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sarahjkl82-blog · 4 years ago

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Artistic Instinct: Chapter 5

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 4,700 (yup, the words ran away from me!)

Warnings: Language.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

Art washes away from the soul, the dust of everyday life

Pablo Picasso

Chapter 5

Golden sunlight streams down in ribbons upon your hair, setting fire to the natural red highlights and causing the wrought iron railing to cast beautiful shadows across the floor. Marcus sits with you upon your hotel balcony in the late morning sunshine. You are now, a little more comfy, wearing your airport clothes- the high-waisted, wide-legged jeans and a mustard yellow and cream breton top that does everything to highlight the rise and fall of your curves.

He watches each tiny twitch of your face as you read notes from the meeting- your full lips pout and brow furrow as your gaze flits backwards and forwards over the words, making connections and drawing together the different pieces of information that you’d gathered from that meeting. Marcus tries to smother a chuckle when you unthinkingly roll your eyes and shake your head at the point where some idiot tried talking over you in the meeting and he can fully read from his position that you have scrawled TWAT across your notes in reference to that mediocre white man.

It’s at this sound, that you look up, “What’s up?” you ask tiredly, smiling amusedly in his direction.

“You’ve got such an expressive face as you read- I swear, it’s like your muscles are reliving all of the faces you wanted to pull in the meeting. You managed that jerk well in there.”

“I’ve been managing cockwombles like him my entire life. They’re fucking insidious,” you say turning your eyes back towards the screen, shaking your head at the memory of the all the arseholes who have gone before and all those who were yet to come. “If they had anything to actually offer, I’d accept it; but they just parrot shit back at you - the same shit that came out of your own mouth moments earlier - as if it is their fucking own, enlightened idea!”

“I can imagine.This level of work, even in the art fraud department, is such an old boys’ club,” he agrees, pursing his lips in annoyance of the invisible barriers that you must have come up against.

Nodding in agreement, you add with your head tilting to one side as you take the agent in, “You don’t seem to fall into that category, Marcus. You even handed the reins over to me in there- I should have just been your lackey today, not the one doing all the speaking. I appreciate you treating me like an equal.”

Rolling his shoulders and stretching the sides of his neck, Marcus looks off into the distance as he slightly straightens up in his seat, “My Mamá firmly entrenched the value of every human being in me, regardless of their gender. I don’t wanna bring it up again, and certainly never wanna upset you, but you should be my role in the team. Your aptitude for this role far outweighs mine,” he grins and turns towards you, “There’s a part of me that feels like a mediocre white man around you.”

“Well, at least you have decent enough manners not to mansplain my ideas back at me!” you laugh, hugely enjoying your boss’ company on that narrow balcony.

“You know, I didn’t recognise you wearing civvies in the airport? I was absolutely kicking myself for not taking a ride with you to the airport.”

“Yeah, I get that. After seeing me suited and booted, it must have been a shock to see a jet-lagged, middle-aged man in old jeans and a hoodie,” Marcus humbly chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you digging?” Your eyebrow arches high on your brow as you interrogate him teasingly.

“What do you mean digging?” Marcus furrows his brows as his eyes widen innocently.

“Digging for a compliment, you daft thing!”

“Hah, no! I meant it honestly. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and don’t even know the reflection that stares back at me,” he replies, shaking his head sadly.

“Pssh, you have nothing to worry about. Some of us can only dream of looking as put together as you. I generally look as though I crawled through an art studio backwards even if I use an iron and put make-up on- in fact, scratch that- I look worse if I iron and put effort into how I look,” you exhale despairingly at the memory of all the other immaculate recruits and your general throw-it-on, it’ll-do appearance. “Everyone else in my family is so incredibly smart- immaculate even- and yet, I stick out like a sore thumb. Like I didn’t quite pass the expectations of what it takes to be an adult. I swear that’s the reason my aunties think I’m not married.”

Marcus huffs a gentle laugh, “I think that’s a big part of it for me. For the amount of grey in my hair and the creases in my skin, I’m not where I expected to be at this point in my life.”

“Where did you expect to be, Marcus?” You cock your head to one side, listening intently.

A buzz suddenly emerges from your phone:

« On est en bas! »

“Ah they’re downstairs- but do not think for one second that this conversation is over,” you wag your finger in Marcus’ direction as you gather your belongings, “We will continue this later.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Marcus mock salutes you and clicks his heels together as he rises from his chair with a huge crunch from his knees, “See, what did I tell ya? Old. I’m gonna grab my things.”

Grabbing your trusty rucksack from the floor of the balcony as Marcus departs, you feel almost reluctant to leave the balcony and the conversation that you were having with him. Since he’d helped you through the anxiety attack prior to re-entering your old workplace, the two of you had found an ease in being around each other. Whilst you are dreaming of spending a day chatting with Marcus, he’s already back with a small smile and a soft look about his eyes as he catches you staring into space.

Walking through the hotel, Marcus and you could be thought of as any pair of friends on holiday with your giggles and gentle jibes towards each other as you walk down endless corridors to find the exit. There is no way that anyone would have said that you had met barely twenty-four hours before or that you were there as business associates with the easy air you treat each other. After crossing the elegant lobby, you finally reach the doors to the outside world, a wave of relief coursing through you to see that you didn’t have to make a decision as to which way to open the door as there is someone to do it for you.

As you reach their car, Jacques takes off his seatbelt and makes to get out of the car but Marcus waves him off, opening the door for you to jump into one of the back seats.

“Oh you weren’t kidding about the stickiness,” you mercilessly tease the pair sitting in the front seats. Élodie responds by sliding her front seat back as far as it can go and you yelp in surprise at the sudden crushing of your legs, slamming your fist on her headrest in mock anger.

“Please excuse the children, Marcus,” Jacques shakes his head and sighs deeply but Élodie reaches over and squeezes her husband’s thigh in a way that makes him yelp and laugh in the same breath.

Marcus and you catch each other’s eyes and grin at the playfulness. You might be here on business but at least you can enjoy yourselves at the same time. The stresses of the morning slowly ebbing from your mind, you stretch out, resting your head against the cool glass of the window and allow the hum of the car engine and gentle chatter to surround you, lulling you off to the sleep you had missed out on the night before.

✪✪✪✪✪

Something is tenderly brushing against your cheek and you instinctively nuzzle into the warm touch as your eyes start to open and the world begins to regain its focus, “Hey, sleepyhead! We’re here,” Marcus murmurs as he strokes your cheek with his thumb to rouse you from your slumber.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry,” you rub your eyes with your knuckles trying to rid yourself of the embarrassment of snuggling the fingers of your new boss, noticing that Élodie and Jacques have already left the car.

“No worries, your snores were pretty cute,” the agent teases you gently with a lopsided grin crossing his face.

“Lies! I don’t snore.” you exclaim indignantly at the accusations, but glad he hasn’t focussed on your reaction to him caressing your cheek, as your faculties start to kick in, reaching for the door handle to escape Marcus’ jokey impressions of your snores.

The mountain air in Grenoble strokes its icy fingertips against your neck, making you wrap the woolly softness of your cardigan more tightly around yourself. You notice Marcus also zipping up a black leather jacket over his hoodie. In the open boot of his car, Jacques concentrates on making a roll up next to a small bag of resources for you - cotton gloves, sample pots, tweezers and magnifying glasses.

“s'il vous plait, Marcus. Before we do anything else, I need to borrow your muscles,” Élodie announces to him, “We need coffee, and if I know that woman standing next to you, she will be in need of one, too!”

At Élodie’s statement, you watch Marcus’ face crease into a small smile, flashing that lovely dimple, as he crosses his arms across his chest. You wonder whether he's protecting his clothes from your next caffeine hit or trying to steel himself for the latest cheeky wink coming from Élodie. A slightly raised eyebrow is sent in your direction as his boots softly stride behind the clack of her heels upon the pavement.

A waft of tobacco drifts through the air as Jacques lights up as you watch his wife and your boss walk off in the direction of coffee.

“You left us, Nush,” Jacques scratches his nose as he looks at you through a cloud of smoke he has exhaled, “You disappeared. Literally, disappeared to the point that none of us could track you down.

“I mean, it is testament to what an incredible agent you are that you can just make yourself that invisible but…” he takes another inhale of the cigarette as he turns his shoulders to mirror your position, “But you weren’t even there for Jasper’s funeral.”

Silent rivers course down your face, “Please, Jacques. Don’t make me do this now. I can’t do this right now. Let me find my feet before we get into all of this. This is my first job since everything,” your hands trembling as you gesture wildly in the air. “I want to explain. I missed you both so much but I can’t right now. It isn’t the right time.”

Nothing more is said between the two of you as you both sit silently next to each other. Jacques nods contemplatively whilst he carries on sucking at his cigarette for comfort and release from the tension that has built upon his face. In the relative safety of the car boot, as he reaches across what feels like a chasm between you to pat your thigh, you can see the hurt searing through his eyes.

How did Imanage to destroy so much?

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus wonders how you are doing. He keeps looking back at you until you fade from his sight just to make sure that you are ok. He swears that he saw your shoulders and head drop as they seem to whenever you’re reminded of whatever those ghosts are that you haven’t managed yet to lay to rest.

“She’ll be ok with Jacques. Those two are like brother and sister, you needn't worry,” Élodie pats Marcus’ arm as she points in front of her, nodding towards a cafe. Seeing a small tic in his jaw, she adds with a small smile, “She’s special to you, non?”

After Marcus holds the door for Élodie, he shoves his hands in his pockets and pauses before saying, “Yeah. She is. I don’t think in all my years of working as an agent, that I’ve ever met someone like Anushka. Listening to her speak about art and the various different forgeries… it just transports me to a place... I’m not just in the museum seeing the original masterpieces. It’s not even just that I can see those pieces in front of me. Just by her words bringing them alive, I become part of the art. Her passion and knowledge is infectious and she cannot help but to enthuse everyone around- she is truly gifted.”

“Anushka is incredibly talented. She was born to be in the role but I would say that’s not the only way that you think she’s special,” Élodie gently analyses as she squeezes Marcus’ arm seeing a moment of panic cross his face- she tries to swallow down a laugh at how he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the biscuit tin, “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to Nush- she can be a bit like a wild animal at times. It can take time to earn her trust. The 5 Eyes team is separate from Mi5, non?”

Marcus’ brow furrows, “Yes, we work under slightly separate parameters as we work across five agencies across the world- sort of similar to Interpol. Why d’ya ask?”

“Ok, so if you were to start anything with her- if anything were to be allowed to develop between the two of you, could it result in disciplinary action or her losing her role? Hang on,” she pauses as the assistant behind the glass shelf raises their eyebrows in Élodie’s direction, alerting her that it is time to order, « Bonjour, quatre cafés s’il vous plaît »

Marcus adds « Et je voudrais deux pain aux raisins aussi, s’il vous plaît. »

“Oh, I didn’t realise that you spoke a little French- a man of many talents,” Élodie teases with a wink as she grabs her purse from her bag, “And let me guess, the food is to try to stop Nush from burning herself or you? That woman is a nightmare with drinks.”

Reaching across Élodie,who is about to tap her card to pay, Marcus passes the cashier a couple of notes that more than cover the total, grabs the coffees and goes to leave, holding the door open with his elbow. “Why d’you wanna know about how interdepartmental relationships are viewed?”

The creases on Marcus’ brow deepen as yet another hint of whatever plagues your past troubles his mind due to Élodie’s words, “It is not my story to tell, and I’m not sure I even have half of the facts but please be gentle with her. Come what may between the two of you.”

“Oh, look who’s come to join us!” Looking up after a sharp nudge to his ribs alerted him to speak no further, Marcus sees Jacques tucking a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear, then pulling your hunched shoulders into a side on shoulder hug as Élodie grabs a coffee and mocks throwing it in your direction, to which you stick your tongue out. You are so busy messing around with the pair of them that you don’t notice the tenderness in Marcus’ eyes or the smile that creeps across his face as he watches how your friends behave around you.

“So are we ready to look at a slab of meat? I hope you’re not a vegetarian, Marcus,” Jacques chuckles freely at the thought of the tall, broad American becoming queasy at a graphic painting depicting the decomposition of a piece of carrion.

“Oh no, I love rare steak far too much, and I’ve spent way too long researching art to be weirded out by a bit of expressionism,” Marcus adds before taking a long gulp of coffee, “I must admit that I’m not terribly confident in my knowledge of Soutine other than he liked painting rotting meat.”

Jacques smiles and gestures his head in your direction, “Nush- time to shine, chérie.”

“So - Soutine was a Russian painter, who made massive contributions to the Expressionist movement whilst based in Paris. I don’t want to teach you to suck eggs so please tell me to shut up if you already know it but expressionism was a modernist movement, initially in poetry and painting, originating in Germany at the beginning of the 20th century. Its typical trait was to present the world solely from a subjective perspective, distorting it radically for emotional effect in order to evoke moods or ideas. Expressionist artists sought to express the meaning of emotional experience rather than physical reality so you needn’t worry about the depictions of rotting meat as it isn’t like an anatomical drawing you’d find in a copy of Grey’s Anatomy or anything.”

Pausing to draw a breath, you look up to check Marcus’ face- that you aren’t boring him to death- and see two dark eyes, flecked with amber, that are entirely focussed on you. His entranced gaze makes you shift awkwardly, eyes dancing around the street to try and focus on something other than him under the sheer intensity but you decide to continue, “He’s quite an interesting character in regards to our case as he was good friends with Modigliani, who we know is another one with multiple fraudulencies of his works as well as our link we made in the meeting that our main faked pieces being sold by our group are by European Jews.

“Soutine seldom showed his works, but he did take part in the important exhibition The Origins and Development of International Independent Art held at the Galerie nationale du Jeu de Paume in 1937 in Paris, where he was at last hailed as a great painter but sadly soon afterwards, France was invaded by German troops and obviously as a Jew, Soutine had to escape from the French capital and hide in order to avoid arrest by the Gestapo. He moved from one place to another and was sometimes forced to seek shelter in forests, sleeping outdoors. Suffering from a stomach ulcer and bleeding badly, he left a safe hiding place for Paris in order to undergo emergency surgery, which ultimately failed to save his life.

“The main thing that you two need to know,” you add as you reaffix your focus and run your eyes between Marcus and Jacques, ”Is that Paul Guillaume was the main dealer of his work. Straight after World War 1, he was Soutine’s biggest cheerleader and landed him a major deal with the American collector, Albert C Barnes. If you manage to track it back to either of them, you’re pretty much at ground zero- back at Soutine’s own easel- and don’t need to worry much about further certification of validity as it being one of his pieces.”

Standing in the street in front of the cafe, you discuss between the four of you who will focus on which part of the checking for verification of the piece.

Marcus and Jacques decide to focus on the provenance of the piece and to be honest, you’re relieved to be free from the paperwork trail. The idea of searching through the records of previous ownership, fills you with utter dread at missing something that would prove that it was a fake. You’d hope that each piece could be instantly traceable back to the moment where the original had been removed from the easel by the artist but that is so often far from the truth of the situation as records are often lost or aren’t even kept in the first place with only a handshake to move the piece to the newest owner. When certain disreputable organisations or untrustworthy governments seek to obscure the origins of pieces, it is nothing but doors being slammed in your face and labyrinths created from lies and deliberate obfuscation.

“Ok, so Nush and I will collect samples from the piece. I’ll then use the microscope to check the samples for any irregularities in the craquelure in the craquelure while madam here uses the stereo microscope to check the layers of paint,” Élodie gestures towards you, passing a plastic case over containing your equipment. “Obviously we won’t be able to do an x-rays, infrared or mass spectrometry tests as they aren’t so portable but if we cannot confidently say the painting isn’t a forgery, then I suggest we get a courier to take it back to Lyon for us.”

“Agreed, I think that would be the best use of everyone’s talents here,” Marcus replies, nodding, “Are we far from the auction house?” to build up a more 3D picture of the piece. D’accord??” Élodie checks as she grabs a coffee and starts to walk off in the direction of the auction house with Jacques beating a steady path behind her.

With a small gesture of his hand, Marcus waves you forward and as you take a step in the same direction as your friends, a small white paper bag with a telltale sticky stain seeping through that you hadn’t noticed being held out, taps you gently against the soft curve of your tummy. With a confused look knitting across your face.

Marcus boyishly grins back at you as he takes a bite out of his pastry, “Last set of clean clothes, gotta take calculated risks with you around.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Slightly arched windows with flaking grey paint allow a small amount of crisp mountain light to trickle into the mellow gloom of the Aladdin's cave that stretch out in front of Marcus’ eyes. As far as his eyes can see, gilt framed pictures playing out a multitude of scenes from people’s lives- some more parochial and some edging to the more abstract- bedeck the walls. A goat playing a violin, a horse in a field and a lady all in blue with sad eyes and a nose twisted closer to her ears are all jostling for positions in the party on his senses. Every single nerve in his body tingles with excitement at the treasures surrounding him on all sides. The busy-ness did not stop at the walls as every surface of the room was covered in objets d’art with exquisitely fashioned chairs, tables and armoires creating an increasingly impossible maze to step through across the floor. Even the exposed beams of the ceiling felt the need to be a part of this gentle assault upon the eyes, protruding above his head, lending an elegant set of vertebrae to the room.

Marcus thinks he’s hiding his giddiness well until he catches Anushka looking at him with an amused grin upon her face. He goes to respond but initially struggles to find the words to explain the eagerness that is written across his face, his mouth stretched in a childlike grin, eyes lit up and hands that tremble and flex with anticipation. A small smile from her and the light squeeze upon his arm told Marcus that he needn’t worry about explaining anything. Even though the touch was slight and momentary, it cut through the overstimulation of the room and it takes every bit of self control he owns to not throw his arms around her and hug her tightly. Don’t mess this one up too, Pike.

Reopening his eyes, an elegant chignon of hair and high cheekbones makes its way through the clutter of Marcus’ thoughts and extends a delicate, papery hand in greeting. The owner seems to glide through the objects around her, obviously confident of the dead ends and exit points between the items as she leads you to a small office where a tidy pile of papers and a small computer await your services.

«Madame, comprenez-vous que l'utilisation de ces méthodes scientifiques ne peut que prouver que le tableau est un faux? On ne peut pas prouver si une pièce est authentique.» Madam, do you understand that using these scientific methods cannot prove if a painting is a fake? rubbing his brow, Jacques tries to explain to the owner of the auction house, «Même si les résultats de tous les tests scientifiques indiquent qu'il n'y a pas de tromperie dans l'œuvre d'art, nous ne pouvons pas dire sans l'ombre d'un doute qu'il ne s'agit pas simplement d'un cas d'un faussaire dépassant la détection scientifique.» Even if the results of these scientific tests show that there is not a forgery in this work of art, we cannot say without a shadow of doubt that there is not simply a case of a forger out-pacing scientific detection.

Marcus nods in agreement with the agent’s words. He hates the dishonesty of it all- the obviously incredibly talented painters creating mimicries and mockeries of the original pieces. As the owner spins out of the room, Jacques notices the frown painted on Marcus’ face and the tic in his jaw as he starts to flick through the portfolio of papers in front of him.

“Hey, what happened to the giddy boy in the sweetshop back there?” Jacques teases, gently punching him on his shoulder.

Rubbing his fingers along the side of his nose before scratching the patchy scruff that lines the edge of his jaw, Marcus smiles, “Hah! That obvious, eh? Just, kinda wishing that we weren’t even necessary.”

“Yeah, it is irritating but it does pay my mortgage,”Jacques chuckles deeply, “And to be honest without it, I wouldn’t have met that woman in that lock up over there and convinced her that she should marry me or have my baby.”

A pang of jealousy hit Marcus hard, “You’ve done well then. Mine just pays a mortgage on a place in DC that I won’t even be living in for the next couple of years.”

“Never wanted to or the opportunity never arose?” Jacques quizzes not lifting his eyes as he reads through documents.

“Your setup with Élodie is something I’d love to have,” he nods sadly, “Just have one failed marriage - due to her infidelity and lack of wish to try and work things out, and a failed engagement as she was in love with another man - to my name. No, I’d love to have that vulnerability and affection with someone again. Kinda feels like a pipe dream now- not sure anyone would want to take on someone with such a creased up, greying ol’man.”

“Hah, have you forgotten my wife’s quite genuinely visceral reaction to meeting you?” Jacques laughs heartily, rolling his eyes at the mere suggestion from Marcus, “Believe me, you do not have anything to worry about there. It’ll happen. Usually- in fact, always, when you least expect it.”

With a soft huff and a slight lift from the left side of his lips, Jacques strains to hear Marcus’ whisper, “I truly hope so.”

“Hang on, whose name was it that we were looking for that would pretty much guarantee authenticity?”

Jacques’ face creases in concentration as he tries to rack his brains for the names Nush had provided earlier, “Bof...Paul something-or-the-other French and Albert something-or-the-other American, I think.”

“Hmmm, I think I’ve a document here with both of their names on it… Shall we go share it with the ladies?”

«Bonne idée. On y va. » Good idea. Let’s go.

Grabbing the pile of documents from the polished walnut bureau, there’s a sweet bubble of excitement building in Marcus’ tummy. Try as he might to convince himself that it was on account of being out of the tiny office and back around an exquisite masterpiece from the early twentieth century, deep down he knew there was another sweeter, more ancient and primal reason that made him want to be in the lock up.

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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

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The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought.

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #first written work #first published work #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #please excuse any mistakes #thanks for reading!#first dates w/ avengers #💙🦾

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mochikeiji · 4 years ago

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Mission Accomplished [Kuroo Tetsurou]

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Warning: Mafia AU, jealous/possessive Kuroo, daddy kink, cursing, slight impregnation kink.

GIF is not mine!!

"Impossible. I don't think it's possible that a woman like you is already married."

The smell of wine and cigarettes filled your nostrils in the most disgusting way. The man beside you looked like those typical scum bags that will get into any girls with the power of his money, or by force because he happens to be another rival gangs leader.

"I most certainly am, good sir. And my husband will not be pleased to see you acting so inappropriately around me."

Lightly cheering at the back of your head, you took a sip of your wine, eyes darting ahead on the bartender in front of you who was just wiping the cups. But even if you indirectly said no to a man, it automatically translates; "No no, take me." which is why he happens to move in closer, wrapping an a around your waist, and squeezing your flesh.

"Now, now. Let's not be hasty, sweetheart. Why not—" he reaches out for roll of cash from his pocket, grazing it on the exposed skin of your breast thanks to the revealing dress you were assigned to wear. "For a load of this, for a night with me. Seems a fair trade don't you think?" holding back the urge to slap him for touching you without your consent and out of respect, you had to remember why you let Kuroo and the rest of Nekoma pursued you to do this mission with them.

"How bout you take your arms off of my wife, and take a load of shit, asshole."

Hiding a smirk, it just so happens your husband was the bartender in disguise. "Hah? You married a commoner? Baby, I could give you more than he can." a click of a gun next to his head made him flinch. His arm falling off of you as he raises them in defense.

"And I could give you more than 10 bullets stuck in your rotten skull if you don't shut up, and cooperate with us, sir." Behind him was Kenma. Even though his voice sounded so calm, you can feel the venomous threat laced upon them as his cat eyes were dilated.

"And for the record, kind sir." your husband faces him, pulling on the latex gloves on his hands with a smirk. The man pales when he's got a good sight of who your husband really was, "This pretty lady here is married with someone who can make you disappear from the face of the earth." gulping, he stayed silent. Kenma pushed the gun roughly on his head, as a warning to not make any movements. "You better cooperate well with my guys. Yaku is especially very furious with what you did to him."

This man had caused Yaku his leg. Fortunately he was still able to walk, but deciding on getting revenge for attacking their group, and for injuring not only him, but Lev as well. Yaku had made Kuroo agree to his plans. The hardest part with Kuroo was letting you join in as bait. He wasn't allowing his wife be the kind of sightings for un worthy men. Yaku said he could be near them as she speaks with the target, that's why he was disguised as a bartender.

Having to bear the minutes of that bastard touching you, and fucking letting his fingers close to your breast almost made him grab his gun that was hidden below the counter, and shoot him dead. Luckily, Kenma had sharp senses and sprung into actions before it was getting messy around the bar. Not many people have taken a notice that two of the strongest people from one of Tokyo's top mafia Group was within them. Which was a good thing since they didn't want to have to deal with the police again.

"We'll take care of this, Kuroo. I'll let Yaku know." Kai had popped out of no where next to Kenma, cuffing the wrist of the man who was no longer uttering a single sound. "Terribly sorry you had to get yourself into this, (Y/n)." he bows. "It's fine, Kai. I enjoyed the thrill." You glared back at the man, "Tell Yaku to shoot him harder for me." Kuroo snarls. The two men nodded, and escorted him out. Without prying eyes capturing them. Now you were left with a seething Kuroo.

"Car, now. Don't make me tell you twice."

You bit back a smile knowing what the outcome would be once you got home. Quickly getting out of your seat, you strut out of the bar, letting Kuroo's eyes wonder your back side, admiring how the dress fits you perfectly letting the good parts be prominent for his eyes.

The ride home was quiet. Only because you had to hold onto your seat as he drives in a pace that surely might've gotten him arrested for speed limit driving at night. But when Kuroo was angry, you'd be better off silent. You didn't want him to take you on the car. You weren't planning on having sex til dawn in a cramped up space. Almost hitting your head when he parks swiftly in front of your house, he slams his door shut, opening yours and carrying you inside. Kicking the door behind without any ounce of care anymore.

"Bastard." now finally on the soft cushions of your shared bed. He gently throws you on bed on your stomach. Letting your ass up on the air. You watch him pull up the hem of your dress, revealing your bottoms for his glowing eyes. "Did you really have to let him enjoy shamelessly stare at what's mine?" your toes curled a little when his gloved hand lays on your ass cheek, feeling the latex glove come contact as it massages in a soothing way. "If he had his hand on your ass back there." The air had a strong whip of sound, coming contact with your ass as it stung. "I would've shoot him down if it weren't for Kenma." You whimpered. Spanking you was suppose to be punishment, but being a secretly masochist girl, you found this punishment of yours hot.

Another blow was made on your ass. You gripped the bed sheets as you bit down, muffling your pleasurable whimpers. "Would you look at that." his fingers found their way on your clothed pussy, pressing against them, feeling warm, sticky substance stain them on his gloves. "You're getting wet." he continues to rub you from behind. Feeling good, you rubbed yourself on his fingers with your own pace, loving how it gave you sparks of pleasure. He lets you do as you please, licking his lips at the sight of your panties getting more, and more wet as you went on to get off, "Cute, you must really love it when I do this to you." using his other hand, he places another spank on your ass, his fingers still rubbing the wet spot of your panties. His hands felt so good hitting you from behind, your ass fitting perfectly whenever he grabs hold of them before giving you another spank. Borrowing your face on the sheets, whimpering quietly as tears strung on your eyes when your butt began to feel sore.

"Aw, is my baby going to cry?" he stops, pushing your hair out of your face. He feels himself get turned on at the sight of you getting wet from just his spanking— letting yourself submit to him so easily made him feel so much power over you. Glancing at your underwear, he pulls the waistband of it, and lowers it down. Exposing your now red ass, and wet lips. "Damn. " pressing is fingers against you, moaning out when he inserts one inside, testing the waters. "My fingers slid in so easily, baby." he spreads your lips, hot breath covering your throbbing sex before giving it kitten licks. You raised your hips a little higher, moaning at the feeling of his mouth slowly eat you out.

"So fucking divine." he lets his fingers take over your lower lips, "All mine." hearing the wet sounds coming from his fingers, you panted, "Daddy." his vision becoming dark after that left your lips. You whined when he pulls his fingers away, licking in your wet substance, positioning the tip of his dick behind.

"Take Daddy's cock like a good girl, princess."

Gripping the sheets tighter, you moaned out. His cock reaching in the right places inside, deliciously long and perfect for you to take in. "DADDY!" You screamed as he thrusts back in. Giving you your favorite pace— hard, and fast.

"It's much more hot fucking you in your dress." panting, he pulls you up against his chest, groping your breast with his lips attacking your neck. "This is what he wasn't allowed to touch." snarling at you, squeezing your breast around his hands. You can feel him become more and more possessive as he curses out to the man in his mind. No one was allowed to look at you that way, or even get as close to touching what's his. Grounding his hips on your ass, he lands another spank on you, loving how your greedy pussy eats him in. The way your body shook against his hold. Because of him, no one else.

"You love this, do you? Only I get to wreck you like this, hm?" his balls hitting you as he clenches his jaw, giving you slow, but powerful thrusts. "Only Daddy can do this, right? I'm the only person you love fucking with." his hand grabbed the base of throat, lightly choking you as he places trail of butterfly kisses on your back to your shoulders. You couldn't listen to him, you let yourself wonder off in cloud nine. Wanting his hand to choke you more as he fucks you from behind.

"Answer me, Princess. Daddy doesn't like it when you're quiet." he bites on shoulder, loving the way you shuddered, and looked at him with your mouth panting open, "Cum, Daddy. I want you. Only you, please. More." The hand on your throat raises up two fingers, plunging them in your mouth as you moaned loudly into them. "Goddamn, babe." moaning at the arousing sight of you choking on his fingers, he can feel his own cock twitch inside of you. He watches his own dick slide in and out of you, biting his lips, he can feel himself cumming.

"Fuck, Daddy's going to cum." he removes his fingers from your mouth. His arms immediately slithering around your waist, holding you against him as his thrust began to get sloppy. "Will you let me cum inside? Get you nice, and full." clenching harder because of his dirty mouth, "HAH— DADDY— KUROO! PLEASE I'M SO CLOSE." You screamed from below, pushing your hips up with shaking legs.

"PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME!" your begging made him place his forehead on your back, focusing on the sounds of your pleading and moaning mixing in a dangerous way, letting his kinks out, "I'm going to fill you up so good. Fuck, I want to see you dripping with my cum." Biceps and muscles flexing underneath, "I'm cumming, baby girl." he grunts, you screamed at the amount of warm load inside your walls. You were getting close, as he continues to empty himself, his fingers rubbed circles around your clit, moaning a little loud when you suddenly clenched on his sensitive cock, "AH DADDY—" you came around him, your cum sliding from his cock, and fingers. Small droplets on the sheets as he rides you out.

He pulls out slowly, watching your little body overflow with the amount of cum he let out. "I came hard, didn't I?" with a teasing tone. You slumped down in bed with him still on top, eyes slowly dropping with your lower half aching. "I was not done with you yet, princess." he purrs, giving you feather like kisses on your sweaty features, his eyes still dark, and his pupils dilated in want, "We're not resting until you're absolutely filled by me." whimpering when you felt something hard poke your thigh, you let yourself submit to your husband knowing you were powerless against him.

"We're not resting until you make me a Daddy."

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disruptedvice · 5 years ago

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Hey Stranger

Starmora AU - Prompt: "Hello stranger, you don't seem very good at hotwiring a car. It's the blue wire you should use. Or would you like the keys instead?"

Gamora cursed internally, cracking the door open a bit, unable to take the heat of the car any longer. She had wanted to keep the door closed- less suspicious that way, but she was already sweating like crazy and felt like she was dying. She didn't want to wait for the symptoms of heat exhaustion to set in. And if she could just get these damn wires right, she'd be able to turn on the AC and get out of here.

"You don't seem to be very good at hot wiring a car," a voice said from behind her, and Gamora's head slammed into the underside of the dashboard, cursing as she was caught literally red handed- there were so many colored wires, she'd pretty much been trying to find the right combination by process of elimination. With absolutely zero success.

"It's the blue wire you should use," he continued. "Or would you like the keys instead?"

Double shit. The car owner. No chance of convincing a gullible person she had lost her keys and had no way of contacting someone. Though a good samaritan probably would've called the cops when they saw what she was doing, not approach her and start talking to her.

She slowly brought her head out from under his dash to glare at him, kicking the car door open a little wider so she could bolt if necessary.

The man looked totally at ease, coffee in one hand, and far too amused by the situation. He should have been angry, confused, or scared. Maybe a mix of all three.

Not smiling like this was some friendly conversation.

She still had sweat dripping down her face, but she didn't say a word. She was still analyzing the situation, weighing all her options.

He tilted his head to the side, a thoughtful hum that might have sounded concerned. "You've been working at this for a while, haven't you?"

He had parked a block away from the shop, one of the side streets that didn't get much traffic, and was much easier to find a place and pull out of than the busy main street. Besides, walking to his car was gonna be his exercise for the week.

He had been amused and maybe a little thrilled to see his car door propped open, someone's foot still on the ground and digging around inside. Cause seriously, of all people, him? His car?

Once he got closer, he could see it was a woman, who very clearly had no idea what she was doing. She kept pulling and trying to connect different exposed wires at random, and after two minutes of standing by his bumper and watching more or less over her shoulder, he decided to interrupt. She was clearly working on movie knowledge; not an experienced car thief in the slightest.

But now that she was looking at him, he wondered how long she had been working in his car with all the doors closed. She was wearing all black too, and Peter had gotten an iced coffee today for a reason- it was hot as hell.

"Yours was the only one unlocked on this block. First one I found, anyway," she explained with a tense shrug.

Which yeah, makes sense. Peter didn't really lock his car much. Didn't have anything to steal in it anyway.

"Got somewhere you need to be?" He asked casually.

"Anywhere but here," Gamora said with a bitter laugh. Of course when she finally had an opportunity to escape, the one illegal skill Thanos hadn't taught her was the one she needed. Their rides were always provided for them when they were sent to do his dirty work. She had never needed to steal a car before.

And now she was in this city with no contacts, no safe houses to lie low in, and her best bet was getting as far away from here as possible.

The man starts reaching for his pocket, and before Gamora can react to him possibly reaching for a weapon, he pulls something out and tosses it to her.

She catches the keys in her hands. Gamora blinks down at them, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Are you serious?"

He shrugged. "You aren't exactly a criminal mastermind," and oh, how wrong he was there. Not for this type of crime. "I mean, you really suck at stealing cars. If you're desperate enough to try and hotwire a car for the first time for god knows how long in the middle of summer, figure it's probably for a very good reason. Besides, it's not mine anyway."

Gamora hissed. "It's stolen?!"

"Eh," he waved his hand in a so-so gesture. "No one's looking for it, if that's what you're asking. The vin number doesn't match though, but state's only do their own registries for that stuff, so as long as you don't get pulled over in Nevada, you'll be fine."

She looked doubtful, her jaw clenched, obviously conflicted as she cast her eyes between him and the keys, and back to him. Definitely didn't have many people to trust.

"Really," Peter promised, his voice soft but sincere. "I know what it's like to steal a car because you're desperate. Trust me, you're it," he said, a wry smile at his lips that seemed more self deprecating than anything. "Whatever you're running from- you can have the car and go as far as you need to go. You probably picked the best car to steal, honestly. It won't get traced back to you, and won't even get traced back to me. The papers in the glove box check out, you won't run into any problems. Except if you get your oil changed in Nevada. Literally any other state runs the vin number and you're good. Anywhere else, you're golden."

Gamora closed her hand around the keys. "Thank you," she said quietly.

The man nodded and stepped back as she turned them in the ignition. If she was alone, she might have cried in utter relief at the sound of the engine starting.

She quickly closed the door and pulled out of park. She adjusted the rear view mirror, seeing the guy who just gave her the keys to his car wave goodbye.

She held up her hand in a weak thanks, and drove away.

She didn’t even know his name. ____

Gamora made it two blocks. Before circling back around to find him again.

He hadn't made it very far, just walking on the sidewalk with his iced coffee like that was his plan all along, like he didn’t just help someone steal his admittedly shady car.

Maybe if he had been a normal person, she would’ve left. Just taken the car and never looked back, rather than risk someone who was just trying to help her getting caught up in all of this.

But he obviously had criminal ties of his own (as did she). And Gamora was so tired of running.

She didn’t have anyone to trust in this city, but whoever he was- he had less than legal connections, and that was safer than trying to outrun a shadow.

Peter was surprised when he looked up and realized he recognized the car that had slowed down next to him, and recognized the person driving it.

She rolled down the window. “I’m on the run from the mob!” She called out. “You wanna get involved in that?”

It took Peter a second to realize it was an invitation, then, he smiled. “Sure, why not?”

He climbed into the passenger seat of his car without a second thought. ____

"I hope you have some place to go, cause I sure as hell don't," Gamora's nervous chuckle was only slightly forced, the impulsiveness of her actions starting to catch up to her. This wasn't part of the plan. She didn't have a plan.

The only plan she had was run.

This was so far out of bounds of anything she'd ever done. And she didn't regret it at all.

"Yeah," he said, and proceeded to rattle off an address.

She paused, "uh… you know I'm not from around here, right?" Maybe she should've let him drive his car she just stole.

"You'll be driving along this road for the next ten minutes or so, then take a left on Magnolia. Only a few streets on from there. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

Gamora breathed out a sigh of- relief? Something, at finally having a plan, a place to go, even something as simple as literal directions to a destination. It was more than she’d had since she broke away from Thanos. More than she’d had in a long time, really.

Peter looked over at her, not really sure if this was the right time, but he’d never had much impulse control. “So, you mind me asking how you got mixed up with the mob?” His elbow rested near the passenger window, fingers idly tapping the car interior, going for casual instead of curious like he really was.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I used to work for them.”

Now that got his attention. When he heard her problems were mob related, he expected something more along the lines of a troubled family member, maybe some bad business with a loan shark- you know, normal people reasons for getting involved with the mob. If he had to take a guess, he’d go with medical debt that a loan shark was intent on collecting upon. That was getting more common these days. People borrowing from less than reputable sources to pay hospital bills, and the interest rates on mob money- you couldn’t get out of that. And if you went to the cops, you’d find your house burned down that you put up for collateral six months later, all chalked up to an electrical fire. Pretty good reason for wanting to get away.

But working for them- now that… that he was not expecting.

He hadn’t pegged her for a criminal- she was so bad at stealing cars.

“What’d you do for them?” He asked before he could stop himself.

She tensed all over, her jaw tightening, and kept staring straight out the windshield in silence. Definitely the wrong thing to ask.

Peter cringed, slumping back in his seat, ready to shut up for the rest of the ride. Just when she seemed like she was starting to trust him.

Gamora breathed out slowly. He should- he should know. He might decide not to help her, but he deserves to know the truth. He would be getting ‘mixed up’ with the mob too cause of this, just because he was… kind. Whatever car thief/chop shop operation he at least had some ties to didn’t mean he deserved to die if Thanos ever found her.

“The worst of it?” She said with a forced levity. “We had guns for that. And we used them.”

She had no desire to be more blunt than that. She was sure he got what that meant.

He didn’t react. At all. She kept waiting and waiting for something- anything, but nope. Nothing.

“That a problem?” Gamora tried to keep her tone as bland as possible. Hearing someone heavily imply they used to kill people for the mob- it didn’t exactly inspire confidence if they sounded like they were one wrong move away from snapping.

Peter hesitated. Then, “Not so long as I made a good first impression.”

Gamora laughed, surprising even herself. She took a quick glance over to see him still looking at her, seeming genuinely delighted at making her laugh. She quickly refocused back on the road.

“Very good,” she assured him. She was more hesitant to say this next part, because sharing made you vulnerable, and any vulnerabilities could be exploited, but- she really didn’t want him to think badly of her, that she killed people by choice.

Still, she chose her words carefully. “My time with them was less than voluntary.”

“Kinda figured,” he said with a lopsided smile that was actually kind of charming. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Gamora.”

She still didn’t know what she was going to do next, but she knew she wasn’t going to have to figure it out alone.

He was right. She really did pick the best car to steal today.

#starmora #gotg fic #gamora #peter quill #guardians of the galaxy #Fanfic #fanfiction #mcu #AU #marvel #my gotg fics #my fic

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brooklynislandgirl · 4 years ago

Note

I like guessing games. Tell us all one story and we'll play pick the cowboy.

Like...so ya no can judge. Aftah work, snuck into da kane lockah room, which was empty excep’ f’ me an’ f’ him, right? So our eyes lock an’ we start stripping down to our unmentionables, which is a funny term for undahpants because just callin’ dem dat...means ya mentioning dem, but I digress.

So yeah, strip down to skin, change into black pants, boots, shirts wi’ dem long sleeve. Uh...Henley? some kind like dat. Den we put on black face paint like wear dem soldier, cops, an’ professional at’letes. A bag of tools borrow from da SWAT team. We were on a mission.

No body cams of course.

We went to da place an’ wait til dark. Two people got into car an’ left, no can say where dey were goin’ but we were waitin’ for dis. Earlier dat day, I messed wi’ da gate so it no lock even if it did shut. My cowboy come over an’ fiddled wi’ da wires t’ da box dat housed da electricity to dis gate, an’ bypassed da circuit so it would cut da juice but not trigger an alarm. He looked amazin’ goin’ over da concrete part of da fence, backside strainin’ agains’ da cloth...mmm.

Anyway, non-detection measures in place, we open da gate an’ we walk in like we own da place, an’ dere on da back porch was da target of our mission. I hunker down onto da grass, kneelin’ dere, an’ for a minute, one gloved hand in my hair givin’ it a scrunch dat make butterflies in m’ belly.

Reach into one pocket of my cargo pants an’ pull out a handful of special cookies, cause no need for trauma, right? Sparky come runnin’ over, tail a’waggin’ an make soft low noises, kinda like whimpers, real submissive like, which only added a’ edge of rage t’ my nerves. See... Sparky had very bad kine owners. On several occasions anonymous calls were made t’ animal control, an’ no kine happen. Den dey start gettin’ not so anonymous calls, reportin’ dat da poor pup was bein’ left wi’out food an’ waddah for twelve-fifteen hours a day. Dat he was bein’ kicked, an’ had rocks an’ da kine t’rown at him. Broken leg, burned flesh, et cetra because he no was pedigree show dog. An’ every day he still was a sweet boy to him owner.

So we perfec’ly plotted an’ orchestrated his liberation from da grasp of an abusive home, which didn’t involve one or bot’ of us straight up shootin’ da bastards. We were determine dis poor baby nevah again get drop kick, or have fireworks tied to his tail.

Anyway, Sparky no make a peep, hopped into da car, an’ off we went, once we reset every kine back to its original state, leavin’ no trace.

We drove oh, I dunno. Mebbe... almos’ two t’ousand miles straight ovah on da I-10, to a frien’ of mine who live in New Orleans at da time. Professional groomer an’ animal parent dat I know from some of da more militant animal rights boards we frequent. Of course I made sure she had da resources t’ take care of him, an’ his name change t’ Scout. He now safe, livin’ in a great place wi’ lots of four leg friend an’ a family dat love him.

Aftah dis, d’ough, we were exhausted an’ crashed out a’ one local hotel, curled up togeddah, arms an’ legs tangle, pleased dat we execute da rescue of one small soul who no could help himself. An’ dat turn into a kinda t’ree day bender of lots of oddah kine. No regrets.

#Mahalo!Nonny Mouse <333 #She's Talking to Angels {Bethisms}#Making Wishes on Passing Cars|Answered Asks #Thin Blue Lines|verse #California Screaming #Anonymous

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sofya-fanfics · 5 years ago

Text

A Pair Of Gloves

I'm sorry for the mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. I hope you like it.

Summary : It was a simple pair of gloves. But when he looked at it, he could not help thinking about the woman he loved.

Disclaimer : Downton Abbey belongs to Julian Fellowes.

1914

Tom took off his jacket and put it on his bed. He sat in his chair and sighed to eliminate the stress of his body. He had just avoided a dismissal and had just been reprimanded by Lord Grantham. But he did not care about that. What mattered was that Sybil was fine. He could not even dare to imagine what he would have done if something had happened to her. He thought about it again and again. If he had been faster, if he had been able to foresee the movement of the crowd more quickly, if he had insisted more for them to leave. He could have avoided all of that. Someone knocked on his door. He opened it and discovered Sybil. She seemed intimidated and did not dare to enter, which was not her habit. He noticed that she had a package in her hands. He regained his senses and invited her to enter. He tried somehow to tidy up his room under her amused eyes.

‘I'm sorry Lady Sybil,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘I did not expect a visit.’

‘I'm sorry for disturbing you.’

She took a deep breath and said :

‘I wanted to apologize for what happened at the meeting. If I had listened to you and had not been so stubborn, I would not have caused you all this trouble. I told Dad that it was not your fault, it was all mine.’

‘Do not worry. Lord Grantham did not dismissed me.’

Sybil smiled, reassured.

‘What’s important,’ Tom continued, ‘is that you're alright.’

Tom invited her to sit on the chair, apologizing that he had nothing more comfortable and he sat on the bed in front of her.

‘I also wanted to thank you,’ Sybil said. ‘Cousin Matthew told me that you helped me. Please, accept this as a thank you gift.’

She handed the package to Tom and he accepted it. He opened it and Sybil was impatient for him to discover his present. Inside he found leather driving gloves. He had never seen gloves of such high quality, and he suspected that they must be worth a fortune.

‘I ... I can not accept it.’

‘Please. It's the least I can do. I noticed that yours were worn out and I thought those might be helpful.’

Tom took the gloves out of the package and ran his thumb over the leather.

‘Try them,’ Sybil asked.

Tom slipped on the gloves and noticed that they were as comfortable as he imagined. He could not help thinking that he should not accept such a gift, but before he had time to say anything, Sybil spoke.

‘I'm glad, I was afraid it would be poor fit. I'll leave you before dad realizes I'm gone.’

She headed for the door before he had time to refuse the gloves and then she turned to him.

‘Good night Branson.’

‘Good night Lady Sybil.’

Sybil went out. Tom looked at the gloves one last time and smiled. The next day, as Tom drove the three Crawleys sisters to their grandmother's, Mary noticed the new gloves that the young man was wearing.

‘You have got very beautiful gloves,’ she said.

‘Thank you Lady Mary. It's a gift that was given to me.

‘It surely be worth a fortune. This person must really like you.’

Tom nodded slightly to Mary and glanced quickly at Sybil who was staring at her knees, blushing. Tom smiled and thought that maybe the young woman was feeling the same than him.

******

1919

The war had been over for several months. After all these years of horror, the world could finally heal its wounds. Unfortunately, the flu epidemic had raged in Downton and had taken away a loved one. Sybil realized that life was fragile and that she had to stop being afraid and she had to accept her feelings for Tom. The couple had left Downton Abbey to get married. They knew that no one would accept their union. He, a driver, and her, the daughter of Lord Grantham. Tom had never been so happy, but he was also scared that one day she regretted her decision to marry him and give up everything she had. Housed in a small hotel room, they decided to spend the night before they continued the road. In a few hours, the Crawley family would know their intention to get married. Tom saw Sybil take the gloves he had put on the bedside table. Her face lit up with a tender smile.

‘You still have it ?’

‘It is precious to me. Even worn and damaged, I have never been able to part with it.’

He came up to her and hugged her.

‘I can not wait being your wife,’ she said.

‘You don’t regret it, don’t you ?’

Sybil shook her head and looked at him in the eyes.

‘I have never been so sure of myself.’

After a kiss, Sybil headed for the bed, while Tom sat into the chair he had put next to her. Both fell asleep, unaware that Mary and Edith had gone looking for them.

******

1920

Tom put Sybbie in her cradle and looked at her. She was sleeping tightly and she was so innocent. He wondered if she understood what was going on around her. She was born a few days ago and she had lost her mother. Tom heard someone knock on the door. He did not greet this person. He did not want to be rude, but all he wanted was to stay alone with his daughter. Tom looked up and found Mary standing on the other side of the cradle, her eyes red from crying all night. Tom thought he should say a few words to comfort her, but he did not have the strength. Mary had lost her sister and he had lost his wife.

‘She's beautiful,’ Mary said with a sob in her voice.

Tom nodded. She was perfect. If only Sybil could see her. Mary coughed slightly to clear her throat.

‘I know that nothing I can say will ease your grief, but you know that Sybil loved you and that she was happy. More happy than I have ever seen her.’

‘If only I had listened to Dr. Clarkson.’

Mary came next to him and took his hand to comfort him. Tears were running down her cheek.

‘It's not your fault. Nobody could have foreseen what was going to happen. Not even Dr. Clarkson. This is no one fault and especially not yours.’

Mary headed for a small table and saw Tom's gloves.

‘It was a gift from Sybil,’ Tom said.

He came up to the table and took the gloves. They were now worn.

‘So it was Sybil,’ Mary said. ‘The person who liked you. I should have seen sooner that you loved each other. I'm glad you found each other.’

Mary sobbed and Tom took her in his arms. Tom cried too, thinking about the life he could have had with Sybil and what he had lost.

******

1960

Tom drove in the snowy streets to Downton with Laura Edmunds, now Branson, whom he had married thirty years ago. On Christmas Eve, the whole family was reunited. Mary, Edith and himself with their children and grandchildren would spend the holidays together. The estate now belonged to George, even if Mary still had great responsibilities. The time had passed and Downton was different. And yet it remained majestic, despite all the trials it went through. Tom parked in front of the house. The times were different and nobody was there to welcome them. He rang the bell and the butler opened the door. He had been hired only a few months after Thomas had retired, after years of work for Robert and George. Tom could not help thinking of Carson. The butler led them to the living room, where the whole family was. When they entered the living room door, a brown tornado jumped into Tom’s arms.

‘Grandad !’

It was Andrew, Sybbie’s son. She took Andrew in her arms and kissed her father and her stepmom. The Christmas festivities began with the meal and the distribution of gifts. Andrew was playing with his toy cars in the living room and took Tom's gloves to mimic the drivers.

‘Be careful, Andrew,’ Sybbie said. ‘These are the gloves that your grandmother gave to your grandfather.’

Tom, who was sitting on the couch, watched the scene, smiling. Andrew loved these gloves and borrowed them whenever he played with his toy cars, although they were much too big for him. Lucy, Sybbie’s eldest daughter, sat next to her grandfather.

‘Grandad,’ she said. ‘Can you tell us the story of grandma Sybil's gloves ?’

Andrew abandoned his toy cars and sat on his grandfather's lap. Tom told them him and Sybil’s story. The story of the wonderful woman he had married and how a simple pair of gloves had become his most precious possession.

The end

#downton abbey #tom x sybil #downton fanfic #fanfiction #sybil crawley #tom branson #My writing

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thirstygirlclub · 5 years ago

Text

Duchess - 18

Chapter 18 – Good Butt Jeans

(I'm just telling you now, this is like 2 chapters in one.)

As I slung my dance bag over my shoulder I checked my phone and left the club. I needed to let Mr Chibs know I was on my way home so he could unlock the door. There was a text from Mr Lowman on my screen, in all capital letters as usual.

'BE READY TOMORROW 8PM. WEAR JEANS SNEAKERS AND BLACK SWEATER.' Was all it said. I never really understood why he always used capital letters to text me. Maybe he thought I was blind?

'Jeans?!' I replied; tapping quickly with my thumbs but barely needing to look at the screen to type, 'UGH! Can I wear shorts instead?'

'JEANS.'

He must have been awake. He had been working tonight so he couldn't walk me home but ever since those guys attacked me he was extra paranoid about me walking home on my own. It didn't matter how many times I told him I would be ok he didn't let it go.

'What about wedges instead?"

'SNEAKERS. 8PM."

It was Mr and Mrs Chibs' anniversary tomorrow and they had a lot of couple things that they wanted to do so Mr Chibs asked Mr Lowman to 'babysit' me for the night. I had already dropped an overnight bag and Romeo over with Mrs Lowman so he could settle in; I would be completely alone for the night. I don't know what Mr Lowman had planned and he refused to tell me. Apparently it was a surprise.

The light was on when I got home and I knew Mr Chibs would be sat in the armchair waiting for me. I turned the keys in the door and basically fell through because I was so sleepy.

"Shit!" Mr Chibs exclaimed, almost spilling the coffee out of his cup and onto his lap, "I'd gotten used to Romeo telling me when you were home."

"Sorry," I whispered and slipped my sneakers off, "it's weird, huh?"

He nodded and stood up to come over and take all of my bags out of my hands. He looked curiously into my money bag and shook it so all of the bills rustled inside.

"Good haul?"

"Yeah. That businessman from Nevada was in again so," I shrugged, "he always give me loads of money. I really wanna know what he's setting up but he won't say anything. All he says is that he's going to be rich and then asks me to dinner."

"Bastard," Mr Chibs laughed and hung up my stuff on the hooks behind the door next to his skeleton man jacket, "keep working your charm; he'll open up eventually."

"They always do."

But I had literally been trying for weeks to find out what he was doing and listening to the phone calls he made but so far there was nothing. I didn't need to know but not being told made me want to know even more. I was like a kid like that I guess. But I had tried literally everything. I sat on his lap, showed him my chest and put my butt basically in his face and he just didn't do anything. I wondered if maybe he was gay.

"That's my girl. Right, I'm going to bed. Make sure you text Hap to tell him your home or he'll be out here banging on the door in 10 minutes."

I nodded and let him kiss me on the head before telling him goodnight and watching him stomp up the stairs with his little slippers on. He was so cute. I turned to go into the living room to change into my pyjamas and finally flop into bed. I reached to get my phone and let Mr Lowman know I was home so we could both get to sleep. It was so cold in bed without Romeo to cuddle but it would only have to be for one night; I just had to hug my pillow until then.

(((((((())))))))

I dressed in the clothes I had been told too and hated it. I looked like a boy and I didn't have any purses that would even match my current outfit so I had to keep my phone and keys in my pockets which made it look all weird and lumpy. Is this why men didn't wear bags? Because nothing matched their boring clothes. I had to borrow a hoodie from Mr Chibs again. It was just a plain one because he said it would probably be best not to have something with their club name on it. That just made me more suspicious. Mr Chibs was wearing a suit and Mrs Chibs was wearing a pretty red dress and I gasped when I saw them together; they looked so beautiful.

"Be good for Happy," Mrs Chibs said, "don't cause too much trouble."

They looked at each other with a smile before turning to leave. I watched Mrs Chibs back the car out of the driveway and waved at them. I hope they had a nice time tonight; they deserved it. I still had about 30 minutes until I found out what it was I had to wear jeans for. There wasn't really anything I could do in 30 minutes so I literally just sat on the doorstep to wait for Mr Lowman and thinking about what we could be doing. I hated not knowing things. Suddenly I heard the sound of a motorcycle coming up the street and I looked up. He was early.

I always thought that he looked so badass and cool on his motorcycle with his helmet on and stuff. We were in matching outfits today. He didn't come up the driveway like usual and he didn't get off; he just sat there looking at me.

"They took the car," I said and pointed stupidly to the driveway, "so we can't go anywhere far."

"Come on," he gestured with his head to the back of his motorcycle, "we need to go."

"On that?" I moved my pointing finger to him.

When he turned the engine over and climbed off I noticed he was wearing a big, heavy looking backpack on his back. He wasn't wearing his jacket today, only a black hoodie the same as me. I stood to meet him still looking up with wide eyes. The thought of riding on the back of his big, scary machine was making my heart beat in my ears.

"Where's your stuff?" He asked, looking over me until I rattled my sweater pockets, "Ok."

He reached into them and took out the keys and phone to put in the backpack. One of my favourite things about our friendship was that we weren't shy around each other and he didn't think twice about stuffing his hands in my pockets like I wouldn't to him. Then, he dragged me over to his motorcycle by the front of my sweater.

"Put pegs on yesterday," he told me almost shyly when we got to it and pointed to two black stick things on the back.

Before I could say no, protest or even walk back towards the house he had walked behind me and put his arm around my stomach so he could lift me easily, as if he was just picking up Romeo, and put me on the back of his motorcycle. I shouted in surprise but at the same time I was really impressed. I put my hands on the seat in front of me to steady myself because I was worried I would fall off and look stupid in front of him. Mr Lowman didn't say anything and just grabbed my arms and looped the backpack onto my shoulders. Luckily the straps were loose enough that it rested on the seat behind me. He rooted through before I heard him zipping it up and something was put on my head then he started tucking my hair into my sweater.

"What's this?" I asked and looked up as if I could see on top of my head, "A helmet?"

He hummed and made sure the bag was secure on my shoulders before coming around to face me. He smiled when he saw me looking up at him from under the wonky helmet then reached out to tighten it under my chin where I could feel his leather gloves brushing on my skin.

"If you kill me," I warned him and moved the helmet so it felt more comfortable, "I'm gonna be so mad."

Mr Lowman just rolled his eyes and carefully climbed on, making sure he didn't kick me, and reached behind him so he could grab behind my knees and pull me so I was close to him. I squeaked and gripped onto his sweater tightly. I held him with my knees and wrapped my arms fully over his stomach. He tilted the machine and did something with his feet before turning it on. I was pretty sure that he would be able to feel my heart beating against his back and how much I was shaking both with fear and excitement. I gripped onto his hoodie as if that would keep me balanced. When it started moving I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut.

Eventually, when I did relax, I had fun although I could see why he said I had to wear jean; it was kind of cold. I liked seeing all the buildings and cars going by quickly and he was a really good driver so I stopped being scared quickly. We zoomed smoothly through the traffic and around the corners. I still didn't know where we were going but I also didn't really care. I recognised the street where he lived but then didn't stop when we passed his house. Now I was confused. I thought we might be going to his house he took me streets and streets away to a quiet neighbourhood where all the houses had big yards. They weren't big houses but they were spread so far apart that it made them look huge.

We stopped down another side road that didn't have any street lights and the silence when he turned off the engine hurt my ears.

"What are we-"

But he shushed me and stood up. I wasn't happy about being shushed and glared at him but I doubted he could even see me it was so dark.

"Come on," he whispered and unclipped his helmet, waited for me to struggle with mine and then helped me off.

When I stood up I almost staggered back because I had forgotten about the bag on my back and it was so heavy. He laughed and grabbed my arms so I could steady myself. I'm pretty sure it weighed more than me. He didn't let go of my arm and took me further down the dark street. He didn't even need to hold me because I was hugging his arm really tightly. I didn't understand how a street could be so dark when the one just next to it was at least kind of lit up. I felt the ground under my feet go from concrete to dusty and rocky. I could kind of see some trees against the stars. Was he taking me out here to murder me? I don't think I had done anything to make him angry.

I couldn't even talk; I was so nervous so I just clung to his arm until I saw a building in the distance. It looked like a really run down house. Mr Lowman pulled a torch out of his pocket and shone it over so I could see the tall fence that surrounded it. Beyond the fence was a small, abandoned looking house with the windows smashed and the roof caving in. He gently pulled his arm away from me before scrambling up the fence like a kid climbing a tree then disappearing over the other side.

"Throw the bag over," he told me, "then come over."

I didn't even think that what I was doing was possibly illegal because I was just so surprised. Did he bring me out here to help him break in somewhere? I slipped the bag off of my shoulders and pushed it over the top of the fence; hearing it thump to the ground on the other side. It sounded like metal hitting the ground. I stepped up to the fence and I think Mr Lowman realised at the same time that I did that I wouldn't be able to reach the top to even try and climb over because he appeared back over and held out his hand. Without thinking, I reached up and took it so he could help me up until I was balanced on the top. There were splinters in my hands and I felt like I was going to fall. I don't know how he made this look so easy. Maybe he had a lot of practise.

"Oh my gosh," I gasped when I felt a piece of wood or a nail or whatever go into my pants and heard a ripping noise.

"What?" Mr Lowman hissed, dark eyes looking up at me in worry.

"These are my good butt jeans and now they're ripped! I'm gonna have to buy a new pair."

"The fuck are good butt jeans?" he asked with a confused frown.

"Jeans that make my butt look good, obviously. I'm stuck up here, can you help?"

"Your butt looks good anyway," he reached up to put his hands on my thigh to see if he could free me, "don't need jeans for that."

Mr Lowman had seen more of me than anyone had since I was born I think. I didn't mind because he wasn't weird about it but I understand that it was probably weird seeing your friend almost naked and dancing around. I also told him that he didn't need to only ask me for dances because there were loads of other girls that wanted to dance for him but he turned them down. The girls got really annoyed about that but I found it funny.

"Aw!" I cooed and put my hand over my heart with a massive smile; that was such a sweet thing to say, "Do you really think- oh gosh!"

He had obviously given up trying to get me down gently and just grabbed my arms to then pull me downwards; catching me so I didn't hurt myself before putting me on my feet gently and tugging the hood of my borrowed sweater up over my hair then doing the same with his. It hid his entire face and I couldn't help thinking he looked kind of like the skeleton man on the back of their jackets. When he raised his finger to where I pictured his lips would be I felt my heart thud in my chest. What were we doing? Was he forcing me to do illegal things? Mrs Chibs told me to be good.

"Mr Lowman…" I whispered, voice shaking and looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Trust me, ok?"

I nodded. I would always trust him.

He let me hug his arm again as he led me over to the house. It was disgusting and had obviously been abandoned for a really long time. There were smashed windows and shopping carts in the yard. I didn't understand why we were here. The door was already opened and when we stepped in Mr Lowman made me stand in the doorway while he went further on into the house. All I could see was the torchlight moving behind things and then disappearing into another room although there must have been a hole in some of the walls because I could still see flashes until one by one the rooms were lit up with small lantern things in the corners. When the whole bottom floor was dimly lit I could see how disgusting it really was in the house.

I squeaked and stepped back out into the yard and crossed my arms. Why would he take me to a place like this? He knows how much I hate dirt and mess and bugs. When he appeared at the doorway his hood was down and he was smirking at me. I was so busy with starting to tell him off that I didn't notice the baseball bat in his hand until he held it out to me.

"What the heck?!" I exclaimed and slapped it away but I only hurt myself, "Are you going to murder me?"

"Come see," was all he said and gestured back into the house, "you'll have fun."

Now I was nervous and curious but I'd be lying if I said the thought of doing something probably illegal wasn't exciting. I walked back in and found him in what looked like it used to be a living room. There was a ripped couch and chairs, coffee table and pictures on the wall. Mr Lowman passed me the bat and I took it.

"You need to let of steam," he told me and pointed to an ugly ornament on the coffee table.

I shook my head. I couldn't do that. I can't break something that wasn't mine. Even if it was mine I wouldn't break it. I gripped the handle of the bat tightly. I had never held one before and it was weird. Mr Lowman stepped back and folded his arms; watching me closely and patiently. I knew he wouldn't take me home until I at least hit the thing. I lifted the bat and weakly hit the ornament but it didn't break or crack, it just fell over with a dull thud.

"Mr Lowman-"

"Try. You'll feel better."

There wasn't even anything wrong with me though so I didn't understand. I took a deep breath, fixed my eyes on the item then swung down again but harder this time. When the bat hit the fake china it burst and shattered into pieces. I hated to admit that it felt good. Mr Lowman was smiling and nodding as he grabbed something else to put on the table. It was an old plate. I did it again and again as he gave me things to smash. When I was in the swing of it Mr Lowman left me to it and started smashing things of his own.

I was in my own world, swinging the bat at random things like the walls, the tables, the furniture and just everything I could find that I thought might be breakable. I didn't even care that it was illegal because it was fun. I made my way into the kitchen, breathing heavily and sweating as I heard Mr Lowman grunting and smashing things in another room. I thought the kitchen might have had more stuff to break. When I did though I saw two canisters on the floor, the same as the ones I used to destroy Mom's car, and the smell of petrol filled my nose. It was like they were waiting for me to see them. The excitement pulsed through my chest and I knew I couldn't just leave them. Throwing the bat aside, I pulled Mr Chibs' lighter from my sock. It was my favourite one; a heavy, zippo style with a skeleton man engraved on the side. I always made sure to keep it filled.

I grabbed the canisters and skipped into where I heard Mr Lowman having fun. When I appeared in the door I could feel the smile on my face. I was so excited I had forgotten he wasn't supposed to know I was crazy.

"Look what I found," I said to him, still panting and bouncing on my toes, "can we?"

"Have at it," he said, nodding and grinning at me.

Immediately I ran back into the living room to get started. Fabric burned quickly and well so I would start there. There was literally no point in starting in the kitchen. I poured just a small amount over the back of the furniture and along the arms. The lighter lit quickly, that's why I liked this one so much, and I stared at the flame just for a second before crouching next to the arm of the chair. It took instantly; spreading first over the arm, travelling up over the top and then down the other arm. I moved onto the couch then the other chair and just stood back to watch it. I loved that feeling; it was like relief as soon as I saw it, smelled the smoke and heard the crackling of the fire burning onto the wood of the furniture. I felt someone standing behind me but I didn't care because the flames were spreading over the back fully. There were hands on my arms, pulling me backwards but I fought them off. This was the second best part.

"I need to do more," I told Mr Lowman and picked up the other canister, "on the other side."

I walked through the smoke of the house, coughing slightly through the hall, to the temporarily clear air of what used to be a bedroom. Instead of burning the bed I stood up on it and threw the gas over the back wall and onto the ceiling. More smoke filled the air as I lit the corner of the comforter of the bed and watched it travel up the dry fabric and the floor before finally going to the wall. I was dragged backwards as the ceiling started burning and this time I let him. If I was alone I think I would have been hurt. The smoke started to hurt my eyes because I was watching wide eyed and excited.

I had never burned anything this big before and I wasn't sure how happy I would be with going back to burning trash cans and cars now. Maybe Mr Lowman would know about more buildings like this.

"We need to go Babe," he said in my ear, brushing the hair away from my neck gently.

I heard the sirens in the distance and I realised suddenly that there was nowhere that I could hide. When I was in the town I knew where all the dark doorways and alleys were that I could easily hide and watch but we were almost in the middle of nowhere. I nodded to him and took his hand as we walked quickly through the house to the back door. The living room was now completely engulfed which made me smile. Mr Lowman crouched on the ground next to the fence and laced his hands together. I knew this move from cheerleading. I put my hand on his shoulder and my foot in his hands. Just as easily as he had pulled me up to get in, he stood and lifted me so I could grab onto the top of the fence and pull myself over.

As I waited for him to join me on the ground I looked around and as the fire spread over the house and the lights from the approaching firefighters lit up the fence I saw the DANGER CONDEMNED: KEEP OUT sign on the outside. He took my hand again and pulled me away but once we were far enough away that we couldn't be seen but close enough to see what was happening I stopped; digging my heels into the dirt.

"Catherine-"

"This is the best part." I whispered, turning to look at my work, "Just until the cops come. Please."

His face was lit up with a faint orange light which made his eyes look so dark and his face so pretty. He looked over my face then nodded; stepping closer to me and joining me behind a dry, dead bush. I knelt on the ground and watched the firefighters shouting at each other and taking out the big hosepipe and working to put out the flames.

"The fire people don't look," I said over my shoulder where he was crouching behind me, "but the cops will. That's why we need to go before they come."

"This is the best part?" Mr Lowman asked quietly.

I nodded. It was hard to explain in actual words but I think that it was because I didn't really control anything in my life right now. I couldn't look after Jack, Mom or myself and I couldn't have stopped Daddy from dying even if I wanted too. I didn't have my own place to live or even my own room; I slept on a couch in someone else's house. Even my wages were decided by the men I danced for. But destroying things and making people work to stop whatever it was I did was satisfying and it made me feel powerful.

"Cops," he said, "we really need to go."

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Sure."

I nodded and stood up to run back through the desert then back onto the concrete. He gave me the bag back and it was a lot lighter than on the journey here. I didn't even think about climbing on the back of his motorcycle this time and just held onto him. As we drove down the street about 4 police cars went the other way and it made me smile. Mr Lowman had ducked his head down and I turned my face away from them, just in case.

(((((((())))))))

His house was dark when we went up the driveway and the dogs didn't even bark. Mrs Lowman must be asleep. On the short drive back I had time to realise that he knew my secret now but he didn't seem to care. He let me climb off first then just sat looking at me.

"Don't tell Mr Chibs," I whispered, looking down at the ground and kicking a stone with the toe of my sneaker, "because he's gonna be really angry."

"Promise," he nodded.

"You don't care I'm crazy? Like, you don't mind me staying in the house with your mom and stuff?"

"You care I killed a guy?"

I shook my head because I had gotten used to that now and I knew he was a good man. I thought about it a lot though and had decided that if he hadn't done that then he would never have met Mr Morrow and moved to Charming so I would never have met him.

"Then I don't care you're crazy. Come on. I'm tired."

I nodded and followed him up the drive and then into his dark house. The sound of two sets of paws on tiles came towards us and I said hello to our boys; asking if they had been good and if they were happy to see me. I think they were because Romeo's tail was wagging and Scrap's butt was wiggling where his tail should have been.

"Momma and Papi are finally home," I cooed quietly to them, "I know, I know, we were gone forever."

They sniffed the gas on my hands and the smoke on my clothes then sneezed and it was so cute. Mr Lowman led me through his house to his bathroom because I think he knew I would need a shower after just being in that house but now I had the smell of smoke in my hair and on my skin. He didn't have the hair problem. I watched closely while he showed me how to use it and then gave me a towel to use.

In the shower I washed the soot out of my hair and cleaned my skin using what I guessed was his shower gel so when I got out I smelled just like him. It was a nice, comforting smell. It was also kind of funny to picture him stood in the store choosing stuff like this; I don't think he really cares but he always smells the same so I guess he liked it enough to buy it over and over. Once dry and dressed in my shorts and tank top I padded into his bedroom. I had only ever seen it once before and remember it being plain and he didn't even have a lightbulb or lamp on his ceiling light. I felt like I should maybe help him redecorate.

"Better?" he asked when I sat on his bed and towelled my hair gently.

I yawned and nodded. He had been hovering in the corner of his room holding a pair of sweatpants and watching me until I held out the towel. He nodded in thanks then disappeared out and I heard the shower starting again. When I turned to look around I saw a fresh hot chocolate on his bedside table in a cute pink cup with flowers on it. It was the one I always used when I visited.

I had literally no idea what he was doing but he was in the shower forever. He didn't even have hair to wash. By the time he was out I had already finished my drink and already snuggled up under his blankets. The pillow next to the wall was really fluffy and comfy and had obviously never been used. It made me feel happy. As I started to fall asleep I heard the shower turn off and the door opening. I opened my eyes and smiled when I saw him stood in the doorway, still slightly wet from the shower, shirtless but holding the towel over his shoulders like a superhero cape. He looked just as beautiful as the first time I had seen his tattoos but now he had a scar on his stomach which made me feel guilty just looking at it.

"You took so long," I mumbled sleepily and reaching out to him, "I missed you."

Mr Lowman apologised quietly then stepped into the room fully but didn't shut the door so the dogs could come and go when they wanted.

"You're so pretty," I continued as he pulled his duvet over and got in bed, "it's not fair."

"Shut up," he chuckled and settled himself down before turning off his bedside lamp.

"I'm serious! You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen and I'm happy you're my bestest bestest friend. Even if you have killed someone."

"And you're an arsonist."

I hummed and nodded although I doubted he could see me in the dark.

"Not an arsonist though," I said and yawned, closing my eyes and snuggling in as I drifted off to sleep, "I looked it up on the internet. It's called, like, pie mania. Pie oh maniac. Pie…"

"Pyromaniac."

"Yeah. That's it. They say I should get help but I like it. I'm gonna show you my scrapbook because I worked, like, really hard on it and no one can see it."

I was talking about the scrapbook of different newspaper articles about the fires I had set and interviews with the townspeople. Everyone was nervous and people were scared their businesses would burn down but I would never ever burn down anyone's livelihood that they worked so hard on.

"Tomorrow," he said quietly.

I hummed in agreement again and fell quickly asleep when I felt his arm move and his hand in my still damp hair; he knew that it made me relaxed. I could kind of hear him saying something but my brain didn't take it in. I just assumed he was talking to the dogs.

(((((((())))))))

I was woken up really suddenly by the sound of my phone and Mr Lowman nudging me awake so I could answer it. I held out my hand so he could hand it to me but all I got was thin air.

"You're literally so annoying," I groaned and sat up so I could lean over him to get my phone from his bedside table, I squinted at the bright screen and saw it was Jack, "Hello? Jack? What time is it?"

I flopped back down to my side of the bed and closed my eyes again.

"It's like… 7am. Cat, can I ask you to do something?" Jack asked nervously and I nodded, "It's… it's the parent-teacher thing tonight and since Mom has gone AWOL… Can you come instead?"

I opened my eyes slowly and looked over to Mr Lowman to see that he was looking at me curiously. I nodded; letting him know that Jack was ok so he could stop worrying.

"Sure. What time is it?"

"Thanks," he breathed a sigh of relief, "I just… The teachers are really getting on my back because Mom and Dad didn't come to the last one and if no one comes to this one then I'm gonna get in shit. It's at 5 tonight. Is that ok? I can ask if they can change their times-"

"5's good. I'll be there, don't worry. Be good in school and I'll see you tonight, ok?"

"Thanks Cat. I'll see you later."

I said goodbye and hung up before yawning again. It was way too early to be awake. I gave Mr Lowman my phone to put back and rolled back over to go back to sleep but he wasn't going to let me.

"What was that? He ok?" He asked from behind me.

I basically told him the entire conversation and explained about how Mom has abandoned us so I was technically Jack's parent now. That's why I needed to get us a place where we could be together again. I know he was safe and happy with Aaron and his family but I wanted to make sure myself. Even though I spoke to him on the phone like every other day or whatever it wasn't the same as seeing him in person. Besides, I kind of missed living with him but I would never tell him that though; I needed to keep up the whole big sister thing.

Even after half an hour I still couldn't get back to sleep so I gave up. I hated waking up before I wanted too because I could never get to sleep afterwards and I think Mr Lowman was the same. He was being annoying today. He literally didn't move even though he knew I wanted to get out; he just lay there and watched me struggle. All I wanted was to get dressed.

"Can you just move? Stop being annoying."

He grabbed onto my ankle as I stood to step over him. He was smiling though which made me smile too. I liked it when he smiled; he was so pretty and it made him look a lot less scary.

"Fine," I laughed and sat back down to crawl over the end, "if I'm staying over more often then you're gonna have to move your bed away from the wall."

"Who says I want you back here?"

"You love me. Obviously you want me to stay over again."

He didn't say anything to that and just watched me rooting through my bag. I was used to him looking at me by now though. It was like I was his favourite thing to look at sometimes. I understood in the club and stuff when I was dressed up in my sparkly costumes, big shoes and looked pretty but when I was just in my pyjamas with messy hair and no makeup I didn't understand it. I also learnt not to look back at him because he got embarrassed that I caught him although he pretended not to be.

I greeted Mrs Lowman when I saw her on my way to the bathroom and she was going into the kitchen. She looked happy to see me. once I was wearing my normal, non-boyish clothes and heels I stepped back into Mr Lowman's room without thinking. I immediately wished I hadn't though because he was midway through getting dressed himself. He wasn't naked but he was definitely not fully dressed. I had never seen his legs before which was kind of a weird thought. Maybe I just assumed he just wore sweatpants under his jeans.

"Oh my God," I squeaked and jumped back; slamming the door shut, "I'm sorry."

I heard him laughing quietly but he didn't say anything. My face was all hot but I was frozen in the hall. I didn't want to go and talk to his mom while I was blushing because then she would ask me why but I couldn't just stand outside the door because then he would come out and see me. My feet shuffled and I just decided to go talk to his mom because I could always just say Mr Lowman embarrassed me or whatever.

"Are you hungry, Princesa?" Mrs Lowman asked, looking at my cheeks but not saying anything, "I have some pancakes. Happy says you like those."

"Please! I love them. They're, like, my favourite food right now. What do you have with them? I like syrup and blueberries."

Mrs Lowman shook the little container of blueberries at me then put it on the little dining table. I helped her to plate up the food because she was having trouble with holding the heavy looking pan. I put the pancakes on the plates and she decorated them. She made a smiley face with bacon on what I assumed was Mr Lowman's plate.

"He always liked this when he was a boy," she told me and chuckled, "he would always say, 'Look Mama, it's me!' He used to be cute, believe it or not."

"He was? I can't imagine him as a kid," I laughed and turned to put the food on the table but jumped and gasped when I saw Mr Lowman leaning in the doorway and looking between us with a smile, "He's being annoying today, Mrs Lowman. Tell him."

Mrs Lowman hit her son lightly with the folded towel she was holding and said something in Spanish to him which made him breathe out a laugh. I thought maybe I should learn Spanish because people would maybe hire me for jobs that weren't dancing if I knew another language. Maybe they could teach me.

"Are you sitting?" Mr Lowman asked and I realised I was just stood in the middle of his kitchen while I was thinking.

I put the food I was holding on the table and made sure that his pancakes were the right way around and he smiled down at them. He was still cute but I didn't want to say anything. Romeo came skipping in with Scrap behind him and sat at my feet; they knew I was the weakest one and couldn't resist sharing my food with them. Mr Lowman almost never shared his with the dogs.

"Do you want breakfast?" I asked them excitedly, in a high pitched voice, "Do you? Yes? Yes?!"

I laughed as the higher my voice got, the more excited they got and Scrap was shuffling on his front feet. I fussed him and then Romeo before standing to find the dog food cans in the bottom cabinet under the sink. I shared some out in different bowls and put them on the ground for them.

"Are you thinking about children, Princesa?" Mrs Lowman asked me and I looked around at her confused before she explained, "You are just so good with your boys. Maybe you would be a good mother."

"Oh… I don't know," I said vaguely and put the can in the trash then thinking better of it, washing it out and putting it in the recycling, "I haven't really thought about it since we moved here. When we lived in LA it was kinda expected, you know? Like, I was gonna marry a rich guy and have a baby and just be a housewife or whatever but I think I want something different now."

I shrugged. Daddy always said I would need to marry a rich man because I had expensive taste but he would maybe set me up with someone he knew so I didn't have to make any decisions. I never decided anything for myself back then but I'm way more independent in Charming and I preferred it. Mr Chibs was really good with that because he would let me talk at him about different things until I made my own decision; he never told me what to do but he did give me good advice. And he never told me he was going to set me up with one of his friends or business people either. He told me that he literally didn't care what I did as long as I was happy. I was happy by myself for now because I had good friends and Mr Lowman.

"And anyway," I continued and sat back down, "I'm gonna be living with Jack soon and that will be bad enough."

(((((((())))))))

We spent the entire day together and it was the best thing ever. On the way back to Mr Chibs' house we went to the condemned house so I could see it again. The feeling of going back and reliving it was almost as fun as doing it in the first place. There was loads of police tape around it but we just went under it and looked around. The living room was the worst; the furniture just looked like skeletons and there was a huge hole in the ceiling. I pointed out my favourite parts to him and he just kind of nodded and made agreeing noises but then showed me his favourite parts too. He liked the way the walls in the kitchen were almost all black with smoke except for under where the pictures and stuff were. When we were back home, Mr and Mrs Chibs were still in bed so I could show him my scrapbook and he was really impressed with it. I'm not sure if he was impressed with the articles or the decorations I put on all the pages. I'd like to think it was both. He really liked the page with the one about the fire outside the police station.

I was sad when he left though. I liked being with him; he made me happy and feel not crazy. Like, I could finally talk to someone about everything and he didn't judge me or tell me I needed to get help or whatever like the internet told me to do. I was just getting ready to start walking to the school when I heard the sound of a motorcycle outside. when I opened the door I saw him parking up where he had last night and looked at him confused.

"I can't go anywhere," I told him over the front yard, "I've got to go to the school."

"Yeah," he shrugged and slipped his backpack off his shoulders and pulling out the other helmet before holding it out to me, "get on."

I looked down at my pretty dress and high shoes. I wasn't sure how good of an idea it was.

"I'll come get you."

He went to stand up off of his seat which made me think of the way that he grabbed me last night and I was kind of tempted to be stubborn just so he could do it again but I was wearing a dress and I didn't want to show the whole neighbourhood my underwear. I shut the door behind me to go over to him.

"I'm wearing a dress, Mr Lowman," I said when I was closer, "and high heels. Last time I had warm clothes on."

"You look nice."

I blinked in surprise. He looked just as serious as he usually did but he had complimented me so much over the past two days. By so much I mean, like, twice. He moved forwards in his seat as if to make room for me to get on then started to take off his leather jacket and handed it to me before he unzipped the hoodie he had been wearing underneath it. I patiently waited to see what he was doing then was left holding his sweater.

"Put it on."

"Oh! Thanks."

The sweater was all warm and snuggly from when he was wearing it and I tried to climb on as gracefully as possible. It was harder to get comfy when I was trying to keep my dress from flying up and my feet kept slipping forwards on the pegs. I held onto his t-shirt as he drove towards the school. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot but it was easy to park a motorcycle. He helped me off again; holding both of my sweater covered hands while I swung my leg over. He also stood in front of me so no one could see up my skirt.

"Cat! Happy!" I heard Jack shout, "Over here!"

We looked over and I saw Jack stood with Aaron and Mrs Lawson. Ugh. I hated her. I waved and Jack jogged over to us. He hugged me which was a surprise but I laughed and hugged him back anyway.

"You look so cool. Can I have one of those sweaters?" He asked Mr Lowman who nodded with a smile, "Are you coming in too? I told my teachers you might."

"Jack-"

"Oh come on Cat, he's like my big brother now."

I saw the small smile turn slightly more kind and I couldn't say no. I nodded and waved to Aaron, ignoring Mrs Lawson, and followed Jack into the school to sign ourselves in. Some kids shouted over to Jack and I told him to go because we could find our own way around with the little map from the nice receptionist. There was a list of 7 teachers that we had to go and talk too, starting with his homeroom teacher.

I put the 'VISITOR' sticker on the middle of Mr Lowman's chest on his t-shirt and patting it for good measure. He was so solid.

"Ok," I said and looked at the map, "his homeroom is this way. Mr Grieveson. Let's go."

"After you."

I nodded and took his arm before turning to wave to Jack and his friends who had already been looking over. They all waved back enthusiastically which made me laugh. The school was a lot smaller than the one I went too and Jack's old one. Some of the things were slightly run down but the teachers seemed like they were trying their best with what they had.

There was someone already in the room so we had to wait outside. I bounced on my toes. I hadn't been in a high school since I left so I felt weird. I hated school because I wasn't very good at any of it except for gym, dance and music. All the main subjects were horrible and I failed almost all of them but I had high hopes for Jack because he's so clever.

When the other parents came out they looked at me weirdly then up to Mr Lowman with wide eyes. He didn't look like he cared though; he just tugged on one of the curls behind my head so it was stretched out before bouncing back to normal.

"Are you Mrs Duke-Dillinger?" Mr Grieveson asked me with a confused look over my borrowed hoodie and high heels, "For Jack?"

I didn't think my outfit was that bad today. I know the hoodie didn't match but I had it unzipped so you could see my nice dress underneath it. Then I realised why they were giving us weird looks. They thought we were Jack's parents.

"Miss," I corrected, "I'm Catherine, his sister, and this is Happy. He's a close friend."

"Oh! It's nice to meet you. I thought you looked a little young to have a 15 year old son. Where are your parents?"

I hesitated. I wasn't really sure what to say. I couldn't say that Daddy was dead and the last time I saw my mom was months ago in the hospital then she disappeared. I just told him that they had been away on business for a while but we didn't know when they would be back.

"We, myself and the other teachers, are just very concerned about Jack," the teacher said once we were sat down, "and his living situation. He's living with another student, if I recall? With Aaron Lawson and his family?"

"That's right," I nodded and shuffled in my seat, "yeah."

"Why is he not living at home with you?"

I felt like I was in trouble and even though I was a grown up and had been out of high school for a long time it was like I was having a meeting with one of my teachers. I didn't know what to tell him because I didn't want Jack to be taken away from me. I know that they would take him to a foster home or something if they found out our situation. They wouldn't care about me but there would be trouble for him. I didn't want him to be uprooted again and put in another new school and have to make more friends.

"Our house… um…"

"They got burgled and it was trashed," Mr Lowman said for me, putting his hand on mine that I hadn't even realised had been tugging and wringing the hem of my dress around, "so Jack lives there and Catherine lives with a friend. There's cops and shit in their house."

I looked at him in a way that I hoped was thankfully and then nodded at the teacher. I was so glad Mr Lowman came with me now.

"I'm so sorry! Jack never said anything- I just thought you were having trouble with him."

"No Sir. I'm looking for a new place for us both but it's hard to get somewhere close enough to the school and we have a dog so we need a yard and houses in this town are so expensive."

I held Mr Lowman's hand tightly instead of pulling on my dress and his thumb rubbed over the back of my hand gently. It was comforting. I didn't know it was going to be this stressful. I got grilled some more by this teacher then the time was up and I had to move on to the next teacher. When we were out of the classroom and the door had closed I went to hug Mr Lowman. I felt so stressed. my forehead was on the visitor sticker and my eyes were squeezed shut tightly. Being a parent was hard.

"It's ok," he mumbled to me, stroking the back of my head, "who's next?"

"Math teacher. It should be good. He's good at that."

I pulled back and got the map out again before leading him through the school. All the teachers said the same thing; he needed to do better. His grades had been dropping, his behaviour had gone down and he never did his homework. He had gotten really bad. Jack used to be a really good student but since moving here he had just started misbehaving and rebelling. I know it was because of the family stuff. I was just blaming myself and felt like a horrible big sister.

After the last meeting I felt deflated and sad. The teachers had given me armfuls of work that Jack had to catch up on. I needed to get a house and I decided that the next house that was in my budget would be the one that we moved into. I needed to watch him.

There was a small crowd gathered and kids cheering in the entrance hall when we went out to try and find Jack and when I saw who was in the middle of the circle my heart sank. He was in there with another boy, face covered in blood and hitting him angrily. He was shouting and screaming at him, things I couldn't hear over the shouting. I looked around and the parents were just looking on like they didn't know what to do even though there were two teenage boys trying to kill each other in front of them. Luckily though Mr Lowman was there because he didn't think twice. He barged through the circle of kids and took both boys by the back of their shirts; ripping them apart and pushing the boy Jack had been fighting with backwards. The crowd had gone silent as soon as he stepped into the circle then the whispers started.

Happy/3rd Person POV

Jack was used to his friends having crushes on his sister and making comments about her. He knew she was pretty but what he had never had before was someone coming over to him and showing him a picture of his pretty sister wearing nothing but lingerie stuffed with money on a stage, kneeling down in front of men and smiling. She was barely recognisable but he knew it was her all the same.

"That's your sister?" Brian asked with a snort as Catherine and Happy disappeared down the hall, "I beat myself off to her every night, dude."

Jack saw the picture and then he saw red. He swung his fist and cracked the other boy square in the nose; making blood explode down his face. Brian wasn't as big as Jack and he wasn't as strong but he defended himself pretty well. People gathered around and, even though they didn't know what was going on, they cheered anyway. They were cheering for Jack because no one liked Brian and everyone liked Jack.

Before he knew it there was a strong hand on the back of his shirt and then on his chest and he saw Happy stood in front of him. He had his back to him because he had pushed the other boy roughly out of the way. When he turned to look at Jack he looked over him, as if checking he was alright, then looked down at the dropped phone with the picture of Catherine still on the screen. No one had seen it, the fight distracted everyone, and picked it up.

"Take him outside," Happy said to Aaron as he saw the angry tears building in the teenagers eyes; he knew Jack wouldn't want to cry in front of the people that had been cheering him on, "I'll finish it."

"Come on Jack," Aaron said to Jack gently, taking his arm and putting his arm over his shoulder, "let's go."

Happy turned back to the other boy. The look that he had probably thought was badass and tough had dropped instantly and he just looked like a kid. Happy held up the now dark phone.

"Who took it?" He asked and the boy whimpered, "Who?"

Brian knew who Happy was. The people who didn't know who he was knew he at least looked threatening and dangerous while he was stood there in his Sons of Anarchy kutte and pissed off expression.

"My- my dad. He saw her at the club and-"

Happy snapped the phone in half with his hands and handed the pieces back to the boy.

"You or your dad disrespect my girl like that again I'm gonna come for you, get it? Tell him. He ain't coming back to that club."

"I'm a kid-"

"You think I care?"

Then there were gentle hands on his face and then pushing him backwards away from the boy. Happy kept his eyes fixed on the kid for a couple of seconds more before he looked down at Catherine's kind eyes and worried face.

"Jack's ok," she told him, nodding slightly, "don't worry. He's ok."

Happy nodded and put his hands on her upper arms as if to ground himself then let her lead him back through the crowd and outside. Jack was stood with his head on Aaron's shoulder and hugging him tightly. Catherine was holding his hand as they walked and he liked that. Jack looked up as they approached and nodded at Happy. Jack was going to tell Catherine about what happened.

"We're gonna take a walk to the diner," Catherine said to him, "if you wanna meet us there? I'm buying you boys dinner."

"Sure," Happy nodded, "I'll get the table. Four?"

He looked at Aaron to check if he was coming and nodded when Aaron did. Catherine smiled at him but she looked sad. She was a good big sister but the meetings and seeing her brother had made her feel bad, he knew it just by the way she looked so defeated after every teacher they saw. The things the teacher had said about Jack made him think of the way he was in school and the way Mama must have felt when she went to his parent-teacher conferences. If Jack kept going the way Happy had there would be trouble and it would break Catherine's heart. He was going to talk to some of the guys and maybe get him help.

"See you soon, ok? Thanks for coming in with me. I don't think I could have gone on my own," Catherine said gently and hugged him tightly.

He patted the back of her head and nodded. He would always be there for her when she went through difficult times. She pulled away from him and stepped back with her hands covered with his sweater. She looked cute in his clothes. It made him happy. He wanted her to wear his sweaters and shirts all the time.

"See you." Was all he said and turned to get on his Harley.

At the diner he grabbed their table. The one they would sit at sometimes after she had done dancing at night or when they went for breakfast in the morning. It was the one on the corner next to the big windows because she liked to watch all the people walking by. He always liked to see her with that soft smile on her face and pointed out all the men she had seen at the club before. He didn't think she would be smiling much that night.

"Coffee?" The waitress asked with a fake smile.

Happy nodded and asked for two glasses of coke and a sparkling water with lemon for when the other people got there. When they arrived Catherine looked like she had been crying and Jack's face had cleaned up. She pointed over to where Happy was sat and went to the bathroom.

"So," Jack said when he and Aaron slid into the booth, "when are you gonna ask her out?"

"Like, for real," Aaron nodded solemnly.

Happy looked between them with narrow eyes. Him asking Catherine out wasn't the issue of the night. They were here to get Jack back on the behavioural straight and narrow.

"You're basically together anyway. The only thing you're not doing is fucking."

He was about to tell Jack off for talking about his big sister like that after he had just got into a fight when another boy had been just as vulgar about her when Catherine slipped into the booth beside him and sipped her drink. The truth was that Happy thought about fucking her more than he would care to admit. It was especially bad the night before. The look of excitement and glee on her face as she watched the fire she had set swallowing the house was almost more than he could deal with. But when they went back to his house and she was so casual and comfortable. Even the way she sat on the edge of his bed, towelling her hair dry in her damp, slightly see through tank top was sexy to him. Her butt looked great in the shorts she wore to bed and he couldn't help staring at it whenever she wore them.

"I just want you to do well, Jack," Catherine sighed finally and rested her elbows on the table, "you're so smart. I don't want you to waste it."

"It's just… with everything that's happened, you know?"

"I'm sorry I've not been there. But from now on we're gonna meet up every night and I'm gonna watch you do your homework until we get a house. ok?"

"So you're gonna help me do it?" Jack asked.

"You know I can't help you," Catherine said and rolled her eyes as she sat back then crossing her legs; making the skirt of her dress ride up her thighs. Happy couldn't stop his eyes from drifting downwards, "I'm not good at that stuff."

Aaron had caught Happy looking but he wasn't embarrassed, even when the kid folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. Happy just smirked as the waitress came back over to take their food orders. Everyone but Catherine ordered the double beef burgers and cheese. She had cheese fries instead.

"Mr Chibs might help," Catherine continued, "and I heard that Mr Elvis is good with Math."

She was so fucking adorable when she got confused. Catherine had refused to learn Bobby's name for a really long time but when she heard someone call him Bobby Elvis she got excited; she liked to sing Elvis songs, and thought that it was his real name. She wouldn't admit to liking him but she wasn't as nasty to him as she had been in the past. She always said that Kozik was her favourite but Happy knew it was him really.

"Or maybe Tara! She's a doctor so she's, like, really, really smart. Right, Mr Lowman?"

Happy nodded but he wasn't sure if any of the guys would be willing to help them. Chibs, like Happy, was too far gone to distance himself now and it was uncertain if he could even if he had the opportunity. It was no secret the he used Catherine as a substitute for his own daughter and he genuinely cared about her. He had discussed her ties to the mafia in New York with Happy at length and they were both in agreement that she had no idea about it. Catherine was sweet and kind and highly protective of the people that she loved if the way she faced down Clay while Happy was in the hospital was anything to go by. Chibs had also brought up the way she had attacked him when he was fixing Jack up after Jerry had hurt him.

They would be just fine if anyone was to come for them.

(((((((())))))))

Everyone for Happy indulging Catherine's need for setting fires say "aye" – AYE! A nice long chapter for everyone today! I hope you enjoy it!

Did we notice that she referred to Happy as something other than her friend? What do we think to that? And Happy putting pillion pegs on his Harley just for her? Adorable if I do say so myself.

And can we talk about Catherine's psycho-fire scrapbook? Cute and scary!

Anyway. See you in the next one and I'll see you on the flip side.

Love always, Doe xxxx

#duchess #happy lowman fanfiction #happy lowman x oc #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman headcanon #happy lowman #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy headcanon #sons of anarchy oc

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chungledown-bimothy · 5 years ago

Text

Trust Me: Chapter 8

Hello hello hello! Thank you so much for your patience. I hope you enjoy it! <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 7 AO3 Chapter 9

Warnings: A brief mention of the wounds from last chapter’s violence

Author’s Note: The cipher is difficult, but crackable. Consider this a challenge! <3 I linked to it in the fic when it is first received, but here it is as well

Word Count: 2786

Tag List: @ccecode @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @ren-allen @ilovemygaydad @bloodropsblog @funsizedgremlin @raygelkitty @roxiefox23 @thomasthesandersengine @spookyingarbageisland @band-be-boss-blog

One Week Later

Patton's living room, 6 pm

"Logan, is there anything you wanted to tell me?" Patton's voice seemed sweet as usual, but Logan knew his sibling too well to miss the icy undertone.

"Nothing comes to mind. Is there something you'd like to hear?" Logan tried to keep his voice even, but the twitch of Patton's mouth made it clear that he had failed.

"What have you been up to lately? I realized that between putting in more hours at the shop and spending so much time with Virgil, we haven't really talked in the last week or so."

"Nothing remarkable. As you know, it is winter break, so I have been catching up on grading. I truly do not understand why some of these students think that what they turned in is remotely acceptable. Especially for this lab, which is worth 10% of their final grade. Do they not care about their education at all?"

"Now, Logan, I'm sure they're trying their best. You don't know what's going on in their lives outside of class, and you should know better than most how outside circumstances can affect someone's work. Is that it, then? Just grading?"

"For the most part. I read The Murder of Roger Ackroyd again, which was as pleasant as always."

Patton sighed, and the smile dropped off their face. "You, dear brother, are a terrible liar. Why did you borrow my car without asking while I was at work yesterday?"

Logan sputtered. "I- I did not- how did you know?"

"I'm not an idiot, Logan, and I'm more observant than you seem to think. Did you really think I wouldn't notice the fact that the odometer went up?"

"It was less than three miles round trip."

"Logan, my car is 63 years old. Every single mile matters. If you paid enough attention to the things I tell you that aren't about killing people, you would have known that. Virgil drove me to and from work; I would have said yes if you'd asked. So what could you possibly need to do within a 1.5 mile radius that required my car without my knowledge?"

Logan took a deep breath and steeled himself for the impending argument. "I required the use of your car to dispose of a body."

Patton's face flashed with anger and betrayal before returning to a neutral, calm expression. "I'll start with the easy question- why couldn't you use your car? Apparently you did all the rest by yourself, and your car is bigger than mine."

"There is a near-infinitesimal chance that someone might have seen him get into my car. The chance is almost indescribably small, but it does exist."

"How long ago?" Patton's voice was cold and harsh as they got off the couch and stood in front of Logan, the light casting a shadow that made them look like a dark angel.

Logan hesitated; he'd never seen them this angry before. "One week ago. I lack your talent for keeping them alive for long."

"One week… my date with Virgil." They scoffed. "And you say you don't feel emotions. Who, pray tell, did you target in your little temper tantrum?"

"It certainly was not an emotional breakdown. You pursued your desires independent of us when you went to the museum with Virgil. I pursued mine in punishing Jason Dean."

"Jason Dean… JD. Logan. Tell me that you did not kidnap, torture, and murder your own student. Was he even 18 yet? What could a CHILD possibly have done to deserve whatever you did to him? I assume it was some of the things I told you even the scum we punished deserved. Liquid nitrogen? Fire? Hydrochloric acid?" Logan flinched at each accusation, but he stood up, closing the height difference and looking Patton in the eyes.

"He was a murderer. He was responsible for the murders of three of his peers. He deserved punishment, and I deserved freedom with my experiments."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Logan was taken aback by the sudden softness in Patton's voice.

"Of course not, Patton. In your own way, you are brilliant. I have told you this before."

"Don't patronize me. Is there anything else you left out? This is your one chance to get everything out in the open without consequences. I will know if you're lying, and you will regret it if you do."

"I… yes." Logan sighed, knowing full well that they would not hesitate to follow through on their threat. "I sent something to Roman Prince, the journalist who has been covering our kills."

"What, pray tell, did you send?" Logan could tell that their patience was about to snap, but he would not submit. Not this time.

"A note. A cipher. A challenge."

"Oh my god. You're looking for your Poirot, aren't you? I'm not enough? We aren't enough?"

"Patton, you are being absurd. Judging by his writing, this reporter will not be up for the challenge, but perhaps someone else out there can begin to compete with me intellectually, and it would be a welcome change of pace. Regardless, nothing will ever come between us. I fail to see how my search for a worthy intellectual opponent is any different from your burgeoning romance with this Virgil you are always going on about. It is hypocritical in the extreme to seek to satisfy your needs that cannot be fulfilled by our partnership while maintaining that I cannot. I deserve better than that, after all I did for you."

"There's a difference between going out on a few dates and putting us in danger and risking everything trying to prove that you're so much smarter than everyone else. You were reckless and stupid, and I'm disappointed in you. I don't know if we can keep going, if you're going to keep acting like this."

"Surely, you do not mean that. Our work means too much to you. People are only beginning to hear our message. That is truly why I sent that note to the reporter; so he can spread our word even further."

"I told you to stop fucking lying to me!" Patton shouted, raising a hand. Logan flinched, and Patton blanched, realizing what they had been about to do. "You should leave, Logan. I can't even look at you right now. Don't make me act like him." It was clear from their tone that it wasn't a request. Without another word, Logan pushed past them and walked out the door.

Golden Gate Park, 4 pm

Virgil walked onto the crime scene, shocked by the lack of reporters. He was greeted by Captain Sanders, further confusing him.

"Hello, Captain. With all due respect, why are you here? And I'm not complaining by any stretch, but where are all the press vultures?"

"Ah, hello, Virgil! They aren't here because no one knows about the body but the two of us. I found it myself, and called you and Vincent directly. No one but the three of us knows."

"Vincent's here?"

"'Ello, Virgil!" Came an energetic British voice from behind him. Virgil couldn't help but smile.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see you, but what are you doing here?" Virgil let himself be pulled into a hug from the shorter man.

"I have crime scene tech training, and Captain Sanders needed someone he'd be sure wouldn't call the press. And given my history with journalism, well, I know that I talk a lot, but never to the press."

"Remind me to ask for that story later. How long has the body been here?"

"Judging by insect activity, I'd wager about twenty-four hours, but I'll send photos and samples to our entomologist for confirmation once we're done here. Did you know that the first documented case of forensic entomology was in 13th century China, documented in Sun Tzu's book about his work, entitled The Washing Away of Wrongs? He recounted finding a murder victim by noticing the flies that remained on the murder weapon, despite it being cleaned of all blood."

"That is super fascinating, Vincent, but we've got a 2019 crime right here to solve. Do we know anything about the victim?" Virgil asked, putting on gloves.

"The only thing on him was a Mission High School ID- name's Jason Dean, he's a senior." Vincent handed him the ID.

"A kid? That's a huge change in victimology. Have you checked his mouth?"

"Not yet. Just got here a couple minutes before you did. Care to do the honors?"

Virgil sighed. "Not sure how much of an honor it is, but sure." Vincent led him to the body, and he started dictating notes.

"Victim is Jason Dean, per his Mission High School student ID. Whereas previous victims had knife wounds, the victim appears to have extremely severe frostbite, acid burns, and heat burns. No obvious cause of death, although shock seems to be a reasonable option. Opening his mouth now, and there is a paper inside. Same stamp as previous victims- this certainly is our killer. The note says 'killer'. Is the victim a substitute for himself? The profile suggests someone in their late twenties or early thirties. Perhaps something about Jason reminds the killer of himself as a teen. He shows no sign of stopping soon, though. Why kill a proxy now? Revisit profile after autopsy and gathering more information about Jason."

"Interesting analysis, Virgil." Virgil jumped, not having heard the captain walk up behind him. Captain Sanders laughed. "Easy there, it's just me. It looks like you've got this all under control, so I'm going to go back to the station. This change in MO and victimology is concerning, though- get me a written revised profile by the end of the day."

"Yes, sir." Virgil went back to discussing the details of the injuries with Vincent, and Sanders left the scene.

Presidio Heights, 6 pm

With a sigh, Roman forced a key into the ancient lock on his slot in the mailbox unit. He rifled through them as he trudged up the flight of stairs to his apartment, flipping past coupons, ads, and bills, frustrated at how mundane his life had become. He hadn't realized just how monotonous his routine was until he got the opportunity to write those pieces on the Park Puzzler; now life in between them just felt gray. He knew that having another chance to write about the killer meant someone else would have to die, so he didn't hope for that, but the thrill of a real story left him hungry for more adventure. Which is why his heart stopped when he found an envelope with no address or postage, just his name.

He ran up the rest of the stairs and unlocked his door as quickly as possible, throwing the rest of the mail on his coffee table. The pile let out an irritated meow.

"I'm so sorry, Meeko, my love! But this looks to be quite the mysterious delivery. Can you smell the adventure?" Roman freed his cat from the pile of papers and scratched under his chin. Meeko let out a small chirp, which Roman understood as forgiveness.

Turning back to the envelope, he was truly at a loss for words. The envelope was made out of cardstock, and the only writing on it was his name in big, black letters. He carefully took a picture of it before turning it over and opening it. Inside was a note. Once again, he took a picture of it before calling his boss.

"What is it, Prince? You're off the clock."

"I just got a note that claims to have been sent by the Park Puzzler."

"The serial killer?"

"Yes, sir. The note looks like it's in some kind of code, and it says I should publish it. What should I do?"

"The journalist in me says yes- it's a hell of a story. But this is a very public active case, and I don't want you charged with obstruction of justice. Take pictures of it, and then take it to the cops."

"I already took pictures- consider me on the way to the station now." Roman threw his jacket back on and left for the station.

Richmond Station, 20 Minutes Later

"Detective Mason, it's Roman Prince here to see you." Virgil looked up from his profile write-up to see a beat cop whose name he couldn't remember nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Roman Prince… oh. The journalist. Did he say what he wants?"

"Wouldn't give me details- he just said that it has to do with that serial killer case you're working."

Virgil fought to not roll his eyes. "Okay, send him over here."

"Will do." The officer all but ran away, quickly returning with Roman in tow.

"Hello Prince. Rumor has it you have something for me." Virgil said, feigning boredom.

"Not quite. I have something that was delivered to me that might be of interest to you." Virgil's interest was piqued.

"If it's half as important as you seem to think it is, it is evidence, and therefore will be mine shortly."

"Hang on, Surly Temple. Before I show you anything, I need you to promise me exclusive rights to this. It was given to me, out of all the journalists in the city, by the Park Puzzler, after all."

"Don't call him that. Public attention is his goal, and giving him a name like that only validates him. But fine. If this is something important, you will be given SFPD's permission to write about it once we've decided the best course to do so." Maybe I can make this work in our favor. He's so desperate to get a big story, I'm sure we can use him to say what we want, not what the killer does, Virgil mused.

"Fantastic! Here it is. It was in my mailbox when I checked the mail about half an hour ago." Roman handed him the envelope.

"When was the last time you checked your mail?" Virgil asked.

"Yesterday at around 6 o'clock. I check it at about the same time every day."

"Good. Patterns are good," Virgil muttered to himself. He put gloves on before taking the envelope from him. He pulled the piece of paper out of the envelope and read it. "Come with me, Roman. We need to talk to my captain right now." He stood up and started walking; Roman hurried after him.

When they got to the captain's office, Virgil didn't even knock.

"Captain, you need to see this. This journalist says this was left in his mailbox at some point in the last 24 hours." Virgil handed him the note.

Sanders went pale. "What is this?"

"I'm confident it's a cypher of some sort. He's getting desperate, Captain. He hasn't been getting the attention he wants, so he's reaching out to the media directly."

"So why code it?" Roman interjected. "If he wants to use me to send a message, why make it one people won't understand?"

"That's a really good question. What's your name, and who are you writing for?" Sanders asked.

"Roman Prince with SFGate."

"Ah, Humphrey's crew. Well, Virgil? Why is it coded?"

"He doesn't just want attention. He's telling us that he's smarter than we are- publishing this code is a challenge for someone to decode it. Not unlike the Zodiac killer."

"So what do you suggest we do about it? I'm not inclined to do what he wants us to."

"If we don't give him some attention, he will escalate, and with the combination of his recent change of MO and victimology and reaching out to Roman directly, I don't want to know what his next escalation would be if we just ignore it."

"So you're going to let me publish it?" Virgil fought to not roll his eyes at Roman's excitement.

"Not yet. Give me 24 hours to crack it. I already have a couple of ideas. If we can prove that I'm smarter than he is, he will reach out to me, and we can use that connection to catch him. He's almost as smart as he is arrogant, and that's the rope he's going to hang himself on." Virgil made eye contact with the Captain, almost pleading.

"Ooh, I like that phrase. I'm totally going to use that." Roman broke the tense silence that had fallen.

"Okay, Virgil. Roman, meet us both here at 7 pm tomorrow. We'll regroup from there. Virgil, godspeed." He handed Virgil the note.

"Thank you sir. Roman, you can see yourself out, right? I have to get to work."

The two young men left the office, heads swimming with ideas and plans.

#ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #human au #serial killer au #my writing #trust me

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justkending · 6 years ago

Text

Knock, Knock. Part 20.

Chapter Summary: It’s time to meet the parents.

Pairing: (single) Jensen x Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2211

A/N: Yes, this one is kinda short, but it will get more interesting next chapter! I just need you to get a feel for the family dynamic. Enjoy!

Part 20:

“You guys are going to be staying in Y/N’s old room.” Your mom said, opening your door and gesturing inside.

“Mom, there’s only one bed.” You said, looking in your old room.

“And?” she said crossing her arms in the doorway.

“And…” you said raising an eyebrow and turning your eyes toward Jensen without moving your head.

“So.”

“You know what? I’ll take the futon in the office.” You turned to Jensen, “You can have my room-“

“I sold the futon.” Your mom said cutting you off.

“What? Why?” you turned back to her.

“It was tacky, and was taking up space.” She shrugged.

“Mom!”

“Don’t ‘mom’ me missy. This is the only bed we have available. Your sisters twin bed is too small for two people, so you can’t sleep with her, and Charlie and them are staying over tonight in his old room because their heater isn’t working. You guys can share a bed, it’s not that big of a deal.” she said turning to walk away before you could fight her on it. “I’m going to get some coffee started.” Once she was down the hall and in the living room she shouted again. “Don’t forget to go get your dad in the shop once your unpacked!”

You let out a loud and long sigh in response. You turned back to your room looking around. It hadn’t changed a bit. You had your built in vanity on the same wall of your bed. It was the first one you made with your dad. Then a table that you had built as well on the wall along side your door, that held your old record player, and some records you left behind. There were posters of world maps, and bands like: The Beatles, Eagles and Rolling stones hug up. Your bed was neatly made, and still had an old quilt that your grandma made when you were younger on top of your comforter.

As you were reminiscing over all your old things, Jensen saw the worry in your eyes.

“Hey, I can sleep on the floor or couch if you want. It’s not that big of a deal.” He said looking down at you.

“What?” you said snapping out of your thoughts. “What? Oh, no. No. I’ll sleep on the couch. I wouldn’t hear the end of it from my mom is she saw you on the couch.”

“It’s fine really-“

“Jay.” You cut him off. “Don’t argue with me, cause we both know who’s going to win the fight.” You smirked. “Besides the couch is pretty comfortable.”

He was kinda hoping that you would just give in and sleep in the bed with him, but he also still didn’t know if you and Cole had actually broken up. He had a theory that you guys had, but you hadn’t told him what went down the other night.

“Ok, as much as I want to fight you on it, I guess I’ll take the bed.” He said going in and putting his bag on the bed.

“Good.” You said with a victory smile, and went to put your bags on the ground at the end of the bed. You sat down on the corner of the bed, and Jensen followed. “I have not been in this room for years it feels like.”

“Really? When’s the last time you came up here?”

“Probably since last Christmas.” You said thinking back.

“Really?”

“Yeah. They tend to come visit me in Austin. They like the city, and love to travel down there so I don’t fight them on it.” You were looking at the table that held your records and jumped up noticing something. “Oh. My. God.” You ran over picking up a yellow vinyl cover with a bow and a note on it.

“What is that?” he said getting up and following you to look over your shoulder.

“It’s the Flash Gordon Album.” You said running a hand down it. You pulled the note off of the cover.

Monkey,

I thought I would get you one early Christmas present so we could listen to it sooner rather than later.

Love,

-Dad

“Awe. Thanks dad.” You said softly.

“Flash Gordon, huh?” Jensen said snapping you out of it.

“Hmm Mmm. It’s kinda an inside joke with my dad. The movie is awful, but we love it anyway. Plus, the whole album is by Queen.” You smiled. “Speaking of my dad we should go check on him.”

Jensen nodded, and you both got situated before heading out to the shop.

He followed close behind as you opened the door, and saw your dad sawing away at something with the giant power saw that was extremely loud.

“Dad!” you yelled knowing he probably wouldn’t hear you. “Dad!”

Still nothing.

Your big chocolate lab came running over, and you crouched to rub her head.

“Belle! Oh my goodness! Look at you girl!” you said giving her a big hug around the neck. “Well, you’ve gotten older haven’t you? Still as gorgeous as ever though.” You said tapping her nose before standing. You looked at Jensen who was grinning at you. “That’s Belle. She’s a sweetheart and also thinks she owns this shop.” You smiled.

He crouched and started rubbing on her which caused her to roll on her back so that he could pet her belly better.

“I’m taking it that she likes me?” he asked smiling up at you.

“Actually yeah! She’s never that relaxed with people she first meets. She’s usually on guard all the time.” You said kinda shocked.

“Monkey? Is that you?” your father asked as he turned off the saw.

“Hey Dad.” You smiled, walking over to him.

“Well come here sweetheart, and give your old man a hug.” He said taking off his headphones and opening his arms.

You rushed over and gave him a long and strong embrace even though he was covered in sawdust.

“I miss you honey!” he said in your ear as he rested his cheek on your head.

“Miss you too dad.” You pulled away with a big grin. “What are you working on now?”

“Oh, the usual. Neighbor down the road wanted some corn hole boards for a Christmas gift, and I’m just now getting ‘em started.” He said back looking at his creation. “Hey, your mom said you were bringing home a boyfriend. Is that right?”

“Um actually-“

Before you could finish your dad looked over you and saw Jensen standing up from where he had been petting Belle.

“Oh. My. God.” He said pushing past you.

“Dad, hey!” you said stumbling out of the way.

“Jensen Ackles.” He said walking up and putting his hands out in shock. “Jensen Ackles is in my shop.” He said going star struck. He turned to you for a split second. “Dean Winchester is in my shop.” he turned back to Jensen.

“Dad, please try to act normal.” You mumbled walking over to him.

“Hello Mr. Y/L/N. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He said shaking you father’s hand.

“Well, the pleasure is all mine son!” you dad said shaking his hand back.

“Dad-“ you tried cutting in.

“Y/N didn’t tell me she was bringing you!”

“Well, mom was supposed to tell you, but she failed to mention-“

“I’m a big fan of your show Jensen. Lots of good music, stories, mysteries, and OH the car!” he said getting more excited with each thing.

Jensen laughed at the excitement your father was eliciting.

“I’m glad you like it sir. It’s made a big impact on my life, and I wouldn’t change it for a second.” He said looking to you. He wasn’t just talking about the show.

“Oh, I’m sure!” he said finally letting go of Jensen’s hand. “So you’re the one dating my daughter.” He said switching to dad-mode. “I got to say, if anyone is going to be with her, I’m glad it’s Dean Winchester.”

“Dad!” you shouted swatting his arm.

“What?” he said confused at the hit.

“We aren’t dating. Jensen and I just live together.” You said crossing your arms and standing by Jensen’s side.

“Living together? Don’t you think you missed a step?” he said

“Dad we talked about this-“

“If I may,” Jensen said looking at you before looking back at your dad. “Your daughter needed a place to stay when her apartment complex went under, and I just happened to have some spare rooms in my house. I asked her if she wanted to borrow one when Jared and Gen introduced us. We’ve become really great friends since.” he said smiling down at you, and throwing an arm over your shoulder. You returned the smile.

“Oh, I see.” Your dad said nodding his head and taking off his work gloves. “So nothing… romantic-“

“Dad!”

“Sorry, just checking! Your mom said boyfriend so…”

“Cole couldn’t come.” You said in a sadder tone. You quickly recovered. “I had an extra ticket, and Jensen was going to be by himself for Christmas so I invited him instead.”

Jensen looked down at you wanting to know the answer behind why Cole couldn’t come. You still had a talk that you needed to finish with him, and he was hoping to hear it soon.

“Well, I’m not complaining!” he said patting Jensen’s shoulder. “While you guys are out here; want to help me cut this last board? It’s too big for one person.”

“Sure.” You said going to the work bench to grab gloves and safety glasses.

“I would love to help sir.” Jensen said following by your dad’s side.

“Please. Call me Wayne.” Your father said patting his shoulder again.

“Wayne.” Jensen repeated. “Got it.”

“Are you guys going to help me or what?” you said shoving the other set of glasses and gloves toward Jensen.

“Sorry, boss.” Jensen said with a sassy smirk.

“She is pretty bossy, isn’t she?” your dad whispered.

“I heard that!” you shouted going to grab a side of the board. “Dad you better hurry too. Mom was the one who sent us out here.”

“Oh shoot. Then we don’t have time to mess around.” Your dad said picking up the pace.

You and Jensen laughed as you helped your dad finish the job.

“Ok, I need someone to explain the nickname Monkey for me?” Jensen said as he walked into the house behind you.

“Oh, that’s-“ you started, but were cut off by your dad.

“She use to use people as human jungle gyms. Was always climbing on everything she could. Me included.” He said going to grab a cup of coffee. “Hey, honey. Did you get that paper done?” he said giving your mom a kiss on the cheek as he sat by her at the kitchen table.

She nodded before continued the story of your nickname.

“Y/N here, was our wild child.” Your mom said giving you a pointed look.

“Still is.” You dad mumbled taking a sip.

“She use to run outside for hours on end just climbing on trees, rocks, in the creeks, you name it. She would invite the neighborhood friends over in the morning, and we wouldn’t see them till supper cause they were running around and constantly finding new places to explore.” She laughed.

You hopped up on the counter taking a seat, and grabbed your coffee as Jensen came and stood by you and looked toward your parents at the table.

“She’s always been an adventurous one. Constantly trying to find new places to discover.” Your dad said winking at you.

“Very true.” You said smiling as you drank your coffee.

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” Jensen said looking at you with a loving look, and leaning on the counter by you, slightly brushing his shoulder on your arm.

You blushed just at his stare, and looked away quickly not wanting it to show.

“So dad!” you yelled. “Why don’t you tell Jensen what you’re building? How you got started on it and all?”

“Oh yeah!” your dad exclaimed.

You knew that if you got him started on that kick it could go on for a while. You just wanted to direct the conversation away from you.

“While you two talk about that, I’m going to go wash the airplane musk, and saw dust off me.” You said hopping down from the counter.

“Yeah, you got some in your hair.” Jensen said ruffling your head as you walked by.

“Hey!” you laughed as you pushed his hand away. “Now, I don’t feel as bad leaving you here with these two.” You motioned to your parents.

“We aren’t that bad!” your mom defended.

“Sure.” You said just loud enough for them to hear you. Your mom swatted your back as you ran past her. “I’ll be back in 20 minutes’ top.” You turned to Jensen just as you were going through the doorway. “Thank you can handle it?” you said with a smirk.

“Get out of here stinker!” he waved you off. “Besides you smell awful.” He teased.

“I do not! You were on the same plane as me, who’s to say it’s not you you’re smelling?” you shouted as you walked away.

You just heard them laughing at you as you walked into the bathroom and started getting undressed for the shower.

Part 21

Tags:

@shamelesslydean @sleepless-sin @unabashedsoul97 @sandlee44 @gripmetight-raisemefromperdition @cabbagewithissues @supersleepygoat @anotherwaywardsister @spnwoman @ravengirl94 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ezilyamuzed @thosekidswhohuntmonsters@purpleskiesandcherrypies @anise-d-castle6 @adoptdontshoppets @casper57x @tailsoflightning @spookycowz @eve05glee@snffbeebee @angelessquirrel @mirandaaustin93 @natura1phenomenon @tftumblin @gh0stgurl @screechingartisancashbailiff @kersumgen

#supernatural #Jensen Ackles #jensen x reader #jensen ackles series #reader insert #knock knock #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x y/n #Supernarural #supernatural series #SUPERNATURAL AU #spn reader insert #SPN AU #SPN series #SPN #spn au series

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paige-in-a-story · 6 years ago

Text

Shallow.

**Gif is not mine**

Title: Shallow

Pairing: Sam x reader

Warnings: lots of flashbacks, and slight angst and fluff

Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome

A/N: This fic is dedicated to @kayteonline for the @spnfanficpond ‘s Galentine’s day challenge! I hope you love this fic, as much as I did writing it for you! Happy Galentine’s day ladies!

A/N: This is also heavily inspired from the song, ‘Shallow’ by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper from ‘A Star is Born’.

Song lyrics are in bold italics

Tell me something boy

Aren’t you tried of filling that void?

or do you need more?

Ain’t hard keepin’ up being so hardcore?

Many, many moons ago, you fell in love for the first time. You never felt that way about anyone before. You never loved anyone like that since.

His name was Sam Winchester.

You were both seventeen at the time. Along with his older brother, Dean, and Dad, John Winchester moved into town not too long ago.

You had 12th grade English together; Mr. Harlan introduced Sam to the class, and there was an empty desk right beside your own.

It was meant to be, you would muse to yourself.

You’ll never forget as class resumed itself and you dove back into the book you were reading.

“Psst.”

You cut your eyes up at Mr. Harlan who was in the middle of a heated coffee sermon.

You turned around and met Sam’s eyes, who was wondering if he could borrow a pencil. You had no problem with him borrowing a pencil. He could have kept it for all you cared.

You also offered him your notes, and told him you would bring up to speed on the semester.

Sam was very grateful for that, and doubled down to you that you didn’t have to go through all that trouble.

You insisted, saying that it was no trouble at all.

And the rest was history.

If only there was a better ending to your story.

Sam was in town for about two months, and things really escalated between the two of you.

It was coming around three months, and it was about that time. That time when Dean, John, and Sam moved onto the next town, the next case.

A part of Sam didn’t want to leave you, but he knew he was going to have to go. He knew you weren’t going to take it very well. Sam loved you too, he loved you very much in fact. But this was one of the prices they paid doing what they do.

You went blissfully unaware of what the Winchesters really did. As far as you knew, Sam’s Dad was a mechanic, and Dean shared a few tricks of the trade.

All Sam was going to tell you was, his Dad got a better job somewhere far from here. It’ll come to him when the times comes.

That time never comes.

John woke up the boys up in the middle of the night, and they booked.

You never got a goodbye.

You got nothing.

You went to school with the hope he would come again.

But he never did.

Eventually, that hope disappeared, just like Sam did.

You never forgot Sam, and as a comfort, you liked to think that Sam never forgot you.

Twelve years later

You’re almost the same as you were twelve years earlier. There are some changes. You’re thirteen years older. You no longer live with your parents.

Well both of your parents are dead.

You’re were a nurse practitioner, and you work at Guardian General Hospital, in the emergency room.

What was supposed to be any other night shift, was much more than that. When a man comes in your hospital doors. He was supporting someone who was taller than him, who was holding onto their side.

“My brother needs a doctor!?”

When you looked up from the desk where you sat at you could not believe your eyes.

It was Sam Winchester. Like you, he was twelve years older, and appeared to be suffering stab wounds.

You hopped up and lead them to a station, and told him to keep applying pressure. You reassured them you’d get them fixed up in no time.

“You need any help with that, hon?” One of the older nurses who was pulling the graveyard shift with you.

“Nope I’ve got this one. Thank you though.” You smiled, as you rushed around the ER like a chicken without a head.

You closed off the curtains and asked how this happened.

Both of them gave completely different explanations.

“Well don’t worry cause you’re in good hands now. You’re going to be fine, Sam.” You said, as you got started.

“How did you know his name was Sam?” Dean asked, as he squinted his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Just like how I know your name is Dean. You’re Sam and Dean Winchester. Your Dad’s name was John. It was 12 years ago this fall that y’all drifted through town and...Sam and I had English together.” You sighed, remembering much more than that.

“With Mr. Harlan, right?” Sam said, in between his small and quiet winces of pain.

“That’s right.” You nodded.

“I don’t even remember that. Not to be rude or anything but what was your name?” Dean wondered.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N.” You admitted.

Dean thought about your name and it wasn’t ringing any bells. Sam thought about it and all of his memories with you came flooding back at once.

“Y/N....” Sam sighed, looking up at you with those eyes he looked at you the first time you talked.

“I’m going to warn you this is going to sting a bit.” You bit the bottom of your lip and did what you had to do, and his loud groan of pain broke your heart.

Dean excused himself, saying he was going to try and get some coffee, and would be back soon.

You finished cleaning Sam up, stitched him up, and ensured he was comfortable.

After you were done, you removed your gloves, and washed your hands and took a seat, and you let out a long sigh.

You couldn’t believe after all these years, Sam Winchester was laying before you.

“I’m sorry Y/N...I left without saying goodbye and I never came back to visit or anything...” Sam apologized, guilt written all over his face.

“No phone call, no letter, no nothing. But it’s okay. I forgave you a long time ago.” You shrugged, honestly just happy to see him.

“I can explain everything, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out.” Sam bit the inside of your lip.

You didn’t quite understand what he meant by that, but you were all ears.

“So you’re trying to tell me that monsters are real and you’ve saved the world numerous times from total destruction...?” You couldn’t believe it. And all this time you were still convinced that they were a family of mechanics. There was much more to the Family Business than you knew about.

“You got it right.” Dean replied, as he sipped his hot coffee.

“I appreciate you telling me. I’m sure it won’t help me sleep at night, but I barely sleep as it is.” You shrugged.

“How are your parents, Y/N?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“In a much better place now. If Heaven even exists.” Which told Sam and Dean everything, without you even having to say it.

“It does.” Sam reassured you.

You talked for a bit longer, but you knew that you were going to have to get back to work sooner or later.

“We don’t want to hold you up, but I’m glad y’all got to catch up.” Dean smiled, and thanking you again for fixing Sam up.

“It’s nothing, really.” You insisted, just like how you always did.

“I’ll go bring the car around if that’s alright..?”

“Go right ahead. I’ll get him to ya in one piece.” Dean offered you a smile, appreciating it very much.

When you went to help Sam up, he pulled you into him and as you were going to ask him what he was doing,

He cut you off with a kiss.

When you pulled away, you shook your head, asking what was that for.

“I don’t know I just felt like it.” Sam shrugged as a big smile crept on his face.

You only smirked down at him, and then dove in for another kiss.

That’s what you said to Sam when you kissed him for the first time. And just as you pulled away, Sam breathed out and asked what was all that about.

“I don’t know I just felt like it.”

You wheeled Sam out on a wheelchair, and Dean took it over from there. Sam and you already exchanged numbers, and you asked how long were you going to be in town.

In all honestly, Dean and Sam were probably booking it sometime tomorrow. Before Dean could say anything, Sam interjects, and tells you in the next couple of days.

You told him to have a better night, and to let you know if you need anything.

You all said goodbye, and you made your way back inside the hospital.

Dean and Sam rode in silence, until Dean broke it with,

“Couple of days huh?”

“Dean...Y/N was a special girl to me.” Sam admitted, shifting his glance out the window. Dean understood where his brother was coming from.

“If you need a couple of days, I get it.” Dean nodded.

Sam and Dean got settled into their motel room, and passed out for the night.

When Sam woke up, he woke up to text from you that read:

“Hope you got some rest. You looked like you needed it.”

Sam smiled down at his phone, and responded and then realized you weren’t going to reply instantly because you were probably asleep after working the night shift.

But, he was wrong.

“Happy to hear it.”

Sam couldn’t resist shaking his head, and writing:

“Shouldn’t you be getting to bed?

“Now I can sleep. I’ll text you when I wake up.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

“Thanks Sam.”

A couple of hours later

“Good morning”

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when you wrote him.

Sam chuckled down at his phone and wrote this,

“Good afternoon, Y/N.”

“What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

Without missing a beat, Sam replied:

“I don’t know what are you doing for dinner?”

Then you wrote:

“How about I bring you and Dean a home cook meal?”

Sam threw it out there to Dean, and Dean wasn’t going to turn down a home cook meal.

“You don’t have to do that, but we appreciate it.”

Sam also sent along with that the motel and their door number.

You told him that you would be there around six.

Right around six, there came a knock on their motel door.

“Hey Y/N, come on in.” Dean got the door, as Sam was fixing himself up in the bathroom.

“Hey Dean! How are you? How is Sam feeling?” You asked as you held on the tubs of different containers filled with warm food.

“I hope you didn’t go crazy.” Dean said, as he helped you unload it on the table.

“By crazy, I baked some chicken, mac and cheese, and green beans, and I made a pie.” You smiled.

“You made a pie?”

“I couldn’t remember which one of you liked pie, but I made it anyway. It’s a blueberry pie.” You told him, and Dean hugged you from the side, and that’s when Sam came out of the bathroom.

“Sam, I like her.” Dean said, pointing at you.

Sam and you both laughed, and you hugged Sam from the side, and asked how he felt.

“I’m feeling alright.” Sam said, biting down on his bottom lip, as he slid his hands into his pockets.

“Remind me before I leave, I’ll change out your bandages.” You said, as you walked back over to the table to fix them both plates.

Sam and Dean really enjoyed the food you fixed them, and Dean ate the pie straight from the plate.

You were just glad you didn’t have to eat alone, and you got the chance to cook.

Dean pretended that his phone ringing. He decided to step outside which gave you and Sam the room.

“You want me to switch out your bandages?” You wondered, as Dean slammed the door shut behind him.

Sam nodded his head, and sat up, and tore off his shirt. Sam laid on his side, so you could work on the side where you patched him up.

It seemed to healing well, you thought to yourself as you worked in a peaceful silence.

“How’s it uh looking?”

“It looks alright. Who did this to you?” You inquired, as you finished up. “Doesn’t matter.” Sam said, letting out a small sigh. It did matter to you at the very least, but you weren’t going to push the issue.

“Can I tell you something, Sam?” As he stood up and threw his shirt back on, carefully.

“Go for it.”

“I can’t stop wondering why after all this time...you and I...” You nervously looked down at your hands as you said this.

“I like to think everything happens for a reason.” Sam chuckled, which allowed you to smile a little.

“You were my first...everything, Sam. And just when I think I fall in love, none of it was ever the same in comparison when I was with you.” You laughed, hoping you didn’t sound stupid.

“I’ll be honest with you, a couple of girls have come along my way. But none of them were you. And like I told you about Dean and I’s lifestyle. It isn’t easy.”

“No matter what you tell me, Sam. Nothing is going to scare me away from you because a part of me always loved you. Everyone thought I was crazy but look where we are.” You flashed a brow.

“What are you trying to say?” Sam squinted his eyes.

“All I’m saying is why don’t we give this another try. You and Dean can go home, and you and I can talk and see each other when we can. We won’t move it too fast, but I don’t know, Sammy. The both of us are going to want this.” You said, doing everything in your might from crying.

“If there is one thing I know is, that I want this.” Sam said, taking your hand. You finally met his eyes, and you instantly melted.

And, that was you all you needed to hear. You cupped his cheek, and you knelt in front of him on his bed and kissed him. Sam supported your back and held you against him, while you kissed. You stopped yourself before things got out of hand, but you weren’t going to deny that you enjoyed it.

I’m off the deep end

Watch as I dive in

I’ll never meet the ground

Crash through the surface

Where they can’t hurt us

Were far from the shallow now

The End..?

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newdougg · 6 years ago

Text

Prague

A/N: So this is my first fic. Go easy on me. I take the train a lot from the city to my hometown and this is kinda inspired by an experience I had sitting in the worst seat ever. I consider it a one shot, but it’s pretty long... I just wanted to get it all done in one go. It’s pretty self indulgent I guess but I wanted to get it out of my head. Maybe if people like this I can do more parts? Also I’ve never been out of America so some cultural stuff might be wrong.

Pairing: BuckyxFemale reader

Summary: Your solo Europe trip becomes way more interesting after a train ride with a certain super soldier. 18+, NSFW at the end. The gif was made by capntony! It’s not mine!

Great, you thought, scanning the cramped train car, no seats left. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The last four seats at the end of the car were free. The last two faced the others and didn’t have very much leg room between them. This made sitting in those seats awkward when another passenger chose one of those seats, and that is exactly why you avoided those sections of the train.

Sighing, you made your way down the aisle to the dreaded seat. You threw your heavy bag into the overhead compartment and sat in the window seat. You felt the train begin to pull out of the station, and the next leg of your trip had officially begun.

A little under a year ago, your then boyfriend and you had made plans to backpack through Europe. As unoriginal as it was, it was something that was on both your bucket lists. The two of you worked overtime, and you had even started doing odd jobs around your neighborhood to pay for the trip. You spent so much time planning out the best route, what sites you both wanted to see, where to stay etc. You bought two tickets to Berlin, where you would spend a few days before moving on to the next city in the next country until you ended up in Santorini, Greece. The one place you had dreamed of visiting, and now it was finally happening.

But then, about a month and a half before the two of you were supposed to leave, he broke it off after 3 years of dating. You were blindsided. Especially when he told you he didn’t want to be committed to anyone while traveling through Europe as he would feel like he was ‘missing out’. So you did the only logical thing; you canceled his ticket. You were done with being the doormat. If he thought you were going to plan out a trip for him just to fuck whoever he wanted, well, he was sorely mistaken. You also decided to keep your ticket and go yourself. The few friends you had were worried about you traveling alone, and to be honest you were too, but… you needed this. You needed some great adventure to take away the pain, but mostly to prove you could do this without him.

As you watched the countryside fly by your window, you felt your eyelids begin to droop. The next stop for you was Prague, and that was hours away. You had time to sleep. And with any luck, no new passengers would choose to sit in the seats surrounding you, leaving your personal space be. You tucked your small black purse between you and the arm of your chair, folded your hoodie into a pillow, put in your earbuds and let sleep come.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun was significantly higher in the sky when you woke up. You could’ve stayed asleep, but someone sitting in the chair across from you had unfortunately brought you back to reality. You wanted to groan out loud to let whoever had invaded your personal bubble know you were not happy about it, but you didn’t want to make this seating arrangement any more awkward. Over the music playing in your ears, you heard the personal space invader say something to you, but you didn’t catch what it was. Pulling the headphones from your ears, you said, “Sorry, what?”

And that’s when you really looked at him.

A worn baseball cap held back his shoulder-length brown hair. Stubble lined his jaw; his lips were just perfectly pouted. The corners of his striking blue eyes crinkled as he half smiled at you, causing you to almost melt into the seat. The black long sleeved shirt looked as though it could barely contain his arms. Just looking at him made you blush. And now you had to sit across him for the rest of the trip, trying your best to look unaffected.

“Sorry,” he started, and Jesus, even his voice was sexy, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s fine,” you answer quickly, popping your earbuds back in. You fixed your gaze on the window and shrunk as far back into the seat as you could, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You had been with your ex for so long you had almost forgotten how to act around other men, especially when they were this hot. How long had he been there before you woke up? Had you been snoring? Or worse, drooling? You discreetly checked your hoodie, and thankfully there were no drool spots. His knees were so close to yours. You strained to keep them as close to the side of the train as possible, fearing the slightest contact with his body would cause you to do something embarrassing. Several different scenarios of how you could humiliate yourself in front of him ran through your mind, and you could feel your anxiety rise with every thought.

This was going to be the longest train ride ever.

You switch from music to a podcast, one that’s very detail oriented in order to keep your mind occupied. There was no way you could spend the rest of this trip ogling a stranger. You studied all the scenery flying by your window, counting the buildings as they pass, watching other passengers exit or board the train at their stops. It was mind-numbing, which was what you definitely needed right now. Slowly, you felt the anxiety fade away.

That is until you saw a hand waving out of the corner of your eye.

Ok, just be cool, it’s really not a big deal, You tried to reassure yourself, but one look at him and you felt almost lightheaded. Again, you removed your earbuds and sat up a little straighter.

“Do you have a phone charger I could borrow?” He asked, “I guess I forgot mine.”

“Yeah, sure,” you pulled your charger out of your purse and handed it to him. You noticed the glove on his left hand, which struck you as a little odd, especially since his right hand was bare. It occurred to you that he looked a little familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. But then you made the mistake of looking right in his steely blue eyes, and you couldn’t form a thought to save your life.

“Thanks,” he said, that half smile nearly causing your heart to skip a beat. Just as you were about to put your earbuds back in, he spoke again, “Where’re you from?”

You blinked a few times, surprised that he was starting a conversation. You told him, and asked, “What about you?”

“Brooklyn,” he answered, “So are you traveling for business or pleasure?”

Oh, he should not be allowed to say that word, you thought, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering. “I’m just sightseeing, doing the cliché backpacking through Europe thing.”

“By yourself?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“By myself.”

“Is that safe?”

“I can take care of myself,” you answered, starting to feel a little defensive. You had pepper spray in your purse. You could handle yourself.

“I’m sure you can kid, didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, putting his hands up. You weren’t sure how you felt about being called ‘kid’, but if anyone could get away with it, it was him.

“You’re traveling by yourself,” you say, suddenly feeling a little emboldened, “Is that safe?”

He chuckled, “Touché,” he extended his right hand, “Bucky.”

“(Y/N),” you said, shaking his hand. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met, and that half smile reappeared on his face. Maybe sitting in this section wasn’t so bad after all. “What brings you to Europe?”

“Work,” Bucky said, with no explanation. You thought that was a little strange. But before you could ask him what his work was, he was already changing the subject, “So where’ve you been so far? The Eiffel Tower? Big Ben?”

“Uh, no actually, I didn’t plan on going to either of those places,” you explained, “I was just in Berlin for a few days, and I’m on my way to Prague next.”

“Why Prague?”

Actually, Prague had been your ex’s choice. But after doing some research you decided to go anyway. It stung a bit to be reminded of that. “Well, I want to see the Astronomical Clock, walk around Mala Strana, and head out to see the Sedlec Ossuary-”

“Really?” He looked surprised, “Isn’t that the bone chapel?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’d rather go there than the Eiffel Tower?”

“Yes,” you said, “It’s just... interesting to me.”

“I thought you said this was gonna be a cliché trip,” If Bucky smiled at you like that one more time, you might just die right there.

“Yeah, I guess it’s not,” You were just about to ask him what exactly his job was, but an announcement came over the speaker, saying that the train would be arriving in Prague in the next few minutes. After being on your own for a couple days, it had been really nice to have a conversation with someone, even if that person’s very existence made you into a hot mess of a human. You were bummed you’d be parting ways so soon.

“You hungry?” Bucky asked, “I’m actually getting off here too.”

“Uh, yeah, a little,” you had breakfast early that morning, which was several hours ago. But you were more excited about the chance to spend more time with Bucky.

“I know a good place not far from the train station. Wanna come with?”

Part of you wanted to say no. A very big part. It had been two years since you’d been on a date with anyone other than your ex. You were scared of making a fool out of yourself. But this whole trip was about breaking out of your comfort zone. And despite your anxiety creeping back, you surprised yourself by accepting his invite. “Sure.”

“Great,” Bucky said, standing up. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and reached up into the overhead compartment. As he did, his shirt lifted a little, exposing a small bit of his stomach and the waistband of his boxers. Again, your heart stopped. “This your bag?” he held your heavy backpack in his gloved hand. You just nodded. Bucky threw your bag onto his back. You tried to protest, but he just ignored you. He held out his arm, letting you walk out in front of him. As you exited the train, you felt his hand on the small of your back, guiding you.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you thought, What have I gotten myself into?

“Wait, wait,” you laughed, “You two had to ride all the way home in a freezer truck? How did no one notice you?”

“Luck. No one was paying close attention so we jumped on and ducked behind some boxes in the very back. The truck stopped after about an hour or so and as soon as the doors opened, Steve and I bolted. Didn’t stop until we were a block from home.”

The two of you had just finished eating dinner. Bucky had taken you to a small, hole-in-the-wall type restaurant. The two of you had been talking for a few hours, mostly sharing anecdotes from your childhoods. You learned some details of Bucky’s past, but he mostly told you about the various hijinks he and his friend Steve would get up to as kids. Those stories still didn’t explain much about certain aspects of his life now. He had to translate the menu since you couldn’t read or speak Czech. You were impressed that he could. You were also amazed at how relaxed you felt with him. Sure, there were a few moments where you felt a little nervous, and definitely a couple times you sounded like an idiot, but that could definitely be blamed on the effect he had on your brain. All in all, you felt you were handling yourself pretty well.

The waiter appeared at your table, and Bucky seemed to be ordering something else. “Bucky, I’m stuffed, I don’t think I could eat another bite.”

“Aw c’mon kid, you can’t skip dessert in a foreign country,” he answered, smirking, “And I also ordered some shots because why the hell not.”

“Shots of what?” The waiter reappeared at your table, carrying some kind of dessert, and two shot glasses filled with amber liquid. Bucky passed you a glass and a fork. You reached for the shot glass nearest to you, but Bucky shooed your hand away, pushing the dessert plate towards you.

“Dessert first,” his eyes flashed.

Oh, good lord, you felt the heat rise up to your cheeks. Knowing anything you’d say now would be completely incoherent, all you could do was lift your fork to take a bite of the mystery dessert. You were keenly aware of how intently Bucky watched you. Your flushed cheeks reddened further. There was no helping that. His eyes narrowed as the fork passed your lips, and he ever so slightly shifted in his seat.

Oh my god, you realized, is he... flustered? Emboldened, you dragged the fork from your mouth, letting the smallest moan escape. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. Hard.

It felt good to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Apple strudel?”

“Uh, yeah,” he answered, shaking his head slightly. Clearly, your question had snapped him back to reality. “Jablečný štrůdl. This place has the best in the city.”

“How many times have you been to Prague?” you asked.

“Just a few times, for work.”

“You still haven’t told exactly what your job is,” You hadn’t learned a whole lot about your new friend, save for a few stories from his childhood.

“Ehh, it’s complicated,” he answered. “Just... business stuff.” It was clear that he wasn’t being entirely truthful, but you also didn’t want to push it. You could only hope whatever his job was, it was legal. Besides, now he was taking a bite of the apple strudel, and you couldn’t focus on anything else. The movement of his lips as he chewed was mesmerizing, causing a familiar heat to swell in your belly. “So what inspired you to take this little trip of yours?”

“I guess I just needed some time for myself,” you replied, suddenly coming to some realizations as you spoke, “Some shit went down before I left and I almost canceled everything, but I realized I just needed like...a reset. Just erase everything from the past three years and start over, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, seemingly lost in his thoughts for a minute. “Why just the past three years though? That’s kind of specific.”

“I uh, had been dating this guy for three years,” you said, surprised that you were telling him anything, “He was actually supposed to go on this trip with me.”

“And he didn’t go with you because...?”

“...because we broke up two months ago. He was tired of being tied down I guess. And if I’m being honest, I really should’ve seen it coming. He was so distant towards the end, and I was just willfully ignoring it because I didn’t want to admit we weren’t ok. He was my longest relationship and I was too afraid of being alone.” The honesty felt good. Cathartic. Your friends and family were too close, and you really hated the pity stares they would give you whenever you mentioned the breakup, which was another reason for the solo trip. But Bucky wasn’t looking at you like that. In fact, you couldn’t really read his face at all.

“Huh,” now he was smirking.

And now you worried you had overshared, “What?”

“Well, first and foremost,” he began, “Fuck that asshole. But you’re better off. It sucks, but you’re better off without him. And I gotta say, if he wasn’t such an asshole, I would be missing out on having dinner with you right now.”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing, You took a long swig of your beer, trying to keep yourself from melting into a puddle on the floor. But now Bucky’s smirk had turned into a full-on smile. He really was going to be the end of you. Trying not to be obvious you said, “And you wouldn’t have been able to charge your phone.”

That earned you a laugh. You liked making Bucky laugh. “That’s true.” He held up his shot glass, “To shitty guys and charged phones.” You clinked the glass to his and knocked it back. It burned your throat on the way down, leaving a familiar aftertaste of cinnamon behind. Involuntarily, you shivered.

“What is this?” Your head started to swim just a bit from the shot.

“Becherovka,” Bucky said and took his own shot with ease.

“It tastes like a... weird, boozy gingersnap. It’s not bad.”

At that moment, his cell phone buzzed. A different phone than the one he had charged on the train, you noticed. His brow furrowed when he recognized whoever was on the other end. “I’m really sorry Doll, I gotta take this.”

“Of course,” you almost swooned at new pet name. He gave you a lopsided grin as he left, assuring you he’d be right back. You pulled out a compact from your purse, and quickly checked your hair, and that there was nothing stuck in your teeth. On the train, you thought letting him borrow the charger would be the end of it. But here you are now, in a foreign country, eating dinner with an incredibly hot stranger. The old you, the you even before your ex, would never have believed any of this. It wasn’t your MO. You felt proud. Proud that you were stepping out of your comfort zone. It was about time.

But you had to wonder, where exactly was this night going? What was going to happen after dinner? What did Bucky think of you? You had only known each other for a few hours. You had given him a brief overview of yourself, and while you had learned some things about him, you still didn’t know a whole lot about Bucky. You knew he was from Brooklyn, he had served in the army, although he was vague about that. And he talked a lot about his friend Steve.

But he didn’t seem to willing to tell you about his job. A job that let him travel overseas; that seemed to be a pretty standard first date conversation topic. But was this even a date? He had been a perfect gentleman the whole time; hold open doors, carrying your bags, etc. But was he just doing that to be nice? Oh, and you still couldn’t figure out why he looked so familiar.

Bucky walked back over to your table, frowning. “I’m really sorry about this, but I got... work stuff... I gotta go.”

“Oh, yeah, um, I should get to the hotel,” You did your best to hide your disappointment, but you felt your heart plummet. Bucky left some cash on the table- well, actually a lot of cash- and again, easily picked up both of your bags. You couldn’t help but think this was an out for him; that he was just not interested and didn’t want to hurt your feelings, hence the work excuse. You didn’t think it was possible, but you felt your heart sink further.

As you followed Bucky out of the restaurant, you felt the fingers of his right hand brush the back of your hand. You felt those fingers carefully latch onto yours. Bucky was holding your hand. Warmth instantly flooded your cheeks, and all doubts were forgotten. You quickly glanced up at him. He was staring straight ahead, grinning.

If the two of you weren’t holding holds you probably would’ve floated away. That’s how lightheaded you felt.

Once you were outside, Bucky flagged down a cab. He put your bag in the trunk and turned to you, “What’s the address?” You told him, and Bucky translated for the driver, handing him more cash than necessary. “Can I see your phone?” After unlocking it, you hand the phone over to him. He quickly enters something, and passes it back to you, smirking again. You look down at your phone to see his name and a number below.

He just gave you his number.

“If you’re gonna be around the city for a while, give me call,” he said. When you looked up at him, you were met with that lopsided grin and warm blue eyes. To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“I guess you’ll have to keep your phone charged then,” you finally answered. Bucky laughed, and the butterflies in your stomach took flight.

“Yeah, I guess I will,” He opened the car door for you, gesturing for you to get in. As you do, Bucky lightly grips your elbow, stopping you. It was the first time he seemed unsure of himself. You could’ve sworn you heard him say under his breath, “Aw, fuck it,” but suddenly his hand was cupping the back of your neck, and his lips were on yours and nothing else registered in your brain.

The kiss was quick, lasting maybe three seconds at most. Still, it caused your stomach to start somersaulting, and your heart was racing. Bucky smiled broadly, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m gonna go get a charger right now.”

“Please do,” Still in a semi-trance, you slip into the back seat of the cab, and Bucky closed the door after you. He leaned down to the window.

“See you around then, kid,” Bucky tapped the side of the cab, and it began to pull away. You waved feebly, and he waved back. Once he was completely out of sight, you slumped in the seat, still reeling from everything that had happened in the past few hours. The cab ride was a blur. You could only play out the evening over and over in your head, still not really believing any of it happened.

“No. No more rooms.”

“But I made my reservation months ago,” you explained. Upon arriving at the hotel, you quickly found out that you apparently had no reservation, despite paying for it long before. You had no idea how this could have happened, you had thoroughly checked and rechecked all your reservations. Whatever had happened, it was clear you couldn’t stay here.

“It is not in the system,” the hotel manager had been called to help figure what was going on. After a quick search on the aging computer- too quick, you thought- your reservation could not be found. “We have no rooms available. We are sorry for inconvenience.”

You were tired. You had gotten up early to travel that morning to do some sightseeing before leaving Berlin, and even though you definitely did not regret dinner with Bucky, your original plan had been to get to the hotel and sleep for a bit. Now it was late, nearing ten o’clock and you had no place to stay. But then you remembered how his lips felt against yours, and your spirits were significantly lifted.

Sighing, you asked, “Do you know if there’s anywhere else with an open room?”

The manager types something up on the computer, then dials a number on the phone behind the desk. She speaks with someone on the other end for a few minutes, and you feel your impatience grow rapidly. You can’t understand what she’s saying, but it seems like she’s having a friendly conversation rather than helping you find a place to stay.

“There is one hotel, 10 minutes if you walk from here.” She finally hung up the phone, and you were relieved to hear her news. She pulled out a pen and paper and began drawing and writing. “There are rooms available there. Here is map and directions.”

You take the paper from her hands, eager to get on your way, “Thank you!” The manager’s attitude didn’t bother you anymore; the thought of finally getting to sleep after a long day of traveling outweighed your annoyance with her. You head for the door, exceedingly glad that this other hotel was just a short, walkable distance away.

45 minutes later...

Maybe it was you. Maybe it was the fact that the ‘map’ the hotel manager had drawn for you was illegible. Either way, you were lost.

You stopped at a corner and let out a frustrated groan. You felt completely helpless. You weren’t sure if the manager’s handwriting was just that bad, or it was simply the language barrier, but the map and directions she had given you were impossible to read. She hadn’t marked a clear starting point, and what you assumed was your destination was circled but there was no way to tell where you were in relation to it. She may have written the address down, but you couldn’t figure out what it was in the jumble of scribbles on the page.

The thought of calling Bucky had definitely crossed your mind. More than once. But it was too soon. You didn’t want to look... thirsty. Or desperate. Or clueless. Who travels to a foreign country without securing a place to stay? You felt that you had managed to not make a complete fool of yourself, so why ruin his image of you now? Besides, the hotel you were heading to was supposed to be a 10-minute walk from the first one, you should have been able to get there on your own. No, calling Bucky was not happening. At least, not tonight.

The light changed, and it was your turn to cross the street. You continue to study the map and directions as you walk, but nothing comes of it- except for a headache. Your back was aching from your bag. Your feet were sore from walking. You were thirsty. And a little hungry. And extremely frustrated. You were just a few steps away from feeling exhausted.

You had just turned down a narrow street when you realized that there wasn’t anyone around. A few blocks ago, you passed through the crowded streets of people enjoying the nightlife. Now, you were the only person out and about. While that wasn’t enough to send you into a panic, it definitely made you uneasy.

Maybe calling Bucky wouldn’t be a bad idea. You could explain what happened and that you were lost and just needed a place to crash for the night. That wouldn’t sound too thirsty. And you were beginning to feel desperate. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized you were coming up on a dead end until your toes almost hit the back wall of the alley. You huffed and turned to leave, passing an offshoot of the alleyway, where you thought you saw someone lurking in the dark. You walked faster. You almost made it out of the alley when you crashed into the largest man you’d ever seen. He was glaring down at you, his dark eyes full of hate. You saw another man behind him, equally large and intimidating. The hairs on the back of your necks stood up. As calmly as you could, you tried to walk by them and said, “I’m sorry, excuse me.”

His hand shoved you back and you nearly fell to the ground, “Give us the bag.”

Your heart rate sped up. A cold sweat began to break out on your forehead. Your breaths were short and erratic. Then you remembered the pepper spray in your purse. As discreetly as you could, you slowly felt around the inside of your bag until your fingers closed around the canister. “Please,” you said, your voice cracking a bit, “This is all I have, please just-”

“Give us the fucking bag!” The second man barked, kicking a nearby trash can as hard as he could. The sound made you jump, and you ripped the pepper spray from your purse. Just as you were about to press down on the button, a hand grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully until the canister fell to the ground. You were turned to face a third man, grinning evilly. He said something in Czech before cracking you hard across the left side of your face, sending you to the ground. Your left knee slammed into the pavement and if you weren’t worried for your life, the pain would’ve registered. You scooted away from them until your back was against the wall. You had nowhere to go.

“Enough fucking around!” the first man growled. He reached behind his back, retrieving a gun from his waistband. He held it just a few inches from your face, “Give us the bag, and we don’t fucking kill you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes and you could barely breathe. Silently cursing yourself for getting yourself into this mess, for even taking this trip to begin with, you reached up to the strap on your shoulder, slipping your arm through. You want to scream, but terror has frozen your voice. As you slide the other strap off your shoulder, you hear the gun click. You shut your eyes, unable to face your end.

You hear the gunshot crack through the air, and let out a strangled gasp. Small pieces of concrete dust your face, and you turn to see the bullet hole in the wall just next to your head. The sound of scuffling feet, grunts, and fists connecting with flesh catches your attention. You head whips back to your would-be killers. You struggle to comprehend the sight before you.

The man who had pointed the gun at you was now on the ground, out cold and his face bloody. His wrist was clearly broken; his hand hung off it at an odd angle. You looked up to see someone standing with their back to you. Your mouth dropped open in shock as you watched this man crush the gun in his left hand as if he were crumpling a piece of paper. He turned to look at you over his shoulder and you instantly recognized him.

What the fuck is Bucky doing here and how did he just fucking do that?!

“Stay down,” he ordered. You could only nod. If you weren’t paralyzed from fear, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. One of the men left standing yells something in Czech and launches himself at Bucky. Your heart stops, but only for a moment. Every punch the guy threw at Bucky was easily deflected. But he was so distracted defending himself that he didn’t see the last man charge him, holding a knife.

“Knife!” you screamed. Bucky uppercuts the man in front of him, knocking him out. He turns just in time for the knife to be lodged in his left arm. You expected to hear him cry out in pain, but Bucky barely reacted, much to your and the attacker’s surprise. When the knife was wrenched from his bicep, there was no blood. The tear in the sleeve of Bucky’s shirt widened when the man grabbed at it, trying in vain to stop him. Instead of seeing bleeding flesh, you caught a glint of something metallic. You saw metal plates shifting. It seemed as though his left arm was covered in some kind armor.

Then it clicked. You finally figured out why he looked so familiar.

You watched James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter fucking Soldier, pull his mechanical arm free with ease. He swiftly elbowed the man square in the face. The attacker fell to the ground with a thud, and the alleyway was quiet, save for your heavy breathing.

When he was sure your attackers would not be getting back up, Bucky marched over to where you were still slumped on the ground. He gently lifted you off the ground, your hand gripping his left forearm. You could feel the hard metal beneath his shirt, and could see the plates working through the tear in his sleeve. Bucky brought your gaze up to his as he carefully brushed his right thumb over the sore spot on your cheek. His face was set with worry; his jaw clenched, brow furrowed, a storm began to take shape in the blue of his eyes. But when he spoke, his voice was calm and concerned. “What the hell’re you doing here, kid?”

It took a moment for you to find your voice, “I... I got lost. I couldn’t find the hotel.” You sounded raspy and a little spacey.

“I told the driver to take you straight there.”

“He did, but there was a problem with my reservation and I couldn’t stay there and there was a hotel with rooms available really close by so the manager gave me directions but I couldn’t read her handwriting so I didn’t know what the address was and I just got so turned around that I ended up here and right when I was about to call you they...they...” You realized how fast you were speaking, and that your whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes stung and you shut them tight to hold back the tears, “I’m sorry. I was being so stupid, I shouldn’t have walked off by myself, I’m sorry I-”

“It’s ok,” He said, putting his metal hand on your shoulder. The weight of it made you feel safe, “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’ve got a car nearby, I can patch up your knee at my place.”

You looked down. Your left pant leg was shredded and bloody at the knee. You sniffed, “I didn’t even notice that.”

“Adrenaline,” Bucky answered. He slipped the straps of your bag from your arms and again threw it onto his back. With his left arm around your shoulders, he began to lead you out of the alley, but you froze.

“What about them?” You looked back briefly, afraid that the men would be up and furious. But they still lay there, motionless. “Are... are they dead?”

“No, just in for a world of hurt when they wake up.”

“We can’t just leave them here, they could hurt someone else,” you protested.

Bucky considered his options. “Give me a sec,” He took his phone from his pocket, and was quickly speaking in Czech. He hung up about 15 seconds later. “I left an anonymous tip with the police. You don’t want to be caught up in all this in a foreign country. And I... it’s complicated.”

As the two of you walked to his car, you couldn’t help but scan the streets for anything out of the ordinary. You were on high alert; all of your exhaustion was gone. You were afraid of seeing those mens’ faces in the shadows. Any slight movement out of the corner of your eye made your heart stop for a beat. Bucky sensed this and rubbed your arm soothingly. You began to relax just a little, knowing that the Winter Soldier was keeping you safe.

You decided to focus on your realization of Bucky’s identity. That would keep what had just happened in the alley out of your mind. After a few short blocks, you reached his car. The Winter Soldier’s car. The Winter Soldier held the passenger side door open for you as you entered his car. He got behind the wheel, and now The Winter Soldier, after saving your life in a foreign country, was driving you to his place. You kept glancing at his left arm, the mechanical one, to make sure this was all real.

Neither of you spoke a word during the car ride. Bucky focused on the road, and you were too overwhelmed to make any kind of conversation. He pulled the car into a spot in front of a row of brick apartment buildings. You both got out of the car, Bucky stopping to grab your bag, and he leads you to the front door of his building. “I’m on the second floor,” he said, turning the key. Bucky held the door open for you, and you headed up the steps, with him following close behind. Once you reached the second floor, he stopped you in front of the fourth door you passed. Again, he unlocked the door and let you in first.

The apartment was small and a little bare. There was a couch and a medium sized TV on one side of the room, and on the other was a small kitchen that consisted of a fridge, about two feet of counter space, a sink, and a small dishwasher. A little black kitchen table with two chairs was against the wall to the right of the front door, and to left was a doorway to what you assumed was the bedroom. There was no decor or anything to indicate the space was really lived in.

“Have a seat,” Bucky said, placing your bag by the couch, “I got a first aid kit in the bathroom.” He disappeared into the doorway. You sat on the edge of the couch, feeling completely out of place. You were still on edge from the attack in the alleyway, and now knowing who Bucky really was, you felt extremely awkward and unsure of yourself. A dull pain began throbbing between your eyes. You almost wished he had never sat across from you on the train. But when you thought of how Bucky looked at you at the restaurant, how his hand felt holding yours, and how his soft his lips felt against yours, you immediately erased that thought from your mind.

Bucky appeared back in the main room, holding a small white box and a towel. He stopped in front of the kitchen sink, filling up a glass with water. He handed it to you as he rounded the corner of the couch. You accepted it with a small thanks and finished off half the glass in a few gulps. You didn’t realize how thirsty you were. Bucky knelt in front of you, opening the first aid kit on the floor. You looked down at your knee, which was only just now starting to ache.

“Hope you weren’t too attached to these jeans,” he said. Before you could answer, he had made the tear bigger, exposing the lower half of your leg. There was a fair amount of blood, some of which had dried and crusted. The skin of knee was red with scrapes, and one of the big ones looked to be about three inches longs. That one was still oozing a bit. Under the scrapes, the skin had bruised. “It’s really not that bad,” he assured you, “but it’s gotta be rinsed out. Just with water, no peroxide.”

“Ok,” you said. He could have pour hot soup on you leg and you probably wouldn’t have notice, the way he was cupping your calf, his thumb brushing your skin. As you looked down at him, you almost had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation you now found yourself in. An actual Avenger saved my life and invited me back to his place and he bandaged up my knee... oh yeah, and before all that, he kissed me. Typical vacation activities.

The feeling of cool water running down your leg brought you back from your thoughts. Bucky lightly swiped it away, taking care not to cause you any pain. Once he was sure your knee was dry enough he placed a large bandage over top, smoothing it with his thumb. His fingers softly trailed down your calf, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Bucky shook his head to snap himself out of it. You felt your face turn red once again. “Thanks,” you say quietly.

“Anytime, doll,” Bucky pushed himself up off the floor, eyeing the bruise on your cheek, “You need some ice for that too,” he walked over to the fridge, and you picked up your glass of water and followed. You refilled your glass from the tap. Bucky twisted some ice cubes free from a tray and placed them on a towel.

“I know you’re an Avenger,” You blurted it out. You felt you had to say it, you had so many questions. But when he froze and didn’t answer, you were afraid you had upset him. After all he’d done for you tonight, the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad.

He looked down at his metal arm, no emotion on his face, “What gave it away?”

“I’m sorry,” You scramble for words again, “I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just-”

Bucky puts his hand up to stop you, “It’s fine, as long as it doesn’t send you runnin’ for the door.” He tenses as he focuses on refilling the ice tray, and you notice the uncomfortable look on his face. He was worried about frightening you off.

“Of course not,” you say softly. Bucky relaxed, letting his shoulders droop a bit. You decided a subject was needed, and said, “So when you said you were here for work, you meant...?”

“I was on a short mission. Just gathering some intel on some illegal weapon sales, nothing big.” he answered.

“That’s what you call a business trip? Shutting down an illegal Czechoslovakian weapon ring?” you raise an eyebrow and take a sip of water.

“All in a day’s work.”

“So you just have apartments all over the world then?”

“No, I don’t,” Bucky clarified, “Stark does.”

“As in Tony Stark?” you asked, wide eyed and curious.

“The one and only.”

“Anyways,” you continued your questions, although you couldn’t believe you were in one of Tony Stark’s apartments, “how did you find me? How did you know I was in that alley?”

“I didn’t,” he explained, “I was just in the right place at the right time. Just so happened that my mission was in the neighborhood. I was just walking back to my car when I heard one of ‘em screaming at you.”

“Makes sense,” you mumble almost to yourself. You still have one question that’s been bothering you, even more so when you realized who he was. But you can’t bring yourself to ask him, so you push it to the back of your mind. Bucky pressed the towel filled with ice to the side of your face, “Ten minutes on, ten minutes off.”

You nodded, placing your hand over his, “Thank you. For everything.” He doesn’t say anything. His metal hand cups the back of your neck, the thumb stroking your good cheek. Just as he leans closer, two loud bangs come from right outside the kitchen window. You gasp loudly, jumping away from him, the glass in your hand crashing to the ground. The image of the gun being held in your face flashes before your eyes, the man’s voice screaming at you in your head. You covered your face with your hands trying to block it all out.

Hands rubbed up and down your back. You were pressed against Bucky’s chest, the weight and scent of him slowed your racing heart. “It’s ok,” he said, his breath against your ear sent a small shiver down your spine, “It was just a car backfiring out back. You’re safe.” The two of stood like that for a minute. You were too embarrassed to pull away and face him. Plus, you just really liked the way his arms felt around you. When you shifted your weight, your foot tapped a piece of broken glass.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” You forced yourself to pull away from him and crouched down to pick up the shards. Bucky joined you, using the towel you had been icing your bruise to wipe up the water. You hadn’t realized you dropped that too in your panic.

“It’s just a cup, kid,” Bucky smirks at you, taking the pieces of glass from your hands. His smile was warm and calming, like he was trying to silently communicate that he understood what was going through your mind.You wanted so desperately to go back to his embrace, to just be engulfed by him. But a sudden feeling of anxiety washed over you. You stood up just a little too quickly causing your headache to intensify.

“Well, um, like I said, thanks for everything,” you say, unable to even look at him, “But it’s late, I’m tired and my head is killing me. I should be going.”

“Going where?” Bucky asked.

“To the hotel,” you answered plainly. You picked up your bag from beside the couch and headed for the door. He stepped in front of the door blocking you from leaving. You looked up in surprise- he was fast. You met his gaze, ocean blue eyes swirling with confusion and concern.

“You don’t even know where it is. Please stay. We can try to find the hotel in the morning,” The thought made your heart flutter. But there was something in you screaming for you to run. You weren’t sure how to navigate the situation and that made you feel... scared. Despite everything Bucky had said about you earlier, you still couldn’t believe you were here. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off, “You can have the bed, I’ll sleep out here. The sheets are clean, I swear.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” you say quietly.

“And you really don’t have to go,” he countered, “C’mon Y/N, I’ll sleep better tonight knowing you’re safe.”

Any second thoughts you had left at that point dissolved completely. "Fine. But just tonight.”

Bucky took your bag, and walked to the bedroom. You followed. He dropped the bag next to the and turned to you, a triumphant smile on his face, “Just tonight.”

There was no holding back your own smile now. Clearing your throat, you said, “I’m kind of exhausted so I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“Course,” he closed the distance between you two. Bucky tucked a strand of your hair behind you ear, just like he had outside of the restaurant. You closed your eyes and savored his touch, “If you need anything, just holler.” You nodded, and he moved towards the door. “G’night kid.”

“Night, Bucky.”

You checked the clock on your phone again. It was almost 2 o’clock in the morning. You had tried counting sheep, breathing exercises, and even meditation to get you to sleep, but it wasn’t working. Every time you shut your eyes, the events from the alleyway replayed in your mind. Every little sound put you more on edge. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was running a mile a minute, and you couldn’t find a way to slow it down.

You did have one idea that could help, but you you were too embarrassed to try. You had already humiliated yourself enough, there was no need to push it any further. Instead you held a pillow close to your body and let your mind wander to the man currently asleep in the next room. You replayed every word he said to you, every smile, his laugh, his touch, the kiss...God the kiss... It was official. Bucky Barnes was officially under your skin. With that thought, you were finally able to drift off to sleep.

But not for long.

The barrel of a gun obstructed most of your view, but you recognized the man’s face behind it. The same one from the alley way. The other two flanked him, eyes black with hate. This time, you were alone. You opened your mouth to scream but no sound was heard, save for the click of the gun, and the loud crack when the triggered was pulled.

Gasping, you launched yourself from the bed, your feet tangling in the sheets sending you to the floor. You quickly kicked them from you legs, and stood up. It was now 3:30 in the morning. You were tired beyond belief and your head throbbing worse than before. Now, you didn’t care how pathetic you looked. You all but threw open the door to the room, and let out an undignified yelp at the figure standing in the doorway.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you hissed, “Are trying to give me a heart attack?!”

“Sorry kid, didn’t mean to,” he chuckled, switching on the lamp next to the bed. In the light you could see he was only wearing a plain white shirt and black shorts, and a very amused smile. But his smile faded when he took in the sight of you, “I heard something, just wanted to check in... you alright?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Crossing your arms and fixing your gaze on the floor, you said, “I can’t sleep. I... I don’t want to be alone,” you forced yourself to look up now, “Can you... can you stay with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can,” Understanding and empathy emanated from him. Together, you fixed the sheets on the bed. You climbed in on the far side, your back to Bucky. You heard the light click off and the room went dark. The other side of the mattress sank under his weight. The bed wasn’t terribly big, but he managed to give you space. You reached back to his wrist with your right hand, pulling his arm over you, eliminating that space. You hoped it was dark enough to hide your flushed face.

“Good night, Bucky.”

“Night, doll,” you swore you could the smile in his voice.

Your first conscious though was that really didn’t want to wake up. You were afraid that if you did, you’d be back home in your own bed, alone. That everything that had happened would be just a dream. But as your waking mind began slowly registering the warmth of his chest beneath you, and the steady heartbeat against your ear, and your heart swelled.

Somehow in the night, you ended up with your head resting on his chest and your arm was secured across his stomach. His metal arm circled your shoulders with your head tucked under his chin. You looked up at him, drinking in the sight of a sleeping Bucky Barnes.

His lips were parted slightly; you really had to fight the urge to press yours to his. As delicately as you could, your traced your finger from his jawline to chin. You wanted so badly to feel the stubble against your cheek. Bucky’s lips twitched upwards into a small, dreamy grin. Bolstered, you pushed a stray lock of his hair from his face. He looked so peaceful. Serene. Even if you didn’t want to stay in bed with him forever- and you very much did- you didn’t think you could disturb his sleep by removing yourself from his grip.

But the very real threat of your morning breath had you reluctantly and slowly sliding free from his arm. It dropped to where you had just been laying, his mechanical fingers slightly flexing around your side of the sheets. You forced yourself to turn away, quietly grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag. After you softly close the bathroom door behind you, you let out a long, frustrated sigh and began to brush your teeth.

Everything about this trip was just not... you. In fact the trip itself was not you. Which, to be fair, was the reason for the trip to begin with. You were supposed to be challenging yourself, trying new things, getting reacquainted with yourself, blah blah blah. You just never thought all that would entail meeting an extremely attractive stranger, having dinner with him, then having that stranger save your life, and end up cuddling with him all night. And to top it all off, turns out he’s an Avenger. And that complicated things.

What now? What was going to happen when he finally woke up? Was he going to drop the whole nice guy facade and send you on your way? Or did he genuinely want to spend time with you? Sneaking out of Bucky’s place and going on your own way did briefly occur to you. But after everything he’d done for you in the short you’d known him made you push that thought from your mind. No. The only thing you could do was just to go with it and hope for the best.

You rinsed any remaining toothpaste from your mouth and checked yourself in the mirror. Your hair was checked, making sure your bed head wasn’t too extreme while also trying to keep it as if you really did wake up like that. You definitely need to change too. You silently exited the bathroom, making sure you didn’t wake him. Bucky was in the same position you had left him in. You dug around in your bag, and cursed yourself at your oversight of not bringing any clothes to impress a super soldier.

“You trying to sneak out?” Bucky’s voice was thick with sleep. You turned sharply to see that he was propped up on his left arm, the remnants of that sleepy grin still on his lips.

“No!” you answered, maybe a little too quickly, “Just wanted to save you from my dragon breath is all.”

“That’s awfully kind of you,” he said as he stood up from the bed. Thankfully his back was to you as stretched. You had just enough time to compose yourself after the ungodly moan he let out caused you to shiver involuntarily. Bucky practically stalks over to you making you suddenly feel very small. The morning sun catches his beautiful ocean blue eyes. As much as you liked the look of him asleep, you loved his eyes in the morning. Even though the sleep had not fully left them yet, they still managed to dazzle you. When he’s only a few steps from you, he asks, “You feelin’ better, kid?”

You nod silently. You still had one thing on your mind from last night, and after avoiding it for hours, it was really nagging at you. You had to get it out before you went crazy. He opens his mouth, probably to ask what you’re thinking, but you cut him off before you lose your courage to speak your mind.

“Why did you ask me to dinner?” When your question is only met with a confused look, you continue, “It’s just that... that you’re you. The Winter Soldier. An Avenger. You save the world and shit. And I just have a normal nine-to-five boring job. I’m a boring civilian. So why would you ask some random girl out after knowing her for barely an hour?”

“Y/N, I asked you to dinner because I had a feeling, so I took a chance. And when we were talkin’, it was normal. I loved it. Nothing about secret plots to end the world, aliens, missions... I felt like me again,” Bucky closed his eyes and sighed, “I haven’t felt like that since before the war.”

You looked down at floor, unable to look at him anymore, “But if you wanted normal, you could’ve asked any other person on that train. Why me?”

“I saw you at the train station in Berlin,” he started, “you were sitting on a bench alone. I knew you were alone because you had your headphones on. Saw your bag, and judging by the size of it I could tell you packed just enough to get by because you aren’t planning on staying in one place too long.”

“So?”

“So,” Bucky continued, stepping closer to you. Your back was against the wall and he was just an inch away from your face, “when people are traveling alone and packing light, they’re either running from something, or trying to find something. And now I got a feelin’ it’s a little bit of both for you.”

“Well, I guess that’s a fair assessment,” The flush in your face deepens and you can only look down at your feet.

“No judgement, I’ve done a fair but of running myself. Must be why I wanted to find you on that train. You just had to be in the last car I checked. You were asleep so I let you be for a while before I switched seats.” Bucky tilts your chin up with a metal finger. His smirk reaches his eyes, so you know what he says next can’t be good for you, “Plus, you’re pretty damn cute. Got me feelin’ some kinda way.”

Your heart started beating wildly against your ribcage. You would’ve loved to think of some sarcastic retort, something to make him laugh, but your brain was fried. Instead, you take a page out of his book and mutter an “Aw, fuck it,” before gripping the back his neck and firmly kissing him on the lips.

Bucky froze, and for a split second you panicked. About a hundred different ways to apologize raced through your mind, but then his lips were moving with yours, and you were putty in his hands. Bucky pulled your body to his, a small gasp escaped as you mouth dropped open slightly. He took the opportunity to let his tongue meet yours. His fingers traced up and down your spine. You ran your fingers through his hair and lightly nipped his bottom lip, earning you a moan. A ripple of excitement and pleasure passed through you. But Bucky broke the kiss, and you couldn’t keep the disappointment from your face.

“Had to come up for air at some point,” he chuckled, leaning his forehead on yours, your noses touching.

“I thought super soldiers were tougher than that,” you teased. You jumped at the unexpected pinch on your ass.

“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish sweetheart,” he drawled in a low voice. His eyes darkened, focusing on your now swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, trying to quell the throbbing between your legs. It wasn’t working.

“I’m nothing if not a finisher,” you cringe. Pillow talk is not your strong point. Bucky doesn’t care. He laughs as he pulls you back with him, until he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, with you straddling his lap. Bucky’s hands are on your hips, and your hands rested on his chest. The feeling of his heart beating just as fast as yours thrilled you.

“Guess I’ll have to find out for myself,” he mutters into the sweet spot at the base of your throat. His hands slowly creeped up your sides, the hem of your shirt sliding upwards with them. You let slip a moan when his teeth bit into your skin, and you felt his cock twitch beneath you. Goosebumps prickled up your arms. For a moment, your brain went offline and you froze. Bucky stopped his movements too. He pulled away, looking up at you cautiously. “You sure you wanna keep this up doll?”

Huffing, you grab your shirt from his hands, and yank it over your head. It may have gotten stuck for a second, and made your hair fall over your face, but you got the point across. After brushing your hair from your face, you reveled in the dazed look on Bucky’s face. His lips were parted, pupils were blown, staring at your bare chest. Placing two fingers under his chin, you tilted his face up to meet yours. “I’m absolutely sure.”

“Well, alright then,” the mischief in his grin made the warmth in your belly intensify. In a flash, you were on your back, and his lips were exploring the space between your breasts. Bucky soothed every love bite left on your skin with a with swipe of his tongue or kiss. His mechanical hand slid over your right breast. The contrast of the cool metal on your heated skin was sublime. His thumb rolled over your nipple, and you arched into his touch. His other hand had dipped between the waistbands of your sleep shorts and panties, his fingers feeling the wetness that had gathered there. Bucky smiles against your chest, “I guess you really were sure.”

“Yup,” is all you can manage as he finds your clit, massaging throbbing bud. It felt like every nerve in your body had lit up at once. You whined as he teasingly circled your entrance and the pressure in your lower belly began to build. Finally, as he placed his lips to yours, two fingers slowly slipped inside. You felt your walls clench around his fingers as he dragged them in and out. The feeling almost had you seeing stars. The two fingers curled and his pace began to quicken. The pressure felt as if it were about to burst and send you over the edge.

But you weren’t ready yet.

You wanted to feel every inch of him, so you grabbed at his shirt, hastily pulling it from his body. You littered his chest with kisses just as he had with yours, leaving your own marks on his skin. Bucky’s hand was about to continue it’s previous work, but you sat up suddenly and stopped him, palming his erection through his shorts. Bucky gasped at the contact. You pull on the waistband of his shorts “Take these off. Now.” He raises an eyebrow in shock and amusement at your demand, so you quickly add, “Please.”

He laughs, eyeing your own pair of shorts, “You too then, baby girl,” He stood up from the bed, and his shorts were off in one swift movement. You know you’re mouth is hanging open, but there’s not much you could do about it. He was big. And it had been a while since you’d last had sex. Bucky grabbed a condom from the bedside table drawer, and rolled it over his cock. Swallowing thickly, you raised your hips off the bed to pull both your panties and shorts down. Your face turned a light shade of scarlet as Bucky’s eyes raked over you. He knelt on the bed by your feet. He placed his hands gently on your knees, taking extra care with your left, bandaged one, and separated you legs to settle himself between your thighs. The tip of his dick rubbed against your swollen clit, making you gasp and clamp your eyes shut.

“Hey, look at me,” you opened your eyes as he asked to see him leaning over you. Bucky brushed his nose with yours, and put his flesh hand in yours, “Just relax. We can go slow.” You nod and place your free hand on the back of his neck and a quick kiss on his lips. Using his metal hand, he swipes his dick up and down your folds a few times before carefully pushing into you. You both groan at the feeling. Once he’s inside you about halfway, Bucky stops, letting you adjust to the fullness. The strain in his voice was clear when he spoke, “Need you to tell me when baby girl.”

You took a deep breath, and tightened your grip on his flesh hand. As soon as you nodded, he began leisurely pumping in and out of you. Every time he pushed back in, he would go a little deeper than before, making sure not to hurt or overwhelm you. While you were grateful for that, the pace he had set was driving you crazy. You pull his head down so that your lips are next to his ear and whisper, “Faster.”

Bucky buries his face in your neck and you hold him close, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. His panting turned into grunts and moans as his thrusts became faster and faster. Bucky freed his hand from yours, only to start rubbing your clit. Bolts of pleasure coursed through you. With every thrust you fell further into absolute bliss. The warmth and pressure in the pit of your stomach was growing rapidly. Your walls tightened around him, “Fuck, doll, you feel so fucking good,” he looks you in the eye, half smiling, “You gonna come for me?” His thumb presses harder against your clit, and moves faster than you thought possible.

“Shit, Bucky, yes!” The pressure that he had built up in you explodes, rushing through you from head to toe. You moan, long and loud, holding him as close to you as you can. Your whole body is shaking as your orgasm subsides. Once he’s satisfied that yours is over, he takes his hand from your clit, and pushes himself up so he can grip your hips. It only takes a few more thrusts before he’s cursing through his own release. After you’ve both had a chance to catch your breath, he pulls out of you, sighing. Bucky throws the condom out, and slumps to the mattress, careful not crush you beneath his weight. The only sound in the room now is heavy breathing.

He pulls you close, so that you’re both facing each other. You throw your leg over his hip, and his metal hand is running up and down your back, the coolness of it soothing your warm skin. The palm of your right hand was against his cheek, and you lightly kissed his closed eyelid. You were tired but content. Although, now there was one thing you were kind of curious about.

“So do all of Tony Stark’s safe houses come stocked with condoms?”

Bucky laughed, “Gotta be ready for anything, kid,” He pushed some hair from your face, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “You never know who you might meet on a train,” He lazily kisses you before asking, “Speaking of which, what’s the next stop on this little adventure of yours?”

“Vienna,” you say, “Why?”

“Well, seeing as though this is your first time in Europe, I thought you might need a guide,” He said, “And I’d like to offer my services.”

“I don’t know,” you hum playfully, “What if Captain America is on the next train in need of a phone charger? It worked out so well for me the first time, I don’t think I could say no-hey!” Bucky had smacked your ass, and flipped you on your back.

“Fat chance Steve’s ever going anywhere unprepared,” He has your hands trapped above your head. He kisses you fiercely, possessively. “Sides, I don’t like to share.”

Your heart melted. You almost had canceled this trip. After the break up, you almost agreed with your friends that traveling alone wouldn’t be the best choice for you. Now, you wanted to smack yourself for even considering that. You leaned up to mold your lips to his. “Then I guess your coming to Vienna with me.”

A/N: Let me know what you think! It’s my first one so be nice please!

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #winter soldier

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austonm--atthews · 6 years ago

Text

my only one // auston matthews

based off of my only one by all time low

masterlist

chapter 16 monday june 18, 2016 aus’ pov i woke up and looked at my phone on my nightstand to see it was 10am. i rolled onto my left side to see if jack was up. obviously she wasn’t, not that i minded as she still looked beautiful as she slept. we almost always slept in when we could, but i was way too excited for today to sleep much longer. today was jack’s 18th birthday and i had so much planned. first i was going to make her breakfast, then we were going to head to the rink, and then i was going to surprise her with tickets to see her favorite band, state champs. i couldn’t wait any longer, so i rolled over and laid on top of her, my chest to hers, to wake her up. “happy birthday baby!” i squeeze her tight, pressing kisses everywhere. “thanks, but you’re suffocating me, aus.” she breathes out. “shit, sorry baby,” i get off of her and wrap my arms around her from the side, “are you alright?” i ask with concern. “yeah, i’m fine. you’re just 200 pounds and i’m only 125, so you’re pretty heavy compared to me.” she lets out a laugh, which makes my heart flutter. the sound of her laugh has always made my heart flutter. from the moment i met her, it always made me feel a certain kind of happiness that could only be explained by love.

“you’ve got a point, honey.” i hum, nestling my head in the crook of her neck and pulling her as close to me as possible. “i’ve known you for 13 years now. how insane is that?” she runs her hand through my hair, making me smile against her neck. “i can’t believe i’ve known you for that long. i still feel the same way i always have.” i meet her gaze and flash her a smile. “me too, aus.” she presses a kiss to my forehead. “do you feel any different now that you’re 18?” i look up at her for a response. “not really. i mean, i can get arrested now, so that’s different.” she laughs and looks down to meet my gaze. i burst out laughing, causing me to hold her tighter. “you’re so funny, baby.” i mutter into her neck, cuddling into her once again. “i wasn’t even trying though.” she laughs lightly. “you should be a comedian. you’re just funny.” i smile at her. “aw, you think so?” she asks with a smile. “yeah, you always make me laugh.” “aw, i’m glad i do. we should get up though, it’s almost 11.” she informs me as she looks down to meet my gaze. “yeah, you’re right. i’ll help you up.” i get to my feet and hold my hand out for her to take. “aw, you’re such a gentleman.” she smiles as she gets up to take my hand. “only for you, my love.” i pull her into me, resting my head on hers sideways. “so, do you have any big plans for today?” she mutters against my shirt. “i do, actually. i was thinking of making you breakfast and then we could go to the rink?” i raise an eyebrow, looking down at her. “that sounds great, matts. i really appreciate how you go all out for me, it’s so sweet.” she sends me a genuine smile, making my heart flutter. “it’s hard to not go all out for the cutest girl in the entire world.” i plant a kiss on the top of her head then resting my head on hers. “aw, stop it.” she waves off my compliment. “i’m just speaking the truth.” i shrug with a smile. “i can’t be the cutest girl on the planet, babe. there’s girls that are cuter than me.” she disagrees with my statement, making my heart drop to my stomach. “no, jack. you’re the cutest there is. so many girls would kill to be as cute as you are without even trying.” i say in a whisper. i put my hand on the side of her face and tilt her head up, looking into her eyes. “you really think so?” her eyes sparkle as she looks into mine, a smile dancing across her face. “baby, i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t feel that way. i love you for you. i love how you’re one of the guys. i love how simple and easy going you are. i love how you don’t need to get dressed up. i just, i love you, okay?” “aw, i love you too, aus. thank you for that.” she looks up at me with a bright smile. “whenever you need me, i’m here for you. always.” i say just above a whisper, smiling as i stare directly into her eyes. “the same goes for you. i’m always here for you.” she buries her head in my chest, tightening her arms around me. “thanks, baby, but we should get downstairs. i gotta make my baby breakfast.” i smile, ruffling her hair a bit. “aw, you’re too sweet.” she scrunches her nose. “i try, baby.” i kiss the top of her head and we leave the room to head down to the kitchen. “this is really nice of you, aus. i really appreciate it.” she smiles as we reach the kitchen. “it’s no problem really. i just want to make sure it’s your best birthday so far. i’m hoping to make the next ones even better.” i smile at her as i walk over to the fridge and get out all the ingredients. “aw, you’re too good to me.” she flashes me a shy smile. “only for you, baby.” i send her a wink as i move to the stove. “how did i ever get so lucky?” she sits on the counter next to the stove and smiles at me. “what do you mean?” i furrow my eyebrows as i look over at her. “you could’ve picked any other girl, but you picked me and i’m so lucky to have you.” she smiles as she looks at me. “no one else was good enough for me.” i shrug. “c’mon, there’s prettier girls than me.” she pushes. “i haven’t seen any.” i look over at her, a smile on my face. “that’s such a lie, but whatever you say i guess.” she shrugs with a laugh. “it’s not a lie. i really don’t find any girl prettier than you.” i look up at her from the stove, a smile spreading across my face. “really?” a smile tugs at her lips. “yes, you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen, baby.” my lips curve up into a smile. “aw, thanks. that means a lot to me, aus.” she says sincerely. “anything for my girl. breakfast is ready by the way.” i lift my eyes from the stove, looking up at her, smiling. “aw, thanks aus.” she starts to move off the counter, but i step in front of her to stop her. “wait, i wanna hug you first.” i put my arms around her, wrapping her in a hug and pulling her closer to my chest. “aw, you’re too cute.” she says against my chest. “thanks, baby.” i smile and help her get down. we sit at the kitchen table and eat, then finish eating and going back up to my room to get ready. “aus, do you mind if i borrow one of your sweatshirts?” jack asks as she pokes her head out of the closet and looks at me sitting on the bed. “no, of course not, babe. take all of them if you want.” i laugh. “nah, i don’t need all of them. i just need one for now since i didn’t bring any with me.” she grabs one i got from zurich and puts it on her arm. “you look way cuter in them than i do though.” i get up and walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into a bear hug. “no i don’t. you look so cute in your sweatshirts and sweaters.” she leans her head against my chest, then looks up at me. “aw, thanks bub.” i put my hand on the back of her head softly, pulling her closer to me. “no problem, austy.” she mumbles and hugs me tighter. “are you all ready to go?” i move my hand from her head and look down at her for a response. “yeah, i’m guessing you are too?” she asks. “yeah, i’m all ready.” i smile at her. “well, let’s go then.” she smiles, talking my hand and walking over to my bedroom door. “wow, demanding, huh?” i tease her with a laugh. “sorry, i just wanna spend time with my boyfriend.” she shrugs with a smile. “you mean fiancé?” i smirk as i correct her. “oh shit, you’re right. sorry i keep forgetting.” she smiles sheepishly. “it’s okay.” i reassure her with an award-winning smile. “i’m so excited to skate with you! we haven’t skated together in so long!” she smiles back as we get in my car. “me too! that’s why i picked it!” i pull out onto the road and flash her a smile. “i’m so glad you did.” i see out of the corner of my eye that she looks over at me and smiles. “i couldn’t think of much else that we both love.” i shrug. we get to the rink and i park the car. “it’s okay. i love playing hockey with you. you know, i’ve always wanted a hockey boy.” she looks over at me, a huge smirk on her face. “well, now you got one.” i take her hand in mine and gently kiss her knuckles. i look up at her and flash her a smile. “it was well worth the wait, i’ll tell you that.” she lets out a laugh. “i mean, i would hope so.” i laugh along with her. i open the car door and pop the trunk to get my stuff out of the trunk. she gets out of the car and takes her stuff out of the trunk. “of course it was. it’s you we’re talking about.” she tries to keep a serious tone, but ends up laughing. “good point. you were definitely worth the wait.” i put my hand on the side of her face, tilting her head up to face me, slowly leaning in and closing the space between our lips. we pull away, my hand still resting on her face and hers till resting on mine, and stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. “i love you, aus.” she whispers. “i love you too, jack.” i whisper. “not to kill the mood but we should head inside.” she removed her hand from my face and points towards the rink. “yeah, you’re right.” i laugh as we walk into the rink and then get our stuff on. we only brought our sticks, gloves, and skates since it was just us two. “you ready big guy?” she laughs as she stands up. the skates make her slightly taller, but she’s still shorter than me. “big guy?” my face contorts into a confused expression. “yeah, big guy. you’re big.” she steps on the ice and laughs. “i’m big, huh?” i retort with a smirk and a wink as i step on the ice. “auston! i meant tall and muscular! not like that!” she smacks my arm playfully, causing me to chuckle. “i know, i know. i was just messing with you, baby.” “you’re so annoying.” she shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “and you still love me.” i taunt her with a smile. “i dunno, do i?” she taunts with a smirk. “you wouldn’t have accepted my proposal if you didn’t.” i retort back. “ugh, shut up.” she rolls her eyes and skates away. “ha! i got you there didn’t i?” i skate after her and end up getting in front of her. i skate backwards to taunt her. “shut up.” she rolls her eyes and skates past me. i pick up speed and pick her up from behind. “auston! put me down!” she squirms and tries to get out of my arms. “just say you love me and i’ll put you down.” i taunt her. “fine, i love you.” she sighs. i let her down. “see? wasn’t that hard, was it?” i tease her. “i guess not.” she rolls her eyes at me and skates away. “yo, babe.” i call her back over. “yo, aus.” she imitated me as she skates back over. “i just had a great idea. grab your stick.” i nod my head towards her stick across the ice. “oh god.” she rolls her eyes with a giggle and skates over to grab it. i grab my stick and she brings hers to me. i hold my stick with the end facing me and she holds hers with the end facing her. “i was thinking i could pull you around.” i say as more of a question, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “sounds good to me, baby.” she smiles back at me. i still wasn’t used to the effect her smile had on me. it made my heart stop just like it did when we first started dating. “well, here we go.” i skate backwards and pull her around the ice, both of us laughing and giggling like a bunch of idiots. her laugh was the best sound i’ve ever heard. i loved making her laugh just to hear it. i spin her around in a circle, but then we go too fast and fall down, both of us laughing way too hard to get up. once we’re finally done laughing like fools, i make sure she’s okay. “are you okay, baby? you didn’t get hurt, did you?” i slide over to her and look into her eyes with concern. “yeah, i’m fine. i’ll probably have a few bruises in the morning, but i didn’t break anything.” she shrugs it off. “thank god. i was hoping i didn’t hurt you.” i sigh a breath of relief. “nah, you didn’t. you’ve gotten a lot better since i last skated with you though. i’d say going overseas was the best thing you’ve ever done hockey-wise.” she smiles as she looks into my eyes. “hockey-wise? have i done something better?” “yeah. you fell in love with me.” she laughs. “you’re not wrong.” i chuckle. “you know what we should do now?” her face lights up as an idea hits her. “what?” i laugh lightly. “we should do that thing we used to do. where you skate fast and then slide as far as you can.” she beams. “yeah! id love to!” “i hope you’re ready to lose!” she taunts as she gets to her feet. “i’m not, but i hope you are!” i taunt back as i stand up with her. “shut up, giant boy.” she rolls her eyes and skates down to the boards. “giant boy? how many nicknames do i have?” i follow after her. “i dunno. i just came up with it.” she shrugs. “you ready to lose?” i ask her with a smirk. “no, but i hope you are.” she smirks back. “okay, on three. one, two, three.” i count it out. we skate as fast as we can, then sliding down on our stomachs. i end up almost by the boards, obviously winning. “ha! i won!” i taunt her. “ugh, shut up, golden boy.” she rolls her eyes. “geez, how many nicknames do you have for me?” i laugh. “hmm, there’s golden boy, tall boy, big boy, giant boy, desert boy, cute boy, piggy boy, forehead boy, hockey boy, my boy, baby boy. i think that’s it.” she shrugs. “wow, that’s a lot.” i laugh. “yeah, i guess so.” she shrugs. “i just had another great idea!” “what is it?” she furrows her eyebrows as she looks at me. “we could do a photo shoot! i can use that timer thing and lean it against the boards! we can take pictures together!” i suggest. “that’s a great idea!” she beams. “let’s do it then!” i grab my phone out of my pocket and lean it against the boards. i put the timer on and we get in position. the first picture is normal, just our arms around each other’s backs and our other arms holding our sticks. in the next one i lean my head against hers and press a soft kiss to the top of her head, which makes her lean into me and laugh. after that we turn to face each other and press our foreheads together, causing both of us to laugh. i lean in to kiss her, hearing the camera shutter as our lips meet. we pull away, laughing at the shuttering of the camera. “you should probably see how they came out, especially that last one.” she teases with a laugh. “hey! i forgot it was still going.” i defend with a laugh. i skate to my phone and pick it up, bringing it back over to where she’s standing. “so, how do they look?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed. “i think they came out great.“ i look through the pictures, then handing my phone to her. “wow, they came out great. can you send them to me?” she looks at them, then up at me for a response. “yeah, sure.” she hands me my phone back and i send them to her. “so, what should we do now?” she looks up at me with a cute look on her face. “we could do a passing drill or something?” i raise my eyebrow, looking down at her. “yeah, that’s a great idea!” she exclaims excitedly. “okay, so i was thinking we could start at the face-off and see who scores first.” i explain and look down at her with a small smile. “i hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked.” she teased me with a smile. “yeah, like i’m gonna get my ass kicked.” i roll my eyes and stop at the face-off circle. “you will, just watch and learn, pretty boy.” she winks and stops at the face-off circle. “pretty boy?” i question, confused. “yeah, you’re pretty and you’re a boy.” she states obviously. “i mean you’re not wrong.” i smirk. “ugh, shut up.” she rolls her eyes. we face off and i win, taking the puck down to the other end of the ice. she makes a good attempt at blocking it, but i make it in the net. “look who got their ass kicked!” i taunt her. “you just got lucky.” she taunts back. “whatever you say, babe.” i smile at her. just then the zamboni beeps, meaning we needed to get off the ice, we hurry off the ice and into the locker room. as soon as we get in, we change out of our gear. we grab our bags and i take her hand, smiling down at her. “y’know, i love playing hockey with you. i cant tell you how much i love that we play the same sport.” i smile as we leave the rink. “me too. it’s so much fun.” she leans into me slightly. we head out to my car and head home. as soon as we walk in the door, my parents are already saying happy birthday to jack. “happy birthday jack!” my mom and my dad exclaim. “jack! happy birthday sweetie! i can’t believe you’re 18!” my mom pulls her into a warm hug. “aw, thanks!” jack hugs her back. “i heard auston has something special planned for you guys later.” my mom smiles at jack. “aw, he does?” jack smiles and turns to look at me. “i do, but i was gonna to surprise her.” i laugh lightly. “oh, i’m sorry honey. i didn’t know.” she says apologetically. “it’s okay, mom. don’t worry about it.” i walk over to her and hug her. “aw, group hug!” jack yells and wraps her arms around me and my mom. “there’s always room for another!” my mom laughs. “of course there is.” jack smiles at me. “anyways, we’re gonna head up to my room for a bit.” “okay, i’ll see you guys later i guess.” my mom smiles. “sounds good.” i grab jacks hand and we head upstairs “so, what’s the surprise she was talking about?” she smirks. “i’ll go get it. i’ll be right back.” i kiss her cheek. i go into my parents room and grab her present. “i know the surprise is ruined, but i hope you like it.” i smile at her and hand her an envelope. she tears it open quickly and a smile starts to form on her face. she opens the card and reads what i wrote. “aw, what you wrote is so sweet. i love you, aus.” she smiles at me, her eyes watering from the overwhelming emotions. “i love you too baby, but here’s the surprise i was talking about.” i bring my hands around from my back to show two tickets to the state champs show later tonight. “oh my god, you didn’t.” she starts to smile and looks up at me. “happy birthday, baby.” i put my arm around her and pull her close, planting a kiss to her cheek. “aw, thanks aus. i’m guessing you’re going with me?” she pulls me into a hug, then pulling back and looking at me. “of course i am, babe.” i smile and press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “you like state champs?” she looks at me, surprised. “yeah, i know you wouldn’t expect me to, but i do.” “aw, that’s great. i’m happy you like them.” she coos, wrapping her arms around me tightly. “as long as you’re happy i’m happy.” i pull her in close and hold her. “anyways, i’m gonna go take a shower. i’ll be right back.” she presses a kiss to my lips and leaves the room. the feeling of her lips lingers on mine. i decide to take a shower as well and change into a flannel and a grey shirt and ripped black jeans. just then she comes back in. she’s wearing black ripped jeans and her state champs shirt. “wow, you look..” i pause, not able to get the words out. “i look?” she waits for my answer. “beautiful. you look beautiful.” i stuttered out. “aw, thanks.” she smiles. “anything for my baby.” i smile at her. “aw, you wore my favorite outfit on purpose, didn’t you?” she gushes, clasping her hands together and resting them on her chest. “of course i did, darling. i wanted to make sure i looked cute for you.” i smile. “aw! that’s so sweet!” she gushes and runs into my arms, attacking me with kisses. “aw, i love you.” i hug her tight. “i love you too.” she says and smiles. “we should get going. we can’t be late for the show.” “yeah, you’re right. i cant thank you enough for this. this is really the best birthday ever.” she entraps me in a warm hug. “anything for my baby.” i press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “i’ll have to do something even better for your birthday.” she mutters against my chest and wraps her arms around me tighter. “i mean, you don’t have to.” i pull her in closer. “but i want to. you deserve it.” she moves her head away from my chest and looks up at me. “if you insist.” i sigh with a smile. “we should get going though.” she points out. “oh shit, you’re right.” i agree as we leave my room and head downstairs. “as always.” she smiles teasingly. “whatever helps you sleep at night.” i sigh and roll my eyes. “don’t push it matthews.” she warns jokingly. “like i’d listen to you, short stack.” i roll my eyes as we walk outside to my car. “sorry i’m not an ugly green giant like you.” she sighs and gets in. “ugly green giant? what?” i start to laugh and get in the car. “you’re a giant. have you looked in a mirror lately?” she looks over at me. “sorry you’re a midget.” i roll my eyes and pull away from my house. “ugh, you’re so annoying.” she rolls her eyes. “and you still love me.” i tease her with a smile. “shut up.” she jokingly sighs. “you know i’m right.” i smile. “ugh, shut up.” she rolls her eyes. “i have something that might make you love me more than you already do though.” i smile at her. “what is it?” she looks at me with a look of bewilderment. “check my glove compartment.” i nod towards it. she opens it, the newest state champs album falls out due to the clutter in there. “oh my god, you bought the album?” she picks it up and stares at it in disbelief. “yeah, i know you think i’m lying when i say i like them, but i like them a lot. i bought it so i knew the material before the show.” i smile at her again as i come to a red light. “aw, auston, that’s so sweet. i love you.” she leans over and pecks my cheek. “i love you too.” i smile at her. she puts the cd in and both of us start to sing along to the songs the whole way to the show. eventually we get to the venue and get in line to go in. the line is long at first but it goes quickly and before we know it we’re in the venue. as soon as we get in, jack can’t stop smiling. we make our way through the venue and to the ga floor, where we find a spot relatively close to the stage. it’s about two rows back from the left side of the stage. “you doing okay, princess?” i ask and lean down to jack. “never been better, baby. you holding up okay?” she smiles at me. “i wasn’t so sure about the crowd at first, but i think i’ll be fine.” i flash her a small smile. “we’re off to the side so we’ll be fine, aus. don’t worry.” she coos as she rubs my back soothingly. “yeah, you’re right.” i smile. the lights go down and people start cheering. “well, i think that’s them.” she smiles back. the two openers came on first, and then state champs came on. i wasn’t sure i would be into it like jack was, but i ended up getting into it. eventually, the show ended and everyone shuffled out. “so, how’d you like it?” jack almost screams in my ear due to the loudness of the venue we just came out of. “i actually liked it a lot. how about you?” i almost yell back since my hearing is gone. “i loved it. i really can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me today.” she looks at me with a bright smile. “it’s no problem, baby. i love doing things for you.” i put my arm around her and pull her close to me, planting a kiss to the top of her head. “i don’t know what i’m gonna do for your birthday, but it’s gonna be something big.” she says with a smile as she gets in the car. “i can’t wait to see what you plan, baby.” i back out of the parking spot and head out into the traffic of the parking lot. “i was surprised, you seemed like you were pretty into it though. i didn’t think you’d get into it.” she looks over at me. “i wasn’t sure i would be, but i really enjoyed it. it was definitely better than that one time i went with you to see the jonas brothers.” i tease her with a laugh, turning my head to see her reaction. her mouth was wide open in shock. “hey! they’re good and they’re from new jersey! besides, you said you liked them!” she jokes back, playfully hitting my arm that’s laying on the center console. “i mean, i did like them, but i just wanted to go with you. i guess you could say i had a crush on you.” i say smoothly and look over at her, smiling. “aw, little austy had a crush on me.” she teases me, pinching my cheek lightly. “don’t act like you didn’t have a crush on me too.” i retort back with an eye roll. “i did, but it’s fun to make fun of you.” she teases jokingly. “you’re so mean to me.” i say back, jokingly frowning. “c’mon, you know i love you.” she looks over at me with a smile. “i know, baby, i know.” i smile back, tilting my head to face her. “you’re so cute it’s hard not to love you.” she leans over and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pecking my cheek. “you’re right, baby. everyone loves me.” i say proudly. “debatable.” she mutters. “you’re so mean to me.” i sigh jokingly. “i mean, i love you. i don’t know about everyone else.” “even if everyone did love me, i’d still only love you.” i tilt my head to look at her, smiling. “aw, me too, aus.” she smiles back. “i was thinking, do you wanna hit wawa on the way home?” i ask her, tilting my head to look at her, then back on the road as we finally get out of the parking lot. “you read my mind! i was just gonna ask you!” she exclaims with a smile. “i guess i’m just psychic.” i say with a laugh. “i guess you are, baby.” she reaches out to rub my arm, something she almost always does when i’m driving. “i just know you that well.” i glance over and smile at her. ”better than anyone else i know.” she smiles back. “you know me just as well, sunshine.” i smile as i pay attention to the road in front of me. “do you mind if i put on some music?” she asks me. “no, not at all.” “yay!” she exclaims as she grabs the aux cord and plugs her phone in. she puts on big time rush, causing her to erupt in a fit of laughter. she screams along to the songs while dancing and i join in. eventually we get to wawa and go in. “so what are you gonna get?” i ask her, looking down as i grab her hand. “coffee and a pretzel. how bout you?” she answers and asks me a question in return. “i was just gonna get coffee. i figured you would get a pretzel and we could share it?” i say as we walk in. “yeah, i don’t mind. i cant eat the whole thing.” she lets out a laugh. “i figured you wouldn’t mind, but i didn’t want to have any without asking.” “i can’t say no to you. you know that.” she smiles at me as we go to the counter to check out. “true, i can’t say no to you either.” i laugh as we get to the counter and pay, then leaving. “i’m so glad we’re almost home. i just wanna lay down already.” she sighs as she gets in the car. “you tired, baby?” i ask as i get in the car and leave the parking lot to head home. “i’m awake, but i just don’t wanna move.” she laughs. “yeah, me too. we could just stay up until we fall asleep?” i glance over at her, raising my eyebrow. “sounds good to me, baby.” she smiles lazily. “i think my parents are asleep, so don’t make a lot of noise when you walk in.” i warn her in advance. “thanks for telling me. i probably would’ve woken them up.” she laughs. “no problem, darling.” i smile at her as i pull in the driveway. we get out of the car, making sure we don’t slam the doors. we head up to my room. “thanks again for tonight. i really enjoyed spending the whole day with you.” she takes my hands in hers, looking up at me with a beaming smile. “i love going all out for you, babe. i had so much fun with you tonight. i love spending the whole day with you.” i smile down at her, the moon illuminating our faces. “i’m so glad you ran after me that night i was crying. i don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t.” she drops my hands from hers, wrapping her arms around me tightly. “you would’ve told me eventually i’m sure.” i wrap my arms around her. “i don’t know that i would’ve.“ she mutters against my chest. “so if i didn’t run after you, you would’ve never told me?” i look down at her, her head resting on my chest, my eyebrows furrowed. “i probably would’ve, but way later. i could’ve told you after the draft so if you didn’t feel that way i wouldn’t have to deal with it.” she explains. “aw, that’s so sad. i’m so glad you told me. i wouldn’t want to do long distance.” “i wouldn’t want to either. switzerland was bad enough.” she laughs against my chest. “yeah, that was bad enough.” i laugh. “anyways, i’m gonna go to the bathroom. i’ll be right back.” she gets on her tip toes and kisses my cheek. “i’ll be here.” i laugh as she leaves the room. i change into a shirt and pyjama pants. i go over to my bed and lay down, unlocking my phone to check it. my notifications are filled with comments and likes on the birthday post i made for jack. as i scroll through them, she comes back into the room. i notice she changed out of her shirt and jeans into a hockey sweatshirt with my name and number on it. “aw, you look even cuter than you did before.” i look over at her with a smile on my face. “aw, look at you! you’re so adorable in your pjs!” she gushes, her hands clasped together against her chest and a smile on her face. “aw, thanks baby. why don’t you come lay down?” i motion my hand for her to come over to where i’m laying. “that’s where i was going, lovey.” she can’t stop smiling, even as she talks. “i would hope it was. i was starting to get lonely.” i tease her as she moves to the bed and lays down next to me, wrapping her arms around me. i put my arm around her and pull her close. “you’re too cute for me to not lay down with you.” she smiles as she cuddles into my side. “you’re so cute, especially in my sweatshirt. i love the way my name looks on your back.” i smile as i pull her into me and press a gentle, loving kiss to her forehead. “and i love wearing your name on my back.” she lifts her head up and smiles at me. “i can’t wait until you get to take my name. it sounds so good with yours.” i pull her in closer to my side, as if that’s even possible. “oh, i forgot to tell you. i’m still gonna keep my last name. i love it too much to fully take it away, but i’ll just have it hyphenated.” “oh, i don’t mind. i know your last name means a lot to you. mine means just as much to me so i completely understand.” i send her an understanding smile. “good, i’m glad you’re not upset about it.” she smiles. “it would be silly to be upset over that.“ “yeah, you’re right.” she agrees. “oh, did you see the birthday post i made for you?” “no, i didn’t know you made one. show me!” she says excitedly like a little kid on christmas. “i’m sure you’ll love it.” i smile at her as i grab my phone and unlock it. “i’m sure i will, baby.” she grabs my free hand and kisses it softly, then intertwining her fingers with mine. “here it is.” i show it to her and give her time to read it. i typed out a long paragraph about how much i love her and how lucky i am to have a girl like her in my life. “aw, you really feel that way about me?” she looks up at me, tears welling up in her eyes. “of course i do, love. i love you so so much and i’m so so lucky to have a girl like you in my life. i don’t know where i’d be without you. even if we weren’t together, i’d still want you in my life. there’s no one else i’d rather have by my side. i know it hasn’t always been easy for us, but you’ve stuck by me no matter what and i appreciate that so much. you’re the most amazing fiancée any guy could ask for.” i wrap my arms around her tightly, pulling her into my chest. “aw, aus, that’s so sweet.” she gushes. “i’m not even done yet, baby.” i smile as i meet her gaze. “oh, sorry.” she laughs. “it’s okay. i just wanted to tell you how much i love you. i love every bit of you, no matter if you agree or not. you’re so beautiful. every morning i’m met with your beautiful face. it reminds me of how lucky i am to have a girl as beautiful as you. you’re literally the cutest. you could wear a trash bag and still be cute. even after all these years, you never fail to make my heart race. i know you think there’s girls who are way prettier than you, but i can promise you there’s not. you’re the prettiest girl in the world in my eyes.“ i look down, meeting her gaze. the tears in her eyes are rolling down her cheeks, a contradicting smile across her face. “you really think so?” she stares at me in awe. “i’ll never stop trying to make you see what i see when i look at you. i see my whole world right in front of me. i see the girl who has my heart, who knows me better than i know myself, the girl i want to spend the rest of my life with, who can cheer me up when i’m down and make me laugh so hard i cry. you’re the light of my life, baby. i just want you to know i love you more than life itself and you mean the world to me.” i stare into her eyes, my hand on the side of her face, a smile spreading across my face. “you really feel that way?” she puts her hand on mine and starts to smile. “yes, of course i do. i love you.” i smile, pulling her into my chest and wrapping my arms around her. “i love you too. so so much.” she wraps her arms around me tightly. “i just wish you saw yourself the same way and didn’t compare yourself to other girls. just because you think they look more attractive than you doesn’t mean they actually are. you’re the most attractive girl in the world in my eyes. obviously you’re adorable and cute and beautiful, but you have a great personality. you’re so funny and kind. you’re so beautiful inside and out. i’ll never stop trying to make you see what i see.” i whisper and pull her in close. “aw, you’re so sweet. i really appreciate everything you do for me, matts. it never goes unnoticed.” she moves her head on my chest, then getting in the right spot and stopping. “i would do anything for you, my love. i would do it ten times over if i had the chance.” i pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “i’d fall in love with you ten times over if i could.” she says, burying her head in my chest. “me too. i love loving you princess.” i pull her closer and hold her tight. “i love loving you too, sweetheart.” she smiles and pulls herself closer to me. “we should get to bed. it’s been a long day and i’m sure both of us are tired.” i suggest. i look over at the clock to see it’s currently 3am. “yeah, you’re right.” she agrees. “goodnight, my love. i love you endlessly. don’t ever forget that.” i whisper and press a soft kiss to the top of her head. “goodnight, aus. i love you endlessly too. don’t ever forget that.” she tightens her grip around me, lazily kissing my chest.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagines #auston matthews imagine #hockey fan fiction #my only one #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl imagines

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