nice for you for once.”

She bit her bottom lip and sighed, “Ok, whatever you want.” She stepped out of the kitchen again, “Just, please don’t paint the kitchen with food coloring, it’s going to be a hell to clean up.”

“I told you, there would be no colors involved!” Steve yelled after her, followed by a not so subtle snort from Bucky.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie!” Y/n fired back, making herself comfortable on the sofa, opening the book at the marked page. She heard Bucky laughing again, this time joined by his partner in crime,

“Well, good thing we’re not ones anymore!”

Domestic really suited them, she then thought, and happiness might make her explode.

-

“Stevie, this is…I’m at a loss of  words. It’s amazing.” Bucky always did love to praise him, all the way back to the 20th century. He could feel him, soft man inside soft clothes, behind him. Breath warm and light on his neck, making the small hairs erect from the proximity.

“It’s not even finished yet, you really think she’s gonna like it?” Steve eyed his work, melting into Bucky’s touch as he wrapped solid arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder and humming into his skin.

“I know she will.”

Steve shifted his body, turning around to meet a beautiful pair of eyes, today more grey than blue; like ocean skies early in an April morning. It’s a little game he likes to play with himself - what did Bucky’s eye color resemble today? In all the years he played, he didn’t get the same answer twice.

“What?” The skies in his eyes chuckled along when Steve stared too long, the skin around Bucky’s eyes wrinkled, a pleasant reminder of how his life had changed, laughter so acquainted with his face it decided to leave a permanent mark.

“Nothin’.” Steve smiled at the thought, feeling the hands around his middle tightened, “I just love you.”

Bucky licked his lips, gaze falling quickly to a pink, delicious mouth he could never resist. Their breaths were heavy, warm, mixing in the small space between them until Steve reached for his hair, resting his elbows on Bucky’s broad shoulders as he found his bun, fingers digging into it, messing it up impossible more, strands of hair falling to frame his face.

“Steve,” Bucky swallowed, nose brushing against nose, so close to him, he spoke into Steve’s own lips.

“Yeah?” He breathed, teeth nibbling at Bucky’s bottom lip, beard grazing his smooth jaw,

“Kiss me.”

Their mouths connected, Steve’s hands still in Bucky’s hair, knotting and pulling harder, forcing him closer; Bucky gasped, head tilted right as he found a better access, his tongue moving slowly over Steve’s lips, sucking on the corner of his mouth. Steve panted Bucky’s name, releasing one of his hands from his hair and bringing it to cup his jaw; right hand pulling his chin up, allowing Steve to trace his tongue on the warmth of Bucky’s, pressing his teeth lightly into his lower lip. 

They smelled like baking, with the faintest hint of sweat. Bucky’s pulp lips sugary to the taste, probably from all the bites he snuck into his mouth, ignoring Steve’s protests.

Metal hand soothed up and down his back, chilly material still unusual to the skin even through a t-shirt. Steve leaned his back against the counter, parting the kiss with a wet sound. Bucky smiled lazily, eyes hooded  as he nuzzled his face into Steve’s neck, fluttering kisses into his most sensitive spots,

“God.” He signed, brushing lips against the sharp edge of Steve’s jawline, “I miss your beard.”

-

Screams from the kitchen was all she heard before she threw her book to the side, cursing everything in the world she had to abandon the last ten pages unread.

Muffled swearing, a terrified “Steve.”, a burnt small and when she entered the kitchen, grey smoke.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, catching her breath but still very much alarmed.

“Nothing!” One of them said in an unnaturally high squeak she couldn’t recognize. Steve cleared his throat, “nothing.” He said again, more composed, fanning furiously the smoking oven along with Bucky.

Once the loud beeping sound stopped - smell still strong and unpleasant in their noses, but the black screen died down - they faced her, the epitome of innocence with their boyish smiles, posture hunched as they fiddled with their hands, looking astonishingly alike.

“We’re sorry.” Steve said, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to look up, “it’s m’fault. I was so busy paint- working on something else I got distracted-“

“No no, we both know it’s on me, I should’ve-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Y/n said, arms crossed against her chest as she cut them both sharply, they could be so serious sometimes. “All you did was burn half the kitchen! Lighten up guys.” She continued before they had a chance to speak, “there are no faults, I’m not mad.” She smiled, as to convince them she was telling the truth.

Both men exhaled at the same time, relieved the mess they made wasn’t gonna get them in trouble. “I can’t be mad at you, c’mon.” Y/n said wholeheartedly, bringing her arms to the side and walking forward, nudging their shoulders as to cheer them up, “I’m just upset you worked all day for nothing.” She sighed, searching for their hands, she took Bucky’s metallic palm in her right, and Steve’s in her left.

“It’s not entirely for nothing.” Bucky motioned, cupping her face, calloused flesh holding delicate features. He smiled at her, then at Steve, standing inside their impromptu circle made of limbs- “Now,” a dopey grin smudge his red lips, looking proud of himself, “we can get pizza!”

-

“You seemed a little too keen on throwing out all the food you’ve worked on, don’t you think? And look at the road!”

Bucky chuckled, stirring his gaze from her to the black sedan in front of them, “I’d much rather look at you, sugar.” He teased in a sickeningly sweet voice, y/n rolled her eyes, pretending to puke. “No one is moving anyway.” He hit the wheel in frustration, she swore she heard it creaks, “and for your question, darl’,” Bucky looked at her again, “I am extremely,” he stressed, “bummed out it didn’t work. And I mean EXTREMELY. Besides, it wasn’t the main surprise, Steve’s still working on it at home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, gently touching his jaw and guiding it to face forward; he opened his mouth, tilting his head down to try and bite her finger, he grazed it with his front teeth and kissed it. Her smile turned to a loud laugh as a very enthusiastic driver honked his horn off behind them, universal way of signaling someone to fucking drive. Bucky didn’t have to look to see the “I told you so” all over her face.

“Shut up.” He muttered under his breath,

She pursed her smiling lips, looking innocent as ever, “I didn’t say anything.”

-

They drove in silence, Bucky hummed to the beat of her fingers drumming on the window.

“Is something wrong?” He said suddenly, making y/n jolt herself up.

“Is there something that should be wrong?” She asked, confused by the unforeseen question,

He sighed heavily, “with you and Steve…I mean.”

Oh shit. “I don’t think so, no.” She swallowed, picking at her fingernails.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie.” Damn them, both of them and their way of knowing exactly what she feels.

“I’m not a superhero.”

“You are to me.” He said quietly, both looking intensely at the road.

“I’m not lying,” she exhaled, bringing her abused nails to her lips, biting, “it’s just… Everything is good, you know? Great. I love you, I love you both more than ever.” She shifted in her sit again, visibly uncomfortable.

“We never talked about this.” Her voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper, “I mean really talked about this. When you were gone…it was hard to keep going like everything was normal, so we somehow adjusted to a new normal, our normal. And then you came back, which I’m grateful for, everyday.” She bit her bottom lip, bringing her legs closer to her lap.

“I wake up and I see you, I see him, and I want to cry. Cry because I never thought I would be this lucky again. But when you came back we had to discover the old normal again, remember it, face the damage our previous poor way of coping did to us. Five years is a long time, Buck.”

She was holding her breath, Bucky could tell, the way she was holding her thoughts up until now.

He often forgot. He hated the feeling of memories disintegrating from his grip, in small, unnoticeable bits that he worked so hard scraping together. Most of the things come back to him eventually, the good and the bad. But this was a different type of forgetting; this time he had nothing to remember.

Sometimes it just hit him, when he watched them. How everything so drastically changed when he was gone. He saw it in the dark circles around her eyes, never seemed to fade or to brightened, no matter how much time had gone or how well rested she was. Sometimes it was in the new crease on Steve’s forehead, a grounding reminder that they, too, can run out of time. Sometimes he saw it in their faints attempts to wake up early for morning runs, can’t keep up even when they do. Sometimes it was in the hesitation in Steve’s eyes, every time he came in contact with her skin, almost afraid she doesn’t want his touch anymore.

For Bucky there was nothing to remember, but for them- there was too much to forget.

And he hated it, blaming himself in true Bucky Barnes fashion. Like he had any say on the matter. Sometime, he thinks that if he had, he’d tell them to move on.

Bucky’s life were hard on him, cruel, even - but they also taught him that time was invaluable. Precious seconds and moments had to be clenched on to, not be wasted, not be overlooked; that’s how he knew they should’ve let go. Instead of latching onto the memory of him, distant fading version of  the man he is in their minds, they could’ve started over, make their new normal a permanent one. They could’ve learned to love each other without him. They could’ve healed.

In a greedy, ugly pit inside the dark depths of his heart he was glad they didn’t, selfishness getting the best of him, thinking he might have killed himself if he woke up only to realize he doesn’t have anyone to wake up to.

Five years is a long time.

He gripped the wheel harder with two hands, nearly creating small valleys in the shape of his fingers, “He loves you.” He hushed, in a way that was almost intimate, like a secret.

“I know.”

“Sometimes I think he is going to break. He lost me so many times. Too many times in one lifetime. If he didn’t have you…He would’ve.”

“I would’ve, too.” Y/n whispered,

“I know.” He said softly, body loosen up as he spoke, “you kept each other together, you saved each other from falling apart. That’s love.”

She stayed quiet as Bucky found a parking spot, squeezing the car in a tight fit.

Her mind was roaming, she had a lot to think about.

“Let’s go?”

-

“God I missed this place.” Bucky beamed at the smell, his entire demeanor changes as they walked into the small pizzeria. Fresh dough was baking, a game was on on the beat up TV screen near the freezers, fluorescent lights planting small stars inside his eyes. Suddenly, y/n felt different, too.

They found their way between the tables, an old woman with a child were sitting to their right, a young couple to their left, some elderly men yelled at the television, heating up in a meaningless argument over the players.

They reached the cashier, first in line. His eyes looked tired, yet he treated them with a smile accompanied with a cheerful “what can I get ya?”,not letting the long shift get to him. “We’d like two large pizzas please, one with extra cheese…” Bucky’s voice faded as she dived deeper into her thoughts. His left hand was light on the small of her back, chilling the narrow strip of skin revealed when her t-shirt rode up.

Y/n looked around, tuning down the talking and the noise even more, only to catch a glimpse of a familiar face, now very less bearded, somehow younger looking. A small towel in a soft yellow hung from his shoulder, and the friendly smile that was always there didn’t disappoint, directed to her yet again. He nodded as their gazes crossed, an undisputed spark of recognition floating inside his eyes as he glanced quickly at Bucky.

The old man didn’t stay much longer, responding to the loud “dad!” calls from the back by returning quickly, not before he caught y/n nodding back, latching Bucky closer.

-

They drove in silence. Y/n trying to balance the square boxes on her lap as Bucky allowed himself to steal a slice, taking a bite every time they stopped at a red light.

“This is,” he announced with his mouth full, defying the quiet, “the best pizza ever!”

She chuckled, tightening her grip around the sides of the steaming carton, “save the declarations for Steve, I don’t really care for it either way.”

“You have to decide which side are you on!” Bucky said, finishing and swallowing his bite, looking at her, “playing both sides isn’t going to work any longer baby.”

“ROAD!” She grunted, momentarily losing her balance and falling forward, almost covering her entire sit with cheese and sauce.

“Y/n? You okay?” Bucky’s voice was concerned, and he was looking at her, again.

“I’m fine! Stop looking at me!” She moved, adjusting to a more comfortable position,

“C’mon now, you know I can drive us safely with my eyes closed.”

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had a lot of practice, too?” She scuffed,

“As a matter of fact,” he tensed, smiling sadly, “I have.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive, and Bucky didn’t stir his eyes from the highway.

-

“Time for the surprise!.” Bucky announced after they sat down, eating wordlessly except from his occasional blissful moans, and Steve’s grumpy noises of disgust.

Y/n looked down at him, baffled. Her hands paused their continuant motion in the past twenty minutes. He sat between her legs, hard feelings long forgotten - placated by tender twining of fingers through his hair; chipped nails gently scratching his scalp and slowly descending to the top of his shoulders.

Steve looked up as well, tossing his pepperoni slice back to the box, willingly abandoned. “Sure. I’ll go get it.”

Y/n glanced at Steve, immediately bringing her gaze down to Bucky again, “C’mon, you really shouldn’t have.”

They both dismissed her, getting up and disappearing in the kitchen.

Y/n followed them with her gaze, despite her protests she was giddy with excitement, what it was didn’t matter - the thought of how hard they worked on it all day was enough to make her happy with whatever they made.

Blond head emerged from the room first, quicker than she thought, followed by Bucky- their hands bearing gifts;

Steve held three aprons, and what looked like a tray with a knife on it, laying next to something that was covered, she couldn’t see what it was.

Gently pushing the nearly empty pizza boxes, Steve placed the tray on the table, tossing each the matching clothes.

“Are we really gonna wear them?” Hers was different, printed colors all over it, and even in its folded state she had a vague idea what was on it.

“Open it!” Bucky clapped after he finished tying his behind his back. He was a little too enthusiastic. She caught a glimpse of Steve smiling conspicuously, can’t keep a straight face as she unfolded the apron, revealing a picture of a very detailed, hairy belly. Rolls that seemed like they were acquired by abusing the use of beer, and a pair of man boobs that horrifiedly were too similar to her own for her liking.

Both men howled with laughter, can’t contain themselves any longer when she put it on.

“Do you like it?” Bucky snickered, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.

“You know what?” She raised an eyebrow, checking herself out, “It’s kinda growing on me.” How unbelievable it was that technically, those men were over a hundred years old.

“Good.” Steve tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably, “because you’re never, you’re never taking this off.”

“Oh, never? Not even for…?” Y/n bit her lips suggestively, looking at them as they looked at each other. She was just teasing, getting them riled up as a payback. She was trying to be funny, but their expressions weren’t as playful.

She stayed in her place, untying the ridiculous apron, unbuttoning her jeans and letting it fall down to her hips.

That was quick, she thought as they walked towards her in unison, trapping her between them and the couch.

Bucky pushed down the denim, letting her step out of it while he sat, parting his legs and pulling her down for a kiss.

Steve tangled his long fingers in her hair, smoothly pressing her against Bucky’s lips, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth; Bucky groaned, hoisting her up on his lap, desperately seeking more friction. His metal arm clutched her waist with a force she knew was going to leave bruises, his other hand was holding her head in place, replacing Steve as he began to kiss her neck, sucking at the skin until it was red and angry. He smirked when she cried out, breaking the kiss only for Bucky to pull her back in. Steve licked at the ruptured blood vessels, soothing them with his tongue before he moved to a new patch of skin.

Y/n gripped Bucky’s shoulder, dire for even the slightest relief, grinding against his clothed crotch, using him to keep her balance. She was suddenly stopped when his arm held her hips steady, not allowing her to move.

“Uh, uh sweetheart,” She heard Steve rasping in her ear, biting at her earlobe, making her squirm under him, “you’re not getting off that easy.”

It was like they found their rhythm again, like buying a new record of old songs; they held her between them, undressing themselves and what’s left of her clothes, not even bothering to leave the couch.

Being so close to them was like a cure; nothing could touch her, nothing but them. She felt the weight of Steve’s lips on hers, tracing his soft tongue on her teeth, breathing lightly into her, opening her mouth for him. She didn’t need anything else.

Bucky found her right breast, bare and soft, with only the contrast of her hardening nipple reacting to his slow circles around it, only stopping to pinch her pink nub, rolling it between his fingers. He chuckled softly when her breath hitched, clinging to Steve’s naked chest and pushing her ass closer to Bucky’s cock.

She shifted on his lap, somehow; now facing Steve, mouth on his, and her back to Bucky, allowing him a better access to her sex.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, the cold of the metal meeting her heat, creating a contrasting sensation that made her whole body shiver with pleasure.

“Look at you,” he whispered in her ear, syncing the movements of both of his hands on her, “you’re so wet.”

Y/n hummed in response, hand shaping into a fist around Steve’s bicep when he caught her other breast, giving the same attention to it as Bucky.

“You’re so good for us doll.” He kissed the edge of her jaw, “Such a good girl, so wet for us.”

She groaned as Bucky slid a smooth finger inside her, slowly pumping it in and out, stretching her enough to insert a second finger between her folds.

“Faster, please.” She cried, mouth now free as Steve resumed working on marking her skin, sucking at her collarbone, allowing her to be as vocal as she wants.

“Steve, Bucky,” she bit her bottom lip, unable to divide her attention; Bucky moving faster inside her, thumb teasing her clit, and Steve squeezing her tits, bringing one of them to his mouth and scraping her sensitive nipple. It was all becoming too much.

Her hips buckled, breaths becoming more urgent as she moaned their names,

“Do you want to cum, darling?” Bucky asked from behind, not any less urgent than her, his cock becoming uncomfortably harder against his stomach and her ass by the second.

Y/n nodded furiously, swallowing a sob when a third digit entered her, “oh shit, I’m so close.”

Steve caressed her cheek, tracing the shape of her red lips with his thumb. She kissed it, taking it in her mouth fully, tongue spiraling its form and coating it with her saliva, hollowing her cheeks around it.

The heat rose to her face, knots tying up inside her stomach and going higher and higher, taking her closer to the edge.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come for us.”

She didn’t know who said it, too caught up in her own pleasure, but it was enough; The waves of her orgasm hit her all at once, she moaned loudly around Steve’s thumb, as Bucky didn’t stop, riding her high with her, fingers still being pushed in and out of her, milking her of her pleasure with sweet reassurance in her ears.

Bucky kissed her shoulder as she came down, still sensitive when he pulled his fingers from her heat. He growled when he saw how drenched they were, the metal collecting a good amount of her juices, “Fuck, baby.” Bucky smirked, both men fascinated by her reaction to them as if it was the first time, “I always miss your taste so much.”

He brought two wet fingers to his lips, relishing on her cum, moaning in pleasure for how sweet she is. Steve shuffled closer, bringing himself so close he was sharing Bucky’s lap with her.

He bit his lips, hungrily eyeing Bucky’s forefinger, untouched, still dripping with her. 

Steve secured his hand around the metal wrist in a firm grip, waiting for Bucky to lick his fingers clean, and taking the third one into his mouth, sucking at it until there was nothing left.

Bucky swallowed, cock twitching at the sensation of Steve’s tongue on his body. The subtle reaction captured Steve’s attention, and he moved even more forward, squeezing y/n between them, her eyes hooded in a post orgasm bliss, renewed arousal starting to form in her core again when she felt the weight of Steve against her sensitive pussy.

“C’mere.” Steve motioned, voice deep from lust. Bucky swallowed again when he felt a tug at his hair, pulling him forward. Steve crushed his lips on his, the delicious flavor of y/n still on their tongue as they tasted it off each other, breathlessly exploring. Steve took a hold of Bucky’s thick shaft, stroking him from the base to the tip, removing the precum with his thumb and smearing it on y/n lips blindly, not breaking the kiss. She whimpered, eagerly licking it off.

Steve’s hips jolted involuntarily, forcing them to part, barely catching their breath.

“Fuck, Steve…Please.” Y/n moaned at the new friction, suddenly needy for more. He positioned himself farther, just in front of her entrance, teasing her with his tip, as Bucky parted her thighs, holding her in place.

She shifted, head shaking as she turned to Bucky. “I want both of you.”

His breath hitched in his throat, the clutch of his fingers tightening around her, “it’s been so long, baby. Are you sure you’re read-“

“Please? Bucky, Steve?” She was begging now, voice small, eyes pleading, the pink blush on her cheeks matched the scarlet color of her lips, reminding Bucky of a rose. The red tint casted a celestial shadow across her face, highlighting the splatter of freckles on her nose, her dilated pupils overpowering the color of her eyes. There’s so much self restraint a man can have.

“Okay.” He said hoarsely, barley able to control himself, “whatever you want, darling.”

She smiled, biting her lips to obscure it. She didn’t care it’s been years since they were both inside her. She wanted them. Needed them.

Bucky dipped his fingers inside her soaked core, coating himself in her fluids. She gasped when he pulled them out, slowly, his other hand was parting her asscheeks, searching for her entrance.

“Shh,” Bucky kissed her left shoulder, rubbing circles around the tight ring of muscles, using her own juices as a lubricant, “relax for me, baby.”

Y/n sighed, feeling Steve length on her folds, still not pushing inside her. He stroked her hair, leaving fluttering kisses on her neck, so different from the aggressive lovebites he previously left there.

She felt her muscles loosen around Bucky, slowly but surly opening her up for him.

“Buck.” She inhaled sharply as he managed to get a finger inside her. Steve was rubbing lazy circles on her clit, and she thought she’ll cum again, the familiar coil in her guts starting to form.

“Again already?” Bucky chuckled behind her, recognizing her rapid breaths and the clutching of her walls around him. He added a second finger, sliding inside her smoothly, “I guess we’ll have to pick up the pace.”

A couple of pumps later, and he pressed a third digit into her hole, it was a tighter fit, muscles resisting it at first, but he was persistent.

“So tight.” He exhaled, humming at the nape of her neck. Y/n opened her eyes, not realizing how hard she shut them, only to see Steve’s hungry look on them, devouring both of their naked forms.

She felt the fire igniting in the pit of her stomach, a softer pleasure washing her when she came, panting and hiding her face in the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve chest vibrated with laugher, placing a hand on her back, “Are you okay?”

Y/n nodded, leaving the safety of his neck to look at him, words too difficult to form.

“We’re almost there,” Bucky reassured, gathering her newly found slick to coat his cock, pulling out his fingers. He moved himself to her entrance, stretching her painfully even with all his caution.

“Yes, just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” He praised her while caressing her arm, moving another inch deeper until his base hit her ass.

She let out a strangled gasp, shutting her eyes and correcting her breaths. Steve squeezed her palm, signaling her to open her eyes. She looked at him, already looking wrecked; “Are you sure, y/n? It’s okay if you-“

Y/n bit her bottom lip, smiling at him as sweetly as she could, “pretty please?”

The man huffed, letting out a low chuckle and placed himself against her dripping cunt, thrusting his hips into hers, gradually filling her up.

“Oh shit.”

It was always overwhelming at the first thrust. Being so full she forgot how empty she used to be. The stretch opening her up, reminding of something she hasn’t felt in five years. Right now, she might’ve felt complete.

She wasn’t ready, until now, having them both in the same level of intimacy like before. But this was so impromptu, so raw, so them; it was only natural for her to feel like herself again.

They stayed still inside her, giving her the time to adjust, already twitching, and she felt every inch of them against her damp walls, clenching around them, making it unbearable for them not to budge.

Y/n was the one to initiate. Recognizing how restless they grew, she rolled her hips, a whine escaping her lips just when Steve and Bucky moaned deeply, holding onto her.

She did it again, this time it stung less, her body getting accustomed to the presence of them inside,

“Y/n.” Bucky groaned, holding her hips in a steel grip.

“Yes?” She blinked at him, innocently.

“Stop that.”

“Why?”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

There was a pause, “I’m not, it’s okay.”

Steve and Bucky shared a look above her head, brief but meaningful. Steve pulled himself back slowly, stopping at the half of his length, only to pound into her again; she shut her eyes, her hands on Steve’s bare chest, feeling the flex of his muscles under it.

Bucky did the same thing- he drew himself out and pushed back in, knuckles tightening around her middle.

Beads of sweat formed in the valley of her breasts as they slammed harder each time, picking up a pace between themselves, moving in turns and then together, whispering words to sooth her pain.

Y/n was a mess under them, being so completely full, any discomfort long gone or replaced by pleasure.

“Guys,” she whimpered, “I’m close.”

Her eyes teared up, head shot back and met Bucky’s shoulder; she squirmed, able to taste her edge now. She couldn’t take it, her hips shifting involuntarily to the sides as they fucked into her.

They held her still again, nearly collapsing over her from how close they were, how good she took them.

She was the first one to come. Waves on waves of pleasure striking harder than before. She could taste her salty tears and hear herself screaming, nails clawing at anything she could find.

“Fuck!” Bucky grunted, hips thrusting into her repeatedly until he came inside her, leaning his head on her neck, holding her close for Steve to continue until he got his release.

“Shh, baby." Bucky whispered, “It’s okay, we’ve got you.” Steve rocked her body, crushing his hips into hers desperately, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks rosy. He was close too.

She whined, clutching walls around him for the last time, not having any energy left in her to do anything else. Steve inhaled sharply, the tightness of her pushing him over the edge.

He spilled hot shots inside her, nearly collapsing on top of her in a tangle of sweaty bodies.

They stayed like this, not daring to move, still buried deep within each other.

“We forgot the cake.” Y/n laughed breathily.

“You weren’t supposed to know it’s a cake.” Bucky muttered, toying with a couple wet strands of her hair lazily.

“We kinda gave it up, Buck.” Steve admitted, “I’m pulling out, sweetheart.” He gave her a few seconds to prepare -say goodbye to the comforting warmth of the both of them surrounding her- lifting himself up using the arm of the sofa. In one slick motion he was no longer inside her, the sudden emptiness alien and unwanted. A mix of her juices dripped down her legs slowly, blending with the shots of cum Bucky left in her, too, as he mirrored Steve’s actions, removing himself from her hole.

It was awfully lonely all of a sudden.

“C’mon baby.” Bucky lifted her up as well, handling her as gently as he could, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No, no.” Y/n protested, “I wanna see the surprise.”

“It can wait for tomorrow.” Steve said, piling up the boxes on the table, cleaning up after them.

“You didn’t spend all day making it so I would see it tomorrow, show me.” She was stubborn, persistent, they knew too well it was a losing battle once she sat her mind to something. And she was already set on the couch again. They exchanged looks, sighing and sitting down to her sides.

“It’s not much.” Steve said, suddenly feeling self conscious about his work.

“It’s amazing,” Bucky reassured, knowing Steve isn’t going to uncover it himself so he did it instead, peeling the cover off to reveal it.

Y/n gasped, drinking in the work of art in front of her; It was a rectangle shaped chocolate cake, completed with white frosting evenly spread on top.

There was a painting drawn into the cream, light strokes of brush that only one person could create, a beautiful mess of blue and red, like watercolors fighting to create harmony between them. It was them, it took her a while to find sense in the chaos, but eventually she recognized three figures, fitting into one.

 Beautiful.

“Steve.” She breathed, “we’re never eating this.”

“We’re not sure how edible it is, anyway.” Steve laughed in relief, embracing her and kissing her temple.

“We are.” Bucky all but jumped on them, wrapping his arms around the two in an awkward yet loving hug, their laughs ringing together in a gracious melody, “It’s not.“

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 11)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1591

Chapter summary: the magic of an old diner and it's healing pancakes

Warnings: nothing really

Previous: Chapter 10

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

Sitting in the car-park, watching the flashing neon sign above the 'American Diner' minutes off the bypass outside the village, you fight with yourself to not turn the engine back on and drive away. Last weeks talk has answered most of your questions, and you're now receiving replies to texts within an hour of sending them to Bucky, but you still feel nervous about actually seeing him again.

He's already inside, you spotted him talking with the owner just like he always did when you used to come. Quite early on in your friendship you'd dragged him along in order to see how authentic he thought the food and ambience was, and since then it had become a little tradition for you to spend Saturday evening's together trying out different combinations of pancake toppings and planning a road trip around his home country you never got around to taking.

Picking at the fraying end of the tassel on your keys, you wonder if it will ever be as easy between the two of you again.

You fell in love with Bucky over milkshakes and fries, working out which states you'd visit and in what order, listening intently as he spoke of long car journeys as a teenager, escaping the city as soon as Dayton got his licence. He desperately wanted to show you where he grew up, but the timing was never right, so you settled with taking him back to your home town instead. You hadn't exactly moved a great distance, just nine stops along the line on the slow train, so whenever the weather was nice during the summer one of you would pack a picnic and spend the day strolling along the river side. Sometimes you invited your parents to join you, delighted at how well Bucky got along with them.

You're forever grateful to them for not pushing you when you claimed you were just friends, knowing they could see something more there, but not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

You're brought back to the present by your phone lighting up with a message from Bucky, asking if you're ever going to come in, and when you look back to the diner's entrance he's standing there, waving with a grin. You wave back and nod, finally grabbing your bag and exiting the car. Conscious of his eyes on you, every step feels awkward as you walk towards where Bucky is holding the door open for you.

You duck in, the scent of frying food reminding you of many weekends when you'd spread out in a window booth and stay until closing. He leads you over to one such table and sits on the far side, smile a little more forced now when you slide in opposite him. You stare at the menu, not reading it, just needing to look somewhere else than over at Bucky as the tension rises.

Before either of you can speak, a waitress bounces up to you, the same one who spilled orange juice all over Bucky on her first day and hasn't stopped apologising since. She looks more confident now, more sure of her role.

“Mr James and Y/N! So good to see you again.”

You smile at her, surprised to be remembered after nearly a year.

“Your usual?” She asks.

“Our usual? Do you still know what that is?”

“Of course!” She rattles of the list. “And coffee for the road. Right?”

“Right.” You're impressed at her memory. “Is that okay with you Bucky?”

He agrees and she leaves with a swish of her ponytail.

Without the distraction of ordering, the atmosphere is strained once more. Sitting in a painful silence, so far away from how you used to be together, it's feels more like the beginning of a friendship than one that's half a decade old. You'd become friends so quickly you'd slipped past this awkwardness, so it's like moving backwards along a path you never went down in the first place.

He takes the plunge first. “Thank you for coming, I wasn't sure you would. And then you did but looked so conflicted I was sure you'd drive away again.”

“I did think about it, but I wouldn't have. I miss you, despite how badly you hurt me.” He flinches at your honesty.  “It's not that I don't forgive you, it's just a lot to take in.”

“I know.” He sits up straighter. “And I know I've said sorry but I wanna say it again, Y/N. You'd be completely within your right to not speak to me ever again.”

Drinks are placed at the end of the table but you hardly notice, too engrossed with each other.

“We've all made mistakes, Bucky. You've explained yourself, and I'd be a much worse person if I couldn't get past that.”

“You're too good Y/N. This is a lot more than I deserve.”

“Don't say that.”

“It's true. I don't know who that person was who said those things to you, it wasn't who I ever wanted to be, that's for sure.”

“The dark side of Hollywood got to you, that's all.”

He raises eyebrows, considering your suggestion. “I guess you're right. I wasn't prepared for it to be the way it was, and I let it become between us. I'll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you.”

You share a soft smile, unsure if you should thank him or make him swear on something precious that he'll keep his word.

The waitress is back over with the food, and Bucky leans back into his seat at she places it in front of you both. The small talk during the meal, mumbled around mouthfuls of fruit, is strained, but you're slowly becoming more relaxed around each other, helped by the normality of the location. When you've finished eating, you twist in your seat until your leg is crossed comfortably underneath you, watching Bucky fumble in his bag until he produces an envelope.

“Can I give you this?” He holds it out, placing it against your crossed arms when you don't move to retrieve it.

It feels heavy. “What is it?”

“Tickets to the première next week, backstage access. It would mean the world if you came.”

“I'll have to see.”

“Of course.”

He bites his lip as he pushes the remaining syrup around his plate. “I know I have to go but I feel sick every time I think about the amount of people who'll be there.”

“You can play a character in front of cameras for an audience of possibly millions, but a couple hundred people alongside a red carpet is too much?”

“It's different,” He insists. “I'm just myself in public. What if I'm not enough?”

You cease your teasing, reaching out to take his hand. “You're more than enough, Bucky.” His terrified look breaks your heart. “Look, let me see if I can get there.”

Opening the envelope and pulling out one of the tickets, you search the print for a date and time.

Bucky helps you out. “It's next weekend, the Sunday of the bank holiday. I thought if you wanted to come and it's late at least you won't have to get up for work the next day.”

“Got it all figured out, haven't you?” You chuckle.

“I just don't want it to be an inconvenience. Do you, er, do you have someone to bring?”

You squint at him confused.

“As a date?” He clarifies.

“Oh!” You look away as your cheeks heat up. “No, nothings changed on that front.”

Bucky's thumb strokes yours comfortingly. “Okay. If you don't have a date then maybe Dayton could have the other ticket?”

“You really have thought this all through, huh?” You smile drops as you realise what he's said. “Wait. Do you only have the two tickets to give away.” He nods and you frown. “And you were going to let me have both? Me and some possible... boyfriend?”

“Yes?” His voice cracks under your scrutiny.

“Why not give Dayton the chance first?”

“I need you to be there more than anyone else.”

There's a pause in which you look towards your joined hands to avoid his intense stare. Your heart is thumping against your rib cage as you attempt to work out the meaning of his words, unsure if you're over thinking everything.

The air crackles with tension again, and he changes the subject quickly. “Did you see I brought your shopping back?”

It takes you a second to figure out what he's on about. “Oh, yeah. Thank you. I didn't know that was you.”

He hums. “I made the taxi circle back, after checking you got home too. You stayed with Peggy that night?”

“I didn't really have a choice, you remember how she is.”

His laughter dies quickly, thoughts of that night still plaguing his thoughts. “Did I hurt you when I pushed you?”

You shake your head. “Just my pride.”

“I can't believe I was that awful to you. The one person who I-” Breaking off, he takes a shaky breath. “The only person who believed in me all those years when I got nowhere.”

“It wasn't just me who believed in you, Bucky.”

“Some days it felt like it.”

“But look at you now. Proved them all wrong.”

He squeezes your hands. “I did, didn't I? Just got to get through the interviews and premières now.”

“And you will.” You link your fingers together properly, gazes locking as you promise him. “I'm going to make sure you do.”

*****

Chapter 12

[fluffyunicornofdanger]

We Are Queen

Author’s Note: This is my first one-shot for this blog, I really hope you guys like it. So, this is longer than I intended it to be, but I love it. I’ve had this idea for a long time and feel in love with it which is probably why its so long. But whatever. Let me know if you guys want a part two because I might just do one since I really love this. Again, I hope that you guys like it, please give feedback. And requests are open. So, yeah.

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

Brian May x Reader

Part Two

Summary: Brian and Y/n have been dating for a few months and she has yet to meet his bandmates. But on the other hand, Brian’s unaware that she is the sister to members of another famous band. That is until the two bands decided to collaborate. 

Word Count: 4,714

Warnings: Swearing

The book store smelled of cider and dust as Y/n ran a finger down a row of books, trying to find the one she was looking for. She was currently in the ancient history section of the small corner store. She had searched all over the store for something that looked mildly interesting but hadn’t found a thing. Finding a title that sparked some interest, she pulled it off the shelf and flipped through it, the coarse corners of the pages getting caught on her fingers.

“I think this is it,” she stated, closing the book. Her words were met with a low laugh from the other side of the shelf. “Oh, hush up, Mr. May.”

“Says the one who has taken bloody ages to pick out one book, Ms. Y/l/n,” a tall, lean man with long black curly hair said as he came around to the other side, stopping next to her. He looked down at the book in her hand to see that she had picked one about the fall of the Roman empire. He, on the other hand, had picked out a few books on star mapping.

She rolled her eyes, smacking him with the book, “You’re the one that said you needed new reading material.”

He nodded as she lead him to the register. “True, but I already had an idea of what I wanted.” He grabbed the book out of her hands and piling it on top of his. “You did not.”

“Whatever.”

The two approached the register where a young girl sat on a stool, flipping through a magazine. Brian set down the books, alerting the woman that it was time to do her job. Closing the magazine the girl grabbed the pile of books and turned them over, looking at the prices before ringing them up

“Brian, you don’t have to pay for my book,” she informed as she watched him reach for his wallet, pulling out her as well. “I have money, too, you know.” She waved her wallet in the air as proof.

“I know, but I asked you here so it’s my treat.”

She huffed, shoving her wallet back in her purse, there was no use arguing.

When the books were purchased, the two walked out of the store, hand-in-hand, into the brisk London air. Walking down the street, they passed other couples going for strolls, children playing outside their front doors, and people chatting at cafes. Y/n smiled as they passed a group of children playing a game of tag on a small lawn. Brian couldn’t help but smile as her attention was momentarily caught up in their game. That was one reason he loved her, though he had yet to say it. He loved how her face lit up when she was near children, always one to interact with them. How she smiled at strangers as she passed by them. How she was gentle and kind even though she didn’t have to be. God, he loved everything about her even though they hadn’t been together long.

The two had only been dating for two months, but it was, so far, the best two months of their lives. They had met after they stumbled into each other on a rainy night after they had both gotten off of work. Y/n had just finished up locking up the tailor's shop that she worked at as a seamstress when she tiredly walked out into the street. That night, Brian wasn’t much different, just having finished breaking up a fight between Roger and Freddie as ‘Roger wasn’t giving it his all’, something the blonde didn’t take kindly to hearing. Both were too caught up in their thoughts as their bodies collided and they fell onto the cold, slippery pavement. After they picked themselves off the ground, Brian offered to walk her home and the rest was really history.

“I want you to meet the boys,” he stated, stealing her attention from the children.

Turning to him, she squinted as the sun blocked her vision, “That would be lovely, but I thought you said that they are a lot to take in?”

He laughed, biting his lip. The boys definitely were a lot to take in. And they most definitely weren’t too happy to find out that someone else was getting his attention. Especially as that someone had been the reason he had been late for recording on more than one occasion. But they were happy for him. Everyone deserved to find someone to love. But Brian was afraid that with how flamboyant Freddie was and how flirty Roger could be at times, that they would be too much for her to handle and she would run for the hills. If she did, he wouldn’t blame her as he wanted to do that at times. He thanked God for John because he knew that the man would be nothing but sweet towards her.

“When do you want me to met them?” she asked, pulling him from his trace.

He brought her knuckles to his lips, leaving a small kiss. “Well, can’t tomorrow as Freddie wants to collaborate, or I guess you could say attempt to, with this other band. So that probably won’t be a good day. Maybe the day after. We could do dinner.”

Y/n nodded as they came upon her row house, which she shared with two roommates. “I’ll clear my schedule,” she stated, a smile growing on her lips.

Brian unwound their fingers as he handed her the book that she took ages to pick out. “I’ll tell the boys.” He leaned in, running his hand over her cheek, leaving a peck on her lips, before they said their goodbyes.

Y/n sighed as she watched him walk down the pavement until he was out of sight. She quickly walked up the small stairs to the door, opening it and entering the house to be met by a chorus of laughter. Throwing off her coat, she didn’t have to wonder who they belonged to.

She entered the living room to see three men strung all over the furniture, she was ashamed to admit that she was related to them. And her mother would probably be ashamed to admit that she raised them. Placing her hands on her hips, she clicked her tongue at their behavior. Tracking their muddy boots over her couch and leaving coffee rings on her once clean coffee table. “I see the circus has arrived.”

The men left their conversation hanging, turning to the women who stood in the doorway.

The tallest man of the bunch, who was hanging over a dining chair that had been stolen from its place in the kitchen, rolled his eyes. “You sound like mum.”

Giving him a disgusted look she took a seat on the only unoccupied part of the tiny couch. “We all sound like mum,” she said, leaning back into the cushions. “What are you guys doing here anyway, Darrel?”

Darrel groaned, shifting in the uncomfortable wooden chair. “Well, we thought ‘why not go and visit our favorite sister,’ but Collett is in France at the moment, so we were left with you.”

“Yeah,” the man next to her yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “But you weren’t here and you’re roommate… um… what’s her name?” he asked the group.

“Jean,” the last of them, James, answered.

He nodded, “Jean told us to make ourselves at home and you know how good we are at that.”

That earned a chorus of laughs from the other two men.

She shook her head, smacking him on the arm, “Really, Ed? She told you guys to make yourselves at home, and this is how you decide to do it? Throw mud around-” She pointed at the muddy boot prints on the floor. “-which I don’t even want to know where it came from, and putting your feet on all the furniture.”

He shrugged, his long y/h/c slipping in front of his face. If their mother knew how long he’d gone between hair cuts on purpose, she would have a fit and probably come after it with a pair of scissors. God, if she knew how long they had all gone between cuts it would probably give her a heart attack.

Stretching her hands out in front of her, she let out a sigh. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be recording day?”

James scoffed from his place on the only other chair in the room, glaring at his brothers. “Oh, we were,” he seethed. “But Killian and Charlie weren’t getting alone. At all. And these two arses-” He pointed at his brothers who smiled back at him. “-didn’t make things any better.”

She let out a small ‘oh’ as Ed nodded in agreement, turning to her. “It was horrible. They started out just screaming at each other, which was fine, until they resorted to throwing things. Traumatizing, really. We might all need therapy now.”

All three men nodded in agreement.

Y/n’s three older brothers had started a band with five of their friends when they were in college in order to pay rent. Their mother thought that it was ridiculous and hoped that they would all get a ‘real job’. But five years later, they still had yet to find a ‘real job’, but they probably made more money by not doing so. In the last few years, they had grown in popularity, the band moving to London so they could be close to a recording studio.

Y/n was proud of how far they had come as few in her family thought they would make any money from it. But she knew that they would go somewhere. They worked hard to get where they were and they deserved everything they got. Even with their fame and their money, she never brought up that her brothers were rock stairs. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of them. She never used their fame for personal gain, she didn’t want to use their accomplishment to get herself anywhere. She didn’t want to leech off of them like so many other people had done. She wanted them to do what they loved without her getting in the way and without people taking advantage of the, That was one reason she hadn’t informed Brian about them. She had told him that they were into music, she just hadn’t been specified on how they were.

He thought his bandmates were hard to handle, he had yet to meet her brothers and their bandmates. Now, they were something else.

Ed looked over at Y/n, a concerned look on his face as he waved his hand in front of her face. “Earth to Y/n.”

Shaking her head, she focused on him, “Sorry, what?”

“I was just telling you how we’re going to be in the studio tomorrow,” Darrel informed her. “You’re welcome to come if you’re not busy.”

She clapped her hands together in excitement. She always enjoyed watching them work as music seemed to flow through their blood. “I have tomorrow off, so I would love to.”

“Great. We’ll pick you up then… oh, around noon.”

The next day, Y/n was sprawled out over the couch, new book in hand, waiting for her brothers to come get her. Generally, she would walk to the studio as it wasn't too far from her place, but as they offered her a ride, she couldn’t say no. She turned the page, glancing at her watch, it was 12:22, they were late. Y/n grabbed a random piece of paper off the coffee table and shoved it in her book to mark her place before she tossed it on the couch.

If they weren’t going to stick to their word and be punctual then she decided that she would walk to the studio. Going to the door, she slipped on a pair of flats and a leather jacket that James had bought her while they were touring in America. She was just out the door, when Ed pulled up in his beat up car. Y/n shook her head, he had more money than he probably every dreamed he would have yet he couldn’t buy himself a new car.

“You’re late,” she stated as he hopped out the car to open the passenger door. “Where’s James and Darrel?”

“I’m sorry ‘bout that.” Y/n slide into the car, the door shut once all body parts were out of the way. “Little disagreement at the studio. Darrel and the boys are trying to keep the place from being torn apart. And James… Well, he’s being a drama queen.”

She nodded as Ed turn the car on and pulled into the streets. Most of the bands fights were like that. Every day they seemed to get into a fight where at least one thing was broken. It was funny, though, how even after every fight, no matter how harsh the words were, everyone still came back the next day. That was probably because they wanted to continue the fight, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that each day they were able to put aside their differences and get along for a little while. That was something Y/n admired them for because they could have killed each other by now, but they hadn’t.

Even if their mother wasn’t proud that her sons were in a rock band, she should at least be proud that they haven't killed anyone. Yet.

The drive to the studio was quick, everything passing by in a blur. Probably because Ed had a lead foo, which had gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion. Y/n hopped out of the car and followed her brother into the building. The entrance of the studio was nothing grand. It was like the sitting area of a run down hotel. The air smelled of mold and dust, while the couches that were pushed against the wall had been eaten at by moths. But as they walked down a corridor, the place started to look clean and well kept. The walls looked like they had at least been cleaned once that decade, if not twice, and the smell of mold and dust turned to liquor and cigarettes.

Ed stopped in front of a door and turned to his sister. “I have to warn you-” Shouts from the other side of the door started to seep through the cracks. “-it could get pretty ugly.”

She shook her head, laughing. “It could get pretty ugly?” she questioned. “Isn’t it always pretty ugly?”

At the sound of something on the other side crashing to the floor, his eyes went wide and he shook his head. “Yes, but this is probably worse. Richard-” Their manager who had been with them from the start. “-thought it would be a great idea to work with another band for a song or two.” He flinched as something hit the door. “He was wrong as James can’t seem to get along with the bands drummer and Brant and Cliff don’t like the song that the other band wants to record.”

Y/n looked at him in shock. Of course, the one day that she has off, the one day that she can do whatever she damn well pleases, is the day that they want her over only to start fighting as she arrives.“Why’d you invite me then if it’s a war zone in there?”

He sighed. Y/n could tell that he wasn’t looking forward to opening the door. “I had no idea it would be like this! But-” He brought his fingers to his chin, drumming them. “-since you’re here… maybe you could, I don’t know, end this.”

Y/n gave him a confused look. She didn’t want to know what he meant by end it.

“You know,” he started. “You could tell James to shove it, as I think he’s the problem (then again, he’s always the problem), and you could go over the song that the other band wants to record and if you like it then we like it.” He smiled at her, waiting for some kind of response.

The response she gave was opening the door to be met by a full force of chaos. She grumbled to herself as she took in papers that were scattered on the floor, shards of what once were coffee cups, and James being held back by Darrel and Killian as he yelled at a blond man that she could only assume was the other bands drummer. The other drummer was being held back by one tall lean man. For a second Y/n recognized him but her brain wasn’t given time to tell her if she really did as her attention turned to her brother who was swearing like it was the national anthem.

Taking her jacket off, she pushed it into Ed who caught it without taking his eyes off of the men in front of him. The rest of her brothers’ bandmates that weren’t involved in trying to keep James at bay and two others, who she could only assume were members of the other band, did the same. They probably all wanted it to end so they could go back to whatever they were doing, but they all wanted to see who would win. She, on the other hand, didn’t care who won as she seemed to always be the last resort when it came to peace keeping. She wasn’t quite sure why that was. Ed and Darrel told her that it was because she had good taste in music, generally always going with their songs or melodies, and knew how to bring James’ ego down a few notches, which was often a hard task. Y/n honestly thought it was because she had mastered the art of getting what she wanted from her brothers at a young age. If she wanted them to stop fighting, with a bat of her lashes, they stopped fighting. She had them wrapped around her figure and they were oblivious to it.

“What are you gonna do?” Ed whispered, placing her jacket on a hook next to the door.

A grin slowly grew as she eyed the drums in the recording booth. James absolutely hated it when anyone touched his drummers. Especially her after she broke one on accident a few years back while they were recording an album. It was purely an accident but he won’t hear it and told her that if she ever touched his drummers, ever played them, ever looked at them wrong, he’d throw her in the Thames.

“Oh,” she smiled. “I’m going to see if James is a man of his word.

As anger boiled between the two drummers, each getting harder to hold back, Ed ran in front of James as he slipped out of Darrell's grip, catching him before he could reach the blonde. Y/n walked around them as the two men kept insulting each other. She slipped into the recording booth and picked up a pair of drum sticks that her brother had carelessly left lying around. He really should have known better as she took joy in pissing him off.

Going onto the drum stand, she sat behind the pile of drums, twirling in the chair. Peering into the sitting room, she could still see that they were going at it as no one had noticed that she had left. They probably hadn’t noticed that she had even arrived either. No matter, she raised the drum sticks and began the to play one of the only songs that James had taught her before taking away her drumming privileged: I’m Just A Singer (In a Rock and Roll Band).

Upon hearing the beat of the drummers, James turned, wide eyed, to see his sister behind his drums. “Great! Just great!” He threw his hand in the air before storming into the booth. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as he stormed out of the room. The blonde man was pushed back by his bandmate to keep him from following.

Y/n gave James an innocent smile as the booth door slammed against the wall and he approached her.

“I thought I told you, Y/n/n. You. Don’t. Touch. The. Drums.”

She laughed, putting the drum sticks down and coming out from behind the instruments. “And I though,” she got face to face with him, poking him in the chest as she spoke. “That. Mum. Said. It’s. Ungodly. To. Fight.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “Did you go deaf or something? Because I think mum would have decked him.”

She shrugged as she ran her hand over Ed’s gitar, moving around him. “You know, I honestly think the only thing mum would do,” she paused as she reached the doorway. “Is give you all hair cuts.”

James snorted as Ed snickered from behind her. “It’s not funny,” he growled, glaring at his brother.

Y/n nodded in agreement. “And neither is acting like a child,” she proudly stated before turning on her heels and taking a seat in one of the office chairs next to the recording equipment.

Brian watched as the woman sat in front of them with his jaw on the floor. He hoped to god that he was only seeing things. So far, the day had been rough and he hoped that it wasn’t going to get any worse.

“She’s quite a looker, Bri, but she’s the enemy here. So, pick your jaw up,” Roger whispered to him. The blonde had clearly understood that she had something to do with the other band. He didn’t seem to care that she put a stop to the argument he was in.

Brian didn’t give much thought to what Roger said as he adjusted himself so he didn’t look like a fool. He probably would later, anyway.

“I think that if James keeps acting like a child-” The woman spun to face two of the men, Ed and Darrel. “-then you should just kick him out of the band. Lord knows he’s not a very good drummer and that temper.” She clicked her tongue. “Makes him as dangerous as a bull in a china cabinet,” she said, spinning to look at the man still in the booth, trying to calm his rage.

Brian knew when Freddie asked them if they would consider working with another band that it wouldn’t go very well. He knew that with Roger’s attitude and their style of music and Freddie’s ability to only do what he pleases, they would butt heads with the other band. But he did not think that he would have to pull Roger off of someone and on top of that, he did not think that he would know the woman that took control of the situation. Let alone be the same woman that he had taken to bed multiple times.

“Haha. Very funny,” a member of the other band muttered, picking up the loose paper on the floor. If Brian remembered right, the man’s name was Killian. Maybe. With Roger yelling in his ears earlier, he wasn’t sure if he remembered much anything. “But I think we are very fond of how awful James is.”

“Such a shame.”

Brian watched as the woman tensed in her seat, before running a hand over her face. He had a feeling that she realized just who the other band in the room was. “Well, that was fun,” Freddie clapped his hands. “Now back to work then.”

Spinning to face the men, the woman sighed. “You know, I just realized something,” she said, looking at Ed. Freddie looked irritated as she stole his attention.

“And what would that be, Y/n?” Darrel sighed, taking a seat on the couch on the other side of the room. Now Brian knew that he wasn’t seeing things. Not as her eyes lit up at the question.

She hummed before answering, “Well, it could be that I am slow on the uptake, but I’m going to blame Mr. Hot Head in there-” She pointed at James. “-for that. But first off, I wasn’t informed until I entered utter hell that you guys were recording with another band. Rude,” she pointed out. “And to think that I was in the loop. And not only that but no one even bothered to inform me what band you guys would be fighting with. I was forced to put the fire out. Which I don’t enjoy doing,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Oh, there it was. It was coming around the corner. The moment that Brian would have to face his fears and introduce his bandmates to his girlfriend. This was not the way he wanted to do it. He wanted to have them met over dinner, in a restaurant where everyone had to be civil. Or as civil as they could muster. Not in a recording studio that had seen better days, with Roger and James throwing insults at each other. It most certainly wasn’t ideal.

“Don’t you know, darling?” Freddie stepped in front of Brian and Roger pushing the two out of the way. “We are Queen.” He smiled at her, which wasn’t returned.

Y/n clicked her tongue, obviously not satisfied with his answer, which shocked him a little. Everyone was always not only satisfied with Queen, but excited by them. And the woman sitting in front of him was neither.

“Really?” She turned to Brian, waiting for his answer. She was kicking herself for not realizing he was in the room earlier. The damn hair should have been a dead give away. She didn’t know anyone else with curly hair like his. For that, she again blamed James as that is who her attention was focused on. Her favorite hotheaded brother.

Brian swallowed as everyone turned to him. His face turned red as Y/n glared at him, waiting. “That-that would be right. We… we are Queen.”

Ed looked between the two as Y/n drummed her fingers over the arm of the chair. She looked like she was going to eat him, a look she often gave when she didn’t get her way. A look that was often directed towards James. It seemed that everyone else noticed the look as his bandmates looked at each other, thinking that it was a good time to leave. “Um… Should we be worried?” Ed asked, looking at her, thinking that Queen would soon be down a member.

She shook her head. “No. Not unless Brian doesn’t formally introduce me to his bandmates, because then he will have to find himself a new girlfriend,” she stated, her eyes never leaving the curly haired man. “And women like me are hard to come by.”

Roger, Freddie, and John, who had been hiding in the corner trying to stay out of the chaos, all turned to Brian, shock written clearly on their features. They all knew that Brian was seeing someone, but they had no idea that she would have anything to do with the band that they were having trouble working with.

Clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck, he turned to his bandmates. “Guys, this is Y/n,” he gestured to her. “Y/n, this is Roger, Freddie, and John.” He pointed each out as she smiled up at them.

Y/n attention quickly turned elsewhere, however when Ed coughed, waiting for his turn to speak. Biting her lip, she knew that it would be a long day. With the look in Ed’s eyes and Darrel drilling holes into Brian, she started to wonder if she would even have a boyfriend at the end of the day. Maybe she should have mentioned to Brian earlier that her brothers were in a band. It wouldn’t save him from the threats he would receive, but maybe it would have made working with them easier. And maybe, just maybe, she should have at least mention to her brothers that she had a boyfriend. But more importantly, her brothers should have at least told her that they were going to be working with another band. That way she would at least know a little bit of what to expect when she walked into the studio.

[moonlightsolo]

1974

request: Hi! Can you write a Ben!Roger Taylor x reader fic where the reader is American and meets the band while they're on tour in the US and the rest of the band is surprised when Roger stops bringing girls along with them and asks her to stay?

pairing: ben!roger x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: swearing, angst kinda??? cliff hanger

a/n: i’m planning on making a part 2 to this! i hope you enjoy :)

-

The piano kicks off and the lights dim, you can barely make out Freddie Mercury’s silhouette as he expertly plays the keys. The sweaty bodies crowded around you block your view. The drums and guitars start, the beat evidently bumping in your chest. The music gave you goosebumps as you squeeze past the people to get to the front of the stage. Your eyes squint from the bright stage lights as you near the front just as Freddie grabs his microphone. His raspy voice begins to sing as he pranced right in front of you. It felt unreal to see your favorite band live.

“Fear me you lords and lady preachers

I descend upon your earth from the skies!” His hand grabbed ahold of the boomstick attached to his microphone as he presses the front of his body into it. You instantly recognize the song as, ‘Seven Seas of Rhye’.

You can’t contain your excitement as your smile grows wider, he continues to sing as he struts near the edge of the stage. You reach your hand out, hoping he would notice. When he bent down slightly, he grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. You sing along with him, his voice sounds heavenly so close, but alas he had to let go as he walked back up to the drum-set.

“I command your very souls you unbelievers. Bring before me what is mine; The seven seas of rhye!”

It wasn’t Freddie your eyes were set on, it was the blonde drummer known as Roger Taylor. You couldn’t help but stare at him. His skin glistening with sweat underneath the colored lights, his biceps tensing as his drumsticks hit the percussion instrument. What a man.

As the song ends, Freddie walks back out to the center of the stage and points at the crowd before letting his head hang back towards the ceiling.

It went silent for a split second before Freddie brought the microphone to his lips again. “Wow! What a turnout!” He smiled wide, “Thank you for coming, darlings. It’s been fucking crazy. I can’t believe we’ve made it to the states!” He laughed, looking over at Brian and gave him a nod to start playing. Freddie made his way across the stage as he struts.

“Now, let’s get on with it then shall we? Here’s Keep Yourself Aliiiiive!” Roger screams into his mic and begins drumming after the guitar solo.

-

As the last song fades, the crowd screams. The band members of Queen stand in a line to bow. Freddie blew kisses and the rest of the boys wave. You swoon as Roger twirls his drumsticks in his hands as they walk off the stage. You reach your hand up to wave at him which results in a wink getting sent your way; Wow, what a tease. Definitely a player, but you still can’t help it when your mind drifts off to the obscene view of him playing live.

As the cheers fade, some people begin to pile out of the theater. Some disappear behind doors that lead to backstage. There’s no way you could get back there. You’re a nobody from a small town.

You decide to head to the payphone to call your ride to come pick you up, but they don’t answer. Even after five tries. Great, even your own siblings aren’t reliable. You left a voicemail, telling them you’ll be at Jeffery’s Bar down the street.

You awkwardly stuff your hands into your jean jacket pockets as you walk outside into the brisk air. The wind whips your hair around your face as you walk down the sidewalk to the nearby hole-in-the-wall bar, knowing that you are under the drinking age but you can get some food while you wait.

The music playing in the bar made you wince, the smell of wood and beer floods your nose as you walk up to the counter. The bartender greets you and you ask her for some fried cheese balls with a virgin piña colada.

As you’re sitting there on a stool, munching on your snack, the door opens. From your peripheral vision, you can see a male enter but you pay no mind to them. You sip on your cold fruity drink, taking one of the cherries floating on the top and eating it.

Somebody sits beside you, their accent throwing you off as they ask for a beer. You glance at them from the corner of your eyes as your mouth stays on the straw of your drink. Just by seeing his long blonde hair, baby blues, and hearing his raspy British accent; you know it’s Roger Taylor. “Shit!” You exclaim as you push your drink away and press your tongue to the roof of your mouth to calm your horrible brain freeze. Your hand goes to your forehead, your cheeks turning a bright shade of pink as your head hangs.

Roger takes a gulp of his lager before laughing, his eyes on you. “You alright, love?” He chuckles, taking another sip. “Yeah, yeah.” You let a small flustered laugh out, “S’just reaaally cold.” You lift your head up to meet his eyes.

Something in his brain clicks, you can see it. “You were at our gig, weren’t you?” He asks, a small smirk crawling onto his lips. You nod, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, it was really great. The best concert I’ve been to.” Your words make a cocky grin settle on his face. Before he could answer, you take a cheese ball and pop it in your mouth, “Want one?” You ask as you push the plate towards him. He gladly takes one, “Thank you.”

You both silently sit there for a few, munching on the cheese balls and neither of you wanted to force conversation. “How about you come back with me to meet the band?” He offers, taking another sip of his beer. His eyes stayed on you, trying to watch your reaction. Your eyes went wide as thoughts ran through your head, did he mean as a groupie? or just as a friend?

“It’s just a thought. Your mind is in shambles, isn’t it?” He chuckled. Which is very true, your mind is a mess. “I’ll come, okay? But I can’t stay for too long.”

“Brilliant, I got your tab. Let’s go.” He pushes some money across the bar counter to cover both of your orders, “Wait, you don’t have to-.” He cuts you off by slipping off the stool and shrugging his jacket on. His hand reaches out for you to take to help you hop down. You sigh and slip your hand into his.

The feeling of his hand was rough, a bit calloused but still gentle as he led you outside to a black car with a driver. “Fancy.” You giggled as he opened the door for you, you scooted inside the backseat as he did so too after you. “So why’d you come to the bar by yourself?” You asked him during the ride.

“I just needed a bloody drink. Sometimes those blokes can make me a bit... annoyed.” Roger shakes his head with a grin, “That’s understandable.” You relax against the seat of the car, stealing small glances of Roger. He does the same to you which you noticed. It makes you blush.

-

When Roger opens the door to the suite, you both were having a fit of giggles as you walk in. Brian is sprawled on the couch in front of a television, John is plucking away at his bass guitar, his brown hair hanging in his face. Freddie is nowhere to be seen until he bounds around the corner. “Rog! Is that you? Where the fuck did you go, ya bugger?” His thick accent calls out, he is wrapped up in a silk green printed robe. He stops when he realizes that there’s a girl with him, his eyes rolling backward.

“Bloody hell, Rog. Really?” He walks up to you, both of his hands clasping one of yours to shake kindly. “Sorry. Hello, darling.” He glares at Roger before letting go. “I hope you enjoy your stay, love. If you’re staying around... Is she?” Freddie looked over at Roger, who shrugs and pulls his jacket off. “If she wants to.” Roger says nonchalantly.

“Just for a little bit. He wanted to bring me by to say hello to the band. I was at your concert, it was fantastic.” You beamed happily, “Ah, yes. You’re the one with the soft hands.” Freddie realizes, “The soft hands? What does that even mean?” Your mouth drops as you laugh. Freddie turns on his heel and you follow him closely.

“It’s nothing, darling. Come meet the rest of Queen!” His hands go into the air theatrically as he motion for you to follow. He brings you over to Brian and John as Roger watches from afar.

And this is only the start to something great.

[ukulelecal]

Biggest Fan pt. 4

In which you’re a famous singer and Calum is a fan of your music.

Warnings: maybe like one swear, but other than that not really

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader

Requested By: Anonymous originally

“hi can you do a blurb on calum where you’re also famous and u find out he’s interested in you and low key loves your music? shebjdjsj idk jus make it fluffy and ill love u forever”

A/N: another obnoxiously long wait, another part!!!! finally!! we got some cute calum all up in this bitch YEESS im in love with him. sorry its short (well like not super short but shorter than part 3), i wasn’t sure what else could happen without making it extensive for just one part. but give me some feedback, tell me what you thought!! also, do you guys want more parts? i could probably end it here if yall are done with this, but i also have some ideas for some more things that could happen!!! aka i could kill yall with some cuteness!! or make you cry with some angst!! what do you guys think???

Requests are OPEN!

*Gif not mine*

Series Masterlist

Your head was pounding. Your stomach was churning. All the telltale signs of a hangover.

A groan fell from your lips, bringing your hand up to rub your eyes. After they adjusted to the light coming in from the windows, you glanced at the bed next to yours; Cara and Sam were still sleeping soundly. Your eyes then fell on the clock, squinting to see clearly. 12:34 PM. You hadn’t even realized you slept that late.

The occurrences of the previous night were one massive blur. You remembered getting ready to leave and meeting up with Calum and Mali, having a couple shots, but after that? Not much came back to you.

It wasn’t until you picked up your phone, seeing a text from Calum, that perhaps the most significant event of the night finally popped into your head.

You admitted your feelings to Calum. You kissed him.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to smile or punch yourself in the face.

Sure, you had been wanting something like that to happen. But, in a club and being totally wasted wasn’t exactly how you imagined it happening. You couldn’t really complain, though. He liked you back.

He liked you back.

Yeah, you had to smile.

You glanced down at your phone again, actually reading the text that Calum sent you.

Calum: I have to get back on the road later today. I really need to see you again before I go.

You bit your lip softly, typing out a reply.

Y/N: Definitely. Where should we meet up?

You set your phone back down on the nightstand to wait for a reply, and kicked the blankets off of you. Might as well start getting ready if you were going to meet up with Calum. You quietly padded to the bathroom, trying not to wake up Cara and Sam, and glanced in the mirror. Oh, yikes. You had managed to change out of your clothes before crashing in bed, apparently, but neglected to remove your makeup. Your eye makeup was smudged everywhere, and your lipstick was smeared a bit.

Well, that probably wasn’t entirely from sleeping.

You grabbed a makeup wipe and cleaned everything off, then thoroughly washed your face. From outside the bathroom, you heard your phone vibrate, and you quickly scurried out to check. There was another text from Calum.

Calum: You can come to my hotel, if that’s okay. I’ll take you back to yours on my way to the airport after.

Y/N: Sounds good, Cal

He proceeded to send you the name of the hotel and his room number, and you scurried over to your suitcase to get some clothes. You decided on something cute but casual, just for a meet up. A pair of mom jeans, and a simple white t-shirt tucked in.

As you went about your morning routine, you pondered exactly what you and Calum were going to talk about. The night before was inevitably going to come up, but that conversation could go in many different directions. You weren’t sure exactly how it would turn out.

Still, you meant every word you had said. You liked him a lot. Although your time together in person was limited, you texted and Skyped him a lot and got to know him very well. You fell for him from miles away.

After you finished getting ready, making yourself look as presentable as possible being quite hungover, you shook Cara and Sam awake, earning tired groans in response.

“You can go back to sleep if you want,” you chuckled. “Just wanted to let you know I’m going to go see Calum for a bit. I shouldn’t be too long.”

Cara grumbled something incoherent and buried her head deeper into the pillows. Rolling your eyes, you reached for the pad of paper and pen that hotels provided, and wrote out a quick note. Chances were, neither of them were going to remember a thing you said, if they even heard you at all.

You slipped on some shoes, grabbed your phone and room key, and headed out the door.

On the way down to the lobby, you put the address to Calum’s hotel into your phone to see how far it was. Turns out, it wasn’t far at all, only a couple blocks away. You decided against calling an Uber; you could walk.

You turned left out of your hotel and started your walk. It went by quickly and uneventfully, and you soon found yourself in the lobby of the hotel Calum was staying at. You headed towards the elevators and went up to the sixth floor, where he had said his room was. You then followed the signs to room 659.

Taking a deep breath, you gently rapped on the door. It opened a couple moments later to reveal Calum dressed in black joggers and a green hoodie with the word “empathy” printed across the front.

“Hey,” he said, a sleepy grin resting on his face. You could tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the disastrous state of his hair, that he was feeling the effects of a hangover as well.

“Hi,” you replied, and he stepped to the side to let you in. Letting the door fall shut behind you, he gestured to the bed, sheets wrinkled and messy from a night of sleep, for you to sit. You gingerly plopped yourself down on the edge, and Calum did the same next to you.

“So, um, have you seen the pictures?” Calum asked, scratching the back of his head as he turned to look at you, face slightly scrunched up. You furrowed your eyebrows at the question.

“What pictures?” You asked, confused. The only thing you had done on your phone was text Calum, not check social media. He sighed and grabbed his phone that was resting on his pile of pillows, and unlocked it; you didn’t want to be nosy, but you couldn’t help but notice that his lockscreen was a photo of his dog, Duke. He had shown you pictures of him when you were in Paris. You smiled a little. Hopefully you’d get to meet the little guy.

Then the familiar blue of Twitter appeared on his screen, and Calum used his thumb to scroll until he found what he was looking for. He clicked on a picture and handed you his phone to see.

Your heart dropped in your stomach a bit as you swiped through the many.

The pictures were all of you and Calum at the club. You were used to having your picture taken when you were just trying to do normal things or have fun, but these weren’t exactly the same. There were a couple of you and him dancing, but the majority were of you and him kissing.

It was those that made you slightly uncomfortable. Calum had you pinned against the wall, hands gripping your hips and your arms thrown around his neck, having a sloppy makeout session. That wasn’t the type of picture you wanted of yourself getting spread around the Internet.

“Oh,” you breathed out softly. Wordlessly, you handed Calum his phone back, gently taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I know,” he sighed, tossing the electronic back on the pillows. “I wish they would just leave us alone, you know?”

“Yeah.” It was normal for you to be scrolling through Twitter and suddenly find a picture of yourself walking down the street, getting into your car, having lunch with a friend. It definitely did get pretty annoying. “What are people saying about them?”

Calum sighed again, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Similar things to what they said about the Paris pictures,” he began. “There were more of them that weren’t so nice, I guess.”

“Of course,” you grumbled under your breath, more to yourself rather than Calum. Another thing you were, unfortunately, used to was hate on the Internet. You had seen it all; jabs at your music, your appearance, your clothes, your personality. Most of the time, you tried not to even read it, ignore it the best you could, but curiosity got the best of you every once in a while. Nonetheless, you tried not to let it bother you. “What are we going to do, then?”

Calum hesitated before answering.

“I’m not sure what there is to do. Just don’t acknowledge it, I guess.”

You weren’t sure why you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you.

“And, about last night…” Calum continued, voice trailing off. Your eyes widened a bit.

This had been what you really wanted to talk about. You knew what you were hoping for him to say, but there was always the possibility that he could take it back. Tell you he was drunk and it didn’t mean anything. That you should just keep being friends.

“Did you mean what you said?” He asked, voice soft, and you could hear the slightest shake in his voice. A small smile graced your features.

“Of course I meant it,” you replied, just above a whisper. “I really do like you, a lot.”

Calum smiled, and your smile grew to match his.

“Did you?” You questioned, letting your head fall daintily to the side. Calum chuckled.

“Every word.”

He suddenly stood up, reaching his hand out. You gingerly grabbed it, letting him pull you to your feet and close to him. Looking up to meet his gaze, you found his brown eyes boring into you, and you felt your heart flutter.

Those damn eyes got you every time.

“I don’t think we had a very proper kiss last night,” he mused, running his thumb over your hands that were held between the two of you. “C-Can I kiss you again?”

Calum was mentally cursing himself for stuttering, but you were nodding and smiling fondly up at him, already starting to slowly lean in. He moved his hands to cup your cheeks, closing the distance between you.

This was more like the romantic first kiss you had imagined.

Your hands found his shoulders, letting them rest there.

Your heart was pounding. You were weak in the knees. You were wrapped around his finger.

He felt the same. Ever since he met you in Chicago, he knew you were special. It was a leap of faith for him to tweet you that day, so long ago, and he about died when you replied. He couldn’t be more glad.

The kiss eventually broke, and you stayed with your foreheads resting against each other, dazed smiles on both of your faces. Before either of you had the chance to say anything, Calum’s phone rang from where it sat on the bed. Of course, something had to ruin the moment.

He sighed heavily, mumbling out an apology before reaching for it.

After he hit decline to whoever was calling him, he tossed it down and reached for your hands again.

“I have to leave for my flight,” he sighed, almost sounding upset that he had to go. As much as you wanted to have more time with him, more than just these few minutes, you knew he had a tour to get back to.

“Okay,” you replied, giving his hands a light squeeze. “I can walk back to my hotel.”

“Are you sure? I can ask my driver to drop you off on the way.” You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m only a couple blocks away.”

He nodded, pulling you in for a hug. You breathed out deeply as you wrapped your arms around his torso, taking in his scent. You knew it would be a while before you saw each other again, maybe not even until after he finished the North American leg of his tour, which was the last one.

You just didn’t want to leave him.

“Text me later, okay?” You mumbled into his chest, eyes unintentionally falling shut.

“Definitely.”

You pulled away from the hug, looking up at him with a grin.

“Bye, Calum.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

Hesitantly, you removed yourselves from each other grasps, and Calum walked you to the door.

Just as you stepped foot into the hallway, Calum grabbed your wrist and spun you around.

“One more,” he breathed out, pulling you in for another kiss. You melted into it. How was a simple kiss so heavenly?

“Now I’m good,” he chuckled when he pulled away, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little as well. You bid your final goodbyes, and before you knew it, you were on your way back to your hotel.

…

After you returned and relayed every single detail of what happened onto the finally awake Cara and Sam, you decided to spend the day relaxing by the pool.

You were laying out on your chair, catching some California sun, when the thought came to you; you and Calum for sure liked each other, but nothing ever became official. What were you?

You wanted to wait, didn’t want to seem desperate, but it was nagging you. Did shared feelings and a few kisses mean you were together? Official? Unofficial?

Letting out a deep breath, you reached for your phone, typing a simple, straightforward text out to Calum.

Y/N: Cal? What are we?

You weren’t expecting a reply right away, assuming he was probably on the plane, but much to your surprise, you got one just a few minutes later.

Calum: I mean, I kind of wanted to ask you this in person, but that depends on how you answer this question

The typing bubbles appeared, signalling he was still typing. You bit your lip as your heart pounded in your chest. The next text couldn’t come soon enough.

Calum: Would you like to be my girlfriend, Y/N?

And everything suddenly seemed like it fell into place.

Y/N: I would love to be your girlfriend, Calum. And I would love for you to be my boyfriend

Calum: You’re fucking adorable. I wish I was there to kiss you right now

You giggled a little, covering your mouth with your hand.

Y/N: Can’t wait until I see you again so we can do boyfriend-girlfriend things like kissing xo

Calum: Soon, just a few weeks left. I’m boarding now, I’ll call you later, ok?

Y/N: Ok. Have a safe flight!

His response was a few heart emojis, and you locked your phone. There was no way in hell you could wipe the smile off your face.

It was official. Boyfriend-girlfriend official.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Cara asked, returning with Sam from the bar where they had been getting drinks. You giggled, covering your face with your hands.

“He asked me out,” you mumbled from behind your hands, earning excited squeals from your friends.

“Now we can like, go on double dates and stuff!”

You laughed at the comment from Sam, finally removing your hands from your face.

It was surreal, but it was happening. After he tweeted you never thought you’d end up dating. After Chicago, it was a thought in your mind. After Paris, you wanted it. Now, here you were.