#I was gonna finish the hot & cold leather jacket but got side tracked and ended up with four new ones instead

[xiuminuwu]

Posting some new cc today🤩🤪

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 3)

(part 1) (part 2) 

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: mention of past sexual harassment, very mature karaoke (lol), mention of pornography

Day 63 and you still hadn’t talked about it.  He’d actually gotten to know you a lot better over the past two months, even almost confessing his feelings for you with that stupid half-asleep storybook thing he’d done way back when, but you still hadn’t talked about the night you saw him looking in the rearview mirror.

Tonight actually reminded him of that night; this time was a premiere, for a movie you hadn’t actually been in but apparently you were supposed to go anyways?  He didn’t get it but he figured he didn’t need to.  As long as you came back alone this time, he’d be happy.

Of course, when he saw you step out to the car to leave for the venue, he was confident that would be impossible— not that you ever looked bad on a red carpet or anything, but wow… this was different.

“It’s not too slutty, is it?” you asked him nervously, spinning around to show him the back.  Don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass—   

“Just slutty enough,” he responded with a gloved thumbs up.

“Perfect,” you smiled, and he opened the door for you to get in the back.  He took a moment to catch his breath before circling around to the driver’s side.

You actually chatted with him on the way, which was a new thing you two had started doing when he drove you.  He looked forward to your talks a lot— especially the ones where you ranted about whatever was on your mind.  You would usually apologize for rambling but he liked it; and, you were cute when you got really worked up about something, even if he thought it was kind of trivial.

As he pulled up to the red carpet, with cameras flashing and the indistinguishable yelling of reporters and fans, you shot him a look as if you didn’t want to go.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you shook your head incredulously, “I just… I wish you would’ve come and seen it.”

He recalled a few weeks back when you offered him a ticket to the premiere showing, but he’d insisted on just sticking to what he knew and letting your assistant have the spare ticket.  “I’ll catch it on Netflix,” he dismissed.

“No, I mean, I wish you were coming with me,” you explained.

Was it hot in here, all of a sudden?  Because his cheeks felt warm.  “Uh, you don’t want me in there.  I always fall asleep in theaters anyways.  Just go have fun and I’ll catch you after.”

“Okay,” you nodded with an adorable little smile.

So he waited, wondering if he should’ve taken you up on it all those weeks ago, but decided he probably made the right call.  He would just embarrass you in a place like that, more than likely, and you had enough to deal with already.  He felt more useful waiting in the wings than being in the spotlight, to use a fittingly-timed theater metaphor.

It was a few hours of him killing time in the car, but he got to relax a little more since the event already had pretty good security on its own.  You’d recommended a book called Flowers for Algernon to him, even lending him your copy for the time being, and so he leaned his seat back and picked up where he’d left off from this morning.  Of course, if he had known that you’d be gone long enough for him to finish, and that the ending was going to make him cry, he probably wouldn’t have read it.  WIth his luck, it was inevitable that he’d be all but sobbing when you texted him to pull the car around.

Wiping his tears and hoping his eyes wouldn’t be too red, he tossed the book into the glovebox and started the engine.  You waved cheerily when you saw him from the entrance, and he attempted to navigate through all the other cars pulling up so he could reach you.  Thankfully, you didn’t have a new friend with you this time— or an old friend.  Jealousy crisis averted, for now.

“How was it?” he asked with a smile as you opened the door and slipped in, unable to hide how happy he was to see you.

“The premiere itself was a lot of fun, I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in ages; the movie, though?  Sort of pretentious,” you admitted as you shut the door and he got the car moving again.  “And way too long!  I could watch movies all day, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch a movie all day!”

“Fair enough,” he laughed.

“What did you do?” you asked innocently.

“I finished your book,” he frowned, trying not to think about it so he wouldn’t get emotional again.  

“Ah, I can tell you’re still a little hurt about it,” you smiled mischievously.  “Should’ve warned you about the ending.”

“No, no,” he disagreed, “it’s not a bad ending just because it’s a sad one… it was a good book.”

You’d already been smiling, but your smile undeniably changed as he watched it in the rearview mirror.  Something softer, something more sensitive.  He liked this one better.  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Just in time to interrupt the moment, you saw something on the passing street outside that caught your attention.

“Ooh, karaoke!” you piped up, pressing your face against the inside of the window excitedly.  “Pull over!”

He chuckled at how easily distracted you were, but did as you’d asked.  He barely found time to slow down to a stop before you were opening the door and running out, flashing your ID to get inside.

He groaned as he realized how completely unsafe it was for you to be in a bar… especially now, when you were at your most recognizable and literally still wearing what you’d had on at the premiere.  Thankfully, he managed to pull the car around and park in the closest spot he could find, jogging to join you inside the bar and hoping you hadn’t already made too much of a scene.  His hopes were dashed the moment he pushed through the door, however.

“Is she perverted like me?  Would she go down on you in a theater?” you sang along with the grungy backing track of Alanis Morrisette’s You Oughta Know; your lips were curled into a faux snarl as you stood on stage with your heels in one hand and the microphone in the other.

Bucky’s head fell into his hands, looking around to see hundreds of bar patrons, nearly all of them with their phones out filming you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Bucky mumbled to himself, hoping you would somehow hear it and take his advice.  Instead, you pantomimed sucking a dick with a cute little wink and everyone cheered.  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“And I’m here, to remind you,” you continued, jumping around wildly; you looked like you were having the time of your life, honestly.  If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve let himself smile seeing you so happy.

During the bridge, you stole someone’s water off their table and poured a bit on your head, slicking your hair back and shivering from the cold.  There was something about the water dripping down your face, starting to soak your clothes and make your skin glisten...

Bucky glanced around to make sure no one was looking at him before subtly adjusting his jeans.

He watched you sing the entire song, making most of the notes and definitely capturing the anger of the original song— if clearly having a lot more fun with it than most would.  The entire bar cheered when you finished, and you took a moment to take some pictures with people and meet a few fans, which he thought was sweet even if his bodyguard instincts forced him to interrupt after a moment.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he guided you away gently.

“Goodnight!” you waved goodbye to someone who was already buried in her phone and posting the photo you’d taken with her.

“Have a good time?” he asked sarcastically as the two of you began to walk out together.

“Would’ve been better if you hadn’t been glaring at me the whole time,” you smirked.

“I wasn’t glaring, I was just… watching.  You have a good voice, you know.”

You seemed surprised by the compliment.  “Oh.  Thanks.”

“And your stage presence is certainly… energetic,” he grinned.  “I bet your little charade is already trending.”

“I checked, and it is,” you giggled, showing him your phone for a moment where Twitter was open and you were the #7 topic in the United States and climbing.  “And the part where I poured that water on myself is pretty gif-able, don’t you think?”

He raised a brow as he held the back door of the bar open as you slipped back on your heels and walked past him.  “Is that why you did it?  For the reaction?”

“I did it cause it was fun,” you corrected.  “You wouldn’t know anything about that.  And the water thing was just practical, I was getting hot in this dress.”

That didn’t seem to be a problem anymore with the way you shivered in the night air as he walked you through the parking lot.  “Want my jacket?” he offered.

“No,” you frowned, but you eyed the leather with a hungry stare.  He chuckled and took it off, draping it over your shoulders anyways.  “How far is the car?” 

“Uh, a block?  Not much parking this time of night,” he explained.

“Ugh, these heels,” you groaned, “they hurt so bad.  I don’t know if I can make it.”  You began to slip them off but he stopped you.

“You can’t go barefoot out here, god knows what’s on the ground,” he shuddered; what if there was broken glass or something?

“Well, I can’t wear these,” you frowned, “and I probably shouldn’t be walking on asphalt in red bottoms anyway…”

He probably should’ve warned you before he scooped you up into his arms, but it was sort of instinct and he kinda forgot to say anything first.  You squealed a little but then went lax in his grip.

“You’re gonna carry me the whole way?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s only a block,” he shrugged, adjusting you in his arms a bit before starting the walk. 

It got quiet after that, the cool night air rustling the trees and blowing through his hair— frankly, he was a little chilly without his jacket, but it looked better on you anyhow.  The drive home was quiet, too, or at least quieter than usual, but it didn’t feel awkward, necessarily.  It didn’t feel like a lull in the conversation; it felt more like the conversation had just changed from verbal to non-verbal.  You both looked around at the city lights surrounding you on the drive, silent because there was nothing that needed to be said.  It wasn’t nervous, or tense, or anxiety-inducing like most of his interactions with you (or with anyone) could be.

It felt like time spent with an old friend.  He hadn’t known you long enough for that to be accurate, but he was happy to think of you as a new friend.  He just hoped you thought the same.

Arriving at the house, he dropped you off at the front and watched you make a mad dash for the stairs and presumably your bedroom, smiling to himself as he parked the car and came in to follow you.  He saw his jacket tossed onto the couch and your expensive shoes discarded right by the door.  Going upstairs and peeking into your room, he saw your limp form flopped onto the bed, your back exposed from the low cut of the dress.

“You’d better not get comfortable, you’ll kill me if I let you fall asleep with all that makeup on,” he frowned, leaning against the doorway.

"I couldn't fall asleep yet, anyways.  I'm wired."

“Any plans to burn off all that energy?” he pressed.

You groaned a little as you sat up, starting to unclasp all the jewelry on your wrists, around your neck, and on your ears.  “It’ll take me a while to get out of all of this— but not as long as it took me to get into it,” you laughed.  “Then I’m thinking TV and beers.”

“Beers?” he questioned, emphasizing the plural.  “You plannin’ to get toasted right before you go to sleep?”

“No, it’s plural because there’s one beer for me and one beer for you,” you explained with the slightest air of condescension, but he couldn’t really think of it as rude since it was an invitation.

“I don’t want to intrude on your chill evening,” he refuted.

“No, really, you’re not intruding!” you insisted, standing up and setting the jewelry on a nightstand before approaching him and turning to face away from him.  “Will you unzip me please?”

He stammered a little.  “I don’t… see a zipper,” he admitted with a weak voice.

“It’s on the side here, see?” you lifted your arm a bit, and pointed to it.  

Reaching out to touch your zipper was reminiscent of that old boardgame Operation: he needed to touch the zipper and only the zipper, cause if he bumped into anything else nearby, he got the feeling he’d get zapped.

His breath caught a bit as he watched more and more of your skin become exposed, the zipper ending up so low that he could just barely see the top of something lacy around your hips— and he had to stop there because anything more could induce cardiac arrest.  

“Thanks!” you piped up happily, slipping away to your closet to do the rest in private.  “Will you get the beers while I take my makeup off?” you requested through the shut door.

“Sure,’ he replied, turning to leave but realizing he should ask first: “Shiner or Pabst?” 

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled, and he laughed because it was a stupid question.  Trodding downstairs, he grabbed the Shiners from the fridge, stopping to check his phone only to see that it had started to automatically send him headlines pertaining to you.

‘Touch of Blood’ star gives impromptu karaoke performance at Queens dive bar!

He laughed at the picture of you onstage, even though he thought it was kind of reductive to describe you by a movie you’d been in so long ago when you had so much great new stuff coming out.  Jumping back up the stairs, beers in hand, he found you makeup-free (aside from some leftover mascara and eyeliner that hadn’t really made it all the way off) and in a robe, laying on the bed as you pointed the remote at your TV.  He thought you looked almost more beautiful like this than you did on the red carpet; of course, objectively, everybody looks better when they’ve been painted to the point of perfection, but he liked the domesticity of this.  When you were casual and relaxed like this, he could almost, almost pretend you were his girlfriend or something.  And not, you know, a global superstar and his employer.

“Beer me,” you requested as he sat down next to you, handing you a bottle and trying to ignore the thorough view of your legs he was getting in that robe.

“Anything good on?” he prompted as he watched you scroll through the channels on the guide.

“Uh, not particularly,” you frowned.  

“They’re showing a game,” he pointed out as you passed the sports channels.

“I’d rather watch this pay-per-view porn,” you rolled your eyes.

He cleared his throat but said nothing because he was confident there was no good response to that.

“Hey, I’m in this!” you beamed, changing the channel quickly.  He nearly had a heart attack until he realized you weren’t scrolling through the porn channels anymore.

He recognized the film instantly as the one of yours that he’d seen the most, for one very embarrassing and slightly sinister reason; looking down to the corner, he saw the HBO logo and realized it wasn’t going to be edited.  His palms got a little clammy but he tried not to worry about it too much.

“Oh, this girl was super nice,” you remembered as you pointed to a character on-screen.  “She had a bigger role but most of it got edited out.”

“That must be a bummer,” he imagined.

“Eh, it happens,” you shrugged.  “Beats getting fired, or recast in the sequel.”

“Have you ever been fired during filming?” he pressed, morbidly curious.

“Once,” you nodded.  “We were only a few days into it so they had no trouble finding somebody new and redoing my scenes.  Just think: I could’ve been a Bond girl if I’d slept with that producer.”

“You— what?!” he squawked.  “You got fired because you wouldn’t have sex with a film exec?”

“I got fired because of ‘creative differences,’” you explained with exaggerated air quotes, “and, unrelatedly, those creative differences surfaced the morning after I refused to get down and dirty with the EP.”

“Jesus,” he shook his head, “that’s… I hope you told someone.”

“Yeah, anonymously.  Somebody will care someday, but not yet.  He’s still too profitable, and not enough people have come forward.”

He glanced over at you, admiring your profile as you kept your eyes on the TV and took a sip of your beer.  When you turned your head and looked back at him, he realized he’d been staring a bit too long.

“What?” you asked, quirking your brow a bit. 

“What?” he repeated.

“You’re staring at me,” you frowned.

“Sorry, I was just… sorry,” he shook his head and looked back ahead.  What he found there wasn’t much less embarrassing, though: he knew all too well that this was the scene right before THE scene.  The scene he’d watched over and over until his arousal overpowered his shame.  The scene that he’d used to try to satisfy his crush on you, but it only made it worse.  The scene that had burrowed into his mind and deepened his obsession even as he fought it with everything he had…

You know, that scene.  And he was about to watch it with you.  

Bucky was completely, entirely, and supremely fucked.

[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 6 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.  

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode four. Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: The following chapter is finally here! It took me a while to revise it because I wanted the action scenes to not suck super badly, so yeah. 

(warnings: mentions of death, gunshots, blood, injuries) (word count: 3K)

six: shield

You sat next to Sam as he typed in a computer and Helmut Zemo nursed his headache. Once he gained consciousness, he’d showered you in gratitude and niceties, and you were already close to knocking him out yourself.

T-minus what, four hours? The Dora Milaje would be there soon enough.

It’s he the one to break the comfortable silence, only filled by the soft clicking of Sam’s keyboard before.

“Were you ever offered it?”

“What?”

“The serum.”

“No.” Sam said, raising an eyebrow at you with an amused expression. You shrugged.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Sam’s mouth turned down, and he slowly turned to Zemo.

“No.”

“No hesitation, that’s impressive.”

You got up from the table, making a round so you could watch Zemo’s face as he spoke. He’d seen you usher Karli Morgenthau out of the factory basement, and you wondered what he had made of your actions.

“Sam, you can’t hold out hope for Karli.” His eyes met yours as he said that, and you looked away, circling a pillar and walking to be on the other side of the couch, by his feet. “No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone.”

You sighed. “You talk in absolutes. People aren’t like that, Zemo.”

He studied you again.

“And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst people. Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

Zemo spoke with such conviction that you were sure you’d be also be harboring a bullet if he knew who, and what, you were.

“Isn’t that how gods talk? And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” Sam’s eyes flitted to you, and you offered him a tight smile. “Blood isn’t always the solution.”

When Steve had talked to you about handing over the shield for the first time you were doubtful. He was grieving the loss of his own time – your time, too – and second-guessing his own claim to it.

You never stopped believing in Steve when he did. You and Bucky were war. Steve was… the end of it. And not just because of the serum. He was that since you all were small and scrawny, him a little scrawnier and a little smaller, as he stopped you and Bucky from butting heads.

For Steve, you, and Bucky as well, that shield meant everything. It meant the salvation of the world from true evil, that in the 1940’s was personified in the form of a little man with a moustache. Whoever carried it carried the responsibility of being the harbinger of that freedom. Of relief, justice, and most of all... hope.

So when Steve talked to you about handing over the shield a second time, this time to capable hands instead of a glass dome, you understood – it was time to pass the mantle to someone who was, indeed, a new beacon of hope.

Safe to say, the fact that John Walker now carried the shield you put so much importance into felt wrong.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky strolled in, seemingly in a sour mood. You chuckled, and watched as he discarded his things on the counter.

“You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam quipped, and you patted his shoulder affectionately when you walked past him to get Bucky to make you a drink too.

You swiped his jacket off the counter and hanged it neatly on the back of one of the barstools. Bucky licked his lips and shook his head as you mouthed ragamuffin at him.

“Pour me one.”

“Can you hold your liquor now, sugar?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed the glass he had fixed for himself.

“Now you pour yourself one.” You took a sip, smiling into the glass.

Bucky glared at Sam. “Shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

You shot Bucky a disapproving look. He raised his eyes briefly at you while pouring his drink, and shrugged.

“Buck—”

“I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

“James Barnes!” Goddamn Bucky and his hard-headed self.

Bucky looked at you like he used to look at his mother, wide eyed, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It only lasted for a second, his bewilderment falling into a scowl right after. Behind you, Sam chuckled.

You shook your head at Bucky, but you had no time to fall into an argument. The one and only John Walker and Lemar Hoskins were bursting in, demanding to take Zemo. Ordering, really.

“Hey, slow your roll.”  Sam said firmly. “Man, let’s be clear. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth.”

You bottomed up your whiskey, knowing whatever was to come couldn’t be good.

“Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. And we’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next.”

Walker challenged Sam next. He looked eager and ready for a fight, and as much as you’d loved to keep your real abilities hidden, you figured your time out of the spotlight was running out. Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eye, relaxed stance contrasting with the tightness of his jaw. Zemo paced behind Sam, still clutching his own drink.

The moment Walker put down the shield an iron spear cut the air and lodged itself into the pilaster, separating him and Sam.

No, not iron. Vibranium.

The Dora Milaje.

“Even if he is a means to your end… Time’s up.” Ayo announced in Xhosa. You grimaced.

You sighed heavily when John decides to one-up them, too. Ayo swings the spear at his arm when he touches his shoulder and a fight breaks out. You reached for the liquor again.

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world.

The fight was only Walker and Hoskins getting absolutely overpowered by the warriors while you, Bucky, Sam and Zemo stayed out of it.

“We should do something.”

You swirled your drink, taking a small sip. “I am. I’m observing.”

“Looking strong, John!” Bucky shouted, making you have to hide a snort. Sam exhaled heavily.

“Such a diplomat, you. Bucky…”

“I’m a lot of things, Samuel.” You shrugged, but finished your drink anyways and hiked up your sleeves.

You, Bucky and Sam all ran to take one of the Doras each. As one kicked Hoskins to the couch you stepped in front of him, blocking the hit of her spear with your forearm.

You met her eyes and tilted your head apologetically. When she raised her weapon again you twisted your body and landed a back kick to her middle.

She staggered back a couple of steps but was back at you in an instant.

Hit. Block. Kick. Another hit to your shoulder.

Even if the fight was fairly balanced, Super Soldier against Dora Milaje, you knew you had a slim chance of actually winning. You hadn’t been in a fight in years, much less with someone this capable and trained.

After blocking another of your strikes with her spear, she hit the side of your left knee. It’s your bad one.

East Berlin, 1987. You had been undercover for nearly two weeks now, tracking a lead about the existence of a HYDRA lab that was conducting experiments with new Super Soldiers.

The wind that cut through the rooftop of the building you stood on testing the very limits of the overcoat you wore on top of your tactical suit.  So damn cold. You tried not to dwell on how frigid your toes were inside of your boots, instead concentrating on watching the sun slip behind the skyline.

You were waiting on a man that would give you the next lead. Intel said he would be there before you, but he wasn’t when you got there. 10 minutes had gone past the accorded meeting time, and you were starting to think that no one was coming.

A bullet ricocheted on the concrete pillar you were stood behind, and you realized why S.H.I.E.L.D.’s contact was running late. You grabbed your own pistol, still hidden by the concrete, and peeked in the direction the shot had come from.

A man and a woman, in full leather. You saw the red star etched on their left arms as they marched towards you. HYDRA.

You had two exit options, one that was across the rooftop or jumping down into River Spree. Either way, you’d have to deal with the two HYDRA agents that approached you.

You ran to another pillar, shooting at them. You hit the woman on the leg, and she buckled down. Her counterpart didn’t even spare her a look, continuing his way to you. You kept shooting, missing a few and landing the rest on the both of them, the guy barely flinching.

You didn’t understand why he wasn’t using his own gun. Maybe he didn’t feel the need for one.

There was no time for thinking. The man was onto you; swatting your gun away, blocking your punch, hitting your chest. You crashed into concrete.

The woman joined in, landing a hard blow to the side of your skull. Your eyes widened. They were just as strong as you.

Super Soldiers.

You crawled away from them, hand swatting at your leg for your knife. It landed in the woman’s throat with a squelch. One down.

The man was much stronger it seemed, you barely able to keep the fight balanced even with another of your knives. You cut and ripped, but it was like your blade was a feather on his skin.

He backed you up until the edge of the building. You could see the river below.

You groaned when he headbutted you, and you go stumbling down. The blood was hot against your face and metallic on your lips.

He stomped on your knee. Again. And again. You choked on your own agony.

His voice was all you heard before he kicked you off the ledge. You plunged into the freezing air.

Hail HYDRA.

Familiar pain laced through you, making your hairs stand on end. You cried out, nearly tumbling straight to the ground.

The clank of metal hitting the ground and a spear shot at the direction of the shield ended the fight. Bucky’s vibranium arm laid limp and detached on the ground, his expression even more perplexed than when you had scolded him earlier.

You straightened yourself up as the pain subsided. Ayo opened the doors to an empty bathroom.

Zemo. He has slipped right through your fingers while you were busy defending John Walker’s ass from the Dora Milaje.

You helped Sam to his feet as they were leaving, Ayo giving you one last stern look before leading the way out. It felt like a reminder of a debt.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam said, looking at a limbless Bucky. The arm seemed to snap back into the right place, thank goodness for that. A failsafe, then.

“No.” Bucky rotated his arm, an indecipherable expression on his face, even for your standards.

The room was filled with tension as the three of you gathered yourselves again and John Walker sat defeated on the ground, with only Lemar to check up on him. You walked past them to get inside the bathroom, frowning at the drainage hole Zemo had made his escape through.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo,” Sam murmured.

“I can.” Bucky clenched his jaw. “Come on.”

Bucky led you through the backstreet and to the back of the building, though you weren’t sure exactly what you were looking for. A lead, maybe, but neither of you knew if Zemo had made his way all the way to the underground or escaped to the streets once he was out.

“You okay? You got hit pretty bad back there.” Sam said, looking at you. You all had taken a decent beating, but the hit to your leg had taken you by surprise. Bucky frowned.

“I’m good.” Bucky frowned deeper, and you shook your head at him, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “I got a bad knee, it’s all. Replacement cap and everything.”

Sam laughed.

“You’re 106 and have a prosthetic kneecap? Wow, you’re starting to sound your age.”

“You know what, Wilson? I think you should respect your elders.”

Sam raised his hands, still laughing. “Okay, okay. But only ‘cause I saw you kicking ass back there. Girl, where the hell have you been?”

Bucky grumbled something, and threw an arm around your shoulders.

“Retired.”

You patted his cheek lovingly, and laughed a little when you caught him fighting a smile. Sam got ahead of you, sending you a look of mischief and wiggling his eyebrows.

You urged Bucky forward, earning a huff from him as you got to Sam’s side.

Compartmentalizing was necessary. Zemo was on the loose, Walker was verging on unhinged, and there was still Karli to deal with. Whatever was going on with you and Bucky – and the insistent feeling that tugged on your heartstrings whenever you looked at him – would have to wait.

You listened to Sam’s conversation on the phone, his tone growing more concerned at every pause. Sarah. Overnight bag. Take the boys.

“What happened?” Bucky asked and you slipped from under his arm.

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.”

Shit.

“Sam, I got a safehouse in New Orleans.” You said once he hung up. He nodded at you, and you took his phone to get his sister’s contact.

Karli was entering dangerous territory. Before, you considered her a fighter on a rightful cause, but as if predicted by Zemo, she was escalating. You feared that it was a fight you couldn’t let her win, or run free.

“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number.” Sam’s phone chimed. “She said come alone.”

“I’m comin’ with you.” Bucky looked at you. “We are.”

“Let’s gear up, boys.”

---

You were grateful you had kept your old tactical suit inside your closet for a rainy day.

The suit was carbon black, except for the blue-grey Kevlar plating on your chest, back and upper legs. It had a faint resemblance to an armor, and the amount of impact it could absorb made you protected and difficult to take down. You completed your gear with your trusty boots and hidden knives.

Sam had changed into his wings and Bucky into his peculiar one-armed leathers.

“Damn, you look cool.”

A laugh escaped your lips. “So do you, Sam.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “We should go.”

The sky was cloudy and the air dry, and still you could feel a storm coming. You walked into the empty building, you and Bucky tailing Sam.

“Karli!”

The redhead revealed herself, standing on the second floor. Sam went to talk to her, leaving you to watch them from a distance.

Karli looked at you and Bucky there, her eyes lingering on you for a few seconds more. You realized how menacing you must have looked, the three of you in full gear, and you wondered if Bucky felt as strange about your rigid stance as you did about his.

The two of you really had changed.

“I was gonna ask you to join me. Or do the world a favor and let me go.”

If only things were that easy.

Sam looked at the screen on his wrist and turned to you in alarm.

“It’s Walker.”

A trap. Bucky was the first to leap to the ground, colliding with Karli in the process. You and Sam landed at the same time, and you hoisted Bucky up while Sam clashed with the girl.

He sent Karli to the ground with a flying kick.

“I’ll send you the location, go!”

You and Bucky leapt into the street and broke into a fast sprint as Sam took off.

“You’re fast!”

You looked to your side at Bucky, smirking. He was just a little behind you.

“I’m lighter!”

“No fair!”

“You have a metal arm!”

Bucky led you to the location Sam had sent him. Riga had plenty of empty buildings, it seemed. You were running up the stairs when a Flag Smasher jumped on you, then another on Bucky.

The guy and you dragged yourselves all the way to the top, exchanging punches. You saw his eyes widen under the mask when you landed a boot on his chest and he went flying backwards.

Taking the free time you had bought yourself, you searched for Bucky below you. As soon as you found him the Flag Smasher tackled you, hoisting your body up. You hit his shoulder blade with your elbow and he bumped into the railing, quickly turning and hanging you over the edge.

“Y/N!”

Bucky was upside down. No, that was you.

He reached for you as the other Flag Smasher had him locked in a rear choke.

“I’ve got this!”

Tightening your legs around the man, you let yourself fall, taking him with you. You crash at the bottom of the building.

“You said you had this!”

Bucky jumped to your level.

“I do!”

You stared at his scowl for a brief second before roundhouse kicking your foe and finally putting him down.

Bucky returned to you after dealing with his own Flag Smasher. He looked furious.

“You’re so fucking reckless!”

Oh, Jesus H. Christ. You couldn’t believe Bucky, wanting to argue.

“I am fine! It wasn’t that high.” You huffed. “We have no time for this, James. Let’s go.”

You ran to the top of the building, Bucky trailing behind you. He caught a flying knife right before it lodged itself on your face. He glowered at you as if to say you don’t got this.

Not sparing him a response, you busy yourself with fighting another of the Flag Smashers, this time a woman. It was like all you needed was a little warming up, because you’re clearly in advantage as you blocked her punches and grabbed her torso, slamming her into the ground next.

You looked up. John Walker was staring at you.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on whatever he saw, one of the men coming from behind and immobilizing him.

Karli screamed as she ran towards Walker. She was in it for the kill. Hoskins tackled her before she could do it. All you could make out was the blur of an altercation.

Lemar Hoskins slammed into a pillar with a crack.

Your stomach churned.

Everything stilled as Walker ran to his partner, desperately trying to get him to wake up. He slumped sideways, his head lolled down.

He was dead.

Karli and her group took advantage of the tumult and ran, her shooting one last look at the rest of you as they took off. You couldn’t let her get away this time, though, so you immediately go into pursuit.

You shot one look behind you, seeing Bucky and Sam follow you as you whizzed through the streets of Riga. You’re the first to get to the square, making your way to the middle of the crowd hastily.

Walker stoop upright, holding the shield over the body of one of the unmasked Flag Smashers.

It was broad daylight; there were dozens of people around you.

The city was silent.

He was dead.

[mymoonagedaydream]

Leather Jacket

Summary: Your genius business idea seemed to have attracted the wrong sort of people to your brother’s bar- at first

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x y/n

Word Count: 2.3k (one shot)

Warnings: Moderate smut, language

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a shorter story but I got carried away :)

---

‘Same again, oh sweet goddess of the nectar.’

‘You keep that up George and I might have to take you home with me tonight.’ 

You smiled at the swaying, grey-bearded man supporting himself on the bar, before moving over to the beer tap and refilling his used pint glass. Most punters would get a fresh one each time, but George was never sober enough to care. Steve trudged towards you with a crate half-full of dirty glasses and dropped them on the counter exasperatedly. 

‘Everything alright?’ You asked.

‘Not really.’ He leant against the counter and crossed his arms. ‘It’s the same as last night and the night before- I’m barely making ends meet. When I bought this place we had at least twice as many regulars as we do now. What am I doing wrong?’

You’d worked in your brother’s bar for three years now and you hated to admit it, but the place had gone downhill. It was clean and the booze was cheap enough, but there was no real reason for someone to stop there instead of at the three other bars on the street. 

‘Maybe it’s not about what you’re doing wrong, maybe you’re just not doing enough things right...’ You were careful choosing your words, not wanting to upset him. 

‘What the hell does that mean?’ 

‘Well, the bar down the street seems to have a little monopoly on attracting those biker guys- if we could get some of them in here we’d be sorted.’ 

Steve actually seemed to be considering your idea, which was new. Usually he treated you like a child. 

‘I’ll think about it.’

---

When you arrived at the bar the next evening, you were taken aback by what you saw hanging in the window. A huge piece of neon-yellow card that’d been scrawled on in black marker.

‘Leather jacket = 20% off drinks’. 

Christ. No subtlety there. It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, but at least he was trying. You noticed that there were no bikes parked outside, so it must not have worked yet. Opening the door, you saw an empty bar, as usual.

‘Just give it time.’ Steve said to you at least ten times during the first two hours of your shift. ‘It’s foolproof.’

Much to your annoyance, he was right. About half an hour later you heard a chorus of motorbike engines approach the bar and then shut off simultaneously. Steve gave you an excited grin. 

The door swung open and a dozen surly-looking guys in leather jackets spilled in. One of them, presumably their leader, approached the bar and asked Steve for twelve of his cheapest beers. 

You glanced over at him. He was handsome- really handsome. Slicked back hair, stubble and bright blue eyes. He spoke with a pretty thick Brooklyn accent, joking with his friends whilst passing round the bottles. You only realised how inconspicuously you’d been staring when he met your eyes and gave you a knowing smirk. Whoops. 

‘How soon is too soon to say I told you so?’ Steve propped himself next to you with a smug smile.

‘It’s still too soon.’ You feigned sadness, pushing past him to go on a glass run. ‘My feelings about the situation are very raw.’ 

Before you could move more than a few steps, Handsome stopped you in your tracks. 

‘Could we get a couple more beers darlin’?’ 

‘Sure’ you muttered, trying to avoid the eyes of both your smug brother and the attractive stranger. When he took the bottles from your hands he smirked at you again and your stomach flipped. 

Nah, you weren’t about to hook up with a random stranger at your brother’s dive bar- that’d be a terrible habit to get into. Next thing you knew you’d be waking up next to George. 

You collected a couple glasses, absentmindedly humming along to the rock music that Steve played because he thought it gave the place ‘an edge’, when someone grabbed your arm. They yanked it, hard, causing you to drop the crate. 

‘When you gonna marry me sweetheart?’ your captor slurred, uncomfortably close to your ear. 

‘Rumlow you fuckin’ asshole, you know you’re now allowed in here anymore.’ You tried to pull your arm out of his grasp but he squeezed tighter and drew you closer to him. ‘I swear to god let me go or else-’

‘Or else what, sweetheart?’ His hot liquor breath spread all over your face. You backed away, just about to shout for Steve. 

‘Or else you’ll be leaving on a stretcher.’ A gruff voice from behind you chimed in. You spun your head round. Handsome was still sitting on a bar-stool, holding his beer, but his head was turned and he was staring intently towards the two of you. Looking around, you saw that all of his leather-jacketed friends were doing the same.

Rumlow gave an indignant laugh. ‘You know who I am?’

‘I couldn’t give a fuck.’ Handsome stood up and approached the man who still had your arm grasped tightly. ‘Let her go and leave quietly, you don’t want any trouble.’ 

Your arm was finally released. The two of them were squaring up, you could see the shit heading towards the fan. 

‘Alright guys, break it up.’ Seemingly from nowhere, Steve placed himself between them, setting a hand firmly on each of their shoulders. Neither of them broke eye contact. ‘Rumlow, you need to go.’

You barely processed what was happening, it was so fast. Rumlow swung his fist up and hit your brother right on the cheekbone. Steve stumbled backwards, and less than a second later five guys in leather jackets had Rumlow pushed up against the bar, with Handsome’s hand firmly against his neck. You sprinted towards Steve, steadying him on his feet and examining the side of his face intently. 

Handsome didn’t take his eyes off his target. ‘You need him gone?’

‘That’d be great.’ Steve replied while you ushered him towards a bar-stool and found the first aid kit. 

Rumlow was lifted off the ground by a cluster of leather and unceremoniously thrown onto the street outside. 

Once the vigilantes had returned, Steve reached out to shake their leader’s hand. ‘Thanks for that. I appreciate you looking out for my sister. When she stops fussing she’ll grab you all a round of drinks, on the house.’ 

‘Anytime.’ Handsome replied, flashing you a wide smile. 

The rest of your shift was, thankfully, pretty quiet. The leather jackets stayed for hours and almost bought the bar out of cheap beer. Despite the throbbing pain in his face, Steve was thrilled. If this kind of business carried on he might even be able to open a chain. 

Closing time came, you grabbed your jacket and headed out, leaving Steve to happily cash up. When you opened the door you were marginally surprised that Rumlow wasn’t still lying in the gutter- he must’ve scuttled back to his cave. 

It was a beautiful evening. You stood outside and took a deep breath of fresh air.

‘You need a ride home?’ 

Startled, you turned to your left and saw Handsome, standing by a motorcycle and finishing off a cigarette.

‘How much have you had to drink?’

He chuckled and dropped the cigarette butt. ‘Probably too much. How about I walk you home?’

‘It’s three blocks and I’ve done it every night for three years- I think I’ll be alright. Thanks anyway.’

‘Well why don’t you let me take you for a ride? Tomorrow night?’ He was persistent, you’d give him that.

‘My mother told me not to trust strange men with motorbikes.’

‘Am I a strange man?’

You smiled and turned to walk away, adding over your shoulder ‘Jury’s out.’ 

‘The name’s Bucky by the way.’ He shouted after you. 

You didn’t look back, but you guessed that wouldn’t be the last you saw of Bucky.

---

As predicted, the leather jackets turned up at the bar again the next night, much to Steve’s delight. Bucky planted himself down on a bar stool in front of you. 

‘Eleven beers and a tap water.’ He passed the beers out amongst his friends, shooting you suggestive looks over the rim of his water glass. 

For the rest of the evening you fought an internal war. On the one hand, you were a grown-ass adult and you were allowed to hook up with devastatingly attractive men on motorbikes if you wanted to. On the other, you didn’t want to make a habit of hopping into bed with seasoned bar-dwellers. Christ, you wished you weren’t so susceptible to a deep voice and a good smile.

When you left, he was waiting outside for you again. 

‘I’m stone-cold darlin’. How about that ride?’ 

‘If I say no, will you give up?’

His smile widened into a grin and you went a bit wobbly. ‘What do you think?’

‘Alright. Just to shut you up.’ 

You approached his motorbike, grabbing the helmet he was holding out for you. He straddled the silver machine and patted the seat behind him. Cautiously, you joined him on the bike, making an effort to keep a pretty sizeable gap between his back and your body. 

‘You’ll want to hold on tight darlin’. I don’t hold back when I’m trying to impress.’

‘I think I’ll be alright.’ 

He gunned the engine and sped away from the bar. Less than a couple seconds after you’d set off, you found yourself swiftly closing the gap and grasping Bucky’s waist as tight as you could. He wasn’t joking about holding back. You buried your face in the back of his shoulder and felt his chest vibrating- he was laughing, obviously very pleased with himself. You stayed in that position for a while, sneaking peeks but quickly burying your face again when you saw how fast the landscape was whizzing past. 

Finally, he stopped.

‘You can look now.’ He whispered over his shoulder.

Slowly lifting your head, you saw the breath-taking view. The Brooklyn Bridge, lit up and shining against the East River.

‘Holy shit.’ You whispered. Bucky laughed again.

‘Thought you’d like it. Beautiful, right?’

‘I’ve never seen it like this before, it’s incredible.’ 

You rested your chin on his shoulder, in awe. Both of you sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, bodies pressed together, feeling every breath and movement the other made. He closed his hands around yours, still resting at his midriff, and leaned his head back to look at you. You blushed, feeling his gaze resting on the side of your face.

The moment was shattered when you heard shouting coming from behind you.

‘Hey! No bikes in the park, asshole! What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ You turned to see a dark silhouette with a flashlight sprinting towards you.

‘That’s our cue to leave.’ Bucky declared as the motorbike roared back into life and sped away. You couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Where do you live?’ He shouted over his shoulder, and you shouted the answer back. 

A couple of blocks before your apartment, the heavens opened and rain battered down on the two of you. Still holding Bucky’s waist, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes- feeling the rain, the vibrations of the bike, the body pressed tight against yours. You’d never felt more alive. 

When the bike stopped, you hopped off and wiped the rain away from your face. Bucky stood up and moved towards you. Both of you were drenched, both breathing heavily and not taking your eyes off each other. 

He smiled, pulled you in by the waist and pressed his lips against yours.

Before you knew it, the two of you were spilling through your apartment door, mouths still locked, tearing at each other's clothes. He pulled your legs up to circle his waist and pushed your back against the inside of the door, moving his mouth down to your neck. Before you knew it you were down to just your underwear, feeling the wet fabric of his jeans scraping against your bare thighs.

‘You know’ he muttered, ‘you never even told me your name.’

You pulled his face back towards yours and, just before your mouth collided with his, you whispered, ‘y/n.’ 

‘Well, y/n’ he breathed between your lips, ‘where’s your bed?’ 

You slowly pushed him away before grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards your bedroom. Seeing the direction you were headed in, he grabbed your waist from behind and lifted you off the floor again, carrying you towards your bed. Your breath hitched and your head collapsed back onto his shoulder, your whole body going limp under his touch. 

‘You like that?’ He teased, softly biting at your ear.

You were flung onto the bed. Bucky watched as you flipped onto your back and gazed up at him in anticipation. He slowly undid his belt, stepped out of his trousers and, not moving his gaze from your face, pulled his t-shirt over his head. Climbing onto the bed, he pushed your legs apart, settling himself against you and lowering his head to your chest. 

Starting slow, building up your pleasure until you could barely think straight, he kissed and caressed every part of your body he could find. You occasionally heard a deep chuckle in response to your unbridled moaning, the gruffness of his voice and vibrations from his chest only sending you further into your spiral. You clawed at his back, feeling your climax approaching with every one of his increasingly vigorous movements. Feeling you come undone underneath him sent Bucky over the edge, and he collapsed onto your chest.

He rolled over onto his back, both of you panting and sweating. After he’d caught his breath, he moved in closer and snaked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you onto your side to rest against him.

‘I’ll be honest’ you smiled ‘I didn’t have you pegged as a cuddle-after-sex type guy.’

He kissed the top of your head, ‘I didn’t have you pegged as the kinda girl who’d end up in bed with a motorbike-riding stranger from a bar. Guess we’re both pleasantly surprised.’

---

[sunjaesol]

baby, you ain't being slick

juke | human!au + strangers | title: juice // lizzo 

He didn’t want to be here. Alas, his friends could be persuasive if they wanted to. 

After a shit day in the studio, another rejection letter from agencies all around, contrived lyrics scratched on lined paper and one sugar crash, Alex and Reggie decided to go to a karaoke bar. Of all places they could go to take the edge off, they decide on an establishment that would literally be his cause of death. Luke despised karaoke bars. Why listen to drunk people blabber lyrics they didn’t know (nor cared about) into a shitty mic at two am while sipping on an equally shitty margarita? Why torture himself with music when music itself was kicking his butt as of late? 

But then Alex told him mocking drunk people was fun and Reggie begged for a chance to sing ABBA, so Luke couldn’t refuse. He already acted like a douche enough today. 

So there he sat, on a barstool at Neon Affluenza on a Wednesday night peering into the aforementioned shitty margarita. The place recently opened and has gotten pretty good reviews, Luke quietly admitting that the vibe of the bar was pretty dope. Dark walls and black hardfloor flooring, dimmed lights and purple LED giving everyone a mysterious glow. The stage was small, as usual, with an underpaid DJ on the side playing the tracks. It was packed, loud chatter and clinking glasses overpowering the slurring words of the heavy-lidded, burly man onstage working his way through a Céline Dion track. Luke wondered for a second if the singer thought about how many people butchered her song and brought slander to her name every second of the night in all the karaoke bars all over the world. Oh well. At least she had a record deal and, you know, any significance. 

Alex sat next to him, grinning face illuminated as he texted Willie, as Luke lazily let his gaze drift across the room. The man has stopped and gotten a weak applause, the next person ascending the stage and singing - Jesus fucking Christ, kill him now - “Firework” by Katy Perry. This night truly was the worst. 

It didn’t help that for some reason, three girls have come up to him. Was this an ongoing bet from one friend group or something? To see which one of the girls could crack him? Any other night, he would’ve relished the attention, maybe even chatted one up enough to go home with. Flirting was second nature to Luke. The third girl was his type too! When he rejected her avances, she just shrugged and continued her way to Reggie. Which, he must admit, was a pretty confident move on her part. Regardless - Luke wasn’t in the mood and nothing, or no one, would change that. (Maybe he could sneak back to the studio...)       

“Excuse me-” A female voice called out, tapping his arm. 

He rolled his eyes. “Not interested.”

She scoffed. “You’re sitting on my jacket, asshole.”

Turning to face her, he froze for a beat. His unimpressed glare turned surprised at how pretty she was. Like, “double take on the street”-pretty. If he thought the girl from before was his type, he was mistaken. This was his type. She regarded him with minimal interest, brows raised and arms crossed. 

“So?”

His reply stuttered out slowly. “Uh... huh?” Awesome. He was twenty-three and unable to speak to a pretty girl like some pimply eleven year old playing spin the bottle for the first time. 

She tugged on his stool and - oh. The stool wasn’t leather, it was suede. He was sitting on her leather jacket. Shit. He terribly hoped he didn’t have butt sweat, or else mortification would take him out and not the piercing belt of the drunk singer. Either way, he embarrassed himself. 

“Shit!” He rushed from his chair and held the garment out for her. “Sorry!”  

With a sneer, she grabbed it from his grasp, fingers brushing and letting heat ripple up his arm. Holy shit. Yup. The night took a turn. He had to know who she was. 

She pulled the jacket on. “Thanks, I guess...” Just as she was about to disappear back in the throng of drunkards, he called out for her. 

“Uh, hey! I didn’t get a name!”

The girl turned around, an amused - hella attractive - expression flitting across her face (damn, in what factory did they make her?), and tracked his body with her eyes. Instinctively fixing his slouch, he hoped she was into that punk-rocker aesthetic. That jacket was sort of a clue, right? 

An ironic smile tugged on her lips. “Thought you weren’t interested, loverboy.”

Oh, fuck. His flirting game found their match and it was wrapped around a 5′4 girl with glossy curls and eyes glinting with challenge. Luke recovered as fast as he could from his whiplash and swaggered over to her, a charming smirk falling on his lips - the one he so often pulled to make the front row fawn. The girl didn’t look away, raising her chin to level his intensity. A giddy feeling spread in his chest. This could be fun. 

“That’s before I knew the leather jacket belonged to a pretty face like yours, princess.”

“Trust me,” she laughed, also attractive. Everything about her was fucking enigmatic. “I’m not a princess.”

He tried again. “What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?”, she shot back. 

He licked his lips, grinning, and held his hand out. He’d gladly bridge this animosity if it got him a name and a number. “I’m Luke.”

His hand was met with cold air, the girl laughing again and showcasing the cute, little gap between her teeth. It should be an imperfection, but it kind of made her better. Jeez, he didn’t even know her! Why she was laughing, however, he didn’t know. He’d lie if he said his ego wasn’t slammed. 

“Are you-?”

“Next up: my girl Julie with Lizzo!” The DJ yelled in the mic, a gaggle in the crowd hooting and whistling. His dream girl winked, throwing a thumb at the stage and shrugging like she felt sorry for interrupting the conversation.  

“That’s my cue. Bye!”

“Wait!” Argh! He didn’t pay attention to the DJ! Now he still didn’t now her name! A beat later, though, the latter words processed. Lizzo. This girl was going to sing... Lizzo? The most revered pipes of the 21st century? Yeesh. Maybe she wasn’t so perfect after all. 

The girl jumped on the stage like she owned it, the first notes of “Juice” booming from the amps, her body moving with the beat. Straightening her jacket and mirroring the smirk he just sported himself, Luke’s throat went dry. 

“Oh.” Alex casually came to stand next to him. “That’s Julie.”

“What?!”

But then she opened her mouth and any sensical thought flew out the window. Her voice was fucking magnificent. Clear, kind of raspy, yet loud and strong and an undercurrent that suggested years of rigorous training. This was not just some girl singing - she was singer. 

If I'm shining, everybody gonna shine I was born like this, don't even gotta try

Her eyes searched across the heads and then stuck on him, that damned smirk widening and sending him a look that would bring any man to his knees. And then, to finish him off, teasingly waved at him as she spit the lyrics. 

I'm like Chardonnay, get better over time Heard you say I'm not the baddest bitch, you lie!

Julie zoomed through the lyrics with ease, dancing and singing like it was breathing, and oozing every bit of confidence a person could have. Cocky nods and flirtatious winks and sinking in her knees to direct a lyric to people in the crowd. He corrected his previous thought: she wasn’t a singer, she was a performer; and she had him stammering. 

All of a sudden, she jumped offstage with the mic, the adoring audience parting for her like the Red Sea and the bartenders brightening the LED’s to give everyone a proper look at what she was doing. Luke should’ve known that one verse wasn’t enough - should’ve known that if he was the Flirt King, Julie was the Flirt Queen. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face though. She was incredible and - fuck it - the coolest girl he’s ever met. 

Coming to a halt right in front of him with that smile meaning checkmate, she obnoxiously pointed at him as she sung the bridge to the audience. 

Somebody come get this man I think he got lost in my DMs, what? My DMs, what? You better come get your man I think he wanna be way more than friends, what? More than friends What you want me to say?

Luke was shaking from laughter, flushing red yet buzzing with exhilaration at this girl putting him in his place. Putting on a show! Where has she been all his life?! 

Before he could snatch her waist, she ran back to the stage to belt out the last chorus with all her might, a dazzling smile breaking through. It was the first genuine, earnest one of the night and... wow.  Julie was breathtaking. 

Alex, unfazed, pressed his phone in his face. “She’s a singer from LA. Thought you’d know her.”

Her song ended, applause so deafening the pedestrians probably heard too, Julie making a silly face and bumping fists with the DJ. She must be a regular here. Weaving her way back to the bar, Luke mustered all his bravado into a laid-back stance and nonchalant smile. He couldn’t hide the mischievous spark in his eye though. That checkmate was still up for grabs. 

“A water, please,” she asked the bartender. Catching her eye, she turned towards him. “Hello again.”

“Gotta admit, Julie-” he leaned back, elbows propped on the bar. “-wasn’t too bad.”

From the way her eyes lingered on the movement, triumph flared in his chest. She came closer, cocking a hip and placing her glass next to his arm. “Ha! I can sing circles around you.”

He leaned in with a grin. “You’d be surprised.”

She didn’t back down. “Is that a challenge?”

“Ask me again in the morning.”

Huffing, she uttered: “What makes you think I’d go home with you?”

“Cause I do ‘wanna be way more than friends’ and, well-” He closed the space between them, calloused fingers tugging on a curl and tucking it behind her ear. Her skin was hot from the lights. For a beat, her resolve waned.“You’re still here.”

Those eyes that have been driving him wild flickered to his lips. He held his breath in anticipation. One night with this girl and some snarky lyrics later and he’d be back on the saddle. This was what he needed to get out of his funk. After, everything would just go back to normal. Right?  

Her lips suddenly grazed his, gaze flicking up and giving him a killer grin. Right - maybe not entirely back to normal. He wouldn’t mind Julie giving him a look like that more often. 

“You got yourself a deal... loverboy.”

@blush-and-books @willexx @unsaid-emily @alexjulies

[jenonctcity]

My Addiction - Part 1

Differences – Lee Donghyuck

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au

Warnings: Drug Use, Violence, Explicit Sex, Sex under the Influence.

Word Count: 5.6k

Lee Donghyuck would punch you if you addressed him by that name. Instead, it was best to call him Haechan, which is the name he much preferred, the name he had given to himself after he’d moved out of his parents house and decided to make his own living instead of leeching off of mummy and daddy. Don’t get him wrong, he loved getting money thrown at him to keep him out of his parents’ hair, but he resented his father, and didn’t want anything more from him after the age of seventeen. He was very close to his father when he was growing up, but the day he walked in on his father fucking his secretary, his opinion changed, and he couldn’t even look his father in the eye without wanting to hurt him. His grades started to drop at school, and eventually he dropped out. He ended up living in a shared apartment with the only people he thought he could trust - Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun. He realised he needed money to live, and without anything to prove he did well at school since he didn’t take any exams, he did what most people frown upon. He became a drug dealer. And a very successful one at that. To give himself a more edgier appearance he got some tattoos, cut a slit into his eyebrow, grew his hair out longer to give it a messy appearance, and involuntarily got a scar on his cheekbone that he tells people he got from a fist fight, but in reality he got it when walked into a doorframe from trying to see if he could navigate with way around the apartment with his eyes shut. He’d tried to avoid actively taking the drugs that he sold, but it was hard not to when he remembered he was keeping his dad’s infidelity a secret from his mum. He found that a line of cocaine helped, and if anyone tried to tell him otherwise, they’d get a smack on the nose.

It wasn’t long until he was the most sought-after drug dealer in their local area, and he was soon rolling in money, and pussy. Women threw themselves at him left and right, and who was he to decline half an hour of intense pleasure that would end in a sweet orgasm. He liked to pride himself in the fact that he wasn’t as much of a slut as Renjun, which he often said to the poor boy’s face. Every other weekend, he’d help out at his uncle’s mechanics, manly to maintain face with the law so if they came knocking at his door asking how he had so much money, he’d be able to say that he has a legit job. Plus he enjoyed toying with cars and keeping himself busy on the weekends that Renjun would have a screaming baby in the apartment.

The cool air of night sent a shiver down Haechan’s spine as he stepped out of the crowded club, his thick leather jacket not doing a good job in keeping him warm. The music faded to a muffled booming noise as he walked down the street, tucking his hands into his pocket to try and maintain the warmth within his fingers. His cheeks felt hot despite the cold air slapping against them, the alcohol in his system slowing wearing off the more he walked down the dark streets. He hadn’t had much to drink, but after his third drink his cheeks went red and felt hotter than a pool of lava.

“Get off of me you creep.” He heard a high-pitched voice command in a rather calm manner. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head to look down the alley way beside him that was light by nothing but dim moonlight.

“Come on baby, just a quickie.” He could see the silhouettes of two people stumbling around in the pitch black, both figures faceless from the lack of light, but he didn’t think the stumbling was from alcohol, rather from the girl trying to push the man away from her.

“No get fucked you pervert.” The sound of skin slapping skin made his eyes widen as he assumed someone had been slapped, but he was unsure who had slapped who.

“You little skank!” One silhouette shoved the other up against the wall and Haechan saw your figure under the small ray of moonlight that slipped through the gap in between the buildings.

“Oi!” He shouted into the alleyway and walked up to you, grabbing you by the elbow and frowning at you. He could see your face clearer now that he was less than a metre away from you. Your face looked confused as you looked up at him, slightly tugging your arm back from him. “I wondered where you’d gone baby. Come on we’re going home.” He started to drag you out of the alleyway, wanting to avoid confrontation with the man if he could.

“Hey what the fuck do you think you’re doing? She’s mine for the night.” The man slurred, following after you both. Haechan noticed that the man was taller than him, but he didn’t care. His jaw clenched and he pushed you behind him as the man followed you out to the main street where it was brightly lit by streetlights.

“Back off.” Haechan growled, folding his arms across his chest with an eyebrow raised.

“What are you gonna do big man?” He reached out to ruffle Haechan’s hair and as he did, Haechan grabbed his wrist and shoved the man up against the wall. He grabbed him by the collar, getting the pocketknife he kept in his pocket out and flicking it open. He held it against the man’s neck and smirked at him.

“Do you really want to find out? Big man.” The mans face paled in colour, and he shook his head. Haechan let go of him and gave him a shove. “Fuck off.” The man scurried off and Haechan smirked, turning around to face you as he put the knife back in his pocket.

“You finished showing off?” You stood with your arms folded, jutting your hip out as you rested your weight on your right leg, your eyebrow raised and an unimpressed look on your face. Haechan frowned in confusion and shock at your reaction. He couldn’t deny how attractive he found you, stood there in your navy-blue dress that hugged your figure perfectly, paired with a pair of black, high heeled boots with your hair blowing in the wind. He was amazed that you were shivering from the cold.

“What?” He tilted his head, putting his hands in his pocket as he attempted to stare you down. You didn’t feel intimidated by him, yeah you thought he was attractive, and the red rose tattoo with a black and white skull he had on the left side of his neck was making you weak in the knees, his naturally black hair had a messy look to it, like he’d had a thousand pair of hands running through it.

“As hot as that was, I had it under control. Next time, mind your own business.” You said with sass that was more intimidating than bratty. Haechan had never had a woman speak to him in that way before, and he was utterly baffled. He was expecting you to show him gratitude, not give him a telling off.

“Like you had it under control Princess, you were a minute away from being some crackheads cock sleeve.” His scowl told you that he didn’t like your attitude, but you could care less.

“No I wasn’t.” You snapped, starting to storm off down the street, a sway in your walk from how high your boots were. He followed you, finding you interesting and strangely not liking how you were just leaving him there.

“A thank you would be nice.” He caught up with you and walked beside you. You glanced his way with a scowl, looking him up and down and noticing he had quite long legs that were clad with black skinny jeans. You also noticed the tattoo he had on the back of his hand, it was of a lion’s face and it looked incredibly detailed.

“I’m not thankful though.” You grunted, looking forward and pretending that you weren’t freezing your ass off in the wind. “Why are you following me?”

“I’m waiting for you to say thank you.” He deadpanned, keeping up with your quick pace with his own long strides.

“Thank you. Now do one.” He smirked to himself but made no effect to change his direction. “I thanked you, why are you still following me?!” You raised your voice, getting irritated with him.

“I’m just making sure that you get home safely.” He shrugged, pulling off his leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders. If you didn’t feel like your nipples were about to fall off from being so cold, you would have told him to shove his jacket up where the sun doesn’t shine. But because you feared for your nipples, you accepted the jacket with a roll of your eyes.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, actually meaning your gratitude this time but not daring to look at him. He gave you a genuine smile, shivering but trying not to be bothered by it as he walked you home. You got to a block of apartments, not too far from where his own apartment building was situated, and you turned to him. “This is me; you can go now.” You shrugged off the jacket and held it out to him.

“What’s your name?” He asked out of the blue, biting his bottom lip as he stared you up and down once more, his eyes dragging over your figure slowly.

“(Y/N). Thanks Hyuck.” You turned and entered the building, not paying him anymore attention as you let the door shut behind you in his face. He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle, deciding that he liked your spunk as he pulled his jacket back on. He definitely wanted to come across you against at some point. He froze suddenly, his eyes widening as he realised that you had called him by the nickname he went by when he was growing up.

He suddenly felt like he needed to see you again even more.

---

You were seeing red. How dare someone think they could stand up your friend on a date they had arranged. Not on your watch. Your friend didn’t know where he lived, but you called around and as soon found out where Lee Jeno lived, you were stood in front of his door with your fists clenched, pounding on the wood. The door flung open and a tall boy with broad shoulders answered, his blond shaggy hair flopping over his forehead but you could still see his dark eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?” He asked, his voice deep and his eyes raked up your body slowly.

“Are you Lee Jeno?” You raised your own eyebrows, tapping your foot impatiently on the floor as you folded your arms over your chest.

“Nope, hang on.” He turned his head and shouted out into the apartment. “Jeno! Come here, you’re wanted!”

“Who is it Jaemin?” A deep voice called back.

“Some girl!” He stepped back as another tall boy emerged from within the apartment, his hair as blond as the other boys but his pushed off of his forehead with an undercut. You felt slightly intimidated by this guy’s harsh gaze, his strong facial features making him look scary despite how much of a neutral face he was pulling. This must be Lee Jeno.

“Do I know y-” He was cut off by your fist connecting to his jaw, his eyes widening and his face flinching, but apart from that he hardly reacted. Jaemin’s mouth popped open and he was quick to put himself between you and Jeno. He put his hands on Jeno’s shoulders as Jeno went to step forward, clearly not amused that you had laid your hands on him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are huh?!” You shouted at him, trying to get past Jaemin so you could let Jeno have it again. You weren’t scared of him, and you felt a huge rush of adrenaline at the thought of fighting someone like Jeno.

“Fuck off little girl.” He growled, trying to get past Jaemin. He wasn’t going to hurt you, he just wanted to frighten you, as he felt like you were getting way too cocky with him.

“No! Why did you stand Leah up?!” You screamed at him, trying your hardest to get past Jaemin but the tall boy didn’t seem to be budging.

“Haechan help me out here!” Jaemin shouted into the apartment, starting to sound slightly out of breath from holding the two of you apart. All of a sudden, another body wedged its way between you and Jeno. Your frowned and completely stopped when you saw the man who’d walked you home just nights before.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You looked at him in confusion.

“I live here. What the fuck are you doing here?” He quipped straight back, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Trying to beat up this bitch.” You motioned to Jeno with a nod of your head. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re trying to beat up someone who fights for a living. You’re dumb.” You scowled at him as he turned around to Jaemin and Jeno. “I’ll handle this.” He grabbed his jacket and keys shutting the door behind him. “Let’s grab some coffee.”

“I don’t want coffee.”

“Then have some water, I don’t give a fuck.” He shrugged, nudging you as he started to walk, urging you to walk with him. You rolled your eyes but followed him anyway. He had on a soft looking grey jumper, paired with ripped, denim jeans. If you couldn’t see all of his tattoos and his eyebrow slit, you’d assume he was just an average boy who didn’t casually carry a knife on him.

“Why are we getting coffee?” You questioned, following him out of the apartment building and to his car. The sun was starting to set, leaving a golden and amber hue of light on the metal of his car.

“Because. Get in.” He nodded towards the car, unlocking it and climbing into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger’s seat and put your belt on, sighing as you relaxed into the comfortable seats of the Mercedes. The car roared to life, the car rumbling as he revved the engine. It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the nearest drive through Starbucks. “What do you want?” He turned to look at you, his arm resting on the door of the car with only one of his hands on the steering wheel. He looked hot; you couldn’t deny that. But you refused to let him know that, so you kept up the not bothered attitude.

“Surprise me.” You shrugged, picking at a loose thread on your mom jeans. He ordered for you both, which you didn’t pay attention to as you completely zoned out, subtly rubbing your knuckles which ached a bit from striking Jeno’s strong jaw. He passed the cup holder to you and drove out of the car park. You didn’t bother asking where he was taking you, not really caring as you stared out of the window. The scenery slowly changed from the visual of the city, to dense trees as he drove out towards the outskirts of the city. It was getting darker out, and small drops of rain hit the windscreen as he sped through the country lanes, eventually pulling onto a dirt track and stopping in a small clearing which was used as a small car park for dog walkers.

He turned off the engine, taking off his seatbelt and turning his body to angle slightly towards you. He took one of the cups from the holder and sipped it, keeping his eyes on you. You picked up the remaining cup, glancing over at him as you timidly sipped from the cup.

“Hot chocolate?” You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of liquid as it slid down your throat.

“Do you like it?” He raised an eyebrow, sipping his own drink again.

“Mhm…so…why am I here?”

“How do you know my name?” He got straight to the point, placing his cup in one of the cup holders and clearing his throat.

“We went to the same school.” You shrugged, also placing your drink in one of the cup holders.

“We did? I don’t remember you…” He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at your face to take in all of your details to see if his memory would be jogged.

“No, you wouldn’t remember me. I was quiet and kept to myself.” You awkwardly cleared your throat, not really wanting to speak about your school life with him. “How can you afford a car like this?” You wanted to change the subject, and you hoped using a topic such as cars would be a good distraction.

“Are you sure you want to know?” He smirked, moving a hand up to rub at his jaw. You watched his fingers as they caressed the soft looking skin of his face, your eyes trailing up to his piercing brown eyes that were almost covered by his sleek, black har. You nodded in confirmation, letting your eyes travel back down his jaw and to his neck. The inside of the car was lit up by a single light, but you could see every detail of the stunning young man sat in front of you. “I sell drugs.” He said it as if it was nothing. He wasn’t ashamed of his job title, but he knew if the wrong person knew about what he did to make money, then it would cause a problem.

“Oooooh dangerous man.” You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“I can be dangerous if you get on the wrong side of me, but luckily for you,” His gaze moved from your face to your chest, slowly travelling back to your eyes. “you excite me.”

“How?” You felt your heart flutter, unsure of how he was having such an effect on you, but you pinned it down to just finding him overly attractive and probably needing a good fuck.

“No girl has ever spoke to me the way you have, and I want nothing more than to put you in your place.” His voice seemed to deepen, and his hand landed on your thigh. You glanced down to his hand and then back to his face.

“Put me in my place?” You smirked, glancing up at the ceiling before letting out a sultry laugh. He watched you with a hard stare, his hand gripping your thigh tighter as it slowly travelled higher up your thigh towards your core. “How?”

“I’ll fuck you so hard and so good, you’ll be screaming my name so loud that you won’t have a voice left to backchat me.” He leaned in, pressing a very soft kiss to your jawline that you hardly felt it. His breath was warm against your skin made a tickling sensation ripple down your spine.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to play it cool, but your voice wavered, and your hands started to shake.

“Mmm.” His other hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your head back to give him better access to run his lips over your neck. “I’m going to take you on the backseat of the car I bought with drug money, your tight little pussy is going to be so wet but if you make any mess on my leather seats, I’m going to make you regret it baby girl.” Your hold on your dignity and tough façade slipped as you let out a gentle whimper, his words making your puss throb in need. “Call me Haechan.” He didn’t want you to moan the name you knew him by, feeling as if it would ruin the mood for him.

“Put me in my place…Haechan.” He moved his lips to yours, mashing them against yours in a hot, filthy kiss that was full of tongue and passion. You tried your hardest to win the battle, but ultimately, he won, his tongue infiltrating your mouth as his lips moved in perfect time with your own. He sat back in his seat, grabbing you by the hips and dragging you over to sit on his lap. You ground down against his crotch, moving your lips to his neck where his tattoo was. He smirked, his cock getting harder the more pressure you put on it.

“Do you like my tattoo baby girl?” He moaned, his eyelids drooping as he basked in the pleasure you were bestowing upon him. You nodded, nipping at his skin as you circled your hips. “Fuck, get in the back. Now.” He commanded, giving your ass a squeeze. You scrambled into the back, nearly kicking him in the face as you tried to squish yourself through the small gap between the front seats. He used the doors as his way of getting into the back, shutting the backdoor as he slid into the back. You smirked at him, sat facing him with your legs open.

“You gonna put me in my place now?” You raised an eyebrow, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. He growled lowly in his throat, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him so that your body slid down onto the backseats. He pushed your hoodie up, happy to find that you didn’t have a t-shirt on underneath, and he had easy access to your bra. He leaned over you, placing kisses across your breast and nipping at them as he pushed your bra up. Taking one of your nipples into his mouth, he tugged it with his teeth before giving it a long, hard suck. Your mouth fell slack, a euphoria of feelings starting to blossom inside of your stomach as you watched his pouty lips work at your nipple. He used his thumb and finger to play with your other nipple, making sure it got just as much attention as the one in between his wet lips. With a pop, he let go of your nipple, trailing his tongue down your abdomen, leaving a wet trail of saliva as he reached your jeans. He made light work of taking off your jeans, tossing them onto the front seat so they weren’t in his way. He was happy to see that there was a damp spot on your silky white panties. Your wetness making the fabric stick to your pussy as he pulled them down your legs. He slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk.

You started to feel really hot, despite the chill outside of the car. The windows fogged up, and you regretted wearing a hoodie as it was now pushed up underneath your chin. Haechan must have gotten hot too, as he pulled the jumper from his body and discarded of it in the same place that your jeans were. Your eyes were glued on his chest, noticing a tattoo of bird wings that stretched across his entire chest and met in the middle, where a heart was. It wasn’t the design of an actual heart, but more of the commonly known sign for a heart with the heart being the only coloured part of the tattoo. Attached to the heart, was a snake’s head biting into the heart with its fangs. It was then you let your eyes follow the snake’s body, which wrapped around one of the wings before descending down his arm, the tail ending just above his wrist. You also noticed that on his right arm he had an entire sleeve of tattoos, all of them blending perfectly together, some coloured, some black. You whimpered at the sight, too focused on the artwork on his body to notice that his mouth was hovering over your dripping cunt. He was staring at up you, waiting for your eyes to find his own as he watched them scale over his torso. He smirked as you looked at his face once more, his tongue dragging from your clenching hole to your sensitive clit, his hot breath making a chill rush through you.

“Wait!” He pulled away suddenly and looked down at you with cautious eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Erm…have you got anything on you?” You timidly asked, biting your bottom lip in anticipation at his answer.

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head in curiosity.

“…Drugs.” Your voice wavered, nervous to his reaction to you asking him for drugs.

“Oh. Yeah, but I’ve only got one type I think.” He reached forward into the front of the car, opening the glove compartment on the dash and pulling out a sunglasses case. He also grabbed a little silver packet and sat back against the backdoor. You watched as he opened the glasses case, pulling out a little bag of pills.

“Ecstasy?” You asked, but you already knew the answer. He gave you a curt nod and spoke with a low tone.

“You done this before?” He raised the eyebrow that had a slit in it at you. You nodded eagerly and gulped, not willing to tell him the story about your drug use that you kept hidden in a deep place within you. He felt slightly hesitant about giving you the drug but pulled one of the pink pills that were shaped like a teddy bear out of the tiny packet. “Open.” You opened your mouth and held out your tongue slightly, watching with keen eyes as he popped the pill on his own tongue and leaned forward, pushing his tongue against your own and successfully transferring the pill into your mouth. You swallow the pill without any hesitancy or regret and laid back against the seat as he put the glasses case with the pills back into glove compartment. He got back into position and started to lap at your still oozing cunt.

“Fuck! Haechan!” You squealed, parting your legs further and resting one of your feet on the headrest of the backseat, the other rising up so that your knee was pressed to your chest. It was cramped in the back of his car, but you were thankful, as he had no choice but to be as close to you as he possibly could be. He swirled his tongue around your folds, spreading your essence with his sinful tongue. His pouty lips wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly causing your hips to buck. The taste of your wetness almost had his eyes rolling into the back of his head. And if it were up to him, he’d happily eat your cunt all night. But eventually, after twenty minutes of eating you out like he was eating his last meal on death row, his twitching cock in his pants had other ideas and sent him a little reminder that he wanted to bury himself so deep inside of your warmth that he could see his cock poking through your stomach. So he reluctantly pulled his messy fingers from your velvety walls and let your clit go from between his lips. Your legs were shaking from the orgasm he’d given you, and you knew he was stalling to give the drug you’d taken time to kick in.

He sat back, unzipping his jeans and pulling his member out. He let out a soft moan as he wrapped his hand around it, giving it a firm pump as pre-cum leaked from the tip. He ripped the silver packet and took out the condom, rolling it onto his cock and pressing the head against your opening. He looked into your eyes and noticed that your pupils had double in size, and your eyes were slightly wider as you stared up at the ceiling of his car, a big smile plastered on your face.

“You good baby?” He tapped your leg to gain your attention back on his face. You raised your head and blinked rapidly at him, nodding your head in confirmation and letting out a giddy laugh. You felt happiness hit you, and you felt like you wanted to give Haechan a big kiss and cling onto him out of gratitude for the orgasm he’d blessed you with. He chuckled at you and rolled his eyes; just glad you were seemingly enjoying yourself. Without any warning, he slid his cock inside of you, a deep moan vibrating from his chest as your silky walls sucked him in perfectly. Your arms went limp and they laid either side of your head uselessly.

“Shit.” You gasped, letting your head fall back and knock on the door of the car. “Ow.” You mumbled, momentarily squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the pain rumble around your head before it subsided. Haechan didn’t wait for you to adjust, he just started to thrust into you as hard and as fast as he could. You kept your eyes pinned on his arm, swearing you could see the snake tattoo on his arm move its tail, looking like it was constricting his arm. His lips found purchase on your neck, and he bit at it hard, sucking a dark bruise onto your sweaty skin before licking at the salty skin, finding you more addicting than any drug he could possibly take. He varied between fast thrusts and slow thrusts, stopping momentarily every thirty seconds or whenever you went suspiciously quiet just to check up on you.

You couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but the knot inside of your stomach tightened like the snake around Haechan’s arm until it snapped and you could see fireworks going off inside of the car as your orgasm rushed over you like a tsunami of cold water.

“Fuck baby.” He moaned, feeling how your walls pulsed around him. He leaned down and rested his forehead on your breasts, shutting his eyes with so much force that he saw stars behind his eyelids. High pitched whimpers, that had you wrapping your arms around him tight, left his parted, plump lips as his thrusts got sloppy. He came inside of the condom with one final moan, his eyes slowly opened as he rode out his orgasm, his hips slowly to a stop before he pulled out of you, reaching for some of the Starbucks napkins in the cupholder to use for the clean-up. He tucked his cock away after throwing the condom out of the car.

“It’s bad to litter.” You commented, sitting yourself up and feeling like you didn’t have much control over your jaw as it swayed.

“Shh.” He hushed you and dressed you, both of you sitting in the back of his car the way the car manufacturer had intended people to actually use the backseat of a car. He had his arm around you and let out a soft laugh. He still hadn’t put his jumper on, but he had cracked open one of the windows an inch to let some of the cold night air in. You cuddled up against his shoulder, feeling a strange loved up sensation that made you want to never let go of him. He didn’t mind, he knew it was one of the side effects of the drug he’d supplied you with. He also loved cuddles, not that ever let anyone know that or admit it if someone accused him of it.

“Mum…” You read out loud, causing him to look down at you with a confused frown.

“Huh?”

“Your tattoo. It’s a sunflower and it says mum on the stem.” You pointed out, not really sure why you were letting your mouth run when it didn’t really need to be spoken about. But the beautiful sunflower tattoo he had on the inside of his arm next to the snake tail had your heart spitting in wonder. In very tiny letters, the word mum was written in Korean characters. “Ha…mummy’s boy.” You sniggered. He rolled his eyes and pulled away from you, pulling on his jumper awkwardly.

“I ain’t no mummy’s boy.” He climbed through to the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. “I’m taking you home.” You rushed to climb through to the passenger’s seat, wanting to be beside him for the journey. “How bad are your come downs?” He glanced at you as he started to drive. You picked up your now cold hot chocolate and sipped at it, shrugging and humming.

“Not bad.” You lied, not wanting to tell him the truth. You didn’t want him to know that side of you. He wasn’t your friend, nor was he your boyfriend. And you sure as hell weren’t his responsibility. He was simply someone you knew from school who you fucked in the middle of nowhere. This thought had your heart aching, and you felt the start of your come down taking full effect. He gave you a small nod and drove the rest of the way in silence.

When he stopped outside of your apartment building, he turned his head to you, giving you a smirk. “We should do this again, no strings attached though.”

“Okay. No strings attached.” You agreed. If there were no strings attached, then there was nothing that could snap and hurt you. Right?

You exchanged numbers and climbed out of his car into the cold night, feeling a horrible surge of nausea rush over you. But you couldn’t tell if it was the ecstasy, or your new drug, Haechan.

 ---

I haven’t proof read this yet so sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes! Let me know what you think! Haechan has been the most anticipated member for this series so I’m really excited to know what you think of the plot so far! Let me know! What do you think is going to happen in Part 2?)

[tweedracer]

Meeting the lost boys by knocking into one of their bikES 👀👌🏻

OP WHAT’S IT LIKE HAVING THE BIGGEST BRAIN IN THE WORLD (also this is my sECOND TIME WRITING THIS CAUSE MY COMPUTER CRASHED W/O SAVING SO SORRY IF IT’S GARBO)

LOST BOYS x S/O WHO RAN INTO THEIR BIKES

DAVID

Okay you already had one drink too many and fuck that was a cool looking bike. You were new to the area so people’s quiet comments of ‘that’s a bad idea’ went right over your head. You were just gonna look nobody can get pissed at you for looking.

Of course looking had turned to touching.

You ran your fingers across the smooth leather of the handles, admiring how well maintained it was despite clearly being frequently used.

“Can I help you?”

“FUCK HOLY SHI-“ you fell forwards at the voice that came from behind you, stumbling and watching as the bike fell in slow motion towards the ground.

You closed your eyes, wincing when you heard the SNAP! of the side view mirror as it landed, crumpled, beneath the vehicle.

The sound of a frustrated sigh made you turn slowly- and suddenly you felt a lot more sober as you looked up into the sharp blue eyes of a blonde man standing with his arms crossed and his gaze narrowed.

He looked ready to scream before you tossed your hands up- stumbling through your words as you offered to pay. You patted yourself down hurriedly desperate to find your wallet when it hit you.

Fuck you left it at your apartment.

Explaining the situation you offered to go get the money and bring it back to him, assuring you were good for your word.

“Forgive me sweetheart but I’m not exactly keen on trusting someone who just broke my mirror off”

You winced and nodded understandingly before inviting him to come along so he knew you wouldn’t bail and his eyebrows rose up.

Oh

He’d seen enough pornos to know exactly where this was headed ;)

Never opposed to a good time he agreed, following you in the short walk to your apartment with such confidence it was hard to tell who was leading who. He introduced himself as David as the two of you walked- actually starting a pretty good rapport despite the rocky introduction. 

As you finally made your way to the front of your apartment David straightened himself, stomach curling with anticipation as he readied himself for the coy little song and dance before you got to really repay him for the damages.

Confident, he took a step forwards before- THUD

He ran face first into your door. Reeling for a moment before he realized that you just closed the fucking door on him what the-

Before David could voice his confusions and frustration it swung open again, and there you were- standing before him with wallet in hand as you paged through some bills.

He glowered, upset that he had misread the cues of the situation and gave you an incredibly low-balled estimate. Frowning as you handed the cash over you wished him a goodnight and shut the door again.

Grumbling, it wasn’t until he was headed towards the stairwell to leave that he heard the sound of the creaky wood opening up.

You poked your head out, flushed and grinning before asking if he was free for dinner tomorrow night with a smug smile.

You little tease

PAUL

This was a stupid idea. You knew this was a stupid idea- but you swore to god if your friends teased you one more time for skipping on this bet you were going to lose it.

It was simple. Sit on one one of Santa Carla’s resident bad boys’ bikes and live to tell the tale and they pay your rent for a month. Easy... peasy...

You glanced over your shoulder, already feeling sweat start to form on your brow as you watched your friends gathered around the railing of the boardwalk- giving you thumbs up and egging you on.

Taking a deep breath you snuck across the beach side- having checked one, two, three times that none of those wannabe-gangsters were coming before finally sidling up to the line.

You picked one at random, taking a moment as you tried to figure out how to get up and into the seat without jostling it. Finally, you managed to straddle the seat, you were surprised just how soft the cushion felt against your legs as you looked across the beach at your companions.

They were waving their hands and mouthing something frantically- you squinted, leaning forwards and trying to get a better idea of what they were trying to tell you.

“I think they’re tryna warn you about me, doll”

“FUCK!”

You scrambled to get off the bike, stumbling and falling face-first into the sand. With all the blood rushing to your ears you couldn’t hear the stranger’s laughter as the bike tipped over, the air getting pushed out of your lungs as it landed across your back.

The stranger, a tall blonde guy decked out in full leather and studs, was doubled over with laughter- grabbing his stomach as tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he watched you flail uselessly underneath the motorcycle.

“Dude you look like a squashed roach” he choked, managing to get a hold of himself- his laughter tapering off into tiny giggles, leaning his hands on his knees to look down at you with a wild grin.

Finally, he deigned to help, using one hand to lift the bike up like it weighed nothing. Once freed you groaned, back aching from where you would no doubt be sporting a gnarly bruise tomorrow.

Before you got the chance to get up you felt two strong arms wrap around you, lifting you into the air with a dramatic twirl- your hands flying to his shoulders on instinct.

The biker held you up for a moment “If you wanted a ride all you had to do was ask, gorgeous”

Red all the way to your ears you mumbled a small thank you as he gently set you on wobbly knees, keeping a wide-palmed hand on your hip to steady you.

“I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth but if you’d like to explain what you were doing straddling my bike I’m all ears.” he purred, hand giving you a flirtatious squeeze as you recounted the bet- nodding to your group of friends who were frozen like deer in the headlights.

The stranger, Paul, made a humming noise in the back of his throat as he thought over your excuse before leaning in close to your ear.

“Well we can’t let them win then, can we, doll?” and with that he let go to swing a long leg over his bike, offering you a calloused hand and a wink.

Okay... maybe this was a good bet after all.

DWAYNE

It was late, you were exhausted, and your feet ached from standing up all afternoon and evening at your closing shift of Stoker’s Diner. Still dressed in your uniform you stumbled, yawning as you picked your way across the boardwalk.

Your eyes kept drifting closed- the moments between when you were awake and practically sleepwalking getting longer and longer as you followed the familiar route.

When you opened your eyes and you were staring up at the distant white light of stars you realize oh shit when did I fall.

Then you realized the sharp stabbing pain in your leg, hissing as you curled up, abs tensing as you saw the heavy bike on top of your shin. “Fuckin’ shit” you growled, grabbing your thigh in an attempt to pull yourself free.

The sudden weight was lifted and you looked up at broad shoulders and dark hair that framed a handsome face. You must have died, because this face was that of an angel’s.

“Am I dead?” you asked groggily, sleep-addled brain making your tongue a little looser as the stranger smiled. He held out his hand to you politely, waiting with a raised brow.

Your hand felt tiny in his as he gently lifted you onto your legs only for you to teeter over precariously at the sharp pain in your knee. Glancing down you saw bloody torn skin and a purple bruise beginning to bloom across your shin.

The man’s shoulders tensed slightly at the sight of a droplet blood trailing its way down your leg. Exhausted, you let yourself be manhandled into the seat.

“Here” his voice was a low rumble that made even your tired mind spark up eagerly.

God he was hot.

The biker lifted you up like a sack of feathers, setting you in the seat of the bike so your legs dangled above the ground. The man kneeled down, reaching into his pocket and rifling around in it for a few seconds before pulling out a band aid.

You stuttered out a thank you, feeling you face heat up as he glanced up at you from beneath thick lashes- a pleasant smile gracing his herculean features.

“You should be careful.” he spoke, fastening the adhesive to it with a gentle pat. You coughed shyly, unable to make eye contact as you quietly explained that you had a long shift and you were opening tomorrow again while your fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

The stranger listened silently, eyes soft as he focused- occasionally nodding his understanding. His hand was still on the back of you calf- fingers cold and sending goosebumps all the way up your spine.

When you finally finished he stood, looming over you as he introduced himself as Dwayne before hesitating- thinking something over..

“If you want... I can drive you home... probably safer than sleepwalking off the boardwalk again”

MARKO

When you told that guy to back off from your friend you did not think it would end with you running at top speed through the crowds of the boardwalk. The guy’s yelling seemed to get closer and closer as you jumped over a table- switching directions suddenly in an attempt to throw him off.

Your eyes darted around as you searched for a way out- landing on the railing off the edge of the boardwalk that led to the beach side parking. If you played your cards right you might be able to hitch a ride or at the very least lose him by hiding.

With a fell swoop you tossed your legs over the edge, falling a few stomach-churning feet before you touched the ground, skinning your knees as you took off again. Your assailant cursed, running down the stairs and getting left further behind.

Looking over your shoulder to track his progress you didn’t see the motorcycle in front of you.

In fact

You didn’t see the line of motorcycles in front of you.

And you sure as hell didn’t see the blonde boy decked out in a leather jacket milling about.

It wasn’t until you laid, cheek pressed against his chest and bike flat beneath your shins that you even realized what your collision was with. Gloved hands gripped your hips tightly and the two of you stared, confused at each other before you heard the footsteps getting closer.

“Shit shit shit- CAN YOU DRIVE THIS THING?” you were already sitting up, straddling his hips for a moment before pulling him to his feet.

He only stared, lips slightly parted and brown eyes wide before he nodded numbly- gaze unable to leave your face as you turned to see your attacker get close.

“HURRY-”

That seemed to kick him into gear as he glanced over your shoulder at the drunken surfer gaining ground towards the two of you. In a fluid motion he lifted the bike up and turned it on, the revving engine drowning out the chaos around you.

Without waiting for an invite you hopped on, gripping tight to his jacket as he peeled away from the line of the other bikes and taking off at a breakneck speed.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the wind whipped your hair around you- heart still pounding in your chest from adrenaline as you pressed your face into the stranger’s back with a sigh of blessed relief. 

Long after the danger was far behind the two of you were still speeding along- running others out of your path and sidling closer towards the shore.

Your eyes closed and you relaxed a little bit, hands loosening their grip where it had been balled up in his jacket. His shoulders tensed and he leaned forwards, the motorcycle suddenly speeding up so fast there were tears in your eyes.

With an excited laugh that was whipped away by the wind you flung your arms around his chest, squeezing tight- his pleased smile and small blush invisible to you as he veered a sharp turn to make you hold onto him closer.

After what could’ve been hours or minutes of heart pounding excitement, the blonde boy finally slowed- eventually stopping the bike and parking it far away from the loud boardwalk.

His hair was a mess and the apples of his cheeks were pink with adrenaline and you got a good look at his face properly this time.

Oh he was cute.

He smiled, looking almost bashful

“I’m Marko, and uh- I had fun being your getaway driver.”

[harringrovetrashrat]

The discord (specifically @warheadache) got me thinking about a Grease AU and...well...

Steve gets broken up with at the end of the year.  Nancy is just not in love with him the way she thought.  So he goes with his parents for a full summer away, a full summer in California.  And he meets the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.  And it’s summer.  It’s California.  And this boy is licking his lips at him, is flirting and he just--

He has the best summer he’s ever had.

And when they part ways Billy kisses Steve so fiercely it’s like he’s fallen in love, too.  But they have to part ways, even if it break their hearts to do it.

When Billy gets news that he’s moving to bumfuck nowhere, he’s pissed.  Because how can his Bambi come back and find him now?

The first person he meets is this greaser boy, Tommy.  Sees him smoking and asks to bum one.  Tommy immediately knows he’s never seen him before, clocks the leather jacket and tight pants, and introduces himself.  And he’s small town, but he’s fun, he pushes a nerd around and makes Billy laugh, so he’s good for now.  He does keep talking about a Stevie, probably his girlfriend, and a Carol, maybe his other girlfriend, but Billy won’t judge.  Can’t, yanno.

And Steve and Carol are busy most of the day, so they somehow don’t cross paths until after school, until the pep rally, when Carol runs over and plants one on Tommy.

“This must be Carol,” Billy says, giving her a wink.  She waggles her brows before turning and yelling,

“Stevie!  Over here!  Fresh meat!” Billy turns and… Fuck.  There’s his Bambi.

And Steve is so excited when he sees Billy, even if he’s fucking nervous because Billy understood him in a way none of his partners had before. But Billy...

The beautiful boy he thought he’d never see again, who had wanted more than a quick handy under the pier, who had broken down some of Billy’s walls in a single summer, is here?  In front of him?  And he panics.  Teases Steve, and he’s honestly kinda mean, and Steve just, doesn’t get it.  Tommy thinks it’s all in good fun, tells Steve that “Billy’s just like that” and Steve stares Billy down, hurt when he answers, “Never woulda guessed.”

Cue Steve spending more time with Carol and Heather, making Tommy jealous and a little sad, and Billy just kinda swallows his regret.  Let’s Steve keep his distance.  Keeps teasing and teasing because he’s never been good with feelings.

Steve is sitting by his pool after leaving a hang out, thinking about how different Billy is now that he’s here, and Billy arrives. Followed him because it’s almost December and he can’t take it.  He can’t be here, be near Steve, without getting to have him, even just a little bit.  So he’s standing on the opposite side and Steve ignores him because he’s tired of getting his heart broken, yanno?

But Billy sits, using a stick to make the water move and he says,

“I’m sorry.” Which doesn’t mean much but Steve shrugs in acceptance.

“Whatever.”

“No, I—“ Billy struggles with the words because this boy... “I’m sorry for... for everything.”

“Everything starting this summer or everything starting from the pep rally.”

“I could never be sorry for this summer.” And Steve looks up at that, a little shocked.

Billy isn’t looking, too vulnerable, but he keeps going.

“You— I’ve never—“ A frustrated groan.  He can’t find the words so he gets up, goes to leave, and as he walks away, he hears Steve say,

“I forgive you.” And Billy wants to stay, but he’s got a curfew and he’s still so scared.  Because there’s no way Steve could still love him the way he did.  Even if he does forgive him.

After the pool, Steve and Billy kinda call a truce.  They won’t bring up the summer, but they will act like it didn’t happen.  Like they just finally stopped butting heads.  Tommy loves it.  Because now Steve will hang out with them instead of the girls, right?  And Steve does, helps Tommy and Billy fix up Tommy’s car, even if it’s just controlling the radio while the other two work, rolling joints for their breaks.  But there’s a weird distance between Billy and Steve that Tommy just can’t seem to get rid of, and it irks him.  He keeps his feelings under wraps, but like, he doesn’t wanna lose Steve just for Billy.  No offense to Billy, he’s great in Tommy’s opinion, but Steve is his BFF.

And Billy and Steve, WHOOO BOY, these boys are staring at each other any time they can.  Billy watches as Steve laughs, chucking fries at Tommy while Tommy shoots spitballs at him from across the table.  Like, how can Steve be so beautiful while he’s got spitty paper stuck to the side of his face?  Billy doesn’t know but he’s weak for it.

And Steve is literally so grateful that Tommy spends most of his time under the car so he can’t see how Steve has to keep shifting as Billy bends over the front of the car, messing with the engine.  Like, Steve has had so many inopportune boners it’s getting ridiculous.  Cuz Billy wears his pants so tight and hates wearing sleeves, or keeps them rolled up so he can tuck his cig pack in the fold, and like, Steve is just supposed to look and not wanna jump him? Rude.

And things are decently chill, right?  And then prom.

It’s their last one and Steve decides to ask someone to go with him.  I’m wondering if maybe it’s Heather, who will agree because Robin maybe can’t go, or she needs a cover.  And like, they aren’t together, Billy has made that bed himself, but he doesn’t wanna fucking lay in it.  He doesn’t wanna watch Steve get all cuddly with a girl all night, cuz of course he’s gonna go stag.  And he thought maybe Steve would go stag too and they could ditch together and go to the park or drive in or something, and Billy could finally maybe make a move (he’d deny planning this shit out and daydreaming about it even tho he 100% did).  But no.  Steve wants the full experience and apparently he can’t get that with *illy.

And maybe Steve was trying to make Billy a little jealous.  See if he would be jealous.  And maybe Steve was thinking that since Heather and Robin are so obviously in love (somehow he’s the only one who notices (besides maybe Carol)) that he could get his dinner and photos for his folks before ditching to spend the night with Billy.  But since Billy decided that he’d rather spend the night talking with fucking Stacey Connors instead, Steve watches from across the room, sad and angry and wanting.

Heather takes him out to the back, because if she’s gonna sit with a moping Steve all night she’d prefer to have a little schnapps or some devil’s lettuce to get thru, yanno?  And Steve goes to lay down his jacket, but Heather just plops onto the dirty ground outside the back of the gym, because,

“This dress is ugly and I need weed more than I need to go back in there.” And Steve laughs, sits next to her, because Heather is actually really fun and nice and Steve wished he hung out with her more--

And the back door bursts open as Billy spills out, freezing in his tracks when he sees them sitting, passing a joint back and forth.  He gets a little embarrassed cuz he was definitely planning on breaking up a makeout sesh, not catching Steve laughing at Heather’s spot on impression of their principal.

“Hey Billy!” Because Heather cannot for the life of her read the tension between the boys.  She pats Steve’s knee, handing him the joint as she gets up.  Billy helps her on instinct and she pecks his cheek, giving it a pat.  “I’m gonna go see if they restocked the snack table.  You boys want anything?” Steve asks for some chips and Billy shakes his head.  Heather winks at Billy, all, “Take care of him while I’m gone.”

And then they’re alone.  So Billy sits next to Steve, who hands him the joint.  And things are a little tense, a little stiff, but finally Steve breaks the silence.

“Where’s Stacey?” Billy shrugs.

“Dunno.  Dancing, I think?”

“Really?” Steve snorts.  “You don’t know where your date is?” Cuz he’s bitter and not above giving some jabs because he thought maybe Billy was gonna be ready.  Would have understood.  Billy shrugs again.

“She wanted to dance with Kyle more.” And well, that wasn’t entirely true, but Kyle definitely wanted to dance with her more than Billy ever would.  So he’d slyly made sure that Stacey would have someone to cry to when he inevitably dropped her the moment he could get Steve alone.  “You and Heather having a good time?” And it comes out more petulant and annoyed than Billy meant for it to and Steve shakes his head, putting out the joint and pulling out his flask, handing it to Billy.

“She’d be having more fun with Robin, but yanno.  She’s nice.  Fun.” And Billy blinks, flask still pressed against his lips.

“Huh?”

“Robin,” Steve says, like it’s obvious.

“I mean, I guess, they are best friends--”

“They’re dating,” Steve says, realizing that Billy didn’t know.  And they lock eyes and something surges and--

“I got a bunch of different kinds of chips!” Heather showers them with small bags, making them laugh, and the three of them finish prom together before they take Heather to Robin’s.

Suddenly Steve and Billy are close again, and Tommy doesn’t know what’s happening when he’s not around, but these two keep going from hot to cold over and over and it’s infuriating.

And there’s a rival gang, led by Adam, who keep teasing Tommy, because Steve seems above it all (and Adam has a one-sided crush, is maybe pissed Tommy gets to be Steve’s bff instead of him), and Tommy finally bursts all,

“You’ve been so preoccupied with yourself you didn’t even notice these guys have been pulling shit all year!” And he and Steve get in a tiny fight, but it’s quickly resolved and Steve wants to tell Tommy what’s going on but he can’t, so he just admits he was distracted.  Hadn’t been giving as much as he got from Tommy.

And when it comes to the race, over turf is what it comes down to, because both of them want the Quarry as theirs, Tommy is ready to go.  But Steve is worried for him, so he does the thing of knocking Tommy out on accident, trying to just get him to let it go, but he won’t, keeps trying to get in the car even with a possible concussion--

So Billy does it.  Fucking wins.  No doubt.  And Steve can’t help himself.  Cuz it was hot and Billy is smiling and Tommy is happy and Steve has everyone he cares about close and there and--

And he kisses Billy.  Too wrapped up.

And everything stops.

The other gang had left, thank god, but Tommy is quiet.  Billy is stunned.  Carol thinks she shoulda seen this coming.  So Steve books it.  Fucking hides.  Avoids Tommy and Billy and everyone, sitting with Nancy and Jonathan to their surprise.

Billy is, well, he’s happy, but scared.  And Tommy suddenly realizes why Steve was so weird around Billy.  Realizes that Billy probably likes him back, too.  And he feels like shit because neither of them felt comfortable enough to tell him.  But Carol pumps him up and they make a plan.

And it’s the end of the year festival.  Everyone is there.  Tommy tells Billy to meet him by the ferris wheel and Robin tells Steve to meet her by the ferris wheel.  That she and Heather understood and wanted to talk to him.  And Tommy forces Steve and Billy into a ferris wheel cart with him, Robin along as help since Tommy doesn’t understand everything.  Tells a shaking Steve that they’re best friends and nothing would change that.  Tells Billy that he better take care of Steve, but that he’s got their backs because they always have his.

They all get off the ferris wheel, Heather and Carol waiting for them, and they are all together again, the D-Dogs and Pink Ladies.  They ditch the festival, choosing instead to go to the Quarry and celebrate there together.  And everyone in their pairs, Tommy and Carol cuddling on the hood of the car, Robin and Heather dancing to the radio as they watch and Billy and Steve?

They stand together at the ledge, holding hands, kissing, finally, to the sounds of their friends, happy behind them.  Ready for another beautiful summer.  One that won’t end.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Just the Same

Summary:

“You’re sick.”

“You’re ugly.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling well?”

“I’m fine.” Jason closes his eyes. “Just a little tired.”

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you have a fever?”

Read it here on AO3!

Bruce has a very simple plan for tonight, alright? He’s going to grab a quick post-patrol snack from the kitchen, then he’s going to take a shower, and then he will go promptly to bed. He’s tired. It’s been a long day. He just wants to sleep. (You absolute fool, the goblin in his brain screeches at him, because the goddamn Batman cannot get a goddamn break or else the world will literally split in two.) Fatefully, Bruce passes the den’s open doorway while half of his mind is preoccupied with sending Dick a goodnight text, and he happens to glance into the room. That’s when he stops in his tracks. Even more fatefully, Alfred is coming down the hall in Bruce’s direction, carrying a tray with a single cup of tea on it. “Alfred?” “Yes, Master Bruce?” “Were you aware that Jason was home?” Alfred looks over at where Jason is asleep on the den sofa, still in his leather jacket and boots. He doesn’t look remotely surprised by the sight. Then again, is Alfred ever surprised? “Master Jason got in while you were on patrol. I offered to make him dinner, but he said he wasn’t hungry.” Then there’s that classic Alfred Pennyworth eyebrow crease. “When he wakes up, do inform him that one does not forgo the need for nutrition when one has been dipped in a Lazarus Pit.” “I’ll be sure to do that.” “Now, if you will excuse me.” Alfred walks off with his perfectly level tray, on a perilous journey to Damian’s room. Bruce envies him. At least Alfred gets to go to sleep after Damian gets his nighttime tea. Bruce enters the den carefully, without a sound. God knows Jason hardly sleeps through the night without interruption as it is. Now, at least, he looks peaceful enough. So much time has passed since his last haircut that his hair curls against his temple, plastered with sweat. He must have come here straight from Red Hood business. At least he didn’t get blood on the couch this time. Quietly, Bruce pulls the knitted throw blanket from where it’s draped over the back of the sofa and lays it over Jason, tucking it in close when he catches a shiver rattling Jason’s teeth. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Jason’s cheeks are flushed as well. His mouth is locked in a grimace, even in sleep. Bruce presses the back of his hand against Jason’s forehead and clicks his tongue. Definitely a fever. Jason’s eyebrows wrinkle at the touch. His eyes crack open and take a moment to land on Bruce, sitting on the edge of the couch by Jason’s torso. It says a lot that he doesn’t go into battle mode as soon as he registers an unfamiliar presence in the room. “Mmph. Go away.” “You’re sick.” “You’re ugly.” “Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling well?” “I’m fine.” Jason closes his eyes. “Just a little tired.” “Uh-huh. And that’s why you have a fever?” “Why don’t you mind your fucking—” Jason tumbles into a coughing fit, wet and hacking. “I’ll be right back,” Bruce tells him with a parting pat on the knee. His knees creak as he stands, heading for the bathroom down the hall. He digs through the medicine cabinet until he finds the thermometer, one of many that Alfred keeps in every bathroom in the house. He grabs a bottle of Tylenol as well. Bruce goes back to the couch and reclaims his spot next to Jason, who has stopped coughing by now, but his breathing is heavy. Bruce touches the thermometer to Jason’s temple, ignoring his weak swats. It reads out a hundred and one degrees. “When did you start feeling sick?” Jason grunts and rolls onto his side, curling in on himself. “Dunno. Yesterday, I guess.” Bruce frowns. Of course Jason would ignore any achy feelings for as long as possible. None of Bruce’s kids have a single self-preserving bone in their bodies. “Tell me your symptoms.” “Being a fucking snack.” “Jason.” Jason coughs. “Leave me alone, old man.” “Does your throat hurt?” “Yeah, so quit trying to make me talk.” “Any nausea?” Jason buries his face into a throw pillow. “You’re fuckin’ exhausting, you know that?” He sighs. “Not since last night. I’m freezing, lethargic, and my head is killing me. Happy?” Bruce hums. “It’s probably the flu.” “Yeah, no shit.” Jason closes his eyes. “Now will you leave me alone? You’re making my headache worse.” Bruce twists open the Tylenol cap and shakes out a couple of tablets into his palm. “Here.” He holds them out to Jason. Jason opens one eye, looks at the pills, and closes it again. “No.” “Jason—” “No. Don’t like pills.” Bruce can’t say he didn’t expect as much. Still, it does Jason no favors to continuously refuse any sort of medication, choosing to tough out the pain for as long as he can. It all ties back to his mother’s drug addiction, a disease which Jason watched slowly kill her over years and years. It makes sense that he’d grow up with an unwavering aversion to drugs. When Jason was a small tot, Bruce and Alfred spent what probably accumulated to hours of cajoling, trying to talk Jason into taking even the lightest painkillers. Lidocaine and numbing solutions were fine, but anything resembling a narcotic was out—and still is, apparently. It makes Bruce wonder how Jason reacted to the Lazarus Pit and its euphoria-inducing waters—part of the whole “magical healing” process. Maybe he was too out of his mind at the time to form a solid thought, much less remember his childhood trauma. This is one fight Bruce chooses not to get into, so he recaps the Tylenol and sets it aside. Miraculously, Jason is already asleep again. That’s fine with Bruce; it’s better his son sleeps this flu off than wastes his energy arguing. Trying not to jostle him too much, Bruce takes off Jason’s boots and leaves them on the carpet. He grabs the TV remote and settles in on the couch with Jason’s feet in his lap, pulling up a nature documentary on hyenas that he and Damian haven’t had the chance to finish yet. Looks like he’ll be catching up on his sleep tomorrow night. Right now, Jason needs him (despite how fervently he’ll protest as much). Honestly, this whole situation brings Bruce back to the old days. After moving into the manor, it took over six months for Jason to completely recover from the years of malnutrition he suffered on the streets. His weight was far too low for a boy his age, even more scrawny than Tim. Alfred provided Jason with plenty of vitamin supplements and extra servings at dinner to bulk him up, but his immune system was shoddy at best no matter how much weight he gained. During his Robin era it was illness after illness, from the common cold to a whammying case of pneumonia. This is the first time Jason has been sick in Bruce’s presence since his death, though. Bruce is learning about the eating habits of hyenas when Tim comes in from the kitchen with a cup of peppermint tea, despite having supposedly gone to bed three hours ago. He stands there in the doorway for a moment, looks owlishly at Jason, then at Bruce, then back to Jason. He grins. “No,” Bruce says. “You don’t even know what I was going to do!” “I know you, and the answer is no.” “Jeez, Bruce. I’m not gonna kill him.” Tim attempts to cross his arms, forgetting that he’s holding hot tea, and hisses when it scalds his arm. “The hand-in-warm-water trick’s never hurt anyone,” he mutters. “Go back upstairs. You’ll get sick.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “This is prejudice against people without spleens, you know. I could sue your ass.” “Sue me from upstairs where I can comfortably know that you won’t die from the flu.” Tim rolls his eyes, but he goes. Bruce hears him stomp up the stairs, getting quieter and quieter until the footsteps are gone entirely. Bruce shakes his head. How did he ever think that having four boys would be a good idea? He questions his younger self’s judgement every day. For the next three hours, Jason sleeps in fits and starts. He never stays awake longer than five minutes at a time, drinking water when Bruce prods him to and grudgingly letting Bruce check his temperature for any spikes. Bruce learns quite a bit about hyenas in the meantime, until the documentary ends and a new one about sea otters begins. In between the hazy bouts of wakefulness, Jason tosses restlessly in the throes of nightmare after nightmare. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead. In the back of his mind Bruce wonders, is this just the fever talking or are nightmares a nightly villain for Jason? The latter would come as no shock, but that doesn’t mean he likes the idea. Bruce runs his fingers through Jason’s sweaty curls, a reflection of years ago when he would do the same thing any time Jason had a nightmare during his youth. Jason has been cheated out of peaceful nights from the beginning. Of course, back then there wasn’t a white streak splitting the darkness of his onyx hair—a reminder of the pit water swimming in Jason’s blood. Bruce moves a lock of hair off Jason’s forehead, gentle as a moth. Jason’s eyes fly open and he jerks away from the touch, a gasp ripping up his throat. Bruce doesn’t move. He gives Jason a moment to regain his bearings, stilling the hand in Jason’s hair. Green irises lock on Bruce, frenzied. “Where?” he croaks. “The manor.” Jason takes a deep breath in, clenching his jaw. “Okay.” He lets it out. “Okay.” Bruce grabs the water bottle he’s kept on the coffee table. “Here,” he says, moving his hand down to Jason’s back and prodding a shoulder blade. “Sit up.” “Fuck you.” It comes out half groan, the illness-wrought exhaustion catching back up with Jason. “You need to hydrate.” “Double fuck you.” Bruce shrugs. “Drink half of this or I’ll call Alfred and have him convince you. Your choice.” Jason rolls his eyes and snatches the bottle. Bruce will take that as a victory. Jason sits up with enormous effort, groaning at the aches in his body until he’s upright next to Bruce. He drinks the water, wincing when it hits his sore throat. “What were you dreaming about?” Bruce ventures to ask. Jason lowers the bottle to narrow his eyes at Bruce like he’s the biggest idiot in this room. “Shut up.” The annoying part is that Bruce genuinely has no idea what Jason’s nightmare could have been about. His childhood? His death? His resurrection? Any of the traumatic things that could have happened afterward, ones that Bruce wasn’t there for? There is such a disconnect between the two of them now. He should count it a blessing that they have moments like this, though Bruce would greatly prefer spending time with Jason while he isn’t sick and miserable. But Bruce will take it, nonetheless. Jason drains a sufficient amount of water, only to lurch forward in another coughing fit as soon as he gets in a breath. “Christ,” he rasps, eyes watering. “Just fucking shoot me already, will ya?” Bruce rubs his back. “I could tranq you, if you really think it would help. But I can’t guarantee that one of your brothers won’t take advantage of that and draw mustaches on your face while I’m not looking.” “Har, har. You’re a fucking comedian now.” Jason’s voice is coarse as gravel, scraping up his vocal cords. “Want some tea? It’ll help soothe your throat.” “Later. Just wanna...sleep for now.” In spite of everything he stands for, Jason tips his head to rest it on Bruce’s shoulder. Whether it was intentional or he’s just so disoriented from the fever that he has no idea he’s even doing it, Bruce won’t take the gesture for granted. Jason is shivering, so Bruce pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders where it slackened during his sleep. Then, in a riskier maneuver, he puts his arm around Jason and pulls him in close like he did so many times when Jason was a lot shorter and a lot less jagged around the edges. Bcuce still loves him just the same. Jason leans into Bruce’s warmth instinctively, but he warns, “Tell anyone about this and I’ll shatter your clavicle.” “Mm-hm.” “I mean it. You’ll need a goddamn orthopedic surgeon to fix you up if you breathe a word of this to anyone.” “I believe you.” It must be a good enough answer because Jason closes his eyes, relaxing in Bruce’s hold. “The only reason I’m gonna say this is ‘cause my brain is melting,” Jason says, “but...thanks. For being here.” He yawns. “Being sick alone fuckin’ sucks.” “I hear you.” “And keep Tim away from me, ‘kay? I don’t trust the little snot not to pull something.” Bruce snorts and unpauses the otter movie. “Go to sleep, Jay.”

[yikesharringrove]

drummer!billy fucks steve after robin drags him to billy’s band’s concert at the gay bar and he swears he hates the band until he sees billy... please :)

I’m so hot for drummers I became one. That’s TRUE.

This is some modern lovin’.

Also I have a friend in a vegan eco-punk folk band and they fucking suck.

Pansy Division is a real queercore band they are AMAZING super recommend they have a song called Fem in a Black Leather Jacket that I can SO see Billy singing to femme!Steve to be teasing one day.

Queer Bar is the name of a REAL BAR my friends and I (used to, thanks Miss Corona) go to to watch drag performers and queer punk bands.

Ayoo3

Porn Porn.

Steve didn’t go to a lot of concerts.

He didn’t do great in sweaty crowds, and the loud music would leave his ears ringing for days. But Robin would still drag him out to see her friends’ shitty bands play at shitty dive bars.

“You have to come. It’ll be fun. They’re actually, like good.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“That’s what you said about the last two bands, Rob. And they fucking sucked.”She had dragged him to some house show for her friend in a vegan eco-punk folk band which is apparently a thing that exists in this world, and they sucked. It was like someone screaming about global warming over a Bon Iver song. It made Steve want to actively go out and litter.

“What’s the genre?”

“Queercore. You can listen to them! They have an album on Spotify that’s done pretty okay. They’re called Pansy Division.” Steve gave her a cold look as he pulled them up. He listen to their three most popular songs, That’s So Gay was a pissed off track about people using the word gay as a derogatory. Fem in a Black Leather Jacket was self explanatory, and Luv Luv Luv was a more chilled out song, but the lyrics were all about how love isn’t real and “we’re all just animals at the core”. Steve was sold.

“Where are they playing.” Robin grinned at him.

“Queer Bar.” Steve groaned. Queer Bar was small. A divey place that got hot and sticky. Steve didn’t like going as he always left covered in spilled drinks, and other people’s sweat, and had hooked up with three of the bartenders and just didn’t really wanna deal with all that.

“I don’t know, Robin. You know I don’t like Queer Bar.”

“You like it just fine. You’re just a slut. You do realize that if we could only go to bars where you haven’t fucked one of the employees, we would have like, five bars to choose from.”

“Don’t slut shame me. I am a young flower, who must dance on the wind and take a dip in every pond.” Robin stared at him.

“Steve that makes no fucking sense. Just admit you’re a sloppy whore and let’s move on.”

“Fine. I’m a sloppy whore. So when is this terrible night scheduled?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Robin!”

“Dingus!”

“You couldn’t’ve given me some notice?”

“You’re getting like, thirty hours of notice right now.” She rolled her eyes. Steve always told her one of these days they were gonna fall right outta her head.

“You are a nightmare and the bane of my existence and I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you.” Steve deadpanned. She leaned over on the couch to smack a wet kiss to his cheek.

“And you should probably bring condoms. These guys are just your type.”

-

“So, that’s what you’re wearing?” Steve just glared at her.

“If you’re dragging me to this thing, I at least want to be comfortable.” He was wearing short denim cutoffs, ones she had cutoff for him. They were high-waisted, and he tucked a baggy Jane’s Addiction t-shirt he had stolen from his ex-boyfriend into them. He had just done a little eye shadow and smoked liner.

Robin was in a black body-con dress, her old brown leather jacket over her shoulder, but her arms were not in the sleeves. It was very fashiony of her. Steve tugged on a red bomber jacket.

They would be meeting Robin;s girlfriend, Heather, at the bar. Apparently she was friends with someone in the band.

“Let’s go, Dingus.” Robin was holding The front door to Steve’s apartment, swinging it between both hands. He pinched her side as he walked past.

They had to take a Lyft to Queer Bar, another reason it was the worst. It wasn’t in walking distance. Their driver was this quiet guy who wouldn’t stop staring at Robin, even when she loudly started talking about her girlfriend. Steve only gave him four stars, a serious deal for Steve, who would probably give five stars even if the driver fucking murdered him.

Steve had met Heather quite a few times, and he liked her. She was cute, and easy to talk to, and made Robin so happy, but she also kept talking about Billy and how he was going to come out with them later, and kept winking at Robin.

They traipsed into the bar, Steve ducking to avoid one of the bartenders he had slept with. The guy had been real clingy after and asked Steve to get breakfast while Steve was trying to get dressed and get outta there.

So, they’re in the club, and it’s about time for the band, well, it’s twenty minutes after time for the band, and Steve is tired and is nursing a vodka cranberry and has been hit on more than he wanted tonight.

But then the band is taking the stage, and Steve is ready to lose his mind at this perfect specimen taking his place behind the drums.

He had tattoos on nearly every inch of skin Steve could see, his arms, his legs, his neck. He was putting his long hair into a ponytail, a few curls escaping and settling around his face. He was laughing at something the bassist was saying to him, twirling his stick in one hand.

“Heather’s friends with the drummer. His name is Billy.” Robin was giving him a knowing look.

The band was pretty good. Played a lot of loud songs. People were slam dancing around the front, far from where Steve was standing, watching the drummer. He really fucking whacked the drums, broke about three sticks during the hour set. He was all sweaty. Would play with a big grin on his face, blue eyes crinkled, tongue between his face.

By the time they finished their set, Steve was sporting a half-chub in his shorts, was rearing to get fucked by this gorgeous drummer.

“What did you think!” Heather was beaming at him.

“Yeah, they’re okay.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“So, we’re just waiting for Billy, then we can get outta here.” Steve’s heart stopped. He had fucking forgotten they would be hanging out with this perfect Billy.

He came up behind Heather, picking her up from behind, laughing loud and beautiful.

“Stop, Billy! You smell like shit!” He rubbed his head onto her neck, making her slap at him. He released her, turning those eyes on Steve. He put out a hand.

“Billy Hargrove.” He took both of Steve��s hands in his, made him blush.

“Steve Harrington. I’m a friend of Robin’s.” Billy ran his tongue along his teeth, looking Steve up and down.

They ended up going to a club and getting hammered. Steve danced pressed against Billy, ended up laying on the bar while Billy led a few random guys in taking body shots off of Steve.  He ended up making out with Billy in a dark corner, hands roaming until

“My place is close by. You wanna get outta here?” Steve shivered as Billy rasped in his ear.

“Yeah, let’s go.” They found Robin, who slapped Steve on the ass as he left, tucked under Billy’s arm. They walked a few blocks to Billy’s place, a little apartment over a Thai restaurant. It was cozy, had posters all over the walls, and lots of plants. He had a fat little cat he introduced as my chonker, Diablo.

They made out on the couch for a while, but then Diablo started yowling at Billy, so Billy hefted Steve up, and tossed him on the bed, refilling the cat’s water. Steve wrestled out of his clothes as he could hear Billy cooing to his cat in the kitchen.

“Holy shit you’re hot.” Billy shut the door behind him, staring at Steve, spread out and naked on his bed. “Heather said you were just my type.” Billy came to the bed, crawled over Steve, settling his wight over him. Steve reached up, tugging his hair out of the ponytail.

Billy ducked to kiss him, nudging his thighs open. He leaned to dig through the night table, brought out a bottle of lube and a condom.

Tattooed fingers nudged at his hole, rubbed lube around the rim. Steve started tugging at his shirt, making Billy laugh while he had to tangle it off of himself.

“Relax, Pretty Boy.” Steve whined as Billy went back to circling his hole, so he pressed in. He pressed up to the knuckle, curling his finger. He fucked it in and out of him slowly for a while, pumping his finger in and out.

He pressed another in, curling and spreading his fingers, stretching Steve out.

Steve took hold of his wrist, angling his hand.

“Curl you fingers.” Billy smirked at him, curling his fingers. Steve jolted as they shoved into his sensitive little nerves.

“You know just what you want, don’t you?” Billy was mouthing at his chest, sucked a dark mark on his left pec. “Not afraid to ask for it, either.”

He was drilling into Steve with his fingers, fucking him roughly with his hand, bending his fingers, opening them up. Steve was gasped, his legs opening even wider. He added another finger, pouring more lube over his hand, over Steve’s hole.

“I’m ready, just fuck me.” Steve’s eyes were wide, being sure to pout just the way he knew guys liked, voice all perfect and whiny.

“You’re bossy is what you are.” Billy added another finger, making Steve cry out at the stretch. “Think you can cum on just my fingers? I think I’d like that.” He bite gently at Steve’s nipple, making him arch into his chest, pushing his hips down onto Billy’s fingers.

“I want you cock. Please, just fuck me. Please, please.” Billy grinned, resting his chin on Steve’s chest, speeding his hand up, jack hammering it into Steve. “Holy fu-uck.” Steve came all over himself, choking around a few breathy moans.

“That was hot. You’re gorgeous.” Billy pulled his fingers out gently, letting Steve catch his breath while he took off his jeans, tossing them on the floor. Steve took extra notice of the lack of any underwear.

Billy was hard, his cock flushed red against his stomach. He rolled on a condom, settling himself between Steve’s legs, spread wide.

“You ready for me?” Billy was stroking Steve’s cock, smirking as Steve whined, oversensitive. Steve modded, wiggling his hips, whimpering for Billy to fuck him.

Billy pressed himself against Steve, holding his hips down as he gentled himself in, going slowly, inch by inch.

“You’re so tight Baby.” He was pressed flush to Steve, grinding his cock deeper, making Steve choke. He pulled out, immediately setting a brutal pace, sitting on his knees, one hand holding onto Steve’s upper thing, the other gripping his hip.

Steve was fisting the sheets under his head, clawing at them to try and hold on.

Billy was gorgeous above him, hair messy and wild, skin glistening, his muscles moving so beautifully under his tattooed skin.

Steve was hard again, trailed on hand down his body to wrap his fingers around his cock, jerking to the speed of Billy’s thrusts. He was getting close again, Billy was expertly hitting that sensitive little spot inside him, was panting and muttering about how hot Steve is, was making him whine and flush and fly closer to orgasm.

It hit him like a fucking train, making him cry out, adding to the mess on his stomach, tightening around Billy.

Billy gave one final grunt, slamming into Steve, emptying inside the condom. He caught his breath, staring down at Steve, running a finger through the spunk on his stomach, pressing it into Steve’s mouth, his eyes going dark as Steve moaned around his finger, eating his cum off it.

“You’re ridiculously fucking hot.” He huffed a laugh, pulling out of Steve to ditch the condom. “Now I actually owe Heather. That sucks.”

Steve laughed, slapping Billy’s chest.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Episode 7- Damp Embers

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: Oh dear…following every drunken night there’s a morning after. Only on this one someone else turns up dead.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (but who between?????Hmmmmmmmm)

NSFW or No Under 18s…

Episode Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (Yeah, not sure anymore, even we’ve lost track of her hating him or not.)

Song for Episode:  Demons At The Door by Sleeping Wolf

A/N: This entire series contains dark humour (CSI + Brooklyn 99=CSI Steeb) Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read the SSB series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from so somethings might puzzle a few of you if you ain’t, but feel free to ask. Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments  

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List 

Main Masterlist 

“I never saw it coming to this, I never thought we could fall so far. Why do we always burn the bridges, and this is how we always, we always fall apart.”

To say he had a wicked hangover would be the understatement of the year. It was more than that, it was a textbook hangover with an extra of headache meets rage, self-flagellation and guilt. All-in-one pack and ready to go. That was Steve Rogers the morning after, or rather the afternoon after, as he looked at his own reflection in the en-suite mirror.

Was it afternoon? Steve thought as he absent-mindedly examined the bags under his ocean blue eyes and scratched the stubble on his face. He was looking forward to growing his full beard again. He would stop looking like he was barely legal at the bars and would regain his Captain stance. Besides Katie had always loved his beard.

Katie.

He winced at the memories of the previous night and decided to wipe them clean before they rotted his brain, or what was left of it. He peeled his boxers off and got into the shower unit trying to decide between soothing his aching muscles and heart with hot water or numb them with cold water.

Cold water it was. And fifteen minutes later Steve stood facing the curtains of his bedroom windows, dressed in washed blue jeans and a grey t-shirt. He hesitated for a second before throwing the curtains open wide with a swift movement followed by a groan as he closed his eyes, still too sensitive to sunlight. Damned hangover.

He took his phone from his night stand and placed it in his back pocket after checking he had no missed calls or messages. Nothing. Radio silence. Was that a good sign? Sure it was, right?

He sighed before leaving his bedroom. Facing Bucky would be as tough as opening those damned curtains, but he needed caffeine and some food. He poured some of the coffee Bucky must have brewed before into his breakfast mug and made himself a grilled cheese sandwich sided with an extra painkillers dose.

“Look who’s back from the dead” Steve heard Bucky yell from where he leaned on the kitchen doorframe.

“Shhh. Keep your volume low, will ya?” Steve practically begged in response.

“The Golden Boy of Brooklyn Police Department is hungover, ladies and gentlemen.” Bucky said after laughing loudly.

Steve groaned and sat on a stool at the breakfast bar to eat his food shooting daggers at him.

“How the mighty have fallen.” Bucky chuckled sitting on another stool facing him.

“Fuck off Bucky, I feel like crap.” Steve glared at him biting his sandwich.

“You sure look like crap.” Bucky shrugged.

Steve saw Bucky squint his eyes at him and open his mouth to speak, but he hesitated for a few seconds and closed it again.

“What? Spit it out.” Steve demanded as he sipped from his mug.

“I was just wondering… Is Wanda here or….?” Bucky asked.

“Bastard!” Steve shouted at Bucky, and he saw a playful cheeky smile on his friend’s face. Steve sighed and shook his head “I’m not with Wanda, nor planning on being with her. You know all too well I only want….” but he didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t bring himself to pronounce Katie’s name. Let alone give Bucky any more ammo to continue teasing him on the subject.

“But you kissed Wanda.” Bucky said nonchalantly as he bit a plum he had retrieved from the fridge.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me and I stopped it!” Steve raised his voice.

“Yet you made her believe she stood a chance to do it.” Bucky added. “You were practically all over her sat in that booth.”

“I wasn’t…” “Steve, you had your arm round her.” Bucky scoffed “You were leaning into her, laughing at her. Man, I know you’re an idiot when it comes to women but come on!”

Bucky saw Steve stiffen on his stool and for a moment almost took pity on him before he decided not to. Someone had to try and talk sense into the idiot and he was sick and tired of this stupid dance the pair of them were engaged in. “Look, pal. I’m only saying it’s your fault Wanda made a move on you. I warned you a thousand times and still last night you didn’t stop her until it was too late. So you fucked up and ran.” he said pointing at him with the plum.

“Go fuck yourself Bucky! You know full well I didn’t run anywhere. I sank almost a full bottle of Knob Creek at the bar.” Steve winced at the pounding headache increased at the tension of the conversation and raised voices.

“Yeah, I know. Typical of Captain Slow.”

“Captain Slow?” Steve looked at him.

“Yeah, Sam coined it but it serves you well. You’re the one to blame for Katie leaving with flash fire dude. You know that, right?” Bucky insisted.

“Bucky, just don’t” Steve warned him.

“Don’t what. You don’t want me to tell you to stop being a whiney bitch and go get your girl once and for all?” Bucky said sternly looking directly into Steve eyes before muttering "Or what fire dude has left of her that is…”

“Buck.” Steve said in a warning tone as he punched the table in sheer anger.

“Go ahead, take your frustration out on the furniture. But I’m telling you this, punk. If you don’t man up and do something about it, I don’t wanna hear you talk about Katie again.” Bucky spat at Steve before storming out of the kitchen.

“Jerk!” Steve hollered for Bucky to hear. He watched Bucky leave before he groaned and dropped his head, banging it against the breakfast bar. The problem was he had no argument against anything Buck had said. He had been an idiot. He had indulged Wanda, simply because seeing Katie with that overgrown frat jerk had stirred that green eyed monster and that stupid little kid from Brooklyn had reared his head. And just as he and Katie had been getting back on good terms too.

With another sigh he wrenched his head off the counter, shoving the last of his sandwich into his mouth when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Reaching for it, he took a sharp intake of breath when he saw a photo of him and Katie filling his screen. A photo he remembered taking at Coney Island some 2 years previously. He was pulling a ridiculous face as Katie was reaching up to grab his chin, laughing as she did so. Such an unadulterated moment of pure happiness….

“Hi…” he said softly, bracing himself for what was to come, but to his surprise there was no angry

words, no sarcasm, nothing but professionalism.

“Hey.” she said softly “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but we just got a call about another body.”

“Shit.” Steve sighed “Where?”

“The Baseball field in Sunset Park.” she said. “Found by a guy who was taking his 2 kids to play ball. Uniform went down to check it out and then called us. We’re on our way down there now and Tony’s gonna meet us. I’ve sent Thor’s to come get you. Figured you’d need a lift seeing as you’ve no car”

“Thanks.” he said, genuinely grateful she’d thought of him.

“No problem. See you in a bit.”

He stood up, dropping his plate into the sink before he headed into his room to grab his shoes.

“Bucky!” he yelled as he re-emerged from his bedroom.

“You leaving?” Bucky asked turning towards him from his spot on the couch.

“Yes, Katie called. We have another body. Sunset Park” Steve explained as he put his black leather jacket on.

“Shit. Want me to drive you down there?” Bucky offered.

“No. It’s your day off and Katie sent Thor to come get me.” Steve told him.

“Ok. That’s nice of her considering…” Bucky trailed but stopped seeing Steve shooting him a warning look. Right not the time, Bucky thought to himself, give the man a break, as he raised his palms.

“Are you going out tonight?” Steve asked as he grabbed his wallet and keys.

“Maybe. Who knows? I’ll go with the flow.” Bucky said settling back further on the couch putting his feet on the coffee table in front of him and taking the TV remote.

“Take your feet of the coffee table.” Steve ordered.

Bucky was about to mock salute him when Steve phone’s beeped.

“Gotta go. Thor’s waiting. Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” he smiled at Bucky and walked away.

“How can I, you’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky yelled back and returned his feet to the coffee table when he heard the door of the flat close behind Steve.

******

“Good afternoon, Captain.” Thor greeted when Steve entered the patrol car.

“Good afternoon, Thor.” Steve greeted back buckling his seatbelt.

Steve saw Thor look at him with a frown before asking.

“Are you unwell, Captain?”

“Been better.” Steve just said, not wanting to discuss the events of the previous night with Thor.

“Rough night?” Thor insisted as he pulled away.

Rough last nine months Steve thought to himself.

“You could say that. Woke up with a terrible hangover but I’m feeling a bit better now.” Steve explained.

“Ha!” Thor laughed “Little Stark is also suffering I believe. She certainly had a wild night. Barfed up the remnants of her breakfast bagel before I came to collect you!” A wild night? Great, that’s all he needed to hear.

Steve took a deep breath and looked at Thor. “How come you are never hungover seeing as you drink like a fish?”

“Well, it’s been always like that. You see my father used to give us this mead he brewed himself when we were kids.” Thor explained, his eyes glinting at the reverie.

“Your father gave you alcohol?” Steve asked surprised.

“Yes, that he did. He was like a God to us. It was funny. We played hide and seek and my brother used to play dead.” Thor roared with laughter. “Deceitful bastard!” he added serious now.

“Were you guys close?” Steve asked Thor. His bizarre stories were proving a great distraction from his own drama.

“We had our moments. We grew up together, my sister though…” Thor trailed.

“Wait. You have a sister?” Steve enquired.

“Yeah. But she fled the nest when she turned 16. Father went mad at her and kicked her out. Living with her was hell. She liked to kill my snakes, I love snakes!” Thor said his voice sad now.

“What the…?” Steve was about to ask but let it go when he realized Thor was stopping the car not far from the baseball field in Sunset Park.

“We’re here, Captain.” Thor announced.

Steve nodded and unbuckled his belt. When he stepped out of the car he saw Tony perched by a body lying on the grass, Nat and Katie standing by his side. Steve sighed before beginning to walk towards them. Certainly, his guardian angel had to be mocking him or that was what he thought when he saw Katie was wearing a tan leather belted jacket with those damned matching knee high boots with the small heel. He’d be lying if he denied those boots did things to him.

“You look like crap” Tony said as they approached and for a moment the Captain thought he was talking to him until Katie spoke back.

“Eat shit”

“Mind you I’m not surprised.” Her brother folded his arms “Crawling in this morning at half 2.”

“Ok you’re talking and my hangover is getting worse, see the correlation?” Katie groaned.

“Happy told me he saw you outside the compound, eating Storm’s face…wait till I tell Reed.” Tony arched an eyebrow as Steve’s heart sank.

“Fuck off Tony, I was wasted” she shook her head and Steve could tell she was avoiding his gaze.

Not that she had any reason to, not really, they were both single after all.

“Ok, so what have we got?” Steve asked.

“Male, between 45 and 50” Tony spoke. “Initial examination shows cause of death was the same as the others, blunt force trauma, and there’s been further escalation in the violence as you can see…“

Steve glanced and winced. The victim’s face was covered in blood, so much so it was hard to make out any particular features.

"Just like one huge, red skull eh cap?” Tony said. “I’d estimate the fatal blow was the one to the back of the head but he took a few to the front too.”

“Cereal?”

“Yeah.” Tony held up a bag “I don’t know what kind but I’ll get it back to the lab. And before you ask, I estimate he has been dead approximately 10 to 12 hours.”

“Again no evidence he was dumped.” Nat offered.

“So he was killed here at…” Steve glanced at his watched “some point between 2 and 4 am?”

“Yeah, at a first pass. Sam will be able to narrow it down when he does the PM.” Tony nodded.

“Any identification?” Steve looked at Nat and Katie.

“Nothing on him.” Katie shook her head “but there’s a black sedan abandoned on 7th not for from the school. We ran a check and it’s registered to a Mr Johann Schmidt. Thor sent an officer round to establish whether he is at home or not”

“So like the others he drove here, presumably to meet his attacker.”

“Looks like it” she nodded.

“Any possible CCTV?”

“The school has cameras and we can check with traffic when we get back, see if they’ve got any active in the area” Nat replied.

“A few of my officers are talking to the morning staff at the all night convenience store on 7th” Thor offered “just in case”

“Alright” Steve nodded, but before he could go any further Thor’s radio crackled to life.

“This is officer Barker, 10-1…” “10-4 Barker” Thor spoke.

“Yeah, boss, there’s no answer at Schmidt’s.” the officer, known to them only as Barker spoke as they all listened “No sign of any disturbance or forced entry either.” “Understood. 10-6.” Thor instructed. He looked at Steve “Want me to send them in?” “No.” Steve shook his head “We’ll do the same as with the last 2 victims. Organise a search warrant. In the mean time we’ll need a formal identification. Thor, can you get one of your officers to identify his next of kin and locate them. In the meantime, keep the house secure, make sure no one enters. If anyone shows up I want to know about it. Then stay here, keep the scene clear whilst Tony’s team finish their investigation”

Thor nodded and turned away, issuing instructions into his radio. Steve looked at Nat and Katie “Ok, let’s get back to the station. Start doing some digging on Schmidt.” he then turned to Tony “You find anything suspicious in your search, call it in.” “Will do Cap but, if this is like the others I doubt we’ll find anything.”

“Yeah, I know.” he sighed “But I can remain hopeful, right.” “You know, I always admire your giddy optimism.” Tony quirked an eyebrow and Steve gave a huff of a laugh.

“Take it you need a lift back to the station.” Nat said and Steve nodded.

“Will you give me five minutes? I’ll catch up with you guys, need to sort something out with Tones.” Katie asked. And though the question was directed to both of them, Steve could clearly see she was still avoiding looking directly at him.

“Sure.” Nat said turning to walk towards her car. Instructing Steve, who had now hidden his fists in his jacket’s pockets, to follow her with a movement of her head.

“Sucks being called in like this, sorry.” Nat said giving him a side glance.

“Yeah well, it’s not like it’s your fault and I’m the Captain so it comes with the job.” Steve replied his sight never leaving the ground while walking.

“How are you holding up?” Natasha asked him once they reached the car.

“Woke up with this terrible hangover, not totally over it but I’m getting there.” he answered leaning on the hood of the car, arms crossed waiting for Katie.

“Not what I asked.” Nat insisted as she placed herself next to Steve.

Steve hesitated for a moment. He was pondering whether giving in to Romanoff’s questioning would result in a court martial or she would let him off the hook easily. And, as his mind was struggling to come to a decision, his eyes lingered on Katie who was now waving Tony goodbye and was beginning to walk towards them. When he turned to look at Nat he saw she was staring at him.

“She didn’t spend the night with him. She told me earlier.” Natasha said softly, not looking at him, as if they were making casual conversation.

“None of my business, Romanoff.” Steve said as sternly as he could, but knowing Romanoff he was sure she could read the glint of hope in his voice.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” she muttered as Katie was now close enough for her to hear them.

“Thanks guys.” Katie said once she had reached the car. “We can go now.”

Just as Natasha opened the driver’s side, Steve motioned to open the right back door for Katie to get in.

“Erm.. Steve… I know you’re taller and the Captain but I really need to ride shotgun or I’m gonna puke.” Katie pleaded.

“Sure sweetheart.” he conceded. God, was there anything in this world he would be able to deny that woman, he thought as he saw Nat raising an eyebrow at him.

“Thanks.” Katie almost whispered, opening the front door and getting in.

“You good?” Nat asked Katie as all three of them buckled their seatbelts and she adjusted the rear window mirror, positioning it so that she could watch Steve reactions or that was what Steve thought.

“You’ve already thrown up your breakfast. Are you pregnant?” Natasha asked Katie, who choked on her water, as Romanoff checked on Steve through the mirror.

“Chance would be a fine thing.” Katie said as she wiped the water she had spat over her chin and pink button down. “I haven’t had a fuck in that long I’m expecting my virginity back in the post.”

Steve didn’t say a word, didn’t bat an eyelid, didn’t move a muscle on his face. But his mind went there, that was the confirmation he needed. Nat had said they hadn’t spent the night together, which he already knew because Tony had said she had returned home earlier that morning, but now Katie was confirming they hadn’t had sex. Back to square one. Wait, what? What was he thinking? But then again Bucky’s words in his head Man up! Do something about it! Yeah, easier said than done, punk.

“It was only December… That’s not that long.” Natasha drawled.

Steve felt the heat crawling from his neck up to his cheeks at the mention of that December night. He must be bright red and he could sense Natasha’s stare on him, so he avoided it and looked through the window. He couldn’t help but look at the outside mirror on Katie’s side just to see she was ignoring him too.

“It’s long enough, trust me.” Katie shrugged.

And with that there was silence in the car for a few minutes. Everyone lost in their own thoughts. Until Natasha spoke up.

“Let’s do carpool karaoke!” Nat quipped as she motioned to switch the controls of the stereo. “Lighten up the mood a bit.”

“Fuck off, Romanoff.” both Katie and Steve said at the same time.

Steve heard Natasha laugh at them and groaned internally. Just what his head needed, two women singing along in the cabin of a car. But just as the voice of Carrie Underwood performing Before He Cheats filled the space he saw Katie still a little before she glanced at Romanoff who looked at her.

“Turn it over if you want…” “No, it’s ok….” Katie said with a shrug, as she began to hum the song. And Steve was thrown back to a karaoke night less than a year ago.

“I don’t believe it… Clint mumbled. Steve turned his head to see what his annoyance was and almost choked on his beer

"Seriously?” he mumbled, watching as Katie walked into the bar, hand in hand with Ward.

“What is she playing at?” Clint looked at Steve “Cap, we showed her the goddamned photos of him with that blonde broad wrapped around him, eating his face and she’s…”

Steve didn’t say anything as Clint trailed off, instead he simply observed Katie from afar as she walked across the room, stopping to say hi to Peralta and Santiago. She looked up, caught Steve’s eye and smiled at him. He smiled back and the smile slipped slightly as Ward dropped a kiss to her cheek and headed over to the bar.

Katie made her way over to him and Clint, holding her hand up in an instruction for them to keep quiet.

“I know what you’re gonna say…” she said, her voice dropping slightly as she cast an eye over to Grant, “And trust me, it’s taken me everything I have in me not to punch the cheating fucker in the face.”

“What are you still doing with him?” Clint practically exploded.

“You’ll see.” she said, and Steve arched an eyebrow as he saw the mischievous glint in her eye.

Steve looked at her and she shot him an innocent look and he snorted. She was anything but innocent.

“No Peggy?” she asked, looking round.

“No.” Steve said, shrugging. Truth be told they’d had an argument before, another one, this time about him leaving the milk out of the fridge. Ridiculous really, but over the last 6 months they’d been arguing constantly over stupid things like that. His last weekly email to Bucky had seen a reply telling him to finish it with her, but you don’t just walk out on the person you love when the going gets tough without trying to work it out. Certainly not in his books anyway, and especially not after 4 years. She was leaving for London in a few months to take up a 6 month placement with the force over there so maybe the time apart would do them some good. And when she came back…well, that’s when he was intending on popping the question. He looked at Katie who was eyeing him suspiciously and he hastily turned the attention back to her. Dropping his voice lower still he gently placed his arm on her shoulder “You ok?”

“Not at all?” she said, shaking her head and he could see she was fighting tears “I found out my boyfriend of 2 years, who moved in with me less than 4 months ago has been fucking someone else behind my back. Nothing about that is ok…”

“Come ‘ere… ” he said, opening his arms but she shook her head, wiping her eyes.

“I don’t want him thinking anything is wrong…gonna ruin my plan.” she said.

“What plan?” Clint pressed again.

“Like I said, you’ll see…”

They didn’t have to wait that long. The karaoke started and Peralta was first up with his rendition of 'Sweet Caroline’, then came Thor and 'Don’t Stop Believing’, which Steve was actually surprised was pretty good. It had them all dancing and cheering anyway. Then a few more, Steve all the time side eyeing Grant and Katie, the man pawing all over her. It was all the Captain could do to not lay him out. At one point he lost sight of Katie as she disappeared for about 10 minutes but the next time he looked for her, she was back, drink in hand, chatting to Natasha. And then to his surprise, Katie’s name was called. Steve and Clint shared a glance, they both knew Katie had a phenomenal voice but she NEVER did karaoke. The only time they ever heard it was in the car or when she was singing to something absentmindedly in a bar or a club. He saw Grant give her a surprised glance and she winked at him, leaning up to give him a kiss before she walked up to the small stage and took the mic.

And then Steve saw the title of the song on the screen and choked on his beer as his attention turned to Grant, whose smug grin had most certainly slipped. As she sang the words to the song, her eyes locked on Ward’s, Clint began to chuckle and Steve couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face as she sang. The song couldn’t have been more perfect, talks of cheating with a bleach blonde tramp…it was perfect, and the ultimate way to embarrass Ward, his smooth, composed front was fast ebbing away as the song went on, and as she launched into the final chorus, Steve realised she was changing the words as she sang.

“And I dug my keys into the side, of your pretty little silver Audi A5,

Carved my name into your leather seats…

I took a socket wrench to both headlights, slashed a hole in all 4 tyres,

Maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat…”

Steve saw Ward slip his hand into his pocket, swallowing, and then he glared at the stage. Katie dug into the rear pocket of her jeans and waved his keys at him, tossing them carelessly to the dance floor. As Katie stopped singing, the room fell silent and Ward strode forward, picked his keys up and practically ran from the bar. Katie took a deep breath, raised her chin defiantly and stepped down off the stage as chatter broke out again. Steve strode towards her, the same time Peralta, Clint, Diaz and Nat did, and she waved them all away insisting she was ok. Steve, however, slipped his hand into hers and dragged her to the bar.

“Have you really done his car over?” he whispered as he ordered them a bourbon. She nodded.

“Don’t worry, there’s no CCTV.” she shrugged. “I’ll deny it. Plus, I have a feeling I could summon about 13 different alibis if I wanted. Surprising how many people I will have been with all night whilst here…”

She took her drink in a shaking hand and necked in in one, just in time to hear Ward yelling across the bar.

“Uh oh…” she shrugged, sliding her empty glass across the bar as she turned to face him. “Don’t even try to deny it, Grant. You were spotted. On camera no less.”

Ward spluttered a little, before he took a deep breath. “Katie, honey, listen…”

“No Grant, I won’t.” she said, shaking her head “I told you the last time I wouldn’t take you back a second time…and, well…” she shrugged and from behind her, Steve could see her shoulders start to shake. “How could you?”

“I know, I’ve been an idiot…” he said, gently stepping towards her. He reached to grab her arms but she jerked back and almost fell into Steve.

“I got you…” he said gently as she moved back to step besides him. His arm dropped protectively round her waist and he turned his eyes to Ward.

“i think you better leave.”

“This has nothing to do with you Rogers.” Ward spat “Might have known you’d be there ready to swoop in.” “Oh have you heard yourself?” Katie snapped “He’s my friend, my best friend.”

Ward looked at Steve again, the Captain holding his gaze before Ward turned to Katie. “Kay…”

“You know I hate that name.” she shrugged “But I never bothered about it until now. Go away Grant. I’ve nothing to say to you. Don’t bother coming home tonight either. Your shit will be in bags outside the apartment tomorrow.” she spoke, before her voice took on an almost amused tone “Although you’ll need to collect it in an Uber, obviously…or maybe your blonde tramp can help…” At that Steve saw the anger cross Wards face and he stepped forward again “Now listen to me you little bitch…” He didn’t get any further, Steve stepped in front of Katie and shoved him hard in the chest “Don’t you dare speak to her like that…” “Back off…” Ward said, shoving him back. “This is between me and her…” “And she told you she has nothing to say…” “He’s right.” Katie said from behind him

“So, like I said, I think you better leave.”

Ward drew himself up to full height and for a second Steve thought he was going to punch him, which, would suit him as it would give him an excuse. Instead, he looked round the Captain at Katie who was stood behind him, her shoulder brushing the back of his arm.

“Don’t’ think I won’t; be pressing charges over my car.” he snarled.

She shrugged. “Please feel free, I’ll even take the statement from you myself if you want.” Ward glared at her, than he glanced at Steve, who arched an eyebrow. Ward laughed, bitterly “lemme guess, she was with you the whole time…” Steve merely shrugged, a grin on his face. Ward scoffed, looked once more at Katie before he turned and walked off.

“Fuck you…” Katie called loudly, and Steve turned to see her raised the middle finger of her right hand in the air, not even looking at Ward. About 30 seconds later she broke down.

He’d taken her back to his that night, sat on the couch as she cried and cried, simply holding her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep. He’d then covered her with a blanket, left a glass of water on the coffee table for her and headed to bed. Where he’d had another blazing row with Peggy about the fact he’d brought her home…

“You seen him since?” Steve asked Katie cautiously when he returned to reality.

“You know I ain’t. You were there the last time, when you and Tony kicked him out of my flat and then you changed my locks.” Katie answered her eyes lost on the road her head against the head rest.

“You ok, doll?” Steve asked her softly. He knew Grant Ward was still a sensitive topic even if she denied it.

“I’m fine. It feels like it was a lifetime ago.” she replied pursing her lips, her eyes not leaving the road.

*******

“Cap?”

Steve looked up from where he had been re-reading some notes in his office to see Natasha beckoning him over.

“You got something?”

“You could say that.” she mused. “I just finished the background checks and it turns out our man worked at the German Embassy, something to do with visas, but that’s not important….”

“O-kay…” Steve said, waiting for her to finish, but it was Katie that spoke next.

“Sara Klein was a Translator…and guess where she worked out of?” Katie looked at him her eyebrow raised, excitement in her tone. Steve, understanding immediately looked at her, smiling slightly.

“Another link to the Rumlow case.” he said, folding his arms.

She nodded. “We just need to link Ross to it.”

Steve turned to Natasha “We got anything from Tech on the phone records?” “We won’t until Monday.” she shook her head.

The three of them both fell into silence, all pondering something before Katie stood up, grabbing a few pads of Post Its off her desk.

“I’m gonna go over the stuff in the incident room.” she said, “See if I can find anything…” Steve nodded and watched her go.

“You know Diaz was gonna stab you in the heart last night?” Natasha blurted out once Katie was out of sight. “But, I stopped her. You’re welcome.”

Steve turned, pouting and was about to ask Nat what for but he decided against it when his eyes met her warning stare, it had ‘don’t play dumb with me, Rogers’ written all over.

“I didn’t kiss Wanda, she kissed me.” Steve protested.

“Yeah, I know. But she doesn’t” she said pointing with her thumb to the corridor that led to the incident room. “That’s the only reason she left with Storm.”

Steve sighed, deep down he knew Nat was right and he knew better than to start an argument about his love life with her.

“I hate what you did to her. And I’m not talking about last night.” Natasha said.

“You know…” Steve looked at Natasha. It was more a statement than a question. He knew that she knew, he’d overheard the conversation between the two of them a few weeks ago but he was still surprised that Natasha was admitting to it.

“Yes, she told me. She needed someone to pour her heart out.” she shrugged.

“If it had been me you had ran out on, I would have ripped your head off and used it as doormat.” she said between gritted teeth “But, I want you two together so…”

“Nat, look…” Steve began to say.

“Don’t Nat me, Rogers.” she said between gritted teeth “You two belong together, that I know. So, stop dancing around each other and do something about it. Oh, and not creating chaos while trying would be nice. I’m trying to wipe my ledger, Rogers, help a girl out, will ya?”

Steve nodded smiling softly at her and she nodded back patting his shoulder.

“Look, why don’t you get off.” he said. “It’s getting late and there’s nothing more we can do now.” Nat nodded “Sure thing Cap.”

Steve smiled at her and as he headed out of the office and strode down the corridor. As he walked he felt his phone go and he pulled it out to read a text from Bucky.

“I’m out for the night, Punk. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…or do do something I woud…read into that what you will…” With a roll of his eyes he slid his phone back into his pocket and opened the door to the Incident Room, Katie was sat on the desk, her legs swinging as she stared at the board he noticed was now littered with coloured post it notes.

“What am I missing?” she sighed “Steve, there has to be something here that links Ross to this, I can feel it I just…” she slammed her hand on the desk and sighed, rubbing at her temple. Steve remained silent for a moment as she frowned and then moved towards the board.

“Bucky and Clint followed up on the whole goat hair thing, right?” she said.

“Yeah…” “Well look at this.” she said, beckoning him over. He crossed the room and looked to where her finger was pointing. It was a line on one of Ross’ Bank Statements.

“Green Bale Animal Feeds…” he frowned.

“Yeah, why would he be buying stuff from there?”

“To feed animals.” Steve pondered, and then his brain suddenly clicked as he looked at her “But we didn’t’ find any evidence of Ross having a farm or animals of his own…”

“Could be a screen for something…” she shrugged.

Steve debated it for a moment before he grabbed a post it, wrote the letters FFI- For Further Investigation- and slapped it on the paper before he turned to Katie “Honey, its late, I just sent Natasha home and I think you should go too.” “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” she said, “Not much else we can do…” “Well get yourself home, I’ll be right behind you once I’ve sorted an Uber.” “Still no car?”

“Got a hire arriving Monday” he shrugged.

She took a deep breath, “Don’t call an Uber. I’ll drop you.” “You sure?”

“Course.” she nodded “What are friends for?”

“Ok, well gimme 5 and I’ll grab my jacket and shut everything down.” he smiled. She nodded and he turned to go, pausing slightly to look back at her before he headed to his office. This was a good sign, right? She’d been ok with him all day and was now offering him a lift home…

Closing his computer down, he turned off the lights to his office and smiled as he looked up and saw Katie at her desk, pulling on her jacket. She paused and rummaged in her drawer, her face frowning.

“Lose something?” he asked, shutting the door to his office. “Yeah my emergency chocolate.” she moaned “Just when I’m ready to tackle food I can’t find anything.” “Well…” Steve began “Bucky’s out tonight…if you want, I mean, only if you want, we could swing by the diner grab some hangover busting junk and slob out at mine…” “Been a while since we did that.” she said after a pause, with a small smile.

“That a yes?” he said, raising his eyebrow, grinning.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, the smile still on her face “Fine, but I’m picking the movie.” ******

After eating all the greasy food their system was able to process on one go and a couple of beers each, they were snuggled on Steve’s couch watching Seven. Katie’s pick, “For research purposes” she claimed, nothing to do with the fact she thought Brad Pitt was hot, at all.

“Tracy Mills looks an awful lot like Pepper.” Steve mused, his eyes on the screen while he rubbed Katie’s back as her head lay on his shoulder.

“Yes” Katie giggled “You know I’ve always thought if they made a film about our lives Morgan Freeman would be a good Fury.”

“Hah, Samuel L. Jackson would play Fury better.” Steve said wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Katie conceded with a snort.

“Who do you think would play your part?” Steve asked her kissing the top of her head.

“Kate Beckinsale.” she said totally convinced of her answer and Steve chuckled.

“Possibly, she’s pretty.”

“What about you, Captain?” she said, sitting up and stretching her hand up to scratch gently at the stubble on his face. “Any handsome bearded Hollywood hot actor come to mind?”

“Quite a few now that you mention it…” he said playfully.

Steve saw her looking at him intently while she continued tracing patterns in his stubble and leaned on her hand, considering kissing the hell out of her right then and there.

“Did Wanda like it? Your stubble?” Katie suddenly asked her glance hardening and Steve felt his heart skip a beat.

“What the fuck, Katie?” he asked annoyed.

“Just asking, some women find it a bit rough.” she shrugged.

“I don’t know about that. Did you? Not like it mattered much to you when you were eating Storm’s face outside the Compound” Steve bit back, fed up with Katie bratty outbursts.

“Don’t start Steve…” Katie looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly “You have no right to lecture me considering the fact you were sat at the bar eating Wanda’s face! Talk about keeping it in-house…”

She stood up off the couch and Steve sighed. “That wasn’t…” he shook his head as he too stood, needing to make her understand “That wasn’t what you think.” “I don’t think anything Steven.” she shot back.

Steven? What the fuck?

“Oh, so I’m Steven now?” he snorted, his hands falling to his belt buckle.

“Would you prefer Captain? Or Rogers? Or ass hole?” she glared back, folding her arms.

“I prefer it when you don’t behave like a fucking brat.” he stared back, and saw her face darken as her eyes flashed angrily.

“Me? I’m a fucking brat?” she scoffed “You’re the one kicking off about me kissing someone else when you fucked me and left me!”

Steve took a deep breath as she continued, her pace and volume increasing as her rant continued

“You had your chance and you blew it, so what is this?” she threw her arms out to the sides bringing them back down with a slap “You don’t want me but don’t want anyone else to have me either is that it? Fuck you Steve, fuck you!”

“Katie, just don’t…”he said, a little wearily. He was tired of going round in this circle. Truth be told she was so far off the mark it was ridiculous.

“What? Truth hurts?” she scoffed. “You’re such a…” she took a deep breath and stopped. She pressed her lips together, shaking her head as her shoulders sagged, almost in defeat “You know what, I can’t…I can’t be here right now. We can’t keep doing this. I need to go.”

She turned to leave but Steve quickly grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Katie…” “Go fuck yourself…” she said, jerking her hand out of his hold “Actually, no, go fuck Wanda, sure she’ll be thrilled…”

“I don’t fucking want Wanda!” Steve exploded, before he could stop himself “I want you.” There was a pause, the room falling silent. Katie’s eyes widened slightly and she swallowed as she stood, frozen to the spot. Steve let out a loud breath and ran his hand through his hair.

“You’re right, we can’t keep doing this.” he said, his voice softer “And I can’t keep hiding the way I feel. I get it, I fucked up, but I’m done looking for forgiveness…”

He stepped towards her, as she remained watching him, her eyes not leaving his for a second. And then, it was like something in his brain took over. He was done, done waiting, done trying to push his feelings down and ignore them.

“And I’m way passed asking for permission…” he said, and with that he grabbed her hips and with a sharp pull he jerked her towards him, his lips crashing to hers. It took her a second but then she reciprocated, her arms sliding up round his neck as his hands wrapped around her back, pulling her closer,  pouring every single bit of emotion and frustration he’d felt over the past few months into the kiss. It was urgent, it was desperate, and he had to bite back the growl of frustration when she put her hand on his chest and pushed him away.

“Steve…” she whispered, her eyes closing as his forehead dropped to rest against hers “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he asked softly.

“Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.” she opened her eyes which were full of tears and looked at him “Because…damned it Steve! It’s you, it’s always been you…” at that she turned her head away slightly, “…and I can’t cope with another rejection and…” “Shhhhh” he said gently, his hands reaching up to cup her face “Look at me…” She turned back to him and he locked his eyes onto hers “Give me another chance, please.” “But work…” she looked at him, as he wiped away the tear that had fallen down her face with his thumb. “What about that? How do I know this is gonna end up any different to last time?”

“Fuck work.” he said earnestly, because he meant it. He damned well meant it. “As soon as this case is over I’ll talk to Fury and we’ll work it out…” “But…” “But nothing! Look…” he cut her off, his eyes boring into hers as he spoke, driving his words home, her face held gently in his large hands. “This is my choice. And I know that I’m like the world’s leading authority on waiting too long but, if you give me another chance, then I swear to God I’ll never let you go again sweetheart.” He paused as more tears fell from her beautiful green eyes and he once more wiped them away as he continued “I should never have let you go last time. Watching the woman I love walk away was… “What did you just say?” she whispered, her eyes widening slightly. He swallowed, as in all honestly he hadn’t meant to say that, but fuck was it true. He did love her, he’d loved her for years and wasted so much fucking time. Well not anymore.

“You heard.” he said, swallowing before pressed his forehead back to hers, “I love you.” Silence…and for a horrible moment Steve thought she was going to push him away. But her hands slid up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him back down to her, kissing him desperately.

“Fuck I missed you…” Steve all but growled in to her mouth as she reached down for the bottom of his t-shirt and yanked it upwards, almost desperately. 

“We spent one night together…” she said back, breathlessly.

“Yeah but it was a damned good night…” he said, his lips back on hers as his hands flew to her baby pink button down. His fingers fumbled on the second button and he broke away to look down. “oh fuck it…”  he muttered giving a harsh tug, ripping it open.

“Seriously?” she looked up at him, he shrugged as his hands gripped her face and he kissed her again, desperately, as his hands moved round to unhook her bra. Tossing it somewhere to the side he pressed hot kisses down the side of her neck, hissing against her skin as she undid his belt and dropped it to the floor. In a quick move that made her squeak slightly, he reached down and grabbed her ass, hauling her off the floor, her legs wrapping around his waist as he backed her up against the door which led to the hallway, her back hitting it a little harder than he had intended, drawing a soft grunt from her mouth as it rattled in the frame.

“Ow…” she said, grabbing a fist full of his hair and tugging harshly so he looked at her. He gave an apologetic grin before his lips gently latched one to her neck again, sucking at the pulse point. She gave a soft sigh as he nipped at the skin before his attention moved down and he traced the swell of her breast with his mouth, his tongue flicking at her nipple, one hand grasping at her hip, the other pressing against the door by her head. She gave a low moan and her hips pushed down against the bulge in his trousers and he pressed into her, giving her the friction she was asking for. Her hands skimmed down his back, fingers tracing his spine as he pushed up again and then he couldn’t take it anymore. He set her gently on her feet and his hands flew to her jeans, undoing the button before he slid them down and she stepped out of them. No sooner had he got rid of them he hooked one leg over his shoulder as he knelt before her, shifting her soaked panties to one side. At the first touch of his mouth she cried out, one hand falling to his head, the other palms slapping against the wooden surface behind her as she pressed further into it, keeping herself up-right as she writhed at his actions.

Her taste was just how he remembered, and he couldn’t get enough. His tongue and lips worked in tandem, un-doing her lap by lap all the time begging him not to stop, which he had no intention of doing anyway until she had come undone. It wasn’t long before her grip in his hair tightened and her leg trembled slightly and he felt her stiffen above him.

“Fuck, Steve…”she stuttered, as his tongue worked her over, and he glanced up as she gave a loud cry, her head falling forward before it fell back again against the wall with a hard thud. She grasped his shoulder as her leg gave way and Steve stood up, catching her easily, a grin on his face as she opened one eye and looked at him, her pupils blown with lust, her thighs once more locked round his waist. He kissed her again, the kiss absolutely filthy as he stepped back and opened the door and walked them down the hall to his bedroom.

She knelt upon the bed, her hair falling over her face as she hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and pulled him to her, undoing his flies before she slid his pants and boxers down in one full swoop, taking him in her mouth without so much as a warning.

“Shit…” he mumbled, his hands tangling into her hair, guiding her softly as she moved, her head bobbing back and forth before she pulled away to lick along the base of his shaft and he knew then if she carried on he was going to blow his load before he’d even gotten to the main event.

With a gentle shove he pushed her back on the bed, stepping out of his jeans, reaching down for his socks before he crawled over her, pulling her underwear down. He didn’t even give her a chance to say anything before he gave her ankles a soft tug, pulling her down further on the bed, crawling between her legs. He kissed her again, hands on either side of her face as he buried himself inside of her, with a loud groan.

“God you feel so good…”his mouth moved over her jaw to her ear as he praised her, nipping at the lobe, his pace set right from the off as fast, and desperate. Because he was, he was desperate for this woman. Desperate like he’d never been desperate before.

“Stevie…” she groaned, hands clawing at his back, clearly as needy for him as he was her. Releasing one of her hands, he reached down to hook a leg over his shoulder causing her to cry out loud at the change of angle and depth as he continued to drive into her like his life depended on it. He bent over to kiss her, swallowing another loud moan as he did, feeling her sweat soaked skin slick against his.

“Fuck, baby I’m close…” he stuttered, “You close, tell me you’re close…”

“Don’t stop…” she panted, her head falling back further onto his pillow as she grasped his arms whilst he continued to fuck her into the mattress before she gave a low, sultry whimper and her eyes fluttered shut, nails digging into his bicep as she shuddered underneath him, her back arching.

“Shit, doll…” he groaned before he surrendered to the utter bliss, tumbling over the edge of the precipice he had been teetering on. With a final, deep thrust he collapsed on top of her, the room silent bar the sounds of their deep, heavy breathing as they both came down, fighting for control. He felt her hands gently move round to tangle in his hair, nails scratching his scalp and he raised his head, eyes still closed, enjoying her touch.

“Hey…” she said, still slightly out of breath and he opened his eyes to see her looking up at him, her cheeks flushed, hair all over the place and fuck, he’d never seen anything so damned beautiful in his life.

“Hey…” he smiled back, before he leaned down to give her a soft kiss, this one tender, full of love, a stark contrast from the heated, desperate ones that had been shared before. He smoothed her hair back before he pressed his forehead to hers, his nose bumping hers and she gave a soft giggle as he kissed her again before rolling off and landing on his back, eyes closed, his hand rubbing his chest. He was starting to ache a little bit, the bruises from his accident still not completely healed, and if he was honest, he’d probably over done it a little, but did he give a shit? Not one.

“You ok?” Katie asked and he turned his head to look at her, giving her a smile.

“Never been better.” he said honestly, and she smiled, leaning over to give him a kiss. She pulled away and looked at him. “Is Bucky due back?”

“Fuck knows.” he shrugged “Why?”

“Because our clothes are thrown all over the living room.” Steve contemplated that for a moment before he nodded “Good point.”

With a soft groan he heaved himself up and shot into the living room, leaving her giggling in his bedroom as he quickly collected the items along with a bottle of water and headed back into the bedroom. He dropped their clothes in a pile on the floor and smiled as he saw Katie had worked her way under the covers.

“You should have just thrown that shirt out.” she said, taking the water off him with a thanks.

“Yeah, sorry about that…” he said, a little meekly as he slid into the bed next to her “I’ll buy you a new one.” “Damned right you will, that was Ralph Lauren.”  she said, offering him the water bottle.

“Fuck…” he groaned “Trust me to ruin a hundred dollar shirt.” “You telling me it wasn’t worth it?” she pouted and he chuckled, laying back, placing the bottle on his bedside table.

“Sweetheart, I’d ruin a thousand of the damned things if it ended like that each time.”

With a soft laugh she snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his chest. With a soft, contented sigh he dropped a kiss to the top of her head, his hand rubbing at her back as her leg tangled with his.

As they lay in silence, Steve’s hand softly carding through Katie’s hair, a feeling of utter contentment spread across the Captain’s chest. The stress and angst of the last few months had completely ebbed away and as they lay there in their own little bubble, totally at peace, Steve knew he’d never be as happy as he was when she was in his arms.  

Steve woke some time later, with her back pressed to his chest. He realised what had woken him when she gently untangled herself from him to head into the en-suite. It wasn’t long before she came back and snuggled into him, her face pressing into his chest, his hands gently rubbing her back.

“Did you mean it?” her voice broke the silence

“Hmm?”  he mumbled, still drifting in that space between sleep and consciousness.

“What you said earlier, that you love me…” he felt pull back slightly “Did you mean it?””

Ok so that woke him up. He opened his eyes and glanced down at her to see her watching him. He took a deep breath and nodded “Of course I meant it.”

She studied him for a second, her eyes bright before she smiled and leaned up to give him a soft kiss.

“I kinda love you too…” she whispered against his mouth. At her words Steve felt the huge, shit eating grin spread across his face. His hand crept into the back of her hair as he kissed her again before she pulled away, her finger tracing shapes on his chest.

“You’re thinking about something.” Steve watched her, almost nervously “I can tell. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…not really” she said, before she looked up at him, grinning “I just realised that we’ve had sex four times now…granted 3 of those times were on the same night but, that’s by the by…”

Steve chuckled as she continued to talk. “…we’ve admitted to each other that we love one another…and you’ve not taken me on a single date yet.”

Steve blinked before he let out a soft huff “Yeah, that’s…kinda shameful. And something I’ll rectify real soon…” “Oh will you?” She asked playfully as he moved, rolling her onto her back. 

“Yep.” he nodded, his left leg parting both hers “Thought I could take you to dinner one evening next week.” he said, his lips gently brushing her neck before he placed a single kiss under her ear “we’ll head into Manhattan…” another kiss as he worked his way downwards “Grab somethin’ to eat…” a peck to her collar bone as she sighed, tipping her head backwards “a few drinks…” his nose traced a path up her neck and over her chin “sound good?”

She nodded as a soft sigh escaped her mouth.

“Now, you mentioned something about 3 times in one night?” he quipped cheekily. Her eyes flew open and she gave him a grin as his lips once more claimed hers before he whispered “I can do this all night.”

@momobaby227  @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld  @cobalt-gear  @jennmurawski13  @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie  @navispalace @patzammit  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog  @djeniiscorner​  @ayamenimthiriel​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @disneylovingal @madzmilllz  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​  @southerngracela​ @goldenfightergir​ @kellymat​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @charmed-asylum​

[stateofloveandnegan]

Finally - Kenny Hickey

Have you heard of Type O Negative? If you have, can you write a one shot with Kenny Hickey? (Lead guitarist) something where you finally get to meet him backstage and it’s all fluffy with him flirting with you while you gush to him about how much of a fan you are? Jut a thought 😁

Took me long enough to finally finish this, I’m sorry :( I really do hope you like it!

Note: Kenny is about 29 in this one shot (it takes place ‘round ‘95)

Requested by: anon

“Are you ready, (Y/N)?” Leah asks me as we’re waiting in line to go backstage. We’ve just witnessed what, in my opinion, was the best concert ever from Type O Negative. I’ve been a fan for as long as I can remember and when Leah told me we’d be going to the concert I jumped into the air in happiness. When she told me we’d get to meet the bandmembers, I almost crushed her to death while giving her a hug, one could say I am very happy to be able to call her my friend.

I laugh nervously as I move my weight from leg to leg, not being able to stand still, “I am so fucking nervous.”

Leah chuckles as she wraps one arm around me, “Don’t stress it, just try to act naturally, especiallyin front of Kenny. He’ll love you if you’ll just act like yourself.”

And that name is exactly what causes me to get even more nervous; Kenny. God I’ve been crushing on the guy for God knows how long and in a couple of minutes I’ll finally get to meet him.

Not much later Leah and I are guided backstage and that’s when my breath hitches. He is even more handsome than on the pictures.

“Hello, you there?” a voice interrupts me from my daydream about Kenny and when I look to the side I’m met with the eyes of none other than Peter Steele. “Oh jesus, yes sorry. Hi!” I stutter, becoming more starstruck every second.

Throughout meeting the rest of the band, except for Kenny, yet, I constantly feel a pair of eyes on me. Figuring it’s just Leah enjoying my flustered form, I brush the feeling off. Though, when my eyes wander to Kenny for a moment as I’m talking to Josh, I notice he’s already looking at me while he’s talking to Leah.

I immediately look away while the heat creeps up to my cheeks and in the corner of my eye I notice a smirk appearing on his face.

“(Y/N), come over here!” Leah yells at me as I just finish up talking to Josh. I nod at her, “Thank you for the great show, Josh. It was a pleasure meeting you.” I tell him and he smiles, “You too, (Y/N), thank you for coming tonight.”

As soon as I’m done talking to Josh, I make my way over to where Leah is standing and happily chatting away with Kenny. My heart rate picks up with every step I take and when I reach them, Leah kindly tells me she’ll wait for me in the bar and leaves me behind with Kenny.

“Hello.” he speaks up in that devilishly hot voice, to which I smile nervously, “Hi,”

“Your friend Leah told me you’re quite a fan of us?” he asks as he gestures for me to follow him to a couch near a table with some drinks on top.

I follow him and silently thank him for the drink he hands me when we reach the table, sitting down carefully as to not spill the drink, which wouldn’t surprise me if that did happen due to the nervous state I am in, “Oh, yeah, very much so, actually.” I laugh nervously.

The smirk enters Kenny’s face and it makes my stomach do somersaults, “And do you have a favorite member?”

Now I know why he’s smirking, Leah must’ve slipped that I’m a fool for Kenny and now he’s just teasing me about it. Deciding that being awkward isn’t going to help me feel relaxed, I gather some confidence and get my act together, “As a matter of fact I do! Funny enough, it’s you.”

The change in my behavior doesn’t go unnoticed by Kenny and he smiles a genuine smile through the smirk that’s still resting on his face. “It’s honestly so great to finally meet you, Kenny, I’ve waited so long for this moment.”

I realise that the confidence isn’t even fake anymore as I notice the effect it’s having on Kenny. “That’s nice to hear, I’m honored. Did you enjoy the concert?”

“I did yeah, it was great!” the smile on my face is undoubtably immense. Kenny just looks at me, mirroring my expression.

It’s quiet for some minutes before Kenny breaks the silence, “You’re a very beautiful girl..” and he cuts himself off, furrowing his brows and bringing his hand up to softly slap himself in the face. “What’s wrong?” I ask with a chuckle, a slight blush lingering on my cheeks because of the comment he made.

Kenny removes his hand from his face as he looks back up, meeting my eyes. He lets out an amused chuckle, “I only now realise that I haven’t even asked you your name yet.”

And now that I think of it, he’s right. I mean, he didn’t introduce himself, either. But that’s probably because he usually doesn’t have to- and because I already knew his name. “It’s (Y/N).” I softly tell him, “And thank you for the compliment.”

Kenny smiles and his eyes light up, he’d already forgotten about it, “Tell me some stuff about yourself, (Y/N).” The way he says my name has my knees weaken and I thank God for the fact that I’m sitting down; I would’ve been a puddle on the ground if it weren’t for the couch I’m sitting on.

“Alright,” I say, sitting up a little straighter after placing my, now empty, glass back on the table, “I’m 26, will turn 27 in three days. I work as a veterinarian, I love animals… Back in the day I always wanted to be a singer, I practiced singing for a couple years and I still love doing so, though I don’t do it very often. Something I really like doing is going to concerts and, of course, meeting my idols.” I tell him, smiling cheekily at the end.

Throughout it all, Kenny keeps smiling and some moments the smile grew even bigger, especially when I told him I always wanted to be a singer. “A singer eh, are you gonna sing something for me now?”

I let out a laugh and playfully nudge him, “Like hell I am. I haven’t properly used my voice to sing for someone in years, you’re a fool if you think I’ll sing something for you now, mister.”

Kenny laughs and pouts at the same time, “Ahw, come on! You’ve made me curious.” But nothing will make me change my mind, not even his adorable face. “Alright, alright. But back to what you were saying… Did you just say I’m your idol?”

“And what if I did?” I say, sending him a playful smile to which he chuckles, “Nothing, it’s just nice to hear something like that. Amazing, even.”

The two of us keep on talking for a bit longer and every second I feel myself wanting to stay with him more and more.

“Are you still coming, or what?” Leah asks with a smile on her face as she comes backstage again. “Oh shit.” I mutter under my breath, which Kenny must’ve heard because he suddenly starts snickering.

Both Kenny and I stand up from the couch and walk over to Leah, “I’m sorry, I honestly completely lost track of time…” I apologise to her and she smiles, brushing it off, “It’s alright, just means you had a great time, which is good.”

A blush creeps onto my face and I look at Kenny for a second, only to be met with his own red cheeks, “Yeah, I was having a great time, indeed. Anyways,” I say, turning back to Kenny, “It was honestly a pleasure to meet you and I had, as just said, a great time. I hope I didn’t come across as a fangirl too much.”

Kenny laughs, “You didn’t, I honestly didn’t even really realise I was talking to a fan, you’re very easy to talk to, which I mean entirely positive, no negative thoughts to that.”

Nearing the end of my time with Kenny makes my heart sink, but it has to stop sooner or later anyways. “Thank you for tonight, Kenny.”

“Don’t mention it, I’m glad I got the chance to meet you. Good night (Y/N).” he hugs me and smiles at Leah before taking some steps backwards, “Good night Kenny.”

The rest of the evening with Leah is spent with me gushing about Kenny. “He was just so wonderful and sweet and everything…”

But, after another two hours in the club, we decide to call it a night. Though, just when we’re about to head out, a hand grips mind, “(Y/N).”

When I turn I’m once again faced with Kenny and his red cheeks. “Hey, Kenny. We were just about to head home, actually…”

Kenny takes in a deep breath, “Yeah- about that, could I maybe walk you home?”

To say I’m a bit shocked is quite an understatement, but a smile soon appears on my face and I look at Leah as if to ask if it’s alright, “Go walk home together, I’ll take a cab.”

“Let me pay for it then, I’m the cause of it and all...” Kenny says while shoving some money into Leah’s hand. She smiles and thanks Kenny before giving me a hug and leaving the place.

Kenny waits before Leah’s completely gone, “Let me get my jacket and we can go, alright?” I nod and smile, waiting for him in the hall. He gets back pretty quickly, now wearing a very fucking sexy leather jacket.

“Lead the way.” he smiles before placing his arm around my back, his hand resting on my waist. The feeling of his body pressed against mine send electricity through my whole body and I’m desperately trying not to tense up.

It’s pretty cold outside, but I don’t feel the cold until after about ten minutes and I start shivering lightly. “Are you cold?” Kenny asks and I softly nod, “A little yes.”

Before I can even stop him, Kenny’s already taking off his jacket and placing it over my arms. “Now you’ll get cold!” I tell him in a whiney-voice to which he laughs, “I never really get cold, don’t worry. What’s important is that you’re warm.”

His actions and words cause my heart to skip a beat, “You’re really sweet, Kenny.” He smiles and looks down for a second to prevent me from seeing his flushed cheeks, but I’ve already seen them, “I’m glad you think so. It’s good to know that me trying to impress you at least works a little..”

I freeze for a nano-second, but soon a huge smile takes over, “You’re trying to impress me, huh?”

Kenny looks up with an unsure smile on his face as he softly scratches the back of his head. I let out a content sigh and rest my head carefully on his shoulder as his arm makes it’s way back around me, his hand now moving down to intertwine our fingers.

“This is my stop.” We reach my house much too soon for my liking, I was just enjoying Kenny’s company so much.

Kenny looks up and his eyes wander to my little house as he smiles, “It looks very cosy in there.”

“It is. Do you want to come in?” I ask, feeling bold enough. Kenny chuckles, “I would’ve loved to come in, but I really have to head back and help the guys clean up a little, I only barely managed to convince them to let me take you home…”

I nod and smile at him, only feeling a little disappointed. “Alright, well, thanks again for tonight. And thank you for walking me home.” Just when I’m about to take off his jacket, he takes my hands in his, “Keep it, it looks better on you anyway.”

“I doubt that, but thanks. Now I have something that will remember me of you every time I see it.” Both our faces have huge, goofy, smile on them.

Kenny eventually nods and quickly takes a step closer to softly press a kiss against my cheek, “Sweet dreams, (Y/N)”

Before Kenny can step back I wrap my arms around him and bury my head into the crook of his neck, “I can’t seem to thank you enough for tonight, really.” I mutter against his neck and I can feel him laughing. When i move back I softly tell him ‘good night’ and walk inside my house.

“Will I see you again?” Kenny suddenly speaks up and I smile to myself. “Lunch tomorrow at Manzo’s? The little restaurant around the corner from the club you played tonight.”

Kenny smiles when our eyes meet again, “Definitely, I’ll see you there at 1. Bye (Y/N)!”

[jesbakescookies]

Here’s an old Christmas smut one shot. 

This is a AU featuring Merle and Sam from Sweet Hereafter, an if they met before type fic (you don’t need to read SH but it’s kinda fun to see them before).

If you’ve read Sweet Hereafter this is based ten years prior to the zombie out break. It is pretty much smut, fyi. This is a stand alone one shot that may or may not turn into something depending on reactions. Let me know your thoughts.

I don’t own the walking dead etc. OC and non canon stuff is mine.

Story contains lyrics and title is inspired from “If you want trouble” by Nick Waterhouse

On any given day Merle could find trouble. Whether it was booze, blow or broads, if he wanted it, he could find it. Trouble came easy for most Dixons but Merle was a professional hellion.

He could saunter into any shithole bar, in any asscrack of Georgia town and walk out with not only a goodie bag full of drug cocktails but a piece of tail to do them with.

It was easy, always was and probably always would be but that Christmas Eve night when the bars door opened with a groan and slammed shut with a obnoxious screech, a type of trouble walked in that would have Merle on his knees begging for it.

He stood at the end of the long sticky bar top, a beer bottle hanging loosely in his hand and cigarette tucked behind his ear. He had just finished working an odd job at a nearby packaging warehouse. They’d needed extra help for the holidays and he made a quick grand loading 18 wheelers with over priced bullshit for suburbanites. He was at the bar blowing through some of that hard earned cash when he saw her. His head lolled to the side, his piercing baby blues taking in the lean blonde swaying her way through the crowded tables. She sided up to the bar ordering a Jack and Coke from Martinez the resident pint slinger. Her blonde hair was haphazardly pulled back, tendrils falling onto the shoulders of her leather jacket.

Merle peered over and saw her curved ass painted in worn denim perched on the barstool, her boot clad foot braced on the kick rail. She was pale but her cheeks were flushed from the cold air whipping through the darkened streets. Her plump lips cupped the glasses rim as she sipped her drink. She was sexy as fuck and looked like she could chew a man up and spit him to the side.

He wanted her. 

Wanted her bent over a stationary object so he could rail into her. Spread open and wet for him.

Fuck, his cock throbbed at just the thought of seeing her soft thighs and perky tits. He hadn’t seen such a good looking woman in the whole state of Georgia, which said a lot since he spent most his time drifting all over those rolling hills.

Merle smirked at Martinez who was leaning towards her, his Latin charm in full swing. He could tell the blonde was unimpressed but gladly taking her free refill from the overconfident man.

Deciding it was time to see just what kind of girl he was checking out, Merle strolled over, sliding into the seat next to her. He leaned in close, his arm braced on the back of her barstool.

“Martinez botherin’ ya Sugar?” He drawled a slow grin curling his lips. She cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Your name Martinez too?”

Snorting Merle rasped sarcastically, “Do I look brown enough to be a fuckin’ Maaaartinez?”

“I figured Martinez was a code word for asshole or something.” She snarked sipping her drink. Merles eyes narrowed and asked, “Ya callin’ me an asshole Sugar?”

“Yes. Now can I drink in peace?”

Merle waved a hand dismissively and grunted, “Nah it’s Christmas Eve. Nobody should be alone on Christmas.”

“I don’t believe in Christmas.” she grumbled her finger swiping through the sweat on her glass. Chuckling Merle rasped, “Ya should. Saint Nick hooked ya up this year, ol’ Merle’s here t'keep ya company.”

“Oh really? Sounds like I got jipped.”

“Now that ain’t nice Sugar.” Merle pouted, his lip out before slowly grinning, “How bout ya tell me your name and we get t'know one anotha.”

“Names none of your damn business and I prefer to drink alone.” She growled, her eyes cutting to his angrily.

“Ya know what they say bout drinkin’ alone dontcha?” Merle teased, raising his eyebrow comically.

“No what?” She retorted, her lip curled into a sneer. Merle couldn’t get over how sexy she was while being a bitch. He wanted to suck on her snarling lip, maybe even bit it until she squirmed.

“That it’s boring as fuck.” He spoke plainly then suggested, “Now how ‘bout I buy ya another ‘n we go play a round of pool.”

Rolling her eyes, the woman threw back the last of her drink and conceded, “I’m not one to turn down free booze. Pony up old man.”

“Hey now! I ain’t no old man. Sugar.”

“It’s Sam not Sugar and I don’t give a shit s'long as you’re payin’.” She responded before sliding off the barstool and sauntering over to the pool tables. Merle watched her sexy ass sway over to the green felt tables and lean a curved hip against the edge. Two men were playing and only half way through the game when she batted her gorgeous blue eyes at them. Merle snorted as he watched them trip over themselves to set the table up for her and get her a cue.

“She looks more dangerous than you Dixon.” Martinez commented setting down another round of drinks.

“Pfft. I’ll take ‘er home by last call.” Merle rasped with a cocky grin, adding, “Bet ya tonight’s tab she walks out on my arm.”

Chuckling the bartender nodded, “A'right I’ll take that bet and a counter, I bet she lays you out flat when ya try.”

Rolling his eyes Merle joked, “Ain’t no girl knockin’ a Dixon out. Got a jaw of steel.”

Walking away with their drinks he met up with Sam at the tables. The two men currently trying their hand at winning the blonde over gave him the stink eye when he handed her another drink.

“Bout fucking time. I’m going crazy listening to these numb nuts try and teach me how to play pool.”

“Well ya heard the lady boys, fuck off and find some other cooze to hassle.” Merle dismissed the men, giving them a cocky sneer.

“Are you calling me a cooze?” She asked with a irritated wrinkle in her forehead.

“Well ya got a nice pair of tits 'n I’m just assumin’ but I bet ya got a nice slice of pie too. So yeah cooze.”

“I’m gonna need a whole lot more alcohol to put up with your shit Merle.” Sam sighed before gulping her latest drink. “Better keep your tab open.”

“My pleasure, now get your sexy ass over there and break.”

Sam took the cue from the table and stood at the end, her lithe body leaning over to break the triangle formation of balls. He licked his bottom lip, biting it almost bloody as her shirt dipped showing off delicious looking cleavage. The thought of licking up the curve and biting down on the narrow column of her neck had Merle adjusting his jeans. He watched as she broke the table up, the balls spreading out and a solid falling into a corner pocket.

“Good girl,” he rasped, sipping his beer watching her move easily around the table. The woman was hot and could apparently play a mean game of pool because it took a few shots before Merle had a turn. He watched her lean casually against the table, her ass perched on the edge while she gulped the last of her drink.

“Should slow down Sugar. I want ya walking out on my arm not thrown over my shoulder.” He gave her a toothy grin while sinking a stripe into a pocket. Sam rolled her eyes and retorted, “Who says I’ll be leaving with you of all people.”

“Well you’re stickin’ around to play a game with me, drinking my booze.”

“So you buy me drinks and I owe you?” Sam sneered.

Chuckling while taking a shot he drawled, “Nah just means you’re enjoyin’ my company.”

Snorting she dead panned, “No it means I enjoy booze.”

Laughing gruffly Merle nodded while shrugging lazily. “S'pose so but ya coulda drank at the bar but now you’re playin pool with me.”

“So I like pool doesn’t mean you’re getting anywhere near my 'slice of pie’.” Sam imitated his drawl while repeating his catch phrase. Merle grinned and swaggered closer, his head cocking to the side as he approached drawling slow and thick, “I guaran-goddamn-tee you’d enjoy me being reeeal close to your pie. So much so you’d ache for me later.”

“Oh really?” She breathed clearing her throat and suggested, “maybe I’m a lesbian.”

“You? A carpet muncher?” Merle laughed gruffly, rubbing a hand over his rough jaw, “Nah. I got a feelin’ most broads don’ like ya. I see all the other cats hissing in the room. They don’t seem t'like the competition.”

“Yeah well maybe I don’t like sex at all. Maybe I’m celibate.”

“Doubt it.” He drawled, his finger curling in her belt loop, pulling her closer. He listened to her breathing kick up and watched her cheeks flush. He could feel the heat radiating off her as he rasped quietly, “Ya like sex. I can tell these things.”

“Pffft.” Sam huffed pushing him away while picking up his beer and taking a swig “Like booze more.” She muttered as she dropped another ball in a corner pocket.

They played two games, both of which Merle won by the skin of his teeth. Sam drank more than he thought possible for a woman her size and was still on her feet. Her words were slower but she was far from a slurring drunken mess. She either drank heavily often or had some super powers that burned off alcohol rapidly.

“I wanna dance.” She announced turning on her heel to saunter over to the jukebox. Merle watched her scan through all the different available tracks and drop a few coins in, her fingers pushing her choice.

The music picked up a guitar and horn sounding song with jazzy drums. It wasn’t something Merle would ever listen to, being more of a hard rock stereotypical redneck music fan. However it made Sam sway her little ass across the dance floor so it might be the best song Merle had ever heard. He felt his feet moving before his mind caught up, the idea of holding onto those supple curves while she gyrated intoxicated him.

“If you want trouble

You got it”

Merle had never heard a more accurate song lyric in all his life. Fucking hell he didn’t just want it, he needed it. He watched her turn as he approached, her eyes hooded and predatory, her hips swaying and dipping. Her hands were sliding up her curves and over her head, twisting together into her hair seductively. Reaching forward Merle grabbed her hips, his fingers curling under her belt to yank her against his front making her squeak and giggle. Merle grinned wolfishly at the sound, “C'mere Sugar. Wanna feel ya.”

“Said you been thinking all night about it

Well if you look you know where I’ll be”

Sam’s soft body stretched out along his broad frame. Her hands slid up his chest to grasp the back of his neck, her blunt nails scraping along the back of his head. He grunted at the overwhelming sensation and warned, “Careful girl.” Sam smirked at him while swirling her hips to the bass.

“If if you want trouble yeah, trouble

If you want trouble.”

Her damn blue eyes looked dark as pitch and the friction of her lithe body swaying against his had Merle rock hard.

“Sugar, ya got no fuckin’ idea how sexy ya are.” He drawled softly, his breath ghosting over the curve of her ear. His hand stroked its way to her lower back, fingertips sliding under the hem of her shirt to touch soft skin. Applying the barest of pressures had Sam plastered to his chest, a tiny gasp catching his ear. Merle didn’t dance and probably never would have but Sam had him shuffling with her to the music, her body curling around his. She let her hands drag down his broad shoulders, her nimble fingers touching the edges of his shirt sleeve. Merle swallowed thickly as his groin pulsed with need. She wasn’t doing anything sexual, just the warmth of her fingertips was enough to cause a throb inside him. Soon her hands were sliding along his stomach making his abs twitch until they curled into the leather of his vest, pulling him closer.

“You got moves old man.” She rasped, her voice low and breathy. Merle chuckled and whispered hoarsely “ya got no fuckin’ idea girl. No fuckin’ idea.”

Letting his lips graze the sensitive skin behind her ear Merle heard her panting, the sexy woman obviously as turned on as he was. The song slowed and eventually ended, leaving them standing there staring at each other, both sounding breathless.

“Let’s get outta here. Got some party favors back at my place.” Merle rasped hoarsely, ticking his head to the exit door as his fingers stroked her lower back. Sam hummed to herself, lips pursed slightly. He could see her tossing the idea around in her pretty little head before she responded, “I gotta make a stop first.”

“A'right.” Merle agreed quickly, anything to get her alone and with less clothing. He, gripped her hand and began pulling her out of the bar. Giving Martinez the one finger salute and a cocky grin, Merle hollered, “Thanks for the drinks Marty.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and he shook his bald head while drying a pint glass. “Fuck you Dixon.”

The couple headed outside to Merle’s motorcycle as Sam looked at him dubiously. “Are you too drunk to drive this thing without killing me? I kinda like having skin on my face.” She asked with a worried expression.

Merle chuckled, “Girl I’ve been ridin’ drunk since before you were a twinkle in you pa’s eye.”

“First off, there ain’t been no twinkle in my sperm donors eye in his whole goddamn life and you aren’t that much older than me.”

“A girl with daddy issues, surprise surprise.” He muttered before asking, “How old are then?”

He climbed on and held an arm out to help her balance. Sam swung her leg over and replied, “22.”

“Well I got a dozen years on ya, girl.” Merle replied, his eyebrows raised.

“Fuck off Merle.” She sneered playfully.

“Ya always a bitch?”

“Nah. Just to assholes like you.” She quipped from behind him, her arms squeezing him tightly.

Merle could tell she was smiling and didn’t let her rude words effect him. Instead he chuckled and drawled, “A'right where to, smart ass?”

“Fifth and main.”

Merle cocked an eyebrow at the location. His dealer was located at fifth and main but it seemed odd for her to know Crowley. He’d never seen her in town before, let alone hanging out at that low life’s place.

“What ya gotta do there?”

“Just dropping something off.” She answered vaguely, “Sooner we get 'er done the sooner we can relax for the evening.”

Merle could picture her eyebrow cocked suggestively, her lip bitten pink. Kick starting the bikes engine they peeled out fast and hard, gravel spitting out behind them. Ten minutes later they pulled up to fifth and main and sure enough she strolled towards Crowley’s. “Stay here.” She told him as she slide off the bike expertly.

“I don’t think ya should go in there alone darlin’.”

“Stay here.” She repeated over her shoulder without a backwards glance.

Merle watched her lean against the doorframe and knock, waiting for the scumbag to answer. When the door opened Crowley looked irritated at first but then frightened. Merle climbed off instantly but watched in rapt attention as Sam punched he dealer in the face and pushed him back inside. Merle jogged up the steps and made it inside before she kicked the door closed.

“I said stay outside,” Sam growled before pulling out a handgun from her purse.

“Jesus sugar. Whatcha doin’?”

“Dropping off a message.” She growled, her gun aimed at the dealer’s head.

Crowley was sitting on the staircase holding a bloodied nose. Sam stood in front of him and spoke evenly and calmly. “Now Fuckhead, I’m sure you’re aware of why I’m here…”

The lowlife drug dealer nodded and mumbled through his hand, “Yeah. Look I’m sorry.”

“Fuck your sorries. He wants his fucking money. Not next week, not tomorrow. Right fucking now.”

“I don’t…”

“You do. Don’t lie you nutless bitch. I didn’t travel 100 miles to the armpit of Georgia for no goddamn reason.” She growled kicking him in leg, “now get your dumb fucking ass up and take me to your hideyhole and get me the fucking money.”

Crowley sighed and crawled to his feet, pushing himself up with a groan. Merle stood there shocked at the dramatic change in events. He’d planned on getting high and fucking the day lights out of Sam but now Merle stood as she threatened some assholes life for some kinda of crime boss.

“Stay Merle. I fucking mean it.” She ordered following the guy into the back of the house. Merle stood there feeling awkward for the first time in a long time. He wasn’t used to being bossed around but the bitch had a gun and didn’t seem to mind threatening people with it. Moments later he heard her returning, her gun tucked away and her bag slung heavily over her back.

“Don’t try this again Crowley or I’ll come back and be less than nice to you.”

“Ok, ok. I promise.”

“Fuck off.” She mumbled walking out of the house and towards his bike. Merle looked back at his dealer and drawled, “Hey man, I didn’t know she was… Whatever she is.”

“Run from that bitch Merle. She’s a goddamn psycho.”

They pulled up in front of Merle’s apartment complex and climbed off the bike. Merle looked her over and watched as she pulled out a cigarette and lit up, blowing smoke to the side. He took her offered smoke and cupped the flame of her lighter, inhaling slow and deep. Staring at Sam he spoke through his exhale, “So who are ya and whaddya do?”

Rolling her eyes she teased, “I’m Sam and I pick things up and drop things off.”

Snorting he drawled, “No shit. Who do ya work for?”

“A boss just like everybody else. I’m not here to fucking gossip Merle.” She responded before flicking her spent butt away and tilting her head towards the building, “We going in or am I calling a cab?”

Merle sucked the last of his smoke away and dropped it to the ground. He strolled inside, climbing the narrow stairway with Sam following him. They got to his door and he unlocked it, ushering her in first. His brother was drinking a beer and watching some program about cars. Daryl’s narrowed eyes took in the sight of Sam and then his eyes land on Merle. He could see his little brother was shocked at the quality of girl he brought home. Merle was the first to admit he didn’t have high standards of the quality of his pussy, he was a quantity not quality type guy. Sam was not only beautiful but she had turned out to be quick as a whip and unafraid to trade barbs. It didn’t even piss him off when she jabbed back at him. It was refreshing. Not to mention he now knew she was straddling the line of the law just like him.

“I don’t do three ways Merle if that’s your plan.” She snarked throwing her bag onto the chair by the couch. Daryl’s eyes widened and he looked like he was going to run away.

“Don’t worry bout Daryl. He ain’t no ladies man.” Merle rasped heading into the kitchen to grab a couple beers. Daryl huffed out an angry breath at Merle’s comment but didn’t respond. Sam however spoke up, “Why the fuck not? He’s the better looking brother.”

Merle stomped out and growled, “Now that’s fuckin’ bullshit and mean.”

Sam snorted, “What? He is, maybe I wanna trade up.”

“Sugar I bought fucking drinks all night. Ya ain’t swapping brothers.”

“First off I don’t owe you shit for buying me drinks all night. Second you didn’t even fucking buy them, you won a bet on if I’d leave with you sooooo technically my ass bought the goddamn drinks.”

Daryl watched them argue before picking up his beer and strolling into his room, his door shutting with a resounding click.

Sam smirked and asked, “He always shy?”

Nodding Merle flopped down on the other side of the sofa he asked, “So come on, who do ya work for?”

Huffing out an indignant breath, “No offense but fuck off. I’m not telling you shit.”

Merle rasped, “Sugar, ya owe me an answer.” Laughing she took a gulp of beer and sighed, “I don’t owe you shit.”

“Crowley’s my connection, he ain’t gonna be too pleased with me now. Ya owe me.”

Rolling her eyes Sam sipped her beer before stating, “I work for his boss. I take care of some deliveries. Messages or packages. I’m not telling you names and shit.”

“Fine. How the fuck did ya get involved in this shit?”

“Crowley’s boss is… was my boyfriend.”

Merle eyes widened and he shot up, “What the fuck?! Ya didn’t tell me ya got an old man let alone some fuckin’ drug lord.”

“Pfft. Drug lord my ass. The guys an asshole who I’m dumping now that I got cash to take off with.”

Furrowing his brow he drawled, “So what, you’re takin’ Crowley’s money and runnin’?”

“Yeah. So no worries about him coming after you, he’ll be too busy chasing me.” Sam joked but he could see the strain behind her mask.

“He gonna come after ya?”

“Well I’m stealing from him and dumping his stupid ass.”

“Where ya goin’?” Merle asked wondering if she actually had a plan of if she was just winging it.

“Don’t know. North. Tired of this shit hole state.”

Merle hummed the knowledge and leaned back chugging his beer. Setting it to the side he pat his lap an rasped, “C'mere Sugar. Let’s celebrate your last night in town.”

Sam smirked and set her bottle down asking, “Where are these party favors?”

“Whatcha want? Weed, a lil crystal or oxys?”

Sam snorted, “Weed. I like my teeth and Oxys are for fucking hillbillies.”

Merle glared at her and drawled, “Fuck you.”

“That’s the goal right?” She quipped pulling off her boots and tossing her jacket to the side. Merle got distracted as she sat back down, her shirt highlighting her curved tits and narrow waist.

“Gonna just stare at me all night old man? Ya havin a stroke?”

“God you’re such a bitch.” He muttered pulling out his weed stash from the coffee table. He packed the tiny bowl and handed it over with a lighter. He watch Sam pull a deep hit, her eyes closed as she held it for a few seconds. Her eyes slide open as she blew the pungent smoke to the side. Handing it back Merle took a deep pull and relaxed back into the sofa. After a few passes the bowl was spent and the pair were zoning out. Merle’s head lolled to the side and he saw her smirking at him.

“What?”

“I was lying.” She stated with a tiny grin.

Raising an eyebrow he drawled, “Bout what?”

“Trading up.”

Smiling widely he asked, “Oh yeah? He ain’t better looking?”

“I didn’t say that I just meant I wouldn’t trade up. I kinda like your big mouth. He’s too quiet.” She joked with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Pffft. Such a twat.”

Sam laughed loudly and sighed, “I love that word. Twwwwwat.”

Merle snorted and reached out, pulling on her wrist. Sam crawled over to straddle his lap. He groaned as her ass pressed against his semi. She cocked an eyebrow and the rolled her hips against his obvious arousal making him moan loudly, his head falling back against the couch cushion.

“What? Been showin’ off your tits, which by the way ya got a nice set on ya.” He slid his hands up her ribs, his large palms cupping her breasts as his thumbs ran across her nipples. Merle felt them harden under his touch making his hands flex, squeezing her chest firmly. Sam moaned leaning forward, her mouth delving into his. Merle cupped the back of her head, tangling his fingers into her blonde hair. He pulled her closer, fisting the soft locks as he ravaged her mouth. “Goddamn you taste good.” He groaned, his hips thrusting upwards in between her thighs.

“Mmhhm.” She moaned, pulling back to strip her shirt off. Merle growled at the sight of her full creamy tits almost overflowing out of a see-through black lace bra.

“Jesus Sugar. Your tits should be illegal.” His hands stroked her shoulders before curling his fingers under the straps of her bra, dragging them down her arms. The cups of her bra fell and out poured her pale breasts. Merle groaned before cupping her, his mouth sucking and biting the delicate curve of her tits before sucking her pink nipple into his hot mouth. Sam moaned at the motions, her hips rolling against his lap. He couldn’t help but thrust upwards, his hands gripping her hips to push her down against his rock hard cock.

“Fucking Christ Sugar.” He muttered, moving his mouth up her neck until he reached her swollen lips. Their tongues battled for control as their hands gripped onto each other. Merle wrapped his arms around her waist before standing up to head to his room. Sam secured her legs around his body and braced her arms across his shoulders. He grasped her ass, his fingers kneading the flesh as he walked, his mouth nipping and sucking on her neck. Once in his bedroom he tossed her onto the bed making her giggle.

Merle smirked and pulled his shirt off, his hands going to his belt instantly. He watched as she unhooked her bra and then peeled off her ridiculously tight pants. She was completely naked, spread out across his mattress. He drank her in, the soft line of her thighs and dip of her waist. Her hair was splayed out on the dark sheets like some kind of angelic temptress. She was so goddamn beautiful Merle could barely keep his hands from grabbing her like a desperate crackhead on payday looking to score.

“Fucking christ you’re sexy.” He rasped stepping out of his jeans. Crawling onto the bed over her, Merle let his nose graze her thigh and waist. His tongue tasting her warm skin and his teeth nipping along the way. Sam moaned as Merle’s large palms stroked and squeezed her ass while rutting against her wet heat.

“Fuck old man, you still have moves.” She groaned as he placed open mouth kisses along her neck before sucking and biting her earlobe.

Merle chuckled, rolling his hips between her spread thighs. “Ain’t done anything yet girl. M'gonna make you scream my name Sugar.”

Sam kissed him deeply, her tongue sliding against his while her hands gripped his neck. Merle was drowning in her scent and taste. She was a siren and he couldn’t help but want to fall to his knees and worship every fucking inch of her.

“Please… more.” Sam begged, her legs wrapping around his waist to squeeze him closer. Merle groaned as his overheated skin slid against her wet lips.

“Fuck. Lemme. Git somethin’.” He growled his accent thick and slow, pulling away to get a condom. Merle hated to do it but he wasn’t getting Sam knocked up or giving her something from his checkered past.

Soon he was sitting back on his heels to watch his cock slid inside her tight body. Merles mouth dropped open as he panted, the sight of her engulfing him was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

“Jesus.” he gasped while rocking into her slowly. Sam’s whole body arched off the mattress and a deep flush crawled up her chest to her cheeks.

“Oh my god.” She moaned her nails biting into his shoulders, red marks blossoming on his tan skin. “Fuck.. Merle. Move goddamnit. ”

Laughing he began rocking faster, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. Merle clenched his jaw and his neck muscle strained at the intense sensation of her hot walls sucking him in. “Sugar. How the fuck…” He panted, sweat dripping along his temple, “are you so.. goddamn… tight.”

Sam laughed breathily, her pelvis rising off the bed to meet his snapping hips. He couldn’t figure out what was overwhelming him more, her tight hot walls or the look in her eyes. The deep blue was almost non existent with her blown pupils. A sharp gasp exited her parted lips before every muscle in her lithe frame seized. The tension snapped and Sam came harder than any woman Merle had ever felt. Her walls gripped his dick by the root making him growl like a feral animal. The sounds she was making made his eyes roll back in his head.

“Mother of..” He groaned while plunging as deep as physically possible, his body bowed over her. His jaw snapped shut as brilliant light flashed behind his clenched eyes. Within moments his body released, his cock pulsing and throbbing, every muscle and bone becoming gelatinous.

Blood pounded in his ears as he blinked sweat out of his eyes. Sam was panting, her hooded gaze looking thoroughly satisfied.

“Well fuck.” She muttered letting out a snort. Merle cocked an eyebrow and rasped hoarsely, “Whatcha laughin at.”

“I guess age brings experience yeah?”

Barking out a dry laugh Merle rolled off of her and reached for his cigarettes. “Bes’ not question my prowess again Sugar, I’ll tan that sexy ass.”

Sam’s laugh was a combination of a giggle and a snort. Obnoxiously cute. Merle couldn’t stop from trying to make her do it just to hear it again. He’d never spent much time with a woman after sex, it was a new situation but not unpleasant. They lay together tangled in sheets chatting about nothing and everything.

“I swear t'christ I never seen so much blood come outta a guys nose before.” He chuckled finishing up an anecdote about a bar fight. Sam smirked and crawled over him, straddling his hips. “My big tough redneck.” She purred with a playful glint in her eye. Merle chuckled gripping her face to pull her mouth to his. He twirled his tongue against her, the taste of her sweet mouth filling his.

“Fuck old man you know how to kiss.” She moaned as his mouth trailed along her soft neck.

“Girl ya haven’t even felt these lips between those soft thighs yet..” He drawled, trailing his tongue down the curve of her collarbone. “Got no idea the things I can do to ya.”

“Fuck Merle.” She moaned at the statement, her hips rolling against his. “Show me… Please.”

Muffling a laugh against her chest Merle rasped, “since ya said please.”

Merle woke to the smell of something cooking and the thump of a cabinet door. He wrinkled his brow looking at the mattress to see it empty. Rolling out of bed he pulled on a pair of boxers and tank top before sauntering into the kitchen. Sam was standing at the stove cooking potatoes and some kind of meat. She was wearing his beat up flannel that landed mid thigh and nothing else. He licked his lip at the sight of her bare legs and the memory of what was underneath the worn cotton.

Daryl was sitting at the table his head resting against wall as he watched her cook. Merle cocked an eyebrow and asked, “whatcha cooking? We don’t got shit here.”

She smirked and snarked, “yeah I noticed, you two live on pizza and beer Huh?”

Laughing Merle walked up behind her, his hands sliding along her hips and his chin resting on her shoulder. Looking down he saw she had found some frozen venison and was making a hash with potatoes.

“You had two potatoes and some kind meat. Deer?”

Grunting in response he reached over to grab a piece but she smack his hand with the spoon and snapped, “Hands off old man.”

Daryl snorted and got the stink eye from Merle for it. “Bes stop calling me old man after last night.”

Laughing she bumped him with her hip to reach the cupboard with plates. Sam served them both a pile of meat and hash before giving herself a smaller portion. They sat at the tiny card table eating silently.

“So what’s on the agenda then? Ya skippin town?” Merle asked wiping his hand across his mouth when done. Sam shrugged and mumbled through a mouthful of food, “yeah. S'pose I should high tail it the fuck out of here soon. Words Gonna get back I picked up cash.”

Daryl’s face looked confused but he didn’t ask. Merle rolled his eyes and drawled, “Sam here is on the run.”

Before he could explain the sound of a phone ringing in the living room had Sams fork pause mid bite. Standing up she grabbed her bag, pulling out the black device. Pursing her lips she answered, “ lo”?“

Merle watched her roll her eyes as the person spoke and answer, “I needed a couple days to myself. I picked up and I’ll be back tomorrow night probably.”

There was a long pause while she listened before she snapped, “well I don’t give a fuck. I’m not some goddamn house pet.”

Merle looked at Daryl who asked, “Who she runnin from?”

“Some drug dealer, she fucking rolled Crowley last night for money.”

Daryl’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at the statement. “Ya just watch?”

“What could I do? She had already punched him and had him at gunpoint.”

“Jesus Merle whatcha getting involved in this shit.”

“You seeing what I’m seeing baby brother? Look at that fucking ass and let me tell ya she knows what to do with those goddamn curves.”

“Yeah I heard.” He muttered finishing his food. Merle chortled at the statement and went back to listening to her. The conversation had cooled off and she was placating the boyfriend, “alright. I’ll call you tonight and be home tomorrow evening.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She muttered hanging up without a goodbye.

Strolling back into the kitchen she sat down and drawled, “well I’m gonna head out soon. Can I get a ride back to my car?”

Merle rode over to the bar with Sam wrapped around him, her hands splayed across his taut stomach. She was drawing small circles along his tshirt making his jeans tighten and groin ache. He didn’t want her to leave yet which was an odd feeling to have since he didn’t give a shit about most people. It had always been him and Daryl against the world and the idea that he wanted more was foreign.

As they pulled up they found that her car was gone and there was a pile of broken glass where her window had been busted out.

“Well fuck.” She muttered climbing off the bike. “That sucks.”

Merle laughed at her bored tone, “could say that again. We reporting it to the cops?”

“Fuck no. It wasn’t even mine.”

“What do you mean?”

“I stole it a few towns over,” she confessed shrugging while pulling out a pack of smokes, “guess I’m looking for a new ride.”

Merle barked out a gruff laugh, taking her offered smoke and drawled, “I’m thinkin’ ya may be trouble, Sugar.”

Sam smirked while exhaling, her lips curled and eyes bright, “You’ve got no fucking idea how right you are, old man.”

[mshellbrat]

Hey guys! Never tried one of these prompts before but I woke up this morning and this just came to me and I had to write it. I figured I would give it a shot. I didn't even actually intend to post it, but my sister liked it so I figured...why not? The idea is sort of a weird nod to an old movie called "The Jacket" that I LOVED and absolutely recommend. It has a weird little supernatural twist to it, but then I love the supernatural. It gets a little angsty, but has a hopeful ending. 

So this is my first contribution to the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon. I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear what you think! :-)

Summary:  When life gets hard, sometimes it's easier to close your eyes and make it all go away. For Felicity sleep has become a thing of the past. When she closes her eyes these days something else happens...somewhere else happens...and it will be up to her team to figure out what's going on and pull her back from the edge.

Rating: T (for language and what could be considered suicidal thoughts)

Prompt: Sleepless

It all started the night after Tockman. She was drugged up and so tired and she laid down to sleep, but then she just didn't...she went...somewhere else. Felicity felt it happen. Her mind just drifted away somehow. She watched herself float away from her own body and then she was flying through a swirl of colors and foreign images and then like a rubber band pulling tight she just snapped...back into her body.

Except...this wasn't HER body. She knew that somehow. She was sitting in her chair behind her station at the lair...except this wasn't their lair. It was different. But then Oliver was barking in her ear and information flooded through her brain and she knew what she had to do. Her fingers danced across the keyboard and she scanned through the information and she fed her team the intel they needed. She pulled up the traffic cams and followed their target. She hacked the traffic lights and cleared their path. She called to warn Lance to be ready.

Thirty minutes later, they were piling down the stairs. Oliver first, a satisfied smile on his face and a wink in her direction. John followed close behind wearing a helmet that both puzzled her and yet seemed familiar and right. Then a red leather-clad body and Felicity battled both recognition and shock as Thea danced past her dropping a hand on her shoulder for a quick squeeze. Finally that familiar blonde wig and a black-leather suit, but this...this wasn't Sara. This was Laurel! The lawyer nodded and moved on and Felicity felt lost...and yet not. Everything felt both wrong and yet right...so startlingly right.

Somehow she found herself turning back to her station to finish up her work for the night. She needed to start those searches on Wilcox. Three businesses burning down in one year? They knew he was dirty. No one had THAT bad of luck. She lost herself in the data and silently ran code in her head for a new program she wanted to write. It would cut down their...

“Hey,” a warm familiar hand landed on her shoulder and she stopped and looked up. Oliver was smiling and looking down at her. “You ready to get out of here?”

Felicity frowned confused for a moment and pointed back to her monitors. “I was just...”

Oliver shook his head. He leaned down to kiss her forehead and Felicity froze as her entire body went cold then hot. Her mouth dropped open. “You've got the searches running. We don't need to be here for that. Wilcox will still be here tomorrow. I want to go home.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I believe we're stocked up on mint chip and wine.”

Felicity clambered up from her chair and faced him. She knew her mouth was still gaping open. “Oliver?”

He cupped her cheek in his hand and frowned. “You okay?”

“You know,” Thea's voice sounded from behind them as she reappeared with Laurel trailing her both dressed in their street clothes, “you two are damn near depressing for us single ladies to watch. That much fluff is supposed to be reserved for bad romcoms.”

Laurel snorted. “Speak for yourself.” She cocked her head to the side and her smile dripped venom at Oliver. “I dated him. That's a bad trip I never want to relive.” She nodded again to Felicity and headed back for the stairs.

Oliver winced as he watched her go. Thea grinned at her big brother. “I like her so much better now that she's straight-up bitchy and not passive aggressive.”

Felicity nodded. “Me too.” Oliver threw her a mock-betrayed look and she couldn't help but snicker and shrug.

The man she loved finally smiled in acknowledgment, then pulled her close and tilted down to rest his forehead against hers. “You, me, Netflix?” Felicity nodded happily.

Thea scoffed in disgust. “Just make sure you two aren't late for lunch tomorrow, Felicity. I'm counting on you,” she reached out to poke Oliver in the shoulder, “cause I know him.” She spun on her heel and walked away, but waved at them over her shoulder. “I'm out.”

Oliver ran his hand over her back. He tilted further down and then his lips settled over hers and Felicity melted...

A blaring noise woke her up and Felicity gasped reaching for her phone on the nightstand. She felt breathless and jittery and so so tired. What time was it? She climbed out of bed, bumping her wound in the process of course, and hurried to get dressed. She was going to be late for work.

She was dragging as she scurried to her desk an hour later. Her hair was flat, she had shadows under her eyes, and she'd barely even convinced herself to bother with makeup. She gulped down a cup of coffee and pulled up Oliver's schedule for the day.

“Felicity?”

She couldn't even be bothered to look up at him. She just grunted and waved and kept typing. A part of her honestly didn't want to see him after that strange dream...or...whatever the frack it had been. Her mind revolted at the word dream. It hadn't been a dream...it had been real...so real...

“Hey,” Digg's voice sounded and Felicity forced herself to look in his direction. He was staring at her concerned. “You okay? You look exhausted.”

“Understatement,” Felicity told him, but she painted on as genuine a smile as she could. “I'll be fine. Just need to survive the day.”

He lifted his brows and crossed his massive arms over his chest. “You could ask for the day off. You are walking wounded. He owes you.”

Felicity waved away his concern. “I'm fine, John. I've been through worse on a coding-binge. Coffee is my friend.” And she focused back on her work and tuned out the world. She didn't even want to exist today. She wanted the day to be over and to climb back into bed.

Work ended and she headed to the lair. She plopped down into her chair and focused on the mission but she frowned as she found she'd typed the name Wilcox into her search frame. She backspaced it out and started over. Oliver and John arrived and she threw a hand at them over her shoulder, but didn't bother to look back. She heard Sara's voice join the mix, but she just kept typing. She honestly couldn't care less what they were up to. They suited up, they headed out, and she fed them intel on auto-pilot.

As soon as Oliver called it, Felicity shut everything down, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door. She'd normally wait for them to return, but tonight she was over it. She wanted to sleep for a month. They'd survive...they always did.

Her head hit the pillow and she sighed in relief...finally...finally she could sleep.

Except she didn't. With a pop, Felicity was floating away again. She frowned abstractly at just how rough her body was looking. She really did look like hell. People needed sleep. It was kind of...required. If this didn't stop happening she might actually go insane. But then Felicity was rushing through flashes of color and images and snapping back toward a different body.

When she blinked, she wasn't tired anymore. She felt...alert and yet anxious. Then Oliver was handing her a glass of wine. “Here, you're tapping your foot. You need to relax.”

Felicity took a sip of wine and looked over her date with appreciation. Very few things were more appealing than Oliver in a tux. Of course, Oliver in his leathers definitely ranked so...yep, her man knew how to fill out some clothes.

Oliver smirked at her expression. “You haven't drank that much wine yet.”

She cocked a brow at him. “I don't need alcohol to objectify your body, mister. It's a talent.”

Pulling her close, Oliver ran his hand over the exposed skin of her back in the evening gown. “I'll let you objectify me all you want later, Felicity.”

“Yea,” John's voice sounded in their ears, “how about you two do that OFF comms?”

“Wilcox just entered,” Laurel said, “I'm moving in.”

The couple looked around to see Laurel walking slowly toward their target. She was dressed to draw attention and it was working. Wilcox stopped in his tracks at the sight of the gorgeous blonde. He spoke and Laurel frowned keeping in character. She turned to face him and moved to engage. As they traded banter and light flirtation, Felicity slipped her phone out of her pocket and waited for the signal. Laurel laughed and took the scumbag's hand as she let him lead her toward the dance floor. The lawyer slipped her hand around his neck and Felicity did a small fist pump as the bug came online and a dot started blinking on her phone. “Signal acquired. Good job, Canary.”

Oliver leaned close and ran his lips along the curve of Felicity's ear. “How about we bow out early?”

Felicity pursed her lips and pretended to consider it. “I could be persuaded.”

Oliver tugged at her earlobe with his teeth. “Then let me persuade you.”

“Felicity,” Thea's voice was annoyed, “not even you have enough money to pay for the amount of therapy both me and John are gonna need unless you get the hell off COMMS!”

Felicity winced, but Oliver just grinned and reached up to discreetly tap the comm in her ear turning it off. He quickly did the same with his own. Then he turned with his other hand still resting on her lower back and led her toward the doors. “Oliver, we are supposed to be professionals!”

Oliver shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Then you shouldn't have worn that dress.”

This time when she woke, she immediately tried to go back...she didn't want to be here...she wanted to go BACK!

Her phone was still blaring her alarm but Felicity didn't want to move. She didn't want to breathe. She tried to close her eyes and make it happen again. She growled in frustration as not only did she not pop outside of herself, but she couldn't even pass out and finally get some damn sleep. Giving up, she crawled out of bed and stumbled like a zombie toward her closet. Get through the day...she just had to get through the fracking day...

The pattern continued for two more weeks. Long miserable days of exhaustion and nights full of passion and hope and love. Felicity didn't know what was actually happening. She couldn't explain it and by this point she didn't even care. She was existing in this miserable life every day as she woke in her lonely bed and forced herself to walk through the motions. She was empty and numb and she just didn't care...because she knew the nights were coming. She knew she would close her eyes and this would all fade away. She'd be happy and fulfilled and loved. Oliver was waiting on her... her Oliver...not Laurel's or Sara's. And that was her reality now...that was what mattered...not this faded dull expanse full of pain and disappointment and loneliness.

She knew rationally a confrontation was imminent. She just didn't care. John tried to talk to her about it every single day. She nodded and told him she was fine and walked away. She was a big girl. He couldn't force her to confide in him. And Oliver? She didn't really look at Oliver anymore. She used email and the intercom. She fed him intel over comms without a problem. When she had no other option, she stared just over his shoulder and pretended. She never met his eyes...she didn't want to. The only pair of those eyes she wanted to meet were the ones shining with love for her. He was probably worried too. She'd heard him whispering with John. She just couldn't be bothered to confront them about it. They didn't understand...none of this MATTERED. She didn't care about the here anymore. This was only what she had to suffer through until she could get back there.

Even Sara knew something was very wrong. The woman tried to question Felicity about nightmares, about abuse, about possible eating disorders. Felicity wondered why Sara would possibly believe that she would pass over confiding in JOHN and instead spill her guts to a virtual stranger. She considered briefly just telling the blonde vigilante that the last person she wanted to share with was the woman fucking the man that she loved. Not that Felicity cared anymore. Sara could have him. Felicity had her own Oliver and she only had to endure and get back to the end of this pointless day to find him.

And then it came...

“Felicity,” John faced her holding a syringe full of some liquid in his hand, “you have to sleep. I don't want to do this, but you won't TALK to me! You have to sleep! You're sick!”

Oliver was on one side and Sara on the other. They had her boxed in like she'd try to escape. She wondered when they'd all gone stupid. Escaping would take energy and effort...and Felicity couldn't be bothered to summon either.

She canted her head to the side and stared balefully at John. “You're going to drug me now?”

“You have to sleep!” he said again.

And Felicity laughed. Her shoulders shook and she knew she was sort of hysterical, but really? Did he think it was going to be that easy? “It won't work, John,” she told him. “I have been sleeping...” but she paused because that wasn't actually true and she didn't feel like lying to him anymore, “or well...lying in bed and closing my eyes and losing consciousness anyway.” She shrugged. “You can inject me with that if you want. Hopefully you'll just get me there sooner.”

“Get you where?” Sara wondered.

Felicity sighed. “The other world...my other world...my real world maybe?”

“What are you talking about?” Oliver demanded. He stepped closer to Felicity and she jerked away instinctively. She didn't want him close to her. He wasn't her Oliver. “What other world, Felicity? THIS is your real world! What is going on?”

“I don't know,” Felicity told them honestly. “I can't really figure it out and I just don't care anymore.” She leaned toward John and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I like it better there.”

John frowned and tried to piece if all together. “You go to sleep...”

“I TRY to go to sleep,” Felicity corrected, “and then I just...go away. My body stays here and I don't know why it doesn't get any rest cause it's not like it's doing anything, but when I come back and wake up I'm still exhausted and I can't really think...” she frowned and stared down at the floor, “and I just stopped caring because this world's fail anyway.”

“Your mind isn't getting any rest,” Sara realized and maybe she was smarter than Felicity had given her credit for. “Whatever is happening to you, it's keeping your mind, your brain, from reaching REM sleep.”

“Okay,” Felicity nodded cause SURE...whatever. She pointed back to John. “But that still isn't going to work.” She held out her arm to her partner. “Feel free to try.” Hell, she hoped it knocked her on her ass. “My team's probably waiting on me right now,” she muttered.

“What TEAM?” Oliver growled.

“Ollie,” Sara warned, “take a beat. You're not helping.”

“She won't even LOOK at me!” Oliver forced.

Oh, he'd noticed that? Oops.

Felicity turned in his direction and carefully kept her eyes locked over his shoulder. “Sorry about that,” she told him. “It's just confusing and you're all you here and I just don't want to deal with it.”

“What do you mean he's all him here, Felicity?” Sara asked gently.

And suddenly Felicity felt really guilty. Because she knew, rationally, that none of this was Sara's fault. She had no reason to dislike Sara. Sara was awesome and badass and she didn't deserve Felicity's bullshit just because the IT nerd couldn't convince her stubborn heart to give up on Oliver. Sara would probably make a really awesome friend if Felicity...you know, CARED anymore...or actually wanted to be here at all.

“I mean he's all...he's YOUR Oliver here,” Felicity found herself telling the other blonde.

Sara's eyes were knowing. “And he's not my Oliver there?”

Felicity groaned and threw her hands in the air before bringing them to rub over her face. “I swear to god this is not me being pathetic! I didn't ask for this! It just happened,” she dropped her hands and stared at John mournfully, “and then it kept happening and I couldn't make it stop and I couldn't get any rest and then...” she felt her eyes sting and looked down, “then it was SO much better there! I fit there and I'm happy and...”

“And so why would you want to be here,” Sara realized.

Felicity shrugged.

“Felicity,” John stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, “we love you, girl. Don't you know that? We NEED you here. We have to fix this.”

Felicity shook her head panicked. “NO! No, there's nothing to fix!”

“Felicity this is killing you!” John forced. He took her face in his hands and made her meet his eyes. “You are fading away!”

And Felicity blinked and felt two tears escape to trail down her cheeks. She shrugged and tried to make him understand. “Well, maybe if I fade away here...I'll just stay there.”

And Oliver exploded. Felicity flinched as she heard crashes of metal and glass and animalistic growls and curses. “OLIVER!” Sara moved to contain him.

John kept his focus on his friend...his surrogate little sister. “We love you, Felicity. We can't let you go.”

Felicity closed her eyes and rested against him. “I love you too, John. I'm just so tired.”

“I know things are hard,” John told her, “and I know you're tired more than just physically. I'm sure that world is wonderful, Felicity, and I'm so glad you're happy there.” He hugged her close. “But you can be happy here, girl. You can't give up on us. You...you can't give up on him.” He looked down at her. “He needs you, Felicity. You are his light. And he can't do this without you...even if he's not ready to admit that yet.”

And Felicity finally admitted what she'd been desperately trying to hide. “My Oliver needs me too.”

John sighed and shook his head. “He has his own Felicity.” He notched his chin toward the commotion taking place behind her. “That's YOUR Oliver...and he's been losing his mind for weeks sick with worry over you, Smoak. He's burning up with self-hatred because he knew something was wrong and that it all came back to him.”

“It's not just about him,” Felicity insisted. But John hit her with his truth-detector stare. “Okay, it's mostly about him...but there are other things...other happy things.”

John nodded. “And you can have those happy things here just like you do there. It just takes time...and work.”

Felicity forced herself to push through the fog and think about that. And suddenly what he was saying made sense...too much sense. “I have to earn it,” she realized, “we have to earn it.”

“And we will,” John told her, “but you can't give up on us. You have to keep fighting. You have to stay here.”

Felicity took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She thought about her Oliver...she thought about her team...she thought about nights at home with mint chip and Netflix...about dancing with his hand sliding lower on her back...about Thea's sarcastic drawl and Laurel's rolling eyes...she thought about John, her rock, her big brother...and as more tears slid free to roll down her cheeks she silently let them all go...for now...she was determined it was only for now. She would get there again. They all would.

Forcing herself to feel, to really feel for the first time in weeks, Felicity opened her eyes again and looked back up at John. She nodded. “You need to take my blood before injecting me with that. Run it for any anomalies and we might need to send some off to S.T.A.R. Labs.”

“Okay,” he bent to kiss her forehead before stepping away and moving to gather his supplies.

Felicity sucked up her gumption and turned to face the rest of the room. She immediately scowled in outrage. She found Oliver facing off with Sara and stomped in his direction. She met his eyes...his wrecked, devastated eyes, and he froze. “YOU,” she pointed at him and wiggled her finger, “your hissy fit KILLED one of my babies, Oliver!” Now she pointed to the broken monitor laying on the floor. “And you better FIX IT...or I will paint your leathers and you can be the FUCHSIA Arrow!”

Sara barked out a laugh but Felicity could see the relief shining in blonde vigilante's eyes. “I'd buy that poster.”

But Oliver only stared at her. His eyes said he was sorry, that he was relieved, that was so grateful, that he...but Felicity knew they weren't ready to deal with any of that yet. She was still...well she was still whatever she was and they needed to get this figured out before they dealt with anything else. She and Oliver had time. And Felicity knew where they were going. She didn't care if she had to drag him there. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to drag him kicking and screaming to where he needed to be. She was starting to believe that was just her job.

“Felicity?” John's voice sounded behind her and Felicity finally broke their stare. She turned to look at her other partner. He lifted his brows. “You ready?”

And she decided that she was. She took in one more deep breath and blew it out as she stepped back into the fight. “More than. Let's get this done.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

@thebookjumper @olicityhiatusficathon

[flabbergabst]

Captain Canary Series: Against the Wind (12/13)

Amazing illustration as usual for this Chapter is drawn by @audiovizualna​​ and it could be viewed HERE or click http://audiovizualna.tumblr.com/image/158107644254 

Check it out to be able to visualize a scene in the story!

Story is also available in AO3 + precious chapters’ links available below:

Ch 1     Ch 2     Ch 3     Ch 4      Ch 5      Ch 6

Ch 7     Ch 8     Ch 9     Ch 10     Ch 11

Chapter 12: Fragrant Golden Dews

*Sara’s POV

I felt too tired to open my eyes so I began feeling the things that surround me. The air I’m breathing is cold. Something is covering me—a blanket, maybe. I can feel my feet void of my boots. I can’t feel the heavy leather on my body and was replaced by soft cotton. I tried moving my hands. One did, but my right hand was apparently occupied, being held softly by another calloused hand.

“Len?” I finally opened my eyes and stirred up a bit. I saw him sitting on a chair he must have pulled beside the medbay’s medical bed. He is understandably dozing off all the things that happened within the last 24 hours.

Looking around the room, she spotted a couch that was originally inside the Captain’s study. On it are Luke and Lily sleeping side by side. The crew must have placed the couch inside for my family to look after me.

So this must mean—everything’s over and…I missed the whole thing?!

“Leonard,” I said again, squeezing his hand tighter. “Wake up, honey.”

Len groaned and used his other hand to rub his eyes. “Sara? Are you okay? You’re awake?”

“No.”

I watched him smirk and shake his head slightly before standing up from his seat and moving next to me without taking his hand off of mine. “The snark is an indication that you’re fine. Now, how do you really feel?”

I placed my left hand on his cheek, caressing it. Len closed his eyes and leaned into my palm and kissed it. For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t look stressed. He looks relieved and just…relaxed. “I feel fine,” I replied. “Side doesn’t sting. I’m assuming Gideon healed it. But, god, my muscles are aching. I’m not as limber as I once was.”

“You still kicked ass, hon.” Leonard looked at the sleeping kids and then back to me, giving me a small smile. “It’s done, Sara. We can go home.”

I took that time to close my eyes and breathe. I swear I can see the Scrabble board laid out on our coffee table. I swear I can smell Len’s hot chocolate. I swear I can feel the blanket he draped on my shoulders.

“Tell me everything.”

We both asked Gideon not to inform the heroes about my recovery yet. I needed the time to know what happened. Besides, it seems like all of them are either resting in each other’s quarters, eating in the mess hall, or being complete nerds and discovering the Waverider further.

It took a while for Len to organize his thoughts, starting from the moment he carried me to the Waverider to what he heard from his comms. It also included stories from Ollie, Barry, and Mick which they shared to him while he’s waiting for me to regain consciousness.

He then started:

“Gideon helped in tracking the Legion inside the warehouse. They split themselves in three vantage points and left their minions scattered around to distract the rest of them from ganging up on them. The speedsters took on Thawne. The best possible course of action. Merlyn was already knocked out before I got to you, being taken care of by Oliver. The Legends took on Darhk. The rest of them, the archers, the shooters, all disabled the minion. Pretty neat plan by Mick.”

“He was a thief. Of course he makes the best plans,” I immediately replied with a smile on my face, feeling incredibly proud of one of my best friends.

Len was shortly interrupted by Luke’s light snores. We both turned our heads towards the couch to check on them and sure enough, they’re still deep in their slumber.

He looked at me once more and tilted his head. “According to Barry, which may not be 100% true, he took Thawne down. Finally. Kid Flash went in first, circling Thawne and in every attempt from Thawne to pass through, Jessie would bring him back in the speed circle. I’m not exactly sure if what happened next is true but he claimed that some speed ghosts of some sort detected the high concentration of speed in the location. Turns out, they’re after Thawne. Barry barely had to do anything and poof, one of the Legion gone. He mentioned that it was all for Eddie. You remember when Snow told us about him?”

“Yes. His death was now not done in vain. And Barry helped a lot, hon,” I told him. “You have to admit it at least once.”

“Okay, fine. He deserves a lot of thanks,” Leonard said. “Who’d you want to know about next?”

“Merlyn. You said Ollie had him?”

Len sighed and then continued. “Raymond and Cisco devised a plan to knock down Merlyn. The plan needed me to go head-to-head with him so I could trap him on a dead-end and create an ice wall, so they could pump in gas to knock him out. Queen arrived and told me to just get on with it. Kill the bastard for killing you. I said that isn’t my call to make. It’s theirs. His and his sisters. Queen refused to tell me details so I went to Thea. Her brother put an arrow on Merlyn. She said she made a speech prior to that—telling Merlyn that he was never her father, Robert Queen was.”

“That’s very brave of her,” I replied. Thea has always told me how much she admires how Leonard is to our kids. It was something he never got from Malcolm, but something she received unparalleled from the person she knows is her father.

“The Legends came for Darhk,” Leonard continued. “Raymond and Firestorm got him cornered. Nate knocked him down but it was Mick who killed him. Burned him like he burned Savage…”

Before Leonard could finish, Mick entered the medbay with a box of doughnuts on one hand.

“I did a little speech, too,” the man said, extending his arm for me to be able to take the box from him. “Told him he messed up with my family one too many times. Haircut didn’t even try and stop me. Bastard went out screaming.”

“That’s dark,” Leonard replied, grabbing the box from me and placing it on the bed-side table.

“He deserves it. Now all four of you can go back home and be a normal family.”

When Mick left the medbay, we took time for ourselves to reunite and to assure us that both of us are alive. Leonard was in the middle of telling me an overly-exaggerated version of how he heroically carried me and rushed to the kids to check that they’re safe when we both heard a shuffling from the couch across us.

Lily woke up first, rubbing her eyes with a small pout I adore so much.

“Hey baby.”

“Mommy?”

Lily looked at me, then at Lenny, as if asking if what she’s seeing is true.  

“Come over here, little bird. I think Mommy wants to say hi,” Leonard said, holding my hand and squeezing it.

Lily shook Luke’s shoulder, making our eldest stir. She then removed the jacket Len draped over them, letting it fall on the floor. She took her time walking to the bed I’m in. And from the lights overhead, I can see unshed tears glimmering in her eyes. Her little feet slowly brought her near, her lips shaking, a pout forming.

I had to hold back my tears right then and there. I could only imagine how the last few hours went for the kids from having to leave the ship to waiting whether or not their parents would ever go back to them.

Lil stopped beside Len. He then grabbed her by the sides and lifted her up to sit on my bedside. I followed her eyes to where it landed on my arms, seeing bruises and cuts. There’s warmth in my stomach that crept up to my throat. Tears blurred my vision and all I can feel was Leonard’s hand holding and squeezing mine.

“Are you okay, Mommy?”

And that did it. I stopped trying to hold the tears back. My little girl, asking me if I’m okay. It should be me asking them that.

“We were worried, Mommy,” Luke finally said, rushing to my other side. His eyes are still puffy from sleeping and crying.

“I’m okay, Lucky,” I replied, my free hand running over his dark hair. “You two okay?”

Luke nodded. “Uncle Rip looked after us after Daddy went to get you back. He kept asking Gideon to play movies for us but Lil and I can’t really focus. We were waiting for Daddy to bring you back. I’m glad he did. We were worried, Mommy. But is it done now? Is it finished? Are we gonna go home now?”

I smiled and looked over to Leonard. He’s already looking at me and nodded.

“I still have some people to thank,” I replied, “but I guess, yeah. We’re going home.”

Mick gathered everyone at the Waverider bridge so the heroes could go back to their respective cities. Rip helped Gideon set a shield of some sort to put the effects and harshness to the time-jump since the ship can’t seat all twenty four of us.

People slowly piled in, some of them taking a seat, some just strolling around, leaning on banisters.

“We’re off to Star City first. Your city needs your mayor. Then we’ll go to Central and bring the Snarts home,” Mick typed in the coordinates and turned to face me, giving me a wink. “Legends, we’ll bring Rip back to his fancy white office and I’m taking requests for our next stop. We need a goddamn break from—“

“Words. Kids,” Leonard drawled from behind me.

“Sorry. Ready to roll?”

I stepped up and touched Mick’s arm. “Can I say something before we go?”

Mick nodded and whispered, “Anything for this ship’s previous captain.”

 I stepped up and cleared my throat. My heart is trumping and only when I looked at Leonard did I found my voice again.

“Hey everyone…

I just want to…I really want to, um. Thank you. Just…thank you. All of you. For even coming in and helping us. It’s been years since we thought we took care of the Legion and I know you all have your own lives and problems in your own cities and, um…

Yeah.

Rip, thank you for coming in. Thank you for babysitting the kids, too.

(“I looked after them, not babysit…”)

Barry, thank you for doing this for us. Len still won’t admit it but we’re really thankful. We couldn’t do this without you. You had to leave Iris with the twins and that’s a huge sacrifice to make. Thank you.

Caitlyn, I know you’ve been trying to control your powers for the longest time and you used them to help us.

Cisco. You and my husband have been annoying each other for as long as I remember but you’re still willing to help us.

(“I did it for the kids…”)

No, you did it for Lisa. She would kick you out of your house if you didn’t help her niece and nephew and her brother and his wife. She’d probably call off your wedding, too.

(“That’s 100% true.”)

Wally and Jessie, thank you to the both of you. It would be Wells and not the Legion who’d kill me and Len if we don’t bring you back safe.

Rene, Rory, Eve, you have been too kind to our family. As much as Star City needs you, you three still came to help.

Curtis, thank you for sharing your brain. You, too, Felicity. You probably didn’t want to leave your kids with Lyla but I know you. You can’t resist a good adventure.

Dig. Remember the first time we argued? I told you I didn’t need your back-up. I told you that your training is like kindergarten compared to the League. But from then until now, you keep proving me wrong. How can I even start thanking you?

(“Anything for you, Sara.”)

Thea, I know you’re busy, being Mayor and all, and that you’ve long been retired from this action...I mean, most of us are…but you’re still here, wearing the same red leathers. I know my kids will look up to you. I know I do.

(“I need a break from the office anyways. This is a great change.”)

And Ollie…

(“I know.”)

I know you do. I also know my husband has plans of drinking with you. Now, you’re a tough guy and all but like Mick, I could easily drink you under the table. Len could pretty much do the same. Just saying. He has is ways of saying thank you. This is mine.

And my dear Legends. Oh, where would we be without all of you.

Nate, not once have you said no to us. You know by now that Len and I are very much ready to return the favor anytime.

(“No biggie.”)

God, Amaya, if you were ever hurt while saving my ass, Mick would never let me on the Waverider again. Thank you.

(“Mick would never do that, you know.”)

Martin. You haven’t been on board since we figured out how Jax could become Firestorm on his own. I know you said you want to spend all of your days with Lily and Clarissa and that your days as time-traveller has ran its course but you’re still here. Doing it again for us. My kids adore you, you know? For that alone, Len and I are incredibly thankful. But for the both of us to find friendship with you and your wife is extremely beyond me. We haven’t had our Saturday dinner ritual ever since chaos began again. I promise we’ll host this time.

(“There’s nothing more I look forward to than that, dear.”)

Ray, you’re a hero. You’ve always been a hero from the moment I met you and I will always look at you as the hero who helped saved my family.

(“Are you seriously crying, Haircut?”)

I am incredibly proud of you, Jax. Do you know that Len used to talk about you all the time? He’d tell me how proud he is of you. How much he has learned from you and how much you taught him things he wished he had known at your age. And the little kids clinging on to you now are proof of how grateful our family is.

(“Anything for these little ones.”)

And Mick…

(“It’s nothing, Blondie.”)

No, it’s not nothing, Mick. You’ve always said you’re helping us because you owe Leonard and I a lot but that has long been repaid. Long before we even got married. Now we owe you our lives. We’re here because of you. Because you took care of us, you called all of them in, you hid us and fought for us. You fought with us. I’ll forever be indebted to you and please know that if the day comes you want to hang your Heatgun…there’s a room in Central City waiting for you with fresh sheets and six-pack of beer on the bedside table. We love you, Mick.

(“Of course I’d do that for all of ya. You’re my family.”)

(“Everybody knows you’re an honorary Snart,” Leonard said.)

Thank you, everyone.

Len, hon, I love you with all that I have. And kids, how does going back to Central sound like?”

Windows were shattered and the doors were left unlocked. The inside isn’t really that different. Picture frames were knocked down and the TV was on the floor. My first reaction was maybe we were mugged while we’re away but then Len saw boot tracks of what appears to be similar to what the Legion’s minions wore.

Of course they dropped by our house.

The only thing that keeps my cool at the sight of our trashed house is the fact that I know we got out before the Legion arrived here. That would’ve been the end of the four of us.

“What the f---“, Mick exclaimed upon coming out of the jumpship.

“Rory, language,” I had to swat his arm upon his cussing.

“To be honest,” Len said as he scanned the house, “I’m not really bothered. We’re all safe, that’s all that counts.”

Lily tugged my right arm and I lifted her up to let her position herself on my hips. “How about our stuff, Mommy?”

“Do we have to but new things?” Luke peered beneath Len, scanning the inside the house as well.

“No need,” Mick said, kicking a throw-pillow that somehow landed on the porch. “We have a replicator in the ship. I can’t necessarily ask Gideon to build you a house but it could make all the materials you need to renovate this. Appliances, too. Well, 2100s appliances, if you’re into holograms and shi—“

“Cuss in front of the kids one more time, I’ll cut your tongue.”

“Sorry,” he replied to me unapologetically. “That or you could just…I don’t know…get a new house?”

“But Daddy and I planted flowers around the yard,” Lily replied to Mick. “We can’t move them. I’m staying here!”

“You heard the boss,” Leonard chuckled. “When will we start?”

Having speedster friends come in handy when you need a fast clean-up of the mess a bunch of idiotic bad guys ruin your home. In a flash, slight pun intended, every single thing we have on our house was already on the yard and all the broken glass and broken things disposed.

Ray and Nate helped carry the plywood and the glass and metals from the ship to our yard. The kids were too hands-on on choosing their new things and all that could replace the stuff we lost and broke. Jax and Amaya are helping them out, making sure they stick to the grey-blue-white theme our house has.

It’s early in the day and I’m already feeling exhausted. Must be the tiresome day that went before this. I did got shot on the side not twenty four hours ago. Although it was just a graze of the bullet it still drained me. My age betraying me. I could usually handle a gunshot easily, but then again, it’s been so long since I’ve been on a fight. The last time I’ve had bullets raining on me, I wasn’t a Snart yet. The last time I’ve felt this weak was when I had Lily. But I’m not pregnant. We’ve been too preoccupied with running and hiding that we didn’t really have time to…oh. Christmas at New Zealand under the aurora. But then again, I might be over-thinking things.

I went straight from the fabrication room to the Medbay, wanting something for the intense headache I’m having.

“Gideon, aspirin please.”

“I’m afraid I can’t give them to you, Mrs. Snart,” Gideon chimed in from the overhead. “Aspirin could be dangerous to your child.”

Feeling wuzzy, I sat down on one of the medbay beds I was in yesterday. “It’s not for Luke or Lily, Gideon. It’s for me.”

“I’m well aware, Mrs. Snart. That is why I’m not giving it to you. Pregnant women can’t take aspirin.”

Wait. Hold on.

“Am I...?”

“Yes. Congratulations,” Gideon greeted me flatly.

“But I was shot, Gideon. I was here yesterday. You patched me up. Len was here. You didn’t tell us anything the whole time we were here…”

“You just came from a battle. I don’t think that’s a good time to announce that you’re carrying a human being inside you. You don’t need to worry. The embryo isn’t harmed. You are just a month into your pregnancy and I’ve already given you…”

“We’re gonna have a baby…”

“…vitamins to strengthen the child’s hold, similar to the one I gave you when you were carrying Mr. Luke…”

“Oh, the kids are gonna freak out…”

“…and this is your third child. I don’t need to remind you of what to eat and what not to eat…”

“Leonard is gonna cry…”

“Do you want me to do anything else?”

“Nothing else. Thank you Gideon.”

 I didn’t hear what she said next. I was already rushing to the fabrication room to get Luke and Lily. I remember just briefly asking them to come with me back to the house Jax and Amaya just shrugged, so did Nate who was on his way inside the room we just vacated.

With Lily’s hand on mine and Luke’s footsteps after own, we journeyed outside the front hatch of the cloaked Waverider onto our yard where I see Ray installing security cameras on the lawn.

“Where’s Len?” I asked, panting.

“He’s inside with Mick. They’re painting. Is everything okay?”

The kids looked at me for answer, too. I could feel the rush from inside me—my cheeks getting flushed. “Peachy. I’ll see ya!”

 I walked in, wincing as I smell the fresh paint around me. The two were in the middle of their loud conversation when Leonard saw me. I squeezed Lily’s hand and let go and rushed over to Leonard with a huge smile on my face.

“You’re acting weird, hon. Everything okay?” Len said as he puts down the paint roller and wrapped his arms around my waist.

I nodded, biting my lower lip.

I can’t wait to kiss him.

But first…

“Mick,” I said without tearing my gaze at Leonard, “could you step out for a while?”

Mick continued painting over the wall.

“I know you heard me, Mick.”

He sighed heavily. “You want Lenny to yourself? Do I need to take the kids? Damn, Sara, can’t you at least wait till we leave?”

I rolled my eyes annoyingly and I saw a flicker of fear and uncertainty in Leonard’s eyes.

“Snart family meeting,” I said sharply, finally turning my head to my amused friend. “Anyone not married to me and didn’t come out of my womb could step out now.”

Of course I know he was making it difficult for me. Mick did eventually stepped out, grumbling about how we’re never gonna finish anything, but left with a wink.

“Okay,” Len said, testing the waters. “What’s the family meeting for?”

I smiled at him and let my hands work their way up to the back of his head, massaging his scalp. The kids are too stunned and too confused to even say a single word.

“Len…”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I placed a hand on his chest and another trailing his jaw. “I have a favor to ask you.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. His right hand drawing circles on the small of my back—a classic Leonard fidget. “And what would that be?”

“I just need you…to love another Snart.”

“W-what? Who?”

“I know I don’t have to ask this from you because you’re gonna love this one anyways but we’ll have to wait eight months to know who this is…”

“Are you telling me…”

“…because I’m only a month along…”

“Sara…”

“…but I think the kinds wouldn’t mind having another sibling…”

“Mommy?”,

“Is this real?!”

“…and we finally have a use for that spare room beside Lucky’s room…”

Leonard lifted me up off the ground and had my feet swinging. I framed his face with my hands and kissed him, slowly deepening it and only stopping when I heard giggles from behind me.

Leonard finally puts me down, without removing his forehead from mine. He pulled me closer, almost hugging me. He’s beginning to breathe deeply. “This is amazing news, Sara.”

“Ready to change diapers again?”, I asked, hands roaming on his chest and shoulders.

“Only if it’s with you.”

And the news is sealed with a kiss. As every important thing is.

—post-script—

*Third-person POV

Mick and the rest of the Legends immediately found out when Lily announced the good news aloud even before her parents got out of their house.

“Mommy’s having a baby!” Lily rushed outside, hugging Mick when she bumped into him. “Uncle Mick, we’re having a baby!”

“I heard you, little bird.”

“I’m gonna be a big sister, Luke-y!”

Luke high-fived Ray and Nate who were both cheering. “I got two little ones to look after now.”

 Not much was done after the announcement. Everyone stopped Sara from helping out despite her arguments that she’s done this twice already and that she’s not even big yet. But none of them were taking their chances. The Legends promised to come back everyday just to help the Snarts build their home again.

That night, the couple was looking for their kids, wanting to kiss them goodnight. Unfortunately, both of them weren’t in their respective rooms.

“Where did they go?” Leonard asked as he closed Luke’s door. “They didn’t jump in the Waverider at the last minute, right?”

“No. I helped Lily clean herself up a while ago.”

Just like fate, they heard muffles of whispers from two small voices coming from the vacant room beside Luke’s.

 “I hope the baby is a girl so I could play with her,” Lily said, lying down on the carpeted floor with a pillow beneath her head.

Luke was also lying down beside her, hands on the back of his head. “I want a boy,” he said, “but a girl is not too bad either. You’re a good sister. Maybe the baby will be a good sister too.”

“Are you happy that we’re back home, Luke-y?”

“I am,” the boy replied. “I missed my friends. I miss school. But what I miss the most is seeing Mommy and Daddy happy.”

“Me too,” Lily said after a yawn. “My classmates would never believe me when I tell them this story.”

“You could tell it to Dawn.”

 From outside the door, Len had his arm wrapped around Sara’s waist.

“You know you have to carry them back to their rooms, right?” Sara whispered.

Leonard chuckled and held her closer. “I know. Let’s just let them sleep first.”

 “Why are we sleeping here, Luke-y? It’s empty. Mommy said we have to wait eight months more. That’s a long time,” Lily moped, teary-eyed from her series of yawning.

“We need to make sure, Lil.”

“Make sure that what?”

“That the room doesn’t have monsters in it so that the baby can sleep,” Luke answered. “Now that you’re a big girl, I need to tell you what Daddy told me before.”

“And what is that?”

“We always look after each other. We look after Mommy and Daddy. We look after our family. Soon, we’ll look after the baby.”

 Sara can’t help but place a kiss on her husband’s cheek. Leonard was walking Sara back to their room when a thought hit her.

They’ve lived most of their lives in regret. They’ve had their fair share of mistakes and bad moments they could never forget even if they tried. But after the death of the Legion, after spending months away, and having another child, one realization hit her: Destiny must have taken pity on her for once and gave her the life she only used to dream about.

 ---epilogue soon---

I know we initially plan a 12-chapter long story but a fun and fluffy epilogue came to mind upon talking to my partner. We *had* to make another one. The entire story is far from perfect but as my first multi-chapter fic, I’m pretty proud of it. I hope this gives me confidence to write more multi-chapters. I just want to thank everyone who hang on to this despite the delayed updates and typos and all the issues that came with it. I’m so, so grateful. Enough for now. The rest of the thank yous would go after the epilogue.

Thanks again. Y’all are gems.