#corny. and weird. and yet my curiousity gets the best of me

[spohkh]

men will literally train their dog to respond to key words cueing them to act up, play shitting noises on a speaker in the bathroom to make it seem like theyre fighting for their life, and then secretly book a flight to switzerland rather than have a frank conversation with their partner about why they’re not having sex anymore

[unwrittenlibrary]

magnetic force of a man

summary // loving him in the summer is warmth and radiance.

or; three summers showcasing the growth of your relationship with bucky. [bucky barnes x fem!reader]

words // 4.5k

warnings // post-endgame bucky & softness & kind of corny

notes // inspired by taylor swift’s lover. somehow this just came out, i’m not sure how i feel about it.

my writing is free and it will stay free, but if you enjoy it and you have the resources, consider donating to my ko-fi!

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

| Summer of 2025 |

You meet Bucky at the Farmer’s Market in June when you both reach for a red delicious apple. It’s awkward laughs and friendly introductions.

You’ve heard of him before; Janet who runs the apple stand talks about him and how perfect of a match you would be. Unbeknownst to you, Eugene who runs the plum stand, says the same thing to him.

“You’re the man Janet won’t shut up about.” You smile sweetly. Your eyes scan his small basket of fruits and vegetables. He’s got a lot of different things. He must cook, you think. “I’ve been told I would like you.”

Bucky laughs. His eyes scan your basket too, you wonder what he thinks of all your choices. “You must be the woman Eugene won’t stop talking about.” He leans towards you and in a mischievous tone whispers, “I think they’ve been trying to set us up.”

It makes you laugh. “You’ve got a beautiful laugh.” Bucky compliments. His smile is genuine and he’s got blue eyes that are filled with kindness. You can see why Janet had been trying for so long to get you to meet him.

“Thank you.” You step towards him when another man rushes past you. “I have to ask, what have you heard?”

Bucky shrugs. “Just that you’re beautiful and you make the best apple pie Eugene’s ever tasted.” Bucky leans towards you again. “So far, he’s spot on.” The implication makes heat rise to your cheeks and you smile down at your basket.

“Guess I’ll have to make you some pie so you can see if he’s two for two.” You look back up with a teasing smile. Bucky’s eyes light up in excitement.

He shakes his head in amusement. “I hope I’m not being too forward, can I have you number?” You’re already pulling your phone out of your pocket to hand over.

That’s the beginning of your story.

˚《

Your first date is the last week of June. After weeks of texting and even some phone calls, Bucky had finally asked you out.

He takes you to a drive in up in Warwick and you park in the middle row of the second screen to watch Grease. The sun is still out when you arrive, so there’s some time to get snacks and settle in.

“Did you know it was throwbacks weekend?” You ask as Bucky flips through his radio stations in search of the correct one.

He shakes his head. You can see his fingers shaking a little nervously as he looks up at you. “Is Grease okay? I’ve uh, I’ve never seen it. It looked cute.” He grimaces and it makes you smile.

“I love Grease.” You say softly, reaching your hand out for his. “Are you nervous?”

Bucky laughs awkwardly. “Am I that obvious?” Your eyes trail over his gloved hands, his left hand resting on his thigh as you hold his right.

“I think it’s sweet.” You reassure him. “You must be hot in these. It’s June.” You flip his hand so it’s palm up and trace your finger over it.

“I haven’t done this in awhile.” He admits. There’s a red tint to his cheeks, one that’s not from the summer heat, and it makes you giggle. He eyes meet yours and he smiles tensely. “I’m uh- I-“

“You don’t have to say it.” You pull the glove off hastily so his flesh hand is revealed to you. “I know who you are. You can keep them on if you want, but you don’t need to.” You place the glove back in his palm and wrap his fingers around it.

Bucky watches you for a moment. “You know who I am and still want to go one a date with me?” You frown at his self-depreciating tone.

“I know who you used to be. I don’t know you though. The real Bucky Barnes. That’s why I want to go on this date with you.” The radio begins reciting rules of the drive-in and you look at the screen. The sun is setting behind it quickly.

When you turn to look at Bucky again, he has a grin on his face as he watches you. “Come on! Let’s get snacks before the movie starts.” You turn to push open the car door and Bucky follows after you easily.

You don’t know it yet, but that’s the beginning of your pull over him. Bucky thinks he would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

˚《

Your first kiss is two weeks later after watching a movie in central park. It was Dirty Dancing this time. You’ve been on five dates.

You’ve learned that Bucky likes going to these throwback playings and experiencing the movies he missed while under Hydra’s control. You’re happy to indulge him, truly.

You just wish he would do more than hold you hand. Which, okay, maybe that isn’t fair. Sometimes he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder and you’ll lean your head against his chest. He’ll even give you a kiss on the cheek goodnight, but he still won’t kiss you on the lips and you’re starting to think he just doesn’t want to.

One date? Okay, he wants to be respectful and not move too fast. Two dates? A little weird, but he was from a different time. Three? Did they just not kiss back then? You can’t imagine a charming Bucky Barnes who didn’t steal a kiss from a pretty girl. Four had you on the edge of your seat waiting for the kiss that didn’t happen.

Now, as Bucky walks you home, you think of all the ways you can bring it up. You even think of just kissing him yourself, it was the twenty-first century and women can make the first move.

Except, you can’t help but think, what if he doesn’t want to kiss me?

“You alright?” Bucky’s hand gripping your elbow gently forces you out of your head. You look up at him with wide eyes and nod a little too hastily. “You sure? You’ve been silent for like, fifteen minutes.”

His eyes are concerned pools of blue as he stares down at you. The words just come tumbling out of your mouth, “Why don’t you want to kiss me?”

Bucky just stares at you in shock. You feel heat on the back of your neck and shift in uncomfortable embarrassment at your outburst. “I’m sorry!” You blurt out. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to kiss me and if you don’t want to that’s fine!” You suck in a deep breath. Bucky is still watching you silently, so you continue on. “I would just rather know now if you don’t want to kiss me instead of finding out later.”

You finish quietly with Bucky still watching you. If you weren’t so panicked, you would probably recognize his look as him digesting the words. But the panicked feeling mixes with the sting of rejection and you begin to back away. “Well this was great. Hope to never-“

Bucky’s hand wraps your waist and he hauls you back into him. His lips meet yours harshly, but it’s not painful in any way. It’s somehow gentle and his lips are soft against yours. Your eyes close and one of your hands comes up to rest on his cheek while his hands hold steady onto your waist.

When you pull away it’s with a gasp of air. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since that day in the Farmer’s Market.” Bucky admits breathlessly.

“So why’d you never kiss me?” You ask curiously. Cars speed past you on the street and there’s a group of teenagers who all gag as they pass you, but none of it matters with Bucky in your arms like this.

Bucky smiles. “I told you. I haven’t done this in a long time.”

˚《

By August, you and Bucky are going steady. You go to the market together most weekends and Bucky calls you his girl to the people you’ve both become regulars of.

He’s even talked about introducing you to his friends and going out together one night when they’re all free.

It makes your heart race and your fingers twitch with excited nerves. You think you love him, which seems crazy when you think of how you’ve only been seeing each other since June, but you do.

Thinking of him makes your heart beat faster and your face warm. You want to spend as much time as can with him and hang onto every word he says.

It seems like he feels the same way too, but you’re just not sure. Fall is right around the corner though. That means schedules pick up again and the weather gets colder, so you’d like to know if Bucky feels the same way or if this was just a way to pass the time in the summer.

You just don’t know how to say it though. Every time you think of saying the words your nerves get the best of you and you blurt out something he finds endearingly awkward and doesn’t think anything of.

“I still can’t believe a show like this exists.” Bucky murmurs in awe from beside you on his couch. You’re not really pay attention to the random reality show you’ve put on though. You’re focused on the way his eyes shine curiously and how he smiles whenever the host makes a shitty joke.

Your feet are settled in his lap and he pinches your shin when he turns to look at you. “You’re not even watching the show.”

“I love you.” You blurt. That’s one way to do it, you think. You were afraid you would regret the words when you said them or even feel embarrassed, but you don’t. All you feel is lighter, like you’ve created a better world by letting Bucky know somebody loves him, even if he doesn’t feel the same. “I don’t know if you wanted this to be summer fling or-“

“Summer fling?” Bucky laughs. His hand moves up your leg. “I’m not going around calling you my girl to everyone who’ll listen because you’re some fling.”

The words make you laugh. “I love that laugh.” Bucky admits quietly. When your eyes meet his again, he smiles sweetly. “I love you too.”

When he leans towards you for a kiss, you meet him halfway happily.

| Summer 2026 |

Being with Bucky has made you far more confident in yourself. His reassurance and constant support pushed you to be better and you knew he felt the same, so you figured moving in with him was the next step.

You had the perfect plan on how to ask him too. You had recruited Sam, who had taken a liking to you immediately, and gotten an extra key to your apartment cut with the word home engraved onto it.

While you spent the day getting the key cut and making room for Bucky’s things in your space, Sam spent the day distracting him. By the time you hear Bucky knock on your door, you’re about to burst with excitement.

You smooth down the front of you skirt and suck in a deep breath. “Hey!” Bucky’s eyes trail over you in surprise.

“Hey. Did I forget a date?” He looks up nervously, but his shoulders relax when you shake your head with a bright smile. “What’s this then? Not that I don’t love you in this skirt.” His hands find your hips and trail up your sides.

You pull his hands off and pull him inside the apartment. “I have a surprise for you!” He follows you into the kitchen easily and you pull out the small box containing the key.

You rock back and forth on your heels excitedly as Bucky begins to slowly unwrap the box. He watches, completely bemused by your excitement, and moves even slower to tease you.

“Stop!” You laugh and he shakes his head before tearing the rest of the paper off. He inspects the box slowly before opening it.

When his eyes land on the key, he doesn’t say anything and your smile drops. You watch as he stares and your excitement diminishes by the millisecond.

“Do you… Do you not like it?” You ask, unable to handle the silence. Bucky swallows thickly before looking up at you. Your heart drops as the burn of his rejection settles beneath your skin. “You don’t.” It’s not a question.

He reaches for you, but you step out of his grasp. “It’s not that I don’t like it, I just… I’m…” He doesn’t know what to say or how to actually say no to you. It’s obvious.

“You mentioned your lease was up soon and that you didn’t want to resign. I thought…” You trail off. You feel like you can’t breathe. You and Bucky were so good together, this seemed like the logical next step.

Had you read everything wrong? “I meant… I was looking at places closer to you.” Bucky says like it’s supposed to make you feel better.

“But you don’t want to live with me?” Your back hits the counter and you flinch at the harsh feeling. Bucky raises a hand, as if to comfort you, but drops it at the last second. “I don’t… Understand? I guess?”

Bucky runs a hand over his face. “I’m just not ready to live together yet, sweets.” He says softly. His face is grimaced as if the words pain him.

Join the club, you think. “Can I ask why? It seems like the next step, you know? We’ve been together for a year. I figured we’d move in together, start talking about marriage. Our future.”

Bucky’s eyes flash to yours. You hadn’t even thought it was possible, but it feels like your heart drops even further. “Do you not want to get married?” You ask slowly.

“I don’t know.” Bucky answers hesitantly. “I never planned a life. I never thought I’d get all this.”

You know he’s trying to make you feel better about the situation, but his words only hurt you more. “So being with me hasn’t made you think about your future at all?” You question. You think those words are what breaks you. The tears come rushing to your eyes and your face is hot with a mixture of anger and hurt.

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky’s getting upset too. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists, something you’ve learned he does when he’s stressed. “I just meant I’m not sure what I want.” A beat of silence. “Shit. I mean-“ He groans in frustration and you sigh.

“I know I want you. A future with you.” You say quietly. You move to the close the box, key still inside, before shoving it into one of your kitchen drawers. “So, I think you should figure it out. What you want. So I know whether or not I should move on.”

Bucky watches you with tears brimming his own eyes. “Sweets-“

“I think you should go home, Buck.” You cut him off in a gentle tone. “Think for a few days.” You begin to move towards your hallway, ready to fall into your bed.

“Like… Like a break?” He asks tightly making you pause. You look at him over your shoulder and shrug.

“If that’s what you want to call it. I think you just need some time to figure out what you want for yourself. If it’s not me, that’s okay, but you should know.” You look back down your hallway. “I deserve to know too.”

You wait until you hear your front door slam shut to fall into your bed. When you notice Bucky’s shirt draped over your vanity chair, the tears come.

Not how you imagined your summer starting.

˚《

The month of June goes by, blossoming into July and Bucky doesn’t reach out. You’re heartbroken over it. Though that doesn’t sound like the right term because it really feels like your heart has been torn from your chest, but there wasn’t really a word for that.

You know you were the one who had suggested the break, but you figured he would have cared for you enough to give you a formal break up. Had you really ever known Bucky? What had gone wrong?

“You weren’t with Bucky yesterday!” Janet gushes when you stop in front of her booth. Your heart cracks at his name. “He always has such sweet things to say about you! Why don’t you two come together anymore? Your work schedules mess you up?”

Your eyes flash to her in confusion. Had Bucky not told her? “Janet… We broke up.” You say quietly. You’ve mastered the art of sounding cold when explaining to your friends and neighbors Bucky wouldn’t be coming around anymore.

She shakes her head like you’re not telling her the truth. “He was just talking about how he was trying to learn his mama’s famous peach cobbler recipe to make for you.”

“Must be another girl.” You say in a heated tone. “I haven’t spoken to him in weeks.”

She frowns. “He said your name, darling. That I’m sure of. Called you his girl and everything, just like he always does.” She explains softly.

“He’s delusional then.” You hiss. You stomp away from her cart. You’ll apologize to her next week, but for now, Bucky has somehow managed to ruin your day.

˚《

There’s a knock on your door that night. Your heart almost stops when you recognize the pattern that Bucky always led with.

When you check the peephole and confirm it’s him you almost don’t open the door, until you notice the tin-foiled dish in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” You ask harshly before he can say a word to you. You lean against your door jam, effectively blocking him from setting foot into your apartment. “And what is that?”

“A poor attempt at peach cobbler.” Your pulse quickens. “And I’m here to apologize.” When you look up and see the sincerity in his eyes, you sigh.

“Come in.” You step aside and he smiles gratefully as he steps past you. He places the dish on your counter and turns to face you nervously.

You stand still across from him. You had never thought you would feel this awkward around Bucky. “I’m sorry for… for hurting you that night.” He starts off quietly. “And for not reaching out, but you were right, I did need to figure my shit out.”

“You could have told me that.” You say softly. “Hey, you’re right! Let’s take a break and figure stuff out. Going ghost on me? That broke my heart, Buck.” You cross your arms over your chest like they’re a shield.

“I know.” Bucky says in the same apologetic tone. “I just… I was embarrassed because I made a fool of myself. Because I wanted to say yes. You have no idea how badly I wanted to say yes, but I was too scared to.”

You shake your head. “Scared of what? It’s me, Buck. I love you. You know I love you.” You hadn’t imagined having this conversation with him and you can’t keep the emotion out of you voice.

“What if you see parts of me living together that you don’t see now that make you not want me?” His tone is resembling that of a broken man, one you’ve only heard stories of.

The Bucky Barnes you know is healing. He’s charming, soft and intimidating but full of life and happiness. Not this. It breaks your heart and against your better judgement, you reach out to cup his cheeks in your hands. “There isn’t a part of you I won’t love, Bucky.”

“I still get nightmares. So bad I wake up screaming and unable to breathe.” He says softly. “It takes forever to get out of them.”

“I’ll hold your hand and help you through them.” You say without hesitation. “Bucky. The point of a relationship is to grow together. I want to do that with you, do you want to do that with me?”

His hands reach up to grip yours. You almost sigh in relief at the feeling of his hands in yours after weeks without it. “I do.” He says steadily. “Can we… Can we not be on a break anymore? I miss you.” He admits quietly.

A part of you thinks you should pull back. He had hurt you and you were still upset. But another, larger part of you, missed him more than he had hurt you.

“Yeah.” You say after a moment. “No more break.” You pull him towards you. He meets you readily in a kiss.

˚《

By the end of August, Bucky’s got a drawer full of things in your bedroom and his books have started to overcrowd your coffee table.

You communicate better. He shares more about his nightmares with you. He talks about the future he sees with you, one with a family and dogs in the backyard of the house he hopes to build.

You’re still nervous to bring up moving in together again. In the end it doesn’t matter though, because Bucky is the one who brings it up.

“Can we…” He starts nervously one night as the two of you eat dinner. “Would you want to talk about moving in together again?”

You look up at him a little shocked by the question. “What do you mean?” You shake your head. You know what he means. “Do you?” You ask quickly.

He nods slowly. You can see his nervousness in his tense jaw and clenching and unclenching fists. “I would like to move in together.” He’s talking kind of robotically, like he’s been practicing the words so they came out perfectly.

It’s sweet, you think. The gesture makes you laugh softly. “I would like to move in together too.” You reach across the table and wrap a hand around Bucky’s wrist.

His shoulders drop and you move to unclench his fist. “Yeah? You would?” He asks, less robotic in tone and more excited.

“Yeah.” You nod in confirmation. Bucky gives you a bright smile that’s impossible to not return.

Come fall, Bucky’s given up his apartment and has got an entire bookshelf taking up room in yours.

| Summer 2027 |

It’s July again and Bucky wants to propose.

Over two years together and the Farmer’s Market feels like the perfect place to do it. It’s where you had met and had become a daily part of your guy’s routine.

The only issue is, he’s pretty sure you’re thinking the same thing. Not that you’re onto him, that you want to propose too.

And, okay, Bucky is all for what women have accomplished in the almost century he’s been alive, truly. But proposing is his thing, it just is.

You had been the first person the say I love you. You had been the one to originally ask him to move in together. He wanted nothing more than to be the one down on one knee with his mother’s ring that he had begged and begged some museum curator to give up.

Which ultimately means, he has to beat you to it. So his plans are a little rushed. He had originally wanted to do it at the end of summer, when fall was rounding the corner and leaves were turning brown, but July would work.

July was when you had gone on some of your first dates and was when you had shared your first kiss. July was meaningful and July would work.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you absentmindedly run your fingers over the apples in front of you. Bucky’s eyes shoot up to look at Janet behind the stand, who smiles at him knowingly. You turn to look at Bucky with raised eyebrows. “You’ve been fidgety all day.”

Bucky lets out a fake cough. “I just feel a little off.” He lies. It’s a poor lie and it makes your lips quark up at the corner.

“Want to go home?” You ask, already stepping away from the apple stand. “We ca-“

“No!” Bucky’s hands grip your shoulders and he forces your to stop. You smile at him in question and Bucky quickly drops his hands back to his side. “I mean, no. Probably just allergies.”

“Uh-huh.” You say in obvious disbelief. “The super soldier suddenly has allergies.”

Bucky sighs in defeat. “You know, don’t you?” He asks and you laugh softly. Your hand finds his and you interlock your fingers together.

“Only because you left the ring on the counter last night and I saw it when I went to get water.” You say apologetically. Bucky drops his head so his forehead rests against your shoulder and lets out a groan.

You press a kiss to his temple before nudging him away. “Ask me.” You urge softly. Bucky wants to say no, that he wants to do it right, but this seems almost fitting.

You were what pushed him to be better, so maybe it made sense for you to be the one who pushed him in this too. He wasn’t sure he would even be able to without it, honestly.

He sucks in a deep breath before dropping to one knee in front of you. There are gasps of people passing by, but Bucky keeps his eyes on you as he pulls out the ring. Resized and cleaned, ready for your finger.

“I have a speech so just, bear with me. Okay?” A smile spreads across your face as you nod. “This is the third summer I’ve spent completely in love with you. I didn’t know I could feel this way about someone. Sometimes I’m still shocked that you wake up everyday and choose to be with me. But I promise I don’t take it for granted. Not for one second because I love you so much and I wake up every morning ready to show you forever. And I… I um.” Bucky swallows. “I had more planned, but I’m so nervous and I just want to ask you already.”

“Ask me.” You whisper with a bright smile. A group has gathered around you two by now, everyone murmuring in excitement but you and Bucky can only stare at each other.

“Will you marry me?” Bucky asks softly. He can see his hand shaking as he holds out the ring to you even though there’s no doubt in his mind that you’ll say yes. “Please?” He tacks on for good measure.

You nod quickly, holding your left hand out to him. “Yes. Yes. Of course!” You cheer. Once he has slipped the the ring onto your finger, you pull him up by the collar of his shirt.

You kiss him without a care in the world. Bucky’s hand comes up to rest on the back of your neck as excited cheers resound from all around you two.

When you pull away you’re smiling brighter than he’s ever seen. Bucky can’t do anything but return it.

His eyes move around the crowd and find Eugene, the man who runs the plum stand. He smiles kindly at Bucky and mouths I told you so. Bucky laughs to himself before pressing a kiss to your head.

This Farmer’s Market was probably the best decision Bucky had ever made.

It had brought him you.

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notes // what did i say about soft!bucky? that he was all i knew how to write!!

reblogs and replies are always appreciated, especially if you read and enjoyed this piece!

[lilacmoon83]

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 3: Hope Returned

Mr. Gold stared at the two hundred and twenty passenger photos on the large screens in the conference room.

"My superiors are breathing down my neck on this. They want answers and the NSA just let two-hundred and twenty dead people waltz back into the world," Vance complained.

"Keeping them against their will for doing nothing wrong would be very unethical," Gold replied neutrally.

"Each and every one of them could be a threat to National security. In times like that, ethics may need to be suspended," Vance said. Gold regarded him skeptically.

"That's your superiors talking and I know that wouldn't sit well with you. Besides, the only way for any of this to even begin to make sense is if we send them back into the world," Gold replied.

"I'm not sure how you figure that," Vance complained. Gold smirked.

"Relax, Director Vance. Sit back...and enjoy the coming attraction," he said cryptically.

~*~

Dr. Regina Mills pulled back from the hug she shared with an elderly man, who was crying profusely.

"It's okay Daddy...I'm home now," she assured.

"It's a miracle…" he gushed.

"You are everything to me, Regina...I was so lost without you," he cried. She frowned and hugged him again. Things were never good between her parents, but she was sad that her disappearance had not brought them together and since she saw her mother coming in separately, she guessed it had only made things worse.

"Mother…" she said.

"It's true…" Cora cooed, as she truly looked happy to see her daughter. Things were never very good between them, but Regina knew that her mother did love her, in her own way. They shared a hug and she saw an older man, about the same age as her father who seemed familiar, lagging back.

"Who is that?" she asked.

"Oh...that's Leopold. My new husband," Cora said. Regina's eyes widened.

"You divorced daddy?" she asked.

"It's okay Regina...you know it was a long time coming," Henry admonished.

"Yes...but now that you're back, you can come home with me. I've moved in with Leopold and his mansion is impressive. There will be plenty of room for you too," Cora said. Regina pursed her lips.

"No thank you, mother...I think I'll go home with Daddy," he said, as politely as possible. She took her father's arm and helped him to the car service that had brought him here. When she left, he was only using a cane occasionally when he got tired, but now it seemed that it was a full time thing. Her mother had abandoned him, but now that she was back, she would make sure he wasn't alone anymore.

~*~

The next day, despite her father's pleas that she take some time off, Regina returned to the hospital to stares of surprise and awe. She was eager to continue her research, but she was on the receiving end of some very surprising news.

"It's true…" a voice said, as she turned and found one of her colleagues there. She smiled and they shared a hug.

"Dr. Hopper...it is...and IT is looking at my damaged laptop now. I was on the verge of a breakthrough and I'm hoping they can recover my work," she said. He looked at her oddly.

"No one told you?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Told me what?" she asked.

"Regina...we got your research, including the breakthrough five and a half years ago. It's saved hundreds of pediatric terminal cancer patients," Archie revealed, stunning her to speechlessness.

"Really?" she squeaked and they shared a bright smile.

"You're quite a legend here and even more so now," he said, as he continued on with his rounds, leaving her to let that information sink in.

Curiously, she saw two people she recognized from the plane a short distance down the hall and they were with a woman and another young woman. They seemed to be apprehensive and she approached them cautiously.

"Can I help you?" she asked. David turned and remembered her.

"You were on the plane," he replied. She nodded.

"Dr. Regina Mills," she said, as they shook hands.

"David Nolan. This is my wife Margaret, our daughter Olive and our son Henry," he said, as she smiled down at the boy.

"What a coincidence...my father's name is also Henry," she mentioned. He smiled at her, instantly taken in by her kindness toward him.

"Really?" he asked. She nodded.

"He's very special to me and I bet you're just as special to your parents," she said.

"We...we were actually looking for someone to evaluate him. His doctor from five years ago isn't here anymore," David replied. She frowned.

"Cancer?" she asked, as Margaret nodded sadly.

"Terminal…" she whispered and Regina was struck by the pain in the woman's eyes. Had she really just gotten her son back only to face losing him again? But then she remembered what Dr. Hopper had said.

"Come with me...I think we have much to discuss and I don't want to get your hopes up," she said, as she turned back to them.

"But I think I can help your son," she said. They looked at her with hope in their eyes and she hoped that she wasn't going to end up letting them down in the end. They nodded and followed her to an exam room.

~*~

Emma sighed, as she got up from the bed she was crashing on in the basement. She managed a smile, as she looked through the boxes of all the things MM had kept for her after they had to let her apartment go. She looked through the photos and smiled at the one with her, MM, and little Olive. Then there was another. Her, Killian and...Lily. She pushed the box away and grabbed her new phone. She knew David and Margaret would be happy if she lived with them forever in their basement, but she needed her own place eventually again, so that meant getting back to work. With that thought, she cleaned up, got dressed, and went upstairs. She stumbled though, as she suddenly heard her own voice in her head.

"All Things."

Emma did a three-sixty turn, looking for anyone around, but found no one. Shaking her head, she continued on and looked at the keys on the counter to an extra vehicle that her father had apparently left for her. She picked the keys up, but then put them back down. She wasn't ready for driving yet, so she took off on foot to the nearest bus station. On the way, she dialed Killian's number nervously and waited, as it rang on his end. She was both relieved and disappointed though when it went to voicemail and she hung up without leaving a message. It made her fear the worst.

MM had come rushing to the airport for them the moment they had let her through the gate, but Killian hadn't come for her. And she knew it probably meant that he had moved on. She couldn't blame him though. Why wouldn't he? It's not like they had what David and Margaret had, as much as she secretly had always wanted that. How could she not? Growing up with them had left a hopeful impression upon her that she'd find the same, but now it was sinking in that she probably didn't have that. She still didn't blame him though. To him, she was dead and had been for almost six years now. She would have wanted him to move on if she really was gone, but she couldn't help remember the night that she had met him. It was girl's night out and as usual, her sister-in-law was being the person Emma secretly aspired to be and the person that her other friends thought was an oddity.

~*~ Flashback

"Oh...that's okay, you can take that back," MM said, as the waitress put another drink in front of her.

"Sorry hon, but that guy at the bar really, really likes you. You're adorable though...you should totally go for it," the waitress commented, as she left.

"She's not wrong...he's pretty good looking," Lily said.

"I'm married...happily," MM replied. The other girls giggled.

"We only live once, M&M. If you ask me, monogamy is way overrated," Abigail slurred.

"I'm sure Freddie will be happy to hear that," Emma said, referring to Abigail's own husband. The blonde was clearly drunk already and would be mortified in the morning at what she just said, which would be fun for Emma later.

"Maybe for you...but I have eyes for one man," MM said dreamily, causing the other girls to groan.

"Hey...it's sweet. I love that my mom and dad will always be together," Emma joked, as she hugged her best friend and Margaret giggled. Emma was clearly feeling a buzz herself.

"Besides girls...why would I go out for a hamburger when I have steak at home?" Margaret asked coyly, as she sipped at her drink.

"And then you go and make it weird by referring to my brother as a side of beef," Emma deadpanned, making the raven haired beauty smile.

"Fine...then a different reference. Why would I go out for some jerk at a bar looking for one thing when I have Prince Charming waiting for me at home? Better?" she asked, as the girls groaned again.

"It's so corny that you call him that," Lily complained. But Emma smiled at her. Secretly she loved it and she decided that she was going to tell the guy at the bar exactly where he could shove his drinks for her best friend, whom she was always super protective of.

"Hey dude...no dice," she said, as she put the drinks on the bar. He shrugged.

"Can't blame a guy for trying. Your friend is hot...looks sweet as sugar too," he leered. That burned her up, because he confirmed that he was exactly the type that only wanted one thing.

"Yeah well...she's not interested and happily married," Emma warned. He shrugged.

"How about you? Usually, I like that certain innocence that your friend seems to have, but for you...yeah I'd make an exception," the jerk said, as he looked her up and down.

"Hard pass," she quipped, as she started walking back to the table.

"Tell sugar hi for me...and that I'd love a taste!" he called. She stopped in her tracks and turned back, intending to punch him when someone got between them.

"Keith...shut your stupid mouth or I let the lass here have a crack at you," the man warned. She backed down a bit and regarded him for a moment.

"Is that idiot your friend?" she asked.

"Friend is a strong word...my brother owns this bar and Keith is regular. So I know him well, but friend...yeah not really. Killian Rogers," he said, as he put his hand out. She looked at him skeptically and then shook it in return.

"Okay Killian...just tell your brother's regular over there to keep his eyes off my sister-in-law. She's not interested and I'm not above punching him out if he doesn't stop acting like a creeper," she warned. Killian smirked, secretly enthralled by her spirit.

"Message received and I'll make sure Keith gets it too, though he's pretty thick, so keep those fists ready," he replied. She returned his smirk and went back to the table.

~*~

That meeting had led to drinks and then to dates. She had found out that he was going through the academy and she had just finished. After that, they ended up at the same precinct and as beat cops together. The rest had been history and she had intended to say yes to his proposal. Until the plane happened. And now, she had no idea where they stood, except that him not coming to the air strip spoke pretty clearly to her.

She got off the bus and walked into the precinct, only to have all eyes on her.

"Emma Nolan...as I live and breathe," Captain Graham Humbert greeted, as he approached her.

"Welcome back from the dead," he mused.

"Uh yeah...it's pretty surreal. I guess I decided to stop by and see if I could have my old job back," she said. He smiled and motioned her forward. Her eyes locked with Killian's, as she passed by and into the Captain's office.

"This is yours," he said, as he handed her a detective shield and she looked at him in surprise.

"Think of it as a posthumous promotion," Graham said.

"Uh...thanks Captain," she replied.

"But…" he said.

"I knew there was a but," she mused.

"Upon completion of a psych evaluation and physical," he said. She nodded and left his office, only to find Killian finally there in her path.

"I...I can't believe it. You haven't changed a bit," he mused. She snorted.

"Yeah...I'm getting that a lot," she replied, as she saw the ring on his finger and swallowed thickly.

"Who is she?" Emma muttered.

"Uh...her name is Milah. You don't really know her," he responded.

"Milah...didn't she work at your brother's bar?" Emma asked. He nodded.

"She...she was there for me after the plane disappeared," he explained. She nodded.

"I...I gotta go," Emma said, as he looked on as she did and felt his feelings for her reignite.

Emma boarded another bus and was lost in thought, until she heard her own voice in her head again.

"Slow Down," the voice warned.

"Hey...can you slow down?" Emma called to the bus driver. He gave her a weird look and ignored her.

"SLOW DOWN!" the voice screamed inside her head and she cried out, as she jumped out of her seat and yanked the pull cord. The driver slammed on his brakes and was about to lay into the annoying passenger when a toddler ran into the road chasing a ball. He was stunned and looked back at her. Had she not yanked the pull cord to slow him down, he would have hit and probably killed the child.

"How...how did you know?" he asked, but Emma didn't answer, as she hurried off the bus and tried to get her bearings. What the hell was happening to her?

~*~

"So...you think you can help Henry?" Margaret asked. The obvious hope in her voice made Regina hope that she wasn't moving this along too fast. This was a mother that had lost her son once and she'd never forgive herself if she gave her hope, only for it to be snatched away. She swallowed.

"Before the plane...I was on the verge of a breakthrough in treating pediatric patients. I thought I might have lost it all when my laptop broke during the turbulence we experienced, but it turns out that my colleagues received my research five and a half years ago," she explained.

"And this research can help Henry?" David asked.

"Apparently, it has been treating and successfully curing pediatric cases for almost two years now and since he's still in the age window...then he may be a candidate for the treatment," she replied. David and Margaret were stunned, as they looked at each other in surprise. Olive smiled and hugged her brother.

"Wait...are you saying that if Henry hadn't been on that plane that he would have been too old for the treatment by now...if we even still had him?" David asked. Regina nodded.

"That seems to be the case," she agreed.

"And this treatment...it has a very good success rate?" Margaret asked, almost in a whisper.

"An unprecedented ninety-three percent success rate," she replied. David was stunned. The plane might have saved their son's life. Was this why it had happened? Surely there had to be more to it than just their little boy...but he didn't care about any of that right now.

"I would like to submit his name for consideration for the treatment, with your permission," Regina stated.

"Yes!" Margaret exclaimed, as tears slipped down her cheeks. David was in tears too, as he clutched her hand.

"Please…" he pleaded. She nodded and they got up, as she saw them out of the room.

"Olive honey...why don't you go get a snack for both of you," Margaret suggested, as David gave her a few dollars. She knew her parents needed a few minutes to digest this information and so she took her brother's hand and led them down the hall.

"They are beautiful," Regina mentioned wistfully. Margaret and David lit up at that.

"Thank you...they're our world and I just got half my world back. It's a miracle," she gushed, as David held her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll get the paperwork done right away and I'll be in touch," Regina said, as she handed her card to them.

"Thank you so much…" Margaret said and then surprised the other woman by hugging her. Regina was shocked, but then smiled, as she hugged her back.

"I'm sorry...you must think I'm a crazy person that goes around hugging strangers," Margaret said, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I only hope I truly can save your little boy. I'm going to do everything I can," she promised, as she walked away. Up until this point, she had no idea what had happened to them and more importantly why. But now...perhaps this was why she had come back. Maybe she was meant to save little Henry Nolan.

"Oh David…" Margaret gushed, as she collapsed to tears against his chest. He hugged her tightly and cried with her, as hope filled them both.

"Can this really be happening?" she asked and he pressed his forehead to hers.

"It is...we're going to save our son," he replied, as he caressed her face.

"I blamed myself…" she squeaked.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I blamed myself for you and Henry even being on that plane! I was the one that didn't want Emma to be alone. I sent you with her, because I couldn't go myself," she sobbed, as he gently moved her to a chair and then knelt before her.

"My darling...don't you see? You're the reason we might save Henry," he told her, as she sniffed.

"If we hadn't gotten on that plane...we might have lost him long ago," he insisted, as she cried.

"Maybe...but I was a mess after the plane. You would have been so ashamed of me," she sobbed.

"Never…" he refuted.

"I shut down...I was in bed for weeks. Your father took care of Ollie for me...I forgot her. She's been in therapy," she lamented.

"No...she knows you didn't. I can't imagine what you both went through," he said sorrowfully.

"Ollie...she always insisted that her brother wasn't gone. The twin thing and I wanted so badly to believe it...that you were out there somewhere. She was right," Margaret said. He smiled and looked up at their children, as they returned.

"She was…" he said, as he stood up and hugged her tightly.

"I'm so sorry that I wasn't there," he apologized.

"Dad...it's not your fault and Mom is right. Maybe this is why all this happened...so we can save Henry," Olive said.

"I know, but I am still sorry for what you went through and for you having to grow up so fast. But this is a second chance and I'm back...I'm not going to waste it," he promised, as they hugged again, as Margaret looked on and cuddled their son.

"Let's go home…" he suggested. She nodded and stood up, as he put his arm around her waist and she leaned against him, as they followed their children to the exit.

[letsperaltiago]

We’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning |CHAPTER 3|

Here it is! Chapter 3 and damn that was intense to write. Not only did I completely disappear into a dark hole writing this (hence the 5k chapter), but there was also such a wide range of feelings in this which was both interesting and challenging to write. I hope I did it justice and it doesn't come off as a chaotic mess! Please let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoy!

Read here or on AO3

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CHAPTER 3: We opened up a cold case love and it got the best of us

Before the shot, time had seemed to come to a standstill - the good kind, where the other’s presence swallowed the concept of time. Sipping on beer, catching up on each other’s most basic life-updates and simply joking around was enough for the sand in the hour glass to stay stuck for just a little while. It was all so simple, corny even, yet there was nowhere else in the world they’d rather wanted to be; right there at Shaw’s in each other’s company seemed stupidly perfect. Henceforth the mysterious shot also happened to get its deed done, making sure that the conversation’s flow from earlier was back and even better than before.

“So,” Amy breathed out heavily, planting her elbow on the table (just an inch or two closer to him for good measure) allowing her chin to rest on top of her clenched fist. Her eyes were still that tad darker shade like earlier, though it was now for completely different reasons that were suddenly flourishing within her. “Are you going to whoop my ass tonight or what?” A cock of her left eyebrow emphasised the frisky mood and playfulness of the question.

On the opposite side of the invisible unspoken between them, the one right on front of Amy’s elbow that neither of them dare to cross out of respect though they wanted to, a suddenly rather dumbfounded Jake felt a lump of nervousness mixed with yearning jamming his throat. “Uhh,” the slight o-shape of his mouth  was enough to ignite a fire in her; whether she felt like admitting it or not, Jake Peralta’s attention definitely satisfied a mysterious drought within her. There was no escaping her profound stare, her delicately glazed eyes, provoking him to shift in his seat to make up for the lack of things to say.

“It’s now or never, Peralta,” it appeared to be her turn to push herself out of the cornered booth. Said action left a still very much speechless Jake by himself to stare at her undeniably beautiful figure as she rose to her feet for the first time that night, heedlessly aggravating the situation seeing that she looked really nice in an outfit that without warning appeared to be his new favourite. Turns out Amy Santiago, without any effort whatsoever, could make heeled black boots, mid-washed skinny jeans and a burgundy collared button-up shirt (that hugged her body all the right places) look like the centuries most impeccable outfit.

“Jake?” the calling of his own name snapped him out of his brief trance-like absence. Even though he’d been mindlessly staring at her during said brief mental absence, his gaze had without a doubt not been focusing on her face. The sound of her voice lead to a quick redirecting of his eyes, letting them stumble upon her face to meet glowing eyes as well as a provoking smile and slightly flushed cheeks. Said attributes were framed by her wavy and all too memorable dark hair falling effortlessly nonetheless flawlessly down her shoulders only to come to a stop right across her chest. Was it bad that his hands, unaware of time and place, wanted to run his fingers through it, furthermore getting his fingers all tangled up? Maybe so tangled up that he could never let her walk away again.

“Are you okay?”

Shit. For how long had he just been sitting there staring at her without saying anything?

“Oh uh- yes. Sorry. Probably just the buzz from the alcohol messing with me… You were saying?”

Luckily and to his great relief, Amy didn’t really seem to question him vanishing for a few seconds; that or she simply chose to ignore it. Either way he was good to go.

“I was saying that if you wanted to do some,” she briefly paused in order to raise her arms and form air quotes with her fingers, “ass-whooping, then the pool table is finally available.” Figuring that her intentions were implied, Amy turned on her heels before he could reply.

Ah, yes. That kind of whooping her ass… Figurative speech. It was as clear as day that she was using his own choice of words against him yet somehow he’d still manage to misunderstand it in the spur of the moment. Now was probably a good time to snap out of it, follow her to the pool table and act like he hadn’t just sat there, dazed and misinterpreting her words for the past two minutes; the second shot of mystery alcohol was quickly downed without further reconsidering before Jake pushed himself out the booth to join his friend at the vacant pool table.

To both his immense and so-so intoxicated pleasure but also rational misery, of course she was leaning over the green surface of the table in order to grab the scattered balls that hadn’t been put back in place by the previous players. With fresh intoxicants shooting through his blood, feeling his heart pumping with unruly and imprecise fluctuations, Jake paced himself closer to her stretched out figure reaching for the black 8-ball. There was no doubt in his mind; exactly this, the sight of Amy Santiago stretched out across a surface with no clue of how tauntingly the slight arch in her back enhanced the curves of her body, was a picture whose beguiled effect he’d never be able to repress. Not only for the rest of the night but also, if his brain hated him just enough, in future wandering thoughts. It was inevitable when such a beautiful picture had been presented to him.

To Jake’s relief, and after what seemed like just a bit too long for him to stay sane, Amy finally reached the black ball and pushed herself back off the table in order to put it in its designated spot with the rest of the balls. “Ready to lose?” She turned her head just enough for him to pick up on a smug smile.

“Only if you are, because that’s what I know you’re going to do,” Jake countered, going with whatever flow was building up between them again, her back on display now that she was grabbing cue sticks for them to play with; one in each hand, held by her soft hands’ firm grip that could only inflame more suggestive content for his wandering imagination.

“In your dreams, Peralta…”

Her eyes taunted him, but not obviously; more playfully, subtly as Amy Santiago would never admit to dancing with the devil though something about her dark eyes told him that she was in it to win it.  Everything going on inside his head distracted him from paying any attention to the shaft of the wooden cue stick being transferring from her grip to his. Only when her fingers swiftly brushed against his did Jake actually pay attention to the fact that he know held the object in his hands and (hypothetically) was ready to play. Meanwhile Amy had already pranced off to the far end of the table where she got into position; lightly bent over, arms resting on the edge of the table. If Jake hadn’t entirely snapped out of his daze, he did when her first shot resulted in the triangle of coloured balls shattering, sending each and everyone of them in a new direction. It was with satisfaction and a content look on her face that Amy straightened back up and pushed her hair out of her face in the midst of it all.

“Wow, that was almost not horrible,” he teased, feeling the need to bug her; there was something about her that made it impossible for him to hold back on his words.

“Shut up,” she growled, almost throwing him off guard as she pushed his shoulder with her own as she passed him with their booth as her final destination. “I’m going to down this last weird shot of yours and then you’ll be a dead man.”

And so she did. While Jake bent over the table to take a shot at the shuffled balls, he discreetly watched her snap her head back and knock down the last shot; anything she did that night was stupidly hypnotising. If Jake had had just one more drink, then maybe he would’ve forgotten to actually play and it would’ve resulted in him just standing there bent over a pool table in a half empty bar, absorbing his friend’s every move. Luckily he hadn’t; he was past tipsy but definitely not entirely drunk. Looking back down at the green fabric, feeling the cue stick in his hand was just enough for him to focus on something else than her and strike the ball before him. This was going to be a long game…

Closely eyeing each other at all times, both for competing and other unspoken reasons which presumably came from a brewing mixture of unresolved emotions, alcohol and curiousness inside their veins, Jake and Amy rhythmically followed the fate of their competition. Throughout the entire game they took turns trying to either obtain or keep the lead, which didn’t take place without a recognisable banter that reminded them of old times. Somewhere in between Jake constantly bumping into Amy on purpose, earning himself a precious laugh accompanied by a playful punch, and Amy managing to shoot one of her balls into a hole, they both agreed on getting another round of drinks. This decision was taken as if Amy wasn’t already constantly stumbling upon her own feet every time she had to stand still in order to take aim. Every time she did so Jake would lett out an intoxicated laugh. Even considering these circumstances the giddy woman still stumbled back to the pool table with a beer in each hand along with her mouth wide agape around a shot glass.

“Need help, loserago?” Jake chuckled as he came to her rescue, grabbing the shot glass from in between her teeth before tipping his head back and emptying its content into his throat.

With an expression similar to the one he’d portrayed earlier, Amy’s mouth was now wide agape in bafflement. “Hey! That was mine!” Almost like a child whose candy had just been taken from her, the woman wailed in disapproval.

“As if I didn’t see you take a shot by yourself at the bar before coming back here,” Jake accused her, his eyes small in a caricatured squint that let her know that she’d been caught in the act. It wasn’t to say if she’d suddenly forgotten about the shot that he’d taken from her, but she definitely wasn’t pleased with being caught taking an extra shot. It was almost too easy to tell from the now defensive facial expression and arms crossed in front of her chest.

“So what? I can drink two shots if I want to.”

“Not when you already had two like… twenty minutes ago plus what? Three beers?” The testifying was accompanied by a presumptuous cock of the right eyebrow and a smirk before he redirected his gaze and nodded his head in the direction of the beers in her hands. “Plus this one.”

“Are you keeping count, Peralta?” She slurred, just enough to let him know that she was definitely drunk but not enough for him to worry - not that he actually had any right to be the judge of that since he himself had the warm, happy and slightly absentminded sensation of alcohol putting a rose-colored filter on everything and everyone around him.

“Maybe…” He shrugged, smiling culpably as if didn’t matter. “… and so what?”

Somewhere deep within her, Amy was pleased to hear him confess so. It meant that he was paying attention to her and better yet, it also gave her yet another reason to tease him. “Damn, you’re obsessed with me. I mean-“ she took a step closer to him with gloat in her eyes and smile, trying to come off as demeaning but rather goading him to move in closer as well. One stop closer. Not more, not less.  “I already knew that you were like… definitely deeply,” she paused to let out a subtle hick-up, “-in love with me, but…” She continued her conquest, giggling with drunken amusement.

Impossible, he though as he dramatically tipped his head back and rolled his eyes. It had to be impossible to be this taunting, especially when he had no right to act on it. “Okay okay, Santiago. No more alcohol for you.”

Exactly as she was about to uncross her arms and take a sip of the already opened beer in her left hand, Jake grabbed both bottles from her. Instead of taking a sip herself, it took Amy a second to register what was happening and understanding that it was now her friend’s lips, instead of hers, wrapped around the head of the bottle.

“Give it back!”

“Nope,” he laughed before turning on his heels, jogging back to the opposite pool table to have it function as protection. “No more alcohol for you tonight.”

“G-give me my beer back. I’m doing f-fone,” she growled before setting off to chase him on her wobbly legs, reminding Jake of Bambi’s first time on the ice.

“Well as long as you’re fone then sure, I’ll let you drink…” Sarcasm had always been his favourite language, and Amy could only wonder why it stirred something within her every time he took advantage of a moment to show it off.  He rounded the closest corner of the table as soon as she made her way to his side. Exactly how a 5-year old would start a game of tag, the woman wasn’t allowed within a few feet of him at all times. Guess he still was a man-child even after these five years apart.

“Jake!” It was almost a shriek at this point, clearly out of annoyance but also of secret affection. All Amy could do was jog after him; round and around the pool table as a mashup of shrieks, laughs and grunts filled the air. Both of them were getting tired though there was doubt about who was the most out of shape.

“Aha!” After having rounded the entirety of the table multiple times, Amy finally caught up with an out of breath Jake allowing her to steal a bottle from where his hands (and therefor the beers) were placed on the green fabric with the intentions of taking some his heaving body’s weight off his legs.

“The winner takes it all!” She sang the iconic line before boosting herself to sit on the pool table, barely making it as her arms (in her current rather drunk state, that is) could barely carry her. Nonetheless she was now safely perched on top, her legs dangling off the side and there was nothing else for her to do but celebrate with a long swig from the bottle.

“Ames,” he let out in a breathy giggle, feeling the shot he stole from her colliding with everything else he’d been previously drinking. “Stop it.”

“Make me,” and that was where she made her first mistake. If there was something Jake Peralta would never step down from, it was a challenge - especially a challenge given by her. His mind was attuned to win, at all costs, and so he intuitively reached out to grab her right above her knee, when she in an attempt to flee was about to jump off the table.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he let out in a growl that faded into a snicker as he pushed down, enough to keep her in place but not enough to hurt her, on her leg. Even taking himself by surprise considering his previous lack of breath, Jake rapidly placed himself before her, stumbling into the space between her legs and recited the action on her other leg with his other hand. With both legs now pinned down by his strong hands gripping onto the area right above her knees, realising that his upper body was blocking her escape route before her, Amy tried to lean back onto the table in a last attempt to escape from the opposite long side of the table. Alas it was without effect; before she could even lean all the way down and attempt to roll out of his grip, his hands slid up her legs to slide his index fingers into the belt loops of her jeans instead. In a quick snap, in which there was no way either of them had time to think it through properly, Jake had pulled her back up. Making up for the space she’d created between them by actually managing to move slightly away from him,  he overcompensated by pulling her back even further towards him, leading her to place har palms against her chest for balancing purposes. With no possible control over her body at this point, too caught up in the sudden intimacy, she unconsciously gave in to whatever he did. His repositioning of her body, so close to his, reminded her of a screaming kettle signalling that the boiling point was reached. However neither seemed to take the broad hint of the metaphorical kettle. Contrary to all moral, which had unwittingly been thrown out the window just about three drinks ago, Amy’s breath hitched when she finally allowed herself to breathe out, intoxicating her friend even further in the process and evoking an accidental flinch of his fingers by which she was reminded of his grip on her. Strangely, then yet again not at all, she never wanted him to let go.

She’d always wondered how people’s eyes could grow darker from certain influences but now, seeing that she was closer to him than ever before with the tip of his nose just few inches from hers, she finally understood. Never, now that she was staring into his, had she seen eyes with such dilated pupils. Even though she was caught up in the way his stare bore right into hers, she still picked up on the hitch in his breath when she breathed out yet again, gaining her lips his eyes’s full attention. For just a moment she speculated; did he wonder what her lips felt and tasted like, just like she did about his? Either he did or it was purely an act of impulse, either way his fingers slipped out of the belt loops, causing a feeling of disappointment to sneak in on her only to be interrupted by his hands sliding back to pull her in even close by the small of her back. Just as impulsively as he’d pulled, Amy allowed it by arching her back to finally unite their eager lips. it was momentarily unbelievable. Having always been pining for each other at the wrong time, similar to how the sun and moon would always miss each other, the world around them disappeared into a black hole - not that there were that many people around this close to closing-time. Either way, it was just them and the feeling of their lips exploring each other for the first time, completely ignoring the hesitance a first kiss would usually display and instead quickly getting used to the feeling and sound of their clacking teeth as they got in to the ways of their caving, quivering lips.

Jake wasn’t even sure whether or not there was any more room left between them, but nonetheless he tried to pull her in even closer, feeling his heart flutter at the sound of a muffled glitch in the breathing. He was too caught up in savouring her lips and therefor oblivious to the fact that his pelvis was in fact already pushed up against her crotch; there was no more distance between them to erase. In the meantime Amy had felt her body tremble and given in to the fact that God yes, she wanted him as close to her as physically possible. Even though almost unable to she’d still managed to vacate her hands from their spot on his chest, nails lightly scratching his sensitive skin in the process of moving them up his neck where they found home in his messy curls.

“Has your-“ she managed to breathe out between clashes “-hair always been this-“ she was once again interrupted though this time by his teeth tugging on her bottom lip, prompting the type of tiny whiny moan that he’d secretly been dying to hear. “-curly?”

After leaving his teeth slightly sunk into her lip for another few seconds, earning him the verbal reaction he was desperately chasing and dying to hear, he let go and breathed thickly against the corner of her lips, “For the past two years or so.” The last word just barely made it out, swallowed by him going back to kissing her. The dance between their lips quickly evolved into nibbling that would soon reveal itself in the shape of tiny love bites, covering the entire space from her lips; to her neck; to the hidden spot beneath her ear which occasionally included tugging on the ear lobe which in return would earn him a what he quickly considered a beautiful compilations of ohs and ahs. He then placed a peck to the shell of her ear, “You just weren’t around to see it.”

As good as to stop her from answering he returned to kissing her lips, feeling slightly agitated from the memory of what felt like her abandoning him five years ago.

“Oh, please…” Her breath was warm against his face, slender fingers tangling themselves in the most prominent of his curls before lightly, just enough for it to shoot through his entire nervous system, pulling on them. “You never wanted me to just see-“ a bite to her neck, the hardest one so far, cut her off. “Shit, Jake,” she hissed partly from pain, partly from pleasure. Though she couldn’t witness it herself, a very pleased smile grew on her partner’s lips. There was something about being able to make her squirm and react the way she just did that drove him absolutely mad. Never had he ever consumed drugs, but he couldn’t help but compare this moment to a high. He suddenly didn’t mind being addicted…

There was no way for either of them to recall how or even when they’d left the warm interiors of the bar. All that Amy knew was that she definitely felt ice cold bricks, probably ones belonging to a wall in a dark alley, pressed against her back. More likely was it that she was pressed up against the brick wall, sandwiched between that and Jake’s figure. Their current location made just as much sense as what they were doing, but then again they obviously hadn’t worried much about the whole kissing-thing so why worry about the alley?

A cold rain had been drizzling from the sky ever since they set a foot outside, causing Jake’s messy curls to fall flat against his forehead. Every once in a while, either caused by movement or simply the time it took for a drop to slide all the way down, their fighting lips would hitch at the sensation of an icy driblet of winter rain. Sometimes it’d miss their attached lips and instead explode on her hands that held onto the collar of his coat as if it were her lifeline. Unexplainably so, though Amy suspected that it’d never actually been closed, her jacket was wide open. This, more than anything else, welcomed Jake to reach for the burgundy dress shirt only to bury his hands under it in the hunt of two things: her and heat. Needless to say that he found both, plus a bit more, when he felt her body shudder beneath his cold hands.  “Sorry,” he mumbled lazily, slowing down the pace of his kisses before redirecting them towards an area that was yet to be fully discovered.

“It’s o-okay,” her voice trembled from a mixture of cold and the overwhelming feeling of being touched for the first time in what seemed like forever. All these caresses and feelings were only in addition to it finally being by the right pair of hands and lips, which meant more than anything else.

“You’re-“ Jake murmured deeply against her cheek as his cold fingers picked at the soft, warm skin of her stomach before removing them to fiddle with the bottom button of her shirt, “-amazing.”

His fingers, though controlled by his buzzed brain, quickly managed to pop open the button; the pattern quickly repeated itself and before Amy could object, this considering she didn’t actually want to, Jake pulled the now two fragments of burgundy fabric apart to reveal the ultimate motive. Before him reigned the sight of her soft curves of her stomach and waist, looking just as he’d dreamed of many times before. The smooth narrowing of her waist lead his gaze up to what, in that specific moment, was without a doubt the world’s most beautiful pair of breast. Held by a lacy yet elegant black bra, he could see just enough to know that Amy was perfect.

It wasn’t news to either of them that whatever they were doing took a lot of breathing and therefor resulted in many huffs and puffs. Yet seeing Amy’s almost bare chest heave in an almost violent, exasperated constant up-and-down pattern was something Jake would never forget. He did that; he could make her body react like this. In the midst of simply taking it all in, Amy allowed herself to pull him in an attempt to win some control by nibbling at his neck as her hands were messily searching for whatever part of him that would provide her the most warmth.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded in-between the contact between skin and lips, resulting in herself being denied the badly needed access to his neck when he slid his hands into her hair, tugged back her head and kissed her lips once before travelling downwards to repeat the action on her exposed collarbone. The warmth of his lips in contrast to her icy skin earned him the sound of a hiss of pleasure. Following touch of his lips pressed to the middle of her throat before the next took a deep plunge to land right above her cleavage.

“Fuck,” she cursed when he took another chance by nibbling at the top of her left breast, redirecting her hand to the back of his neck to hold him in place; screw hiding from the cold February rain. She could feel goosebumps all over her body; from top to toe, there was no denying that she was indeed giving up every sense of concern about her own health. Some would probably say that it was stupid; it probably really was, but on the other hand there was no such thing as considering anything twice when Jake Peralta was making you feel everything you’d never felt before in a dark alley at two in the morning.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he managed to breathe out in between kisses travelling from the brand new hickey on her left breast back to her by now very swollen, pink lips. Normally Amy had a no hickey-policy, although tonight there was nothing she wanted more than for Jake to paint her entire body with warm kisses, scratching teeth and imprinting hands.

“I know,” she breathed back, taking in how sweet not only his lips tasted but also his words. Her hand that had previously held onto his hair swiftly slipped down to cup his face as to hold it close like she was hanging on for dear life, which she to some extent actually was; he made her feel so alive.

“Wish this could last forever,” was mumbled against the sensitive shell of her ear before pecking it as if nothing had been said, casually travelling down to leave new bites to her delicious skin. Alas…  Whereas the cold had been possible to ignore because of the heat she felt from the rush and him alone was distracting enough, a bucket of ice suddenly seemed to drop upon her - literally and metaphorically. Literally because she was pretty sure the rain had evolved to tiny snowflakes because of the dropping temperature; metaphorically because this couldn’t last forever. Jake was engaged; she was currently hooking up with someone else’s husband-to-be.

It wasn’t exactly news to her, but whether she’d spend the night consciously repressing it or simply had forgotten in the heat of it all, Amy was sure of one thing; it was very wrong.

“Jake,” she panicked, feeling her heart pick up a bad kind of irrational pace. Never before had she sobered up so fast. Jake on the other hand continuously stained her neck, simply letting out a hum of acknowledgement. “We need- we need to stop.” Her hands involuntarily dropped from her before desperate grip on his face, down to his shoulder in an attempt to push him off of her. As soon as his brain had combined her words with the physical resistance, Jake drew back to stand up straight, looking at her with glazed eyes and bruised lips. Lips that she had bruised, she couldn’t help but think as she took in the sight before her.

“Are you okay?” He was clearly worried about her sudden snap, though still lightly dazed from both alcohol and the sudden lack of touch.

Deep down she knew, she was even sure of the fact, that he wasn’t a bad guy; he’d rather die than cause her any pain. But looking at his current state suddenly stung as it now symbolised the infidelity and cruelty she’d brought upon his life. Poor Sophia was probably at home, trusting that the love of her life was just out having a drink and a good time, meanwhile he was actually making out with his ex-partner in one of Brooklyn’s many dark alleys.

“I’m-,” an icy breeze reminded her of her open shirt, reminding her to immediately wrap the fabric back around her to both keep her warm but also hide the parts of her body that he should never had gotten access to. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I-“ words struggled to form in her mouth, her chest heaving from the rising anxiety and inability to breath properly. How could one talk her way out of this?

“Ames, d-don’t be. It’s not your-“ he started to plead, slowly sobering up and trying to save her from the guilt that was already eating her alive. The fact was though that it was hopeless; Amy was determined to get out of there as fast as possible. The sooner he was out of sight, the sooner she could work on moving on and make sure no one else ever found out about this tragedy. The last thing he saw was a drop of water sliding down her cheek, making him wonder whether it was a tear or the remains of what used to be a snowflace. Before he could get an answer, or even just get to ask, she was running away into the night.

“Amy!” he yelled desperately, shocked to an extent that kept his feet from moving, furiously running his hands through his wet hair in anger and frustration. Was he mad because he’d cheated on his future wife aka. the person who he was supposed to vow his life and love to? Or was he mad, because he’d cheated on his future wife aka. the person who he was supposed to vow his life and love to, when actually he wanted to give all that to someone else? All in all:

What the fuck had he done?

[mccrps]

We’ll Always Have Tinder | A Theo Raeken AU

A/N: WOW SOOOOOOOOO! I got THIS request and I honestly love it, it’s hella cheese & corn & I love you anon for requesting this.

Warning: Some language, me attempting to be funny, nothing really.

Word Count: 1,552

Ding!

You eyed your phone curiously, already getting used to the tone associated with the terrible app called Tinder. You had downloaded it for laughs,but you knew exactly what the app was. A hookup app. And you had no intention of hooking up with anyone. You had just gotten out of a messy relationship a few weeks prior so dating someone -- hell even meeting up with someone was out of the question. So you’d decided while yes you wanted to have some fun, you were definitely not leaving your house to do it.

Then you saw this video of some girl trolling guys on Tinder and you knew exactly how to occupy your time. As soon as you set up your account you sat there for hours at a time, looking at everyone’s profile, some cute guys, some not so cute guys. Your camera roll was filled with the screenshots of the hilarious convos you’d sent to your friends. 

You were having fun for the first time in a long time. This was just a game to you, there was no pressure, no awkward silences in front of people you didn’t know. No potential heartbreaks. Just cocky guys who thought they ruled the world. 

Jeremy, (age) 10 miles away

Info

6′3″

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ - “A perfect gentleman.” - Anonymous Tinder woman

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ - “Made 50 Shades of Grey seem as a tame as the teletubbies.” - Anonymous Tinder woman

⭐ - “Stop asking me to review you weirdo.” - Anonymous Tinder woman

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐  - “So sweet.” - Jeremy’s mom

The bio alone made you swipe right, a soft snort escaping your nose as you did so. You looked through his pictures and he wasn’t a head turner, but he clearly had a sense of humor, something you saw as a plus for a person. Not that you were looking, but if you were going to spend all of your time on this app, you’d at least spend it with people who would keep the laughs coming.

You were on your couch, a forgotten movie playing in the background as you mindlessly swiped left and right on some new profiles, not even bothering to look at their bios anymore. You were getting bored of it. It had only been a couple days but your terrible pick up lines to the guys you’ve matched with and their sad excuse of holding a conversation just weren’t amusing you like it did in the beginning.

And then you stopped on one profile. You didn’t know why you stopped. His pictures were of low quality, a tell-tale sign that he was probably a catfish. His bio only had a few sentences. Nothing catchy, nothing extravagant. Just a normal guy.

Before you changed your mind you swiped right, your screen lighting up to tell you you’d matched. 

You went to your messages, seeing his name at the top.

Theo. 

You quickly typed a corny pickup line, not really caring that you’d used it a million times already.

“If you were a cat, I’d spend all nine lives with you.”

You sent it and placed your phone down, trying to get back into whatever movie you were watching. 

Ding!

Your eyes fell on your phone again. There was no way he answered so quickly. It must’ve been another guy with some dumb reply. 

“And how exactly do I die each time?”

You blinked at your phone screen, unable to believe or even process what he had said. Not only was it uncommon but no one had tried to make a conversation out of it. 

None until now.

You completely spaced for a moment, not prepared for this situation at all. You had just guessed the guys on here would write you off as a troll and completely ignore your antics. And yet, here was the one who didn’t.

Opening your phone, the keyboard waiting for your reply. 

“Well, basically we crash someone’s wedding and we’re in the middle of a conga line, floors wet because someone spilled alcohol and you fall and crack your head open. There’s the first.”

“Wow. For some reason I always knew a death of mine would be alcohol related. I just never imagined it like that though.”

“These are tough times, Theo. Tough times. You decide your next death.”

You saw the gray dots as he typed his next message, for some reason you were anxious to see what he’d say. 

“Nickelodeon brought back the TV show figure it out and we get our first taste of the green slime. After that I become addicted to slime and overdose within the next two weeks. You tried to stop it from happening. But I’m stubborn as hell. I die. Next life.”

You hadn’t realized it then, but that was the exact moment that Theo stole your heart. 

You sent a bunch of crying emojis as you laughed, typing up your next reply.

“FIGURE IT OUT OMG. That brings us to death number 3. The villagers from the legends of hidden temple kidnapped you and never released you. Your bones are on display at Universal Studios.”

“Wow I can’t believe those sick bastards would keep the skeleton of a cat.”

You keep messaging back and forth, the outside world was irrelevant for one tiny moment. You talk about mindless things, like Pokemon Go and what you both do for a living. You debated on whether McDonalds or Wendys was better. Obviously the golden arches won because you were quote unquote all about those 20 piece nuggets. 

“Alright, alright. How about this. If my Pokedex is lower than yours then you let me take you out sometime. And by that I mean McDonald’s drive thru and if you are extra cute maybe I’ll drive to Wendy’s too.”

“You’re an idiot. But tell me. What’s your Pokedex look like?”

“It’s not that much, my phone broke and I didn’t get a new one for the two weeks during the hype. I’ve only caught 69. And no I didn’t type 69 to be a weird creepy douchefuck.”

“First off, what the hell is a douchefuck? Second yours is definitely lower than mine.”

“So.....McDonald’s or Wendy’s?”

“Do you take all the girls to either Wendy’s or McDonald’s? Just curious.”

“Only the special ones like you bae. Cause you deserve it.”

“Lmao. You’re an idiot. Well what are you doing now?”

“I’m actually at work right now. In my hiding spot. In the bathroom.”

“In the bathroom???”

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud to that, trying to picture it in your head.

“Yeah so I’m in the stall and the person next to me has a bad case of constipation and was definitely weirded out by me laughing. Pretty sure he thought I was laughing at him but it was just the thought of death #8. I wanted to explain it to him to cheer him up but I don’t think talking to a coworker about how I’m dying 9 times with a girl I just met would go over well.”

“We’re close to the end of the list.”

“I know. This is sad. Do we just stop messaging each other after death #9?”

“We could and then constantly come back to this convo and sigh while thinking, well, we’ll always have Tinder.”

He sent a heart over, making you smile a little.

“JK we’re making another list, pshh.”

“I might retire from Tinder after this convo just so it always stays on top.”

You rolled your eyes at his charm, a thought crossing your mind. 

“How long have you been on the app?”

You were curious to know the answer not that it mattered.

“A while. But this is the best conversation I’ve ever had on here. It’s your turn.”

You were satisfied with his answer, knowing that his time on there didn’t matter, not really. 

“Okay. Death #9. We’re watching Family Guy and it’s the episode where Peter is on the roof in a shopping cart and Lois comes out yelling and he’s like get back in the house Lois we’re being Jackass and he looks into the camera and he’s like I’m Peter Griffin and this is shopping cart roof...roof shopping cart. And then he falls off the roof and his neck is all distorted. So we placed a bet that you could do it and not get hurt. You bet you wouldn’t. I bet you would. Obviously I won but I couldn’t collect my winnings because you landed funny and broke your neck just like Peter did.”

All he sent back to you was the ring emoji. Making you laugh even more.

“Just say yes.”

“You haven’t even properly asked me out on a date. You can’t just throw a ring emoji to any girl.”

“What? I thought we had a date planned. 20 piece did that mean nothing to you?!”

You just sent back a bunch of laughing emojis, shaking your head.

“I think we’re moving too slow. I’m sorry it’s just not working out.”

“Oh silly me and here I was planning our whole life together. My bad.”

“We’ll always have Tinder.”

“We’ll always have Tinder. Also sidebar. Really? Only 69 Pokemon caught? Wow you’re terrible.”

You smiled to yourself, not exactly sure what was going to come out of this but pushed those thoughts away quickly, looking at the gray dots as Theo typed.