#every morning I sip my silly little coffee while god eats my heart like a pomegranate in front of me

[aleksanderro2]

three drawings from a really awful day that ended with a friend holding my hand from far away

[please-buckme]

A Broken Heart.

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter 4

Chapter warnings: none.

Chapter summary: You and Lee try and hash things out but there’s more to Lee than meets the eye.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

The drive started off very awkward and completely quiet. You both cleared your throats from time to time to defuse the tension, which didn’t make a lick of a difference. It’d been years since you rode in Lee’s cruiser and the last time you sat in that very seat he’d broken up with you. Your chest heaved at the memory. You still felt the phantom tears against your cheeks when he drove you to your house. Never would you have guessed you’d be right back here at his beck and call. You thought you were stronger than that, clearly not.

You thought Lee’s hold over you had disintegrated a while after you left town, but clearly it hadn’t. He says jump and you say how high. Your breath hitched in your throat at the thought of it. He looked over at you which made you look over at him. His eyes were still that piercing blue that always left you speechless. His teeth were just as white as you’d remembered as you watched him toss a piece of candy in his mouth and grin.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, girl?”

You swallowed hard, “Heard you ain’t drinkin’ much these days. That why you’re eatin’ t candy now?”

He scoffed, “How did you get from drinkin’ ta candy? I can’t just have candy for no reason or just because I like the sweet taste on my tongue?” He smirked and suck the piece of candy into his right cheek. You watched him toss it around cheek to cheek before he spoke again, “And who told you that, anyway?”

You followed your arms and turned your gaze out the passenger side window, unable to answer him while watching him seductively eat a piece of candy, “I have my sources and I don’t ever remember you keepin’ a whole fuckin’ bag of candies in your car, is’ll.”

“Fuckin’ Karl.” He mumbled under his breath, trying to stay out of ear shout but you still heard him, “I stopped by Sandy’s on my way in and she gave me the candy, happy?” He asks rhetorically with a hint of sarcasm.

“Elated.” You answer him dryly anyway, “Why’re we goin to Ruby’s when there’re plenty of diners in town and are you even allowed to take the cruiser this far outta town, Bodecker?”

He sighs, “Why so many questions? I feel like I’m being interrogated.” He asks, already knowing the answer. When you’re nervous you can’t stop anything that passes your lips. You don’t like awkward silence and you’ll do anything to not have to sit in it. He always found that kind of annoying but aslo adorable at the same time. Eventually you’d start messing with his pens and steal a piece of his candy.

“Because I don’t trust you and I sure as hell don’t believe that bullshit about us ‘talkin things out so we can live in the same town again.’”

“Well, can you believe that maybe I just wanna catch up?” He asks, becoming a little frustrated.

“Why Ruby’s?” You repeated, stealing a piece of candy as Lee predicted. He missed having you around, he just wished it were under different circumstances.

“Because it’s your favorite.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered or something, that you remember my favorite diner?”

“Okay, you win. I officially regret this.” He sighs, slapping his hand down on the steering wheel. He seems annoyed but not angry. You watch his annoyed expression fall on you as he sighs. For some unknown reason you burst out laughing, leaning against the passenger door.

He laughs, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing it’s just.. you’ve changed so much and yet not at all. I still know every look and every sigh and.. every move you’re gonna make before you even do it. It’s kinda refreshing.. but I still hate you.” You watch his face turn up into a smirk, displaying his gorgeous teeth. He almost looked pained as if he hadn’t smiled in decades.

“God, I missed you.” He admitted, immediately clearing his throat. He didn’t mean to say it aloud but it clearly wasn’t up to him anymore, his heart was speaking for him too. He watched you fiddle with the candy wrapper as you processed what he said.

You could feel his hesitance. Did he really miss you or was it just him trying to make you feel comfortable? You didn’t know how to respond, so all you said was, “Okay.”

//

Once you got to the diner, Lee rushed you to the back booth. You knew why, of course. Everyone in town seemed to be appalled with your very existence, as if you’d done something. You wondered if they actually knew why they didn’t particularly like you or if they were just following the crowd. Like if one person were to speak on your behalf and say you’re a nice girl if people would treat you differently. You just have to find that one person.

Lee sat across from you in the sparkly red, plush booth, you thought he looked kind of silly, big, professional man in a tiny glittery booth, but you kept that to yourself. The waitress came by and gave you both a menu, taking your drink orders before walking away. You scanned over the many different food items, suddenly remembering you hadn’t had anything to eat all day. It was eight in the morning and all you could think about was the pancakes.

You eyed the pancake special, becoming a bit more giddy than expected and Lee noticed.

“What’re you so happy for?” He asked with a goofy smile of his own.

“Nothing, I just haven’t had breakfast and the thought of pancakes excites me, is’ll.”

Lee chuckled, “You can get whatever you want, doll. It’s on me.”

“Damn right it’s on you. This was your idea.” You remind him just before the waitress comes by with your drinks; two waters and a coffee.

“What’re we havin’?” She asks.

“Just coffee for me and pancakes for this one.” He says with a tilt of his head towards you.

“S’at all?” She asks, both of you nod. She takes your menus and walks away again.

“So, what did you wanna talk about, Bodecker?” You ask, taking a sip of your water.

“First of all, you’re killin’ me with this ‘Bodecker’ and ‘Sheriff’ shit just say my goddamn name.”

“Hmm, remind me what it was again?” You pretend to think, tapping your index finger against your chin.

“Lee!” He’s genuinely annoyed now.

“That’s right. Um, no. I think ‘Bodecker’ and ‘Sheriff’ work just fine, more professional, if you will.” You begin to fidget with the straw in your water, twirling it around in the ice. You didn’t like how this conversation started, you felt suddenly pressured to do something you didn’t wanna do and that made you nervous.

“Why are you bein’ like this?” He asked with a confused expression on his face.

“You wanna know why?” You came on a little stronger than expected as you felt your cheeks heat up. For being the one to cause your awkward situation, you didn’t think Lee would need an explanation. You were a little applaud he’d even ask for one, especially knowing what a touchy subject it is for you.

“Well, if you’re gonna get all pissy, then no.” He put his hands out in protest, giving you a bewildered look, wouldn’t wanna upset the Sheriff, now would we..?

You sighed, “I’m sorry, it’s just- I haven’t said your name once since.. the last time we..” you trailed off.

“’The last time we’ what? What do you mean?”

“Can we just drop it? I wanna talk about how we’re gonna deal with me living in town. You gotta get people to stop ignorin’ me or actin’ like I’m some exotic animal they ain’t never seen before.”

He chuckled, “what do you mean? How they act like you’re ’some exotic animal’?”

“They stare at me in awe, mouths wide open, along with their eyes. You’d think I’m famous or somethin’.”

“Well, I guess in Knockemstiff, you might just be famous.” He grinned.

“Thanks for that. Just put on my tombstone ‘here lies the girl who got dumped by the Sheriff’... that’s my legacy.” You fade off, thinking of how tragic that actually sounded. You suddenly felt a burning in your chest. Your anger was building and you knew just who to let it out on.

“No, that’s not your lega-“

“Why me, huh?” You ask before letting him finish. “Outta all the girls to torment, why me?”

“Because I loved you.” He said with glossy eyes as if he’d wanted to say that to you in particular for so long.

“You sure as shit coulda fooled me. I’ve wasted a lot of time on you, Bodecker. I mean when we dated and after we broke up. I was a mess and the only person to make it better was you and.. and you never showed up.”

“You don’t think I wanted to?” He asked, losing his temp on you.

“No, I don’t, not because you loved me, anyway. If anything you only would’ve showed up as a way to forgive yourself.”

He scoffed, “How could you possibly think that?”

“Because.. you gave up on caring about me and my feeling the second you chose her. The second you agreed to be with her, behind my back, and dump me, is the second you lost the privilege of being my person.”

“If I could go back in time and undo what I did, I would. I’m sorry, y/n. I really am.”

“For what? For what you did or for how it turned out?”

He sighed, “Both.”

“I know you’re miserable and I know you don’t love her. So, did you really give up on us because you were power hungry? Being Sheriff meant more to you than our future together?” Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to fall.

“Yes, but I regretted it the second I saw the first tear you cried that day. I wanted nothin’ more than to take it back, say I was jokin’ or somethin’ but I couldn’t. The look you gave me in that moment.. I knew I’d already lost you. And yes, I think about where we’d be if I didn’t completely ruin us.” He faded off as he told you the daydreams that never leave his mind, “I picture us renovating your momma’s house, puttin’ up a white picket fence, havin’ a couple babies on your hips, my babies. Everyday I imagine it’s you I drive home to, not Laura-Jean. Sometimes I just picture you sittin’ on the porch with me on a hot day drinkin’ your momma’s famous sweet tea. And if I close my eyes I can see you laughin’ and with sun shinin’ right down on you, kissin’ your beautiful skin.”

You look around awkwardly, trying so hard not to make eye contact. If you make eye contact you’re done for, he might as well take you out of the diner that second because you’re good as fucked. You wanted to believe every word Lee said, you wanted to chop them up and eat them with your pancakes, but you can’t. He did you so wrong in the past that you just don’t think you’ll ever believe him or trust him in the future.

Lee looked at you pained but you couldn’t see it.Your eyes counted the speckled dots on the table in front of you, desperate not to look up, until. “Y/n, look at me.” And you did. Why did you look up? “You loved me in a way no one ever had and I fucked it up. I’m truly, deeply sorry for that, y/n. Whether I’m sayin’ it more for me or you, I don’t know but just know that I live with this mistake everyday of my miserable life. But, hey, at least I’m the Sheriff right?” He joke, giving you a sad smirk.

The sadness in his blue eyes made you want to crumble, get up from your seat and wrap him in your arms, but you don’t. All you can think about is how he reacted when you wore the same except look.

“Yeah, at least you got what you wanted, besides the picket fence and two healthy boys to call your own, and me. Happily married and sun kissed” You brushed it off as if his daydreams of you being married with children meant nothing to you, when really your entire body was buzzing. “And, just so you know, I’m way past needing to hear your apology. Right now I wanna eat my pancakes and work this shit out. Being gawked at like an exotic animal has gotten old. I’d like to be invisible again.”

He gave you a weak smile, “Okay.”

“Alright, here’s your pancakes and syrup. Can I get you anything else?” The waitress asked after handing you the warm plate of pancakes.

“You chocolate milkshake for the road, Doll.” He smiled up at, making you miss the loving smile he used to give you.

“Comin right up, enjoy.”

You talked, well, Lee talked while you ate and came up with a plan. Anytime he heard someone in town gossiping or spreading rumors he would interfere and steer the conversation in another direction. He said he couldn’t exactly defend you because it would look bad, especially during the campaign season and word would get back to Laura-Jean.

“Has she asked you not to talk to me yet?” You asked, stuffing your face with the last bite of pancakes.

“How’d you know?” He wondered.

“I was her best friend for 15 years, I know how she is.”

“You know about her crush on me when we was datin’?”

“Nope.”

“I can’t believe you never saw it. I knew she liked me before I knew you liked me.” He admitted.

You felt a blush creep across your cheeks, “Why not date her then? Woulda saved us a lot of heartache, don’t ya think?” You grinned but felt the pit in your stomach expand, again.

“Girl, I knew I loved you the second you said my name. That’s why I wanna hear you say it so badly. It sounds so sweet comin’ from your lips.”

You cleared your throat, desperately trying not to fall for his games, “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Sayin’ your name is like a sin to me.”

“You never minded sinnin’ a little when you were with me, what changed?”

“Check please!” You motioned for the waitress. “I’m not feeding into this, Bodecker. I’ve played your mind games and I lost. You just worry about gettin’ everyone off my back and Laura-Jean won’t ever hear of us speakin’ or seein’ each other again, because we won’t be doin’ either.”

“You’re no fun.” He frowned.

“I used to be and look where it got me; Heartbroken and alone.” The waitress brought the check and the chocolate milkshake to go, “I’ll be in the car.” You said before standing from the booth and leaving the Diner.

The car was locked when you got there, so you stood and waited, twirling the straw around in the shake. You could help but think about Lee. How could he be so nonchalant about your past relationship?

Yours and Lee’s relationship meant everything to you. He was your first serious boyfriend and the love of your life. You felt like that meant nothing to him. Like you were some chick he had on the side for those 3 years y’all dated.

You sighed, taking a sip of your milkshake. Even with how angry he makes you, your mind slips away to the daydreams he has about you. He pictured y’all being married, which was no surprise to you because you guys talked about getting married all the time when you dated.

You closed your eyes, picturing it all. Two rowdy, little boys playing in the front yard, Lee sitting next to you on the porch swing with his arm wrapped around your waist. You could hear his boyish life ringing in your ears.

You were so lost in the daydream you hadn’t heard Lee walk up. You didn’t even know he was near you until you smelled his familiar musk and felt his hand touch your waist. Now you knew he was close, but before you could even think to open your eyes, Lee gently pressed his lips to yours in a quick peck, resting his forehead against yours when he pulled away. You hadn’t reacted the way you thought. You thought you’d recoil, spit in his face or throw your milkshake in his face. Instead, you felt the milkshake slip from your fingers, falling to the dusty ground as you grabbed his face, bringing him in for another kiss.

This kiss was deeper. You both felt every emotion you’d had bottled up for so long. Every tear that you shed and every crack in your heart was being mended just by the feel of his lips. You missed the feel of his freshly shaved, aftershave covered skin against your hands, the feel of his lips and how ridiculously plump and pink they were, or the little grunts he makes when you scratch at the nape of his neck.

You felt his protruding belly press against yours, pinning you up against the cruiser. The kiss became deeper once his tongue entered your mouth, causing you both to moan at the familiar tastes you both shared.

“T-take me home.” You pant against his lips.

“I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go.”

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

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Dm to be tagged :)

[thunder-at-dawn]

Hidden Book, Hidden Giggles

word count: 2,448

summary: tommy has a plan, and gets his brother involved. things are going very well, and wilbur is very proud of himself...until the plan fails.

it’s currently 3:30 in the morning when i’m typing this, so i’m not typing a proper intro OR spellchecking this until later. no beta we die like wilbur does in this fic /j anyway buckle up because i was VERY mean to wilbur in this one

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

Tommy had a great idea.

Well, in his opinion, it was great.

And that idea...was to fuck with Techno all day.

Of course, Tommy fucked with people all the time. He was Tommy, that’s what he would do. However, tonight, Tommy felt like being a little bit more of an annoying little shit than he normally was.

Naturally, he went to Wilbur for help. His plan that he had come up with relied on the power of teamwork. Wilbur agreed to help out, reluctant at first. However, nothing was wrong with a little extra amusement that was provided by Techno slowly losing his cool. Both of them had also convinced Phil to help with the plan, which Wilbur had no idea how he managed to get him on bored.

The plan was very simple, but very effective. The three of them would each steal something from Techno that night, and then continuously hide it from him around the house all day. While Techno had gone outside to practice his swordsmanship, they each snagged an item from his room. Wilbur grabbed the book that Techno was currently reading, Tommy took his crown, and Phil stole his reading glasses. When Techno came back inside after hours of practice, he was too worn out to suspect a thing.

The next morning, the first thing Wilbur did when he woke up was to check and make sure that Techno hadn’t already foiled his plans. He let out a happy sigh of relief to see that the book was still where he had hidden it: in a small cabinet drawer inside his closet. He had opened it to a random page to take up less vertical space, and it was the perfect size to be stowed away.

Things continued like normal. Wilbur got dressed, headed downstairs, said hello to Phil and Tommy, and started prepping breakfast for himself. Not much was happening in their household today. He had planned to stay home, and as far as he was aware, Phil and Techno planned to do the same. Tommy had plans to spend the night at Tubbo’s place, but it wasn’t until the evening that he had to leave. As he cracked an egg over the frying pan on the stove, Techno came shuffling into the room.

“Morning, Techno!” Phil greeted as he took a sip from his mug of coffee. Techno nodded in response, heading straight for the cabinet and pulling out a box of wheat cereal. He flipped the box over, squinting and reading through the words on the back, before walking over to Tommy, who was sitting at the table and eating a sugary cereal of some sort.

The young teen looked up, an eyebrow raising. “...What?” He asked with a mouthful of cereal and milk.

“Tommy, I need you to read the contents of this box of cereal for me.” Techno told him.

“Can’t you just...do it yourself?” Tommy questioned.

“Normally, I would, but I can’t find my reading glasses anywhere.” Techno sighed with annoyance. “I can barely make out anything on this box.”

“Do you know where you last left them?” Phil asked Techno.

“I swore I left them in their case on my nightstand, but when I woke up this morning, they weren’t inside.” He explained.

“That’s...weird. Very, very strange.” Tommy said, pretending not to know the truth. Wilbur could feel his heart beating fast as he caught Techno staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but huffed out a quick sigh of relief when Techno only said good morning to him, and nothing more. As Tommy read out the statistics labeled on the cereal box, he silently hoped to himself that he and the other two would be able to keep their acts up all day.

After breakfast, Wilbur headed into his room, both to relax and to keep guard. He grabbed his guitar, closed the door, and sat cross legged on the his bed, starting to play. He had a couple of ideas for songs, and would play around with the notes that he strummed. His family would peek open the door and visit, chatting briefly. Techno even walked by and chatted with him, still not suspecting anything.

After a few hours of playing and relaxing, he opened the door, leaving the room to get a snack. As he made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen, he found Tommy hunched over one of the counters.

“Hey, Tommy! What’s up?” Wilbur asked, stepping closer and opening the door to the fridge.

Tommy looked up, smiling as he saw his older brother. It looked like he was...out of breath? A bit strange, but Wilbur didn’t question. “Ah, Wilbur! Hey. How’s your part of the plan going?”

“Great.” Wilbur smirked as he pulled an apple out from the drawer in the refrigerator. “Technoblade came by, we had a nice little chat about swordfighting, and he hasn’t questioned anything from me since.” He said to Tommy, closing the refrigerator door now.

“What about you? How are things going?” He turned away to pick at the sticker on the apple and awaited Tommy’s response, but didn’t get one. He looked up, curious. “...Tommy?”

“Yeah...about that...Techno, um, got the crown back.”

“What? How?”

“I...he walked in on me trying it on in the mirror.” Tommy huffed, embarrassed.

“...Oh my god.” Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the silliness of this situation.

“I- I didn’t let him take it away from me so easily, though!” Tommy reassured, a pink tint on his face. “I ran around the room to get it away from him, but he managed to nag it. Not without me putting up a fight, I would never hand it over to him. Did you not hear me yelling at him and telling him how he would never get it back? We were pretty fuckin’ loud!”

“Mm, no.” Wilbur shrugged. “I had my door closed and was playing guitar, so I didn’t hear you guys.”

“Wow, okay.” Tommy blinked in surprise. “Well, he’s onto you next, so good luck. You’ll need it.”

“...Alright, thanks.” Wilbur shrugged as the two of them headed out of the kitchen.

Wilbur went back upstairs, apple in hand as he closed the door behind him. Instead of playing the guitar this time, he went ahead and put a music disc into the jukebox. The beats of pigstep played throughout the room as Wilbur sat on his bed, opening up a spare notebook, which had sporadic notes about possible song lyrics. He jotted down his ideas, nodding his head to the beat of the music. Probably about fifteen minutes had passed when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in!” He called out. Opening the door was Phil, who, like Tommy earlier, looked like he was out of breath. It was quite strange, Wilbur thought.

“Wilbur, hey mate.” His father greeted him. “So, would it be okay if you were the one to drop Tommy off at Tubbo’s later?”

“What? Yeah, that’s fine.” Wilbur nodded. “What, did something happen?”

“Yeah, I’m just...” Phil paused, looking left and right, as if he was being secretive. “I’m just a little worn out.” He said, putting his hand on the doorknob, about to close the door shut with no further explanation.

However, before Phil could close the door, he was stopped by a hand wrapping around his own. Looking up, he saw Techno intensely glaring at him.

“Keep the door open, Phil. I’d like to talk to my brother.” Techno said politely. Phil chuckled softly (and, by the sound of it, a bit nervously), nodding as he walked away, leaving the two alone. Wilbur looked up as Techno entered the room and closed the door behind him. What made Wilbur feel especially uneasy, however, was that he was wearing his reading glasses.

“...Techno.”

“Wilbur.”

“You...I see you found your glasses.” Wilbur said, feeling nervous already.

“Indeed I did.” Techno nodded, walking over and turning off the jukebox. “And you won’t believe where I found them.”

“Oh, really? Where?”

“They were in Phil’s nightstand cabinet. Turns out, he had stolen them from me. Just like Tommy had stolen my crown.” He said, making direct eye contact with Wilbur. “Now, the one last thing I’m missing is my book, and I was wondering if you had any clue where it was.”

“...Nope.” Wilbur looked down at his notebook.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Wilbur.” Techno rolled his eyes. “I know you took it.”

“I didn’t! Seriously!” Wilbur said, the nervousness setting in and becoming evident in his voice. “You can check my entire bookshelf, man. It’s not gonna be there.”

And that’s exactly what Techno did. He made a beeline for Wilbur’s bookshelf, scanning through each and every book. Pulling a few off of the shelf to investigate further, he went through the full thing as Wilbur simply hummed to himself and wrote down more lyrics.

“See? Exactly what I told you, it’s not there.” Wilbur said a bit smugly, proud that he was currently in the right. Techno huffed, starting to dig through other various things in Wilbur’s room, but not anywhere near the closet. At one point, Wilbur felt his heart fill with fear as Techno opened the closet door, but he only looked in there briefly, and didn’t do a full fledged look through, simply closing the closet door afterwards.

“...This is taking too long.” Techno grumbled.

“I’m telling you, I don’t have your book.” Wilbur lied. “You’re not going to find it in here.”

“You know what? Alright. It didn’t have to come to this, but you’re being stubborn.” In a swift movement, he grabbed Wilbur’s notebook and pen, tossing them to the side, then quickly grabbed Wilbur by the shoulders, lightly pushing him down and then grabbing his wrists, holding them above his head. Wilbur gasped in surprise, snapping his head up and looking at his brother.

“Now, Wilbur. Tommy refused to give me my crown, and Phil wouldn’t tell me where my glasses were. So, now, I’m going to use a strategy that I used on both of them, and it worked on both of them.” Techno explained calmly.

With that, Wilbur simply scoffed, a smirk on his face. “Oh yeah? And what would that be?” He asked, acting confident.

“Hmm...acting cocky now, are we? I’m not sure if you want to act that way right now, Wilbur.” Techno moved so that he was now sitting next to Wilbur on the bed as he laid down, and held his two hands above him with only one of his own. Wilbur did his best to relax, but the feeling of not knowing what his brother had planned was making him nervous. He stayed calm though...until he suddenly felt a hand squeezing at his right hip.

Wilbur inhaled sharply, giggling lightly and attempting to shift away from the hand. “T-TeHECHno! Whahat are you dohohoihing?!”

“Well, what does it look like I’m doing?” The piglin asked.

“Y-You’re squhuehehezing my hihihip.”

“Squeezing? That’s weird. The answer is that I’m tickling you, that’s supposed to tickle.” Techno muttered. “But, apparently, that’s not what you think, so I need to change that.” As he started clawing at Wilbur’s stomach, his eyes widened, and giggling turned into laughter.

“WA-WAHAIT- Wahahaihit! TehehechnOHOHO!” Wilbur started to squirm around, bringing his knees towards himself as an attempt to protect himself.

“Yes?” He asked, eyeing his brother.

“Yohohou’re- aHA- TeHEHechnoHO-!”

“Unable to form coherent sentences, are we? Well, I need you to speak if you’re going to tell me where the book is.”

“I dohon’t hAHAve ihihit!”

“Hmm...I don’t believe you.” Techno pushed up the bottom of Wilbur’s sweater so that his stomach was now exposed, and gripped at Wilbur’s wrists once again, holding them above his head. He shook his head so that his braid fell over his shoulder, then lowered his head slightly and put his plan into motion. Wilbur squeaked, laughing softly as he felt the tips of Techno’s hair lightly brush over his bare skin.

“This is your last chance, Wilbur. Tell me where my book is, and I won’t be nice anymore.” He said, the smallest of smirks on his face.

“Ihi’m tehelling yohou...I dohon’t hahave ihit.” Wilbur giggled, taking a moment to catch his breath.

“Heh...it’s your funeral.” Techno shrugged. He let go off Wilbur’s wrists, and immediately shot his hands down into the armpits. Wilbur’s eyes shot open, his arms flew down to his sides, and he quickly burst into loud, boisterous cackles.

“NAHAHAHAHA- TEHEHECHNOHOHO!! YOHOHOU DIHIHIHICK- AHAHAHAAA!!”

“Maybe if you had told me where my book was, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Techno said, speeding up the speed of his scribbling. Wilbur kicked his legs, laughing hysterically.

“IHIHI DOHO- NOHOHOHAHAHA!!”

“Don’t what? I can’t understand what you’re saying.” He said, acting oblivious. He continued for as long as he chose too, until Wilbur quickly screamed out his name, tears in the corners of his eyes.

“TEHEHEHE- TEHEHECHNOHOHO- AHAHALRIHIHIGHT! IHIHIHIT’S IHIHIN THE CAHABNIHIEHET!!” He yelled through his laughter.

“Which cabinet? You have plenty of cabinets,

Wilbur.” Techno asked, leaning down and taking a breath before blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Wilbur let out a scream louder tan be ever had before, hysterical cackling spewing out of his mouth.

“IHIHIN THE CLOHOHOHOSEHEHET!!! NOHOHOW PLEHEHEHEHEAHAHASE, STOHOHOP IHIHIHIT- EHEHEHEHAHAHAHA-!”

At Wilbur’s request, Techno pulled his hands away, standing up and opening the closet door, shuffling through the cabinet drawers until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed the book, sat back down on the bed, looking at it for a moment, then groaned.

“...Wilbur.”

“Yehehes?”

“This wasn’t the page I left my book on, Wilbur.”

“Oh. Wehehell, how the fuhuhuhuck wahahas I suhuppohohossed tohoho knohohohow thAHAHAHA- TEHEHEHECHNOHOHO- WAHAHAHAHAIT, IHIHI’M SOHOHOHOREEHEHEEY-!” Wilbur shrieked as he felt a raspberry to his side, throwing his head back onto the bed.

“PLEHEHEAHAHASE TEHEHECHNOHOHO!! MEHEHEHRCY, HAHAHAVE MEHEHEHERCEHEHEY!!!” He pleased, tears streaming down his face.

“You’re asking for mercy? Well, now I know what to do when I need you to shut up.” Techno chuckled softly, standing up and heading out of the bedroom. “Oh, and I’ll see if Phil can drive Tommy to Tubbo’s for you. You’re way too tired and giggly to be able to focus on the road.”

Wilbur stared at the ceiling once Techno left, using the wool of his sweater to wipe away some of his tears. He needed time to catch his breath, and to plot how he would get revenge on his twin.

And how he would enjoy getting that revenge as much as he enjoyed this experience just now. However, he would never say that out loud.

[atlafan]

Office Neighbors - Part Two

a/n: here we are! a little shorter than part one, but there’s some good stuff in here I think! enjoy! (also reblogs/feedback is super helpful) not proofread

warnings: fluff, slight smut (but not with who you think) 

words: 10K

masterpost

You groan heavily when your alarm goes off at 5AM Tuesday morning. You wanted to make sure your body had time to go to the bathroom before Harry picked you up. You knuckle at your eyes, and then get out of bed. You make yourself a quick iced coffee, and then get dressed. You decide on a cropped pair of leggings and one of your t-shirts that wicks away sweat. You pack an extra pair of socks, another shirt, and another sports bra just in case you get really sweaty. You make yourself some trail mix, and throw an extra water into your pack. Harry said he would bring actual sandwiches for the two of you. You get your ponytail through your hat, and use the bathroom again before waiting him.

Harry: here

You grab your pack and head out to his car. He had similar attire on as he did when you hiked with him the last time. Shorts, a sleeveless top, bandana and clip holding his hair back. You both nod at each other. It was still too early to speak. When you get to the trailhead you both spray each other with bug spray and begin.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” You speak up.

“Why, you in a hurry?” He smirks at you.

“No.” You nudge him. “Just wondering.”

“It’s about two and half miles up. It’s gradual, but there are also some really steep parts. If I were jogging, it would only take a couple of hours, but we can take our time. That’s why I wanted to leave so early.”

“You’ve…you’ve jogged this?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “It’s just running uphill.”

“Big nope from me.” You laugh. “I like the idea of just taking our time.”

“You get a fuller experience that way, I think. Don’t be afraid to tell me you need a break too. Some of the steeper parts are killer.”

“Will do.”

You both talk about your fall courses, what you plan to do differently, if anything. You talk about how you’re actually excited to have some student advisees, and how you might approach the meetings.

“It’s okay not to be super serious. Most importantly, you just need to listen, which you should have no problem with. You’re a good listener.” He says, blushing slightly.

“Sort of trained to be one.” You chuckle. “But I get what you mean. Now that I know the curriculum and the course sequence a little better, I definitely feel more confident to lead them in the…wow…that is steep.” You gulp as you look at the area ahead.

“We’ll just take our time.” He smiles. “It’s not a race.”

You make it up the first steep hump, and you tell him you need a water break.

“Christ, and here I thought I was in shape.”

“Hiking can be pretty humbling.” He uses a rag to wipe some sweat from his forehead, and takes a drink of water as well. “All set?”

“Mhm, let’s keep going.”

Every so often you stop to take pictures, and there is a moment where Harry veers off so he can have a “wee”, as he would call it. You had drank half your bottle of water and you definitely needed to pee too, but you were too embarrassed.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go?”

“I’m fine.”

“Look, that’s a flatter area, you could-“

“What if I get a mosquito bite…down there?” You whisper.

“It’s not mosquito season.” He laughs. “Did you bring some T-“

“Yes.” You mumble.

“So, just go, it’s fine. You’re being silly. I’ll stand right over there and keep watch.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” You groan and take the bit of toilet paper you brought out of your bag. Your eyes stay glued to the back Harry’s head while you do your business. You stick your rubbish into a plastic bag and stuff it away, then you use some hand sanitizer. “Okay.”

“All set?” He turns to look at you. “Not so bad, was it?”

“Not something I’d like to make a habit of, but no, it wasn’t terrible.”

It takes about two and half hours to get to the summit. You both were sticky with sweat, but it was worth it from the view alone.

“Oh my god.” You say slowly as you look around. “This is incredible.”

“Isn’t it? I feel so lucky to live here.”

“I’m starting to feel the same way for sure.” You take a few photos before sitting down, letting out a sigh.

You look over at Harry who’s taking his shirt off and your eyes widen. You knew about the birds on his collar bones, but the butterfly and the ferns were a complete surprise. Harry had such a nice body. He was toned, but still had a softness to him. He notices you looking at him and he blushes.

“Sorry, I’m soaked.”

“No, it’s okay…sorry, I just…your tattoos, I haven’t seen those ones.”

“Oh…” He looks down at himself. “I got these so long ago. Got a few more you haven’t seen.” He pulls up one side of his shorts so you can see the tiger on his thigh.

“Didn’t those huge ones hurt?”

“Eh.” He says sitting down next to you, grabbing a sip of his water. “Some did and some didn’t. The trick is to get a little tipsy beforehand.” He winks at you. He leans back on his elbows and closes his eyes for a moment before looking out at the view again.

“You know, I think you had the right idea about the shirt…do you mind?”

“What?”

“Well, if I took mine off for a bit. I packed myself a spare, but-“

“Oh! Yeah, um, I don’t care, uh, do what makes you comfortable.”

You nod and peel your shirt off. You lay it on the ground next to you, feeling better already from the breeze hitting your hot skin. You were glad you thought to wear one of your cuter sports bras. Your heart was racing slightly, mostly because it had been a while since you had last taken your clothes off in front of someone, but it was just Harry, after all.

“I brought some peanut butter sandwiches, are you hungry? I know it’s not exactly lunch time, but-“

“That sounds amazing, I’m starving. I didn’t eat beforehand.”

“You didn’t?!” He sits up fully.

“I didn’t want to have to…really go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He laughs while he gets the sandwiches out of his pack. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She notices his eyes drift to her cleavage. It was only for a moment, and she didn’t mind it.

“No problem.”

If Harry were twenty-years-old he’d probably try to make a move. Kiss you, press you up against a tree, fuck, put his hand over your mouth so other hikers wouldn’t be able to hear you moan. But he wasn’t twenty-years-old, he was thirty-two, and he had an eleven-year-old son who he wouldn’t want to treat a woman like that. He wanted to set a good example, to show him how a respectful man treats a woman. So, he eats his own sandwich, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but your body.

“Do you want some trail mix?” You take it out of your bag.

“Sure! Thanks.” He reaches his hand in the bag and takes some out.

You guzzle down some more of your water and stand up. You didn’t want to sit too long and get stiff.

“Harry, would you take my picture?”

“Of course.” He stands up and takes your phone. He smiles at your smile as he snaps the photo.

“How about a selfie?”

“Of the two of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Like this?” You made him so fucking nervous, he was never like this with anyone else.

“I don’t care if you don’t. I’ll just stand here, and you can stand in front of me to get the shot.”

“Oh, right.” He thought to maybe put his arm around you, but that clearly wasn’t happening. You both smile and he takes the shot.

“Do you two want a picture?” A woman says. She was with a couple of other people. “I’d be happy to take it for you.”

“That would be great!” You snatch your phone from Harry’s hand and give it to her. “Are you still sweaty?” You look up at him.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.” You put your arm around his waist, and he puts an arm around you, hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, I took a couple.”

“Thank you so much, would your group like any?”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

You take a few photos for the group and then you look over the photos of you and Harry.

“These are great.” You smile and show him.

“You’ll send those to me, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“I’m walking down like this, I don’t wanna get my spare shirt sweaty. I was thinking we could grab a real lunch after this…if you don’t mind me taking up your entire day that is.”

“I would love nothing more than to stuff my face after this, Har.”

You decide to just go down in your sports bra, not wanting to get your spare shirt sweaty either. The way down feels like it takes no time at all. It was definitely easier to hike down a mountain than to hike up a mountain. That is, until you got to one of the steeper parts.

“Just step down on the side and take slow steps. Don’t go straight down.”

“Would, um, hold my hand? I’m a little nervous.”

“Of course.” He looks back at you and takes your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

He helps you down the steeper parts, taking your hand each time until things get more gradual again. You feel incredibly proud of yourself once you’re back at the parking area.

“That was amazing, Harry. I feel amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Andy’s done that with you before?”

“Oh, sure. Plenty of times.”

“Incredible.” You chuckle as you grab your spare bra and shirt from your pack. Harry dabs his chest with a rag before putting his t-shirt on. “Shit, where should I change?”

“Um…backseat?”

“I’ll just be a second.”

He nods and waits outside the car while you quickly change. You feel so much relief letting your breasts free, giving yourself a second to cool off before putting your fresh bra on. You pull your t-shirt on overhead and get out to sit in the passenger seat. Harry hops in the driver’s seat and off you go.

“I can’t believe it’s only 12:30.”

“Another benefit of getting up early. Did you see how full the lot was? People are so uneducated. I’d never start a hike now.”

“I know! There were so many people going up when we were coming down. I couldn’t believe it.”

“And now they’ll have to rush.”

“Have you ever hiked at night before?”

“I have, actually. I used to help lead this moonlit hike thing during move-in weekend for first year students. It was a lot of fun.”

“How come you stopped?”

“Not a junior faculty anymore.” He shrugs. “I just didn’t feel like it after a certain point. I still help with other things, but I definitely don’t give up all my free time to the school anymore.”

“I volunteered for that casino night last fall. I was on campus until almost midnight, I was pooped. Sometimes those kids make me feel so old.”

“You’re not old.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I know, I just feel out of touch sometimes.”

“How can a person who studies social media feel out of touch?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“It’s more so the lingo. I was giving a lecture, and I made a really great point, and when I was done one student shouted ‘period’ and everyone laughed. I had to look it up on urban dictionary.” You both laugh at that.

Harry drives into town, and parks near the local diner.

“How do you feel about brunch?”

“Sounds amazing.”

You both get out and head inside. The morning rush was gone already, so you’re sat right away. You both inhale your food. Greasy hash browns and omelets. And coffee, a lot more coffee. You split the bill and Harry starts the drive to your apartment.

“So, you’ll hike with me again?”

“I’ll hike with you again.” You nod with a smile. “Do you think Andy will be jealous?”

“Nah, he already knows. I’m sure he’ll be expecting lots of details.”

“About what?”

“Um, just how the view was and all that.”

“Right.” He pulls up in front of your house, and you both look at each other. “One of these days you’ll let me pick you up.” You unbuckle your seat belt and he nods. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

“I’d hug you…but I’m a little gross, so…”

“No worries.”

“Well…” You weren’t sure what the next time you were going to see him was.

“Sometimes, while Andy is still in school, I’ll use the library on campus to work on things. It’s got a/c…less stuffy than our offices. I usually only go on a rainy day, but-“

“Cute, we can study together like classmates.” You giggle. “I’ll let you know if I decide to use the space.” You smile and get out of the car.

//

Harry was enjoying his shower, it was quick, but it was good to clean off. He throws on some comfy clothes and nearly dozes off on the couch.

“Dad, I’m home!” Andy shouts, immediately waking him up. “How was the hike?” He plops down on the couch next to Harry.

“It was good, Y/N had a nice time.”

“Is she going to come camping with us?”

“I’m…not sure.” He sighs. “That’s not something just a friend would join in on, you know?”

“I don’t, but…”

“I’m not going to press her about it, I think she’s thinking it over. We’ve got time yet…” He sits up a little straighter. “When Mum comes to get you on Friday she’s going to come in for a bit and chat.”

“About what?”

“What you want to do this summer.”

“I spend summers with you.”

“Yes, but usually you spend the school year with her, that’s why you get me over the summer.”

“You don’t want me this summer?” He leans into him to rest his head on Harry’s chest, and Harry puts his arm around his son.

“Of course I do, but your Mum wants you too. I don’t know, I’m going to propose she get you for July, and I get you for August, I think that’s a good compromise, but she may not see it that way.”

“What about June?”

“Well, you have school for most of June, so you could go be with her end of June through July. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? I wouldn’t hate having my own lake to swim in every day.”

“I guess that’s true…and Noah’s boat is pretty cool.” He sighs.

“I just wanted to give you the heads up.”

“Thanks.”

Harry was up reading in bed later that night. The rain had started and he could hear it tapping on his window, almost starting to lull him to sleep. He heard his phone buzz and his eyes lit up when he saw it was you.

You: hey! Almost forgot to send these to you!

You sent along all of the photos from the day.

Harry: thanks! Really glad that lady was there to take these of us

You: me too…so when exactly is this camping trip?

Harry: middle of June…when Andy gets out of school…June 20th I think

You: if I really won’t be intruding, I think I’d like to go. I’m trying to do more things to get out of my comfort zone

Harry: are you serious?! He’ll be so excited…I mean, I’m excited too.

Harry: I think he wants his friend Brandon to come so having another adult there would be a huge help

He didn’t want his first text to sound too eager.

You: lol well I’m happy to help how I can ;p you’ll tell me what to pack and all that right? I literally have no idea what I would need for overnight stuff

Harry: if you can get yourself a sleeping bag you’ll be all set, I have two tents and a ton of camping stuff. You would just want to bring your own food, clothes, etc.

You: alright sounds good :)

//

Harry hadn’t told Andy about you coming on the trip just yet. He wanted to save it as good news in case the conversation about summer with Paige didn’t go well.

“I guess let’s just start.” Paige says after eating a quick dinner with Harry and Andy in Harry’s home. “Ideally, what would you prefer?” She asks her son.

“To not go back and forth a lot. It stresses me out, I feel like I need to remember every little thing I don’t have two of.”

“Do you have any vacations or anything planned?” Harry asks, looking at his planner. “Right now for us it’s just the camping trip, and that’ll only be the weekend he gets out of school.”

“I was hoping to have him for the fourth. The Barrett’s are coming to staycation at the rental two doors down.”

“Really?!” Andy perks up. “I like when they visit.”

“So…why not spend the rest of June with me,” Harry begins. “You could do July with mum, and then come back to me mid-August.”

“That actually sounds good to me.” Paige says.

“What about Brandon?”

“It’s only a thirty minute drive, I’m sure his dad won’t mind it when you two wanna hang out. Hell, I’ll even come pick you up and bring back here if need be.”

“And if there’s a weekend you wanna just come see Dad in July, you can. You won’t be held hostage.”

“It’s just…you work during the day, Mum.”

“I know honey, but Noah’s got the home office. He can stay in with you and Rachel, and you two could go swimming and have fun at the lake. He could take you on boat rides too.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” She says.

“Yeah, I think all that seems fair.” He looks at the two of them. “I know…I know I can be sort of difficult sometimes, and I’m really grateful that I got to spend the school year with Dad, and I really hope I get to do it again…”

“I think that can be arranged.” Paige smiles. “You’ve never done so well in school, we’re both so proud of you.”

“Yeah, bud, I think this school was a good fit for you.”

“So…I’ll be able to do it again next year, I can keep living with you?”

“If that’s what you want, Mum and I are okay with this new arrangement.”

Andy shoots out of his seat and hugs the both of them.

“Go on and get your things for the weekend, sweetheart.” Paige smiles.

“Okay!” Andy races into his room.

“You’re surprisingly cool with all this.” Harry says to her as they both stand.

“I want him to be happy, and if he’s happier here then what can I do?” She shrugs. “Are you alright continuing to take all this on?”

“Yeah, plus he’s getting older. He can be home for a bit before I am.” Paige hums her response. “How, um, how did you feel about my friend?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“She was really nice! She seems sweet, why?”

“She’s going to come camping with us.” Harry whispers. “And I just wanted to make sure you felt comfortable with it.”

“Oh, Harry.” Paige smiles. “Thank you, yeah, I’m perfectly fine with it. Andy seems to really like her.”

“Who?” Andy says, coming out with his backpack and duffle.

“Y/N.” Harry says. “I told her how you wanted Brandon to come camping, and I’ll need some help, so she’s coming camping with us.”

“She is?! Oh my god, we gotta work on your flirting then, Dad. You need help.”

“Excuse me? I’m great at flirting.” He scoffs. “Back me up.” He says to Paige.

“It’s true, Andy.” She chuckles. “Your dad can really turn on the charm when he wants to.”

“Well, you didn’t see him trying to ask her to come to my birthday party. I thought he was going to wet his pants!” He laughs.

“Oi, I was just trying to play it cool before you blurted it out.”

“So, what, you have a thing for her?” Paige asks.

“I like her, yeah.”

“Does she like you?”

“She must if she’s coming overnight with us, right?”

“You know, I’ve never really known you to hold back with a woman you liked before…” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I work with her, it’s a little more complicated. She’s mentioned a couple of times how she doesn’t think dating in the workplace is smart, just offhand, so I’ve been nervous.”

“I think you guys should hang out again before the trip.” Andy says. “Oh! You could go to her place to help her pack.”

“I’m not gonna invite myself over!” Harry rolls his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough. Go have a good weekend with Mum.”

Andy laughs and gives his dad a hug before leaving with Paige.

//

“God, you feel so good, it’s been way too long.” Ray grunts in your ear. “Should have never stopped doing this.”

Ray was an old flame from your previous institution. You decided to go home to Boston this weekend because your brother had some new recipes he wanted you to try. You happened to bump into Ray at a bar, and went with him back to his place for some promised fun. He was a decent enough fuck, he knew how to scratch your itch, and that was good enough right now. Although, you didn’t feel the need to answer his dirty talk. You just grunt and moan and try to focus on what you’re after.

You’re close, but you’re not quite getting there. He was fucking into you from behind, and hitting the right spots, but it wasn’t…it just wasn’t…

Harry.

Your fingers slip to your clit, and you rub harsh circles into yourself as Ray continues to fuck into you. Your eyes pinch closed, and suddenly there are tattooed arms around you. A raspy, deep voice in your ear.

“Come on, you can do it. Show how you make yourself come.”

Your eyes snap open and roll back when you feel your release. You cry out and collapse onto the bed after Ray spills into the condom. You get up after catching your breath to use the bathroom. Ray watches as you put your clothes on.

“Going so soon?”

“Yeah, I’m staying with my brother…be sort of weird not to come back tonight.”

“It was great to be able to do this again.”

“Yeah.” You smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for the fun.”

On your uber ride back, it starts to settle into your mind that you just had to fantasize about your friend, Harry Styles, to get off while having sex with someone else. This wasn’t an accidental dream, this was on purpose.

“Shit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. This camping trip wasn’t going to be easy.

//

Harry: hey! Was wondering if you want to come out and have some ice cream with Andy and I? He got straight A’s! Think it’s worth celebrating.

You: oh wow! Sure, I could definitely meet up for ice cream. Just at the place down town?”

Harry: yup! 6:30PM work?

You: sure! See you soon :)

Harry: :)

“Andy…”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Wh…what’s this?” He shows Andy the text conversation on his phone.

“Oh…I, uh, asked Y/N to get ice cream with us while you were in the shower.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to ask her?!”

“Does it matter? She said yes.”

“Of course it matters! Ugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to change my passcode again.” He reads over the conversation again. “I should ground you or something…no toppings on your ice cream.”

“But-“

“Sorry, thems the rules.” Harry smirks and grabs his keys.

You were waiting patiently outside of the ice cream shop for the two of them. You smile when you see Harry’s car pull up. They both get out and greet you.

“Congratulations, Andy.”

“Thanks!” He gives you a quick hug before going inside. You and Harry follow.

“Hey, uh…” He grabs your wrist. “Not that I’m upset or anything…but he actually stole my phone and texted you.”

“Oh!” You start laughing. “Glad I didn’t say anything naughty then.” You wink and walk up to the ice cream counter. You all get your ice cream and sit at a table across the street in the town common. “No toppings, Andy? I’m surprised you didn’t get a sundae.”

“Dad said I couldn’t.” He huffs, and bites into his mint chip ice cream.

“That’s what you get for stealing my phone, you little bugger.” Harry jostles the hair on Andy’s head, and Andy swats his hand away. “Did you have a nice weekend with your brother?”

You nearly choke on your ice cream. You clear your throat and nod.

“Yeah, um, yeah it was good. He came up with this new sauce for his raviolis, it was delicious.”

“Do anything else? Must be nice to go to a city that has things open past 9PM.” He chuckles.

“Um, yeah, I mean I went out, but nothing too exciting to report back.” You were blushing slightly. “So, Andy, straight A’s, how’d you manage that?”

“Brandon and I call each other to do homework a lot. He’s really smart.”

“So are you, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve worked hard this year.” Harry says.

“Yeah, but Brandon’s, like, really smart.” You furrow your brows a little as your lips curve up. It almost sounded like Andy was swooning. “He’s really excited to come camping with us this weekend. Are you excited too, Y/N?”

“I’m…excited to see how it goes.” You laugh. “Should be interesting to say the least. Instead of you coming to get me I could just meet you at your house so we can leave from there.”

“That would be great. Brandon’s sleeping over the night before so we can just get up and go.”

“You should sleep over too, Y/N.” Andy says.

“Andy.” Harry says to him.

“I’ll need all the sleep I can get before camping, and in order to do that I need my own bed, but thank you very much for the offer.” You smile.

“I could swing by the night before, though, and pack everything up in the car.” Harry says.

“Now there’s an idea.” You say with a grin.

//

“Okay, I’m trusting you both to be good while I’m gone for a bit. I shouldn’t be out too long, but still. Please be good.”

“We’re literally watching a movie then going to sleep, I don’t think we’re going to burn the house down.” Andy says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, Mr. Styles, go see your girlfriend, we’ll be fine.”

“She’s not my…” He sighs. “I’ll be back soon.”

Harry drives to your apartment, and you buzz him in when he gets there. You had gotten caught up all day doing research, so you were running around in a tank top, shorts, and socks. Your door was open for him. It was the first time he had ever been inside your place.

“Y/N?”

“Coming!” You yell from your bedroom. “I’m so sorry, I’m not quite all there yet.” You say, dragging out your pack. “I can’t seem to get the sleeping bag on here without it unravelling.” You look up at him and pout.

Harry was sweating. Even though he had seen you in just a sports bra and leggings, this was almost more revealing.

“I can, uh, get it to stay on there tighter for you.”

“You’re amazing.” You go back into your room to pull out a couple of more things. “I definitely over packed…it’s going to be too heavy.”

“I kept some room in mine in case this happened, no worries.” He gets the sleeping bag tied on correctly. “There we go.” He stands up and is suddenly only inches away from you.

“Let me give you the tour.” You step back. “It’s a two bedroom, I use the other one as an office. It’s way too much of a mess to show you but, that’s the living room.” You show him. “Got a half bath over there, and full bath down the hall, kitchen…and that’s my bedroom.”

“It’s really nice.” He walks around with his hands behind his back. “You’re really good at decorating. Are you sure you didn’t go to school for interior design?” He raises an eyebrow at you, making you giggle.

“No, but it’s certainly a hobby of mine. It relaxes me to look through magazines and go to stores to get ideas.”

“Your office at work has the perfect balance. Mine must look all over the place.”

“No! I love your office, it’s very inviting.”

“Thanks.” He looks you up and down. “Are these the, uh, pj’s you packed for camping? You may get cold.”

“I’m not an idiot, I packed sweats.”

“Oh…good.”

“What are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?”

“Well, I have two tents. One for the boys, and then I have this larger one I figured we could, um, share…if it’s not too buggy I may sleep outside. Would you feel comfortable being in the same tent?”

“Sure.” You shrug. “I was going to make some tea, would you like some, or do you need to get back to them?”

“They should be fine on their own for a bit longer, a cup of tea sounds great.”

You nod, and his eye grows when he notices a park on the back of one of your shoulders. It looked like a fading bite mark. He glares at you without you seeing. Who the fuck did that to you? He wonders. It should be him leaving marks on you.

“So, when you went to Boston, you really didn’t do much?” He asks as he sits down at your kitchen island.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly going to get into it in front of your son.” You chuckle and turn your electric kettle on. “I went out to an old bar I used to go to when I was living in the area, ran into an old friend.”

“And how was that?”

“Okay.” You shrug, and put two tea bags into a couple of mugs. You pour the water over them and put one in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So…you and this friend…” He just wanted to confirm if his suspicion was true. “Did anything happen?”

“Like what?” Harry rolls his eyes at you. “Oh! Harry…”

“Come on, you can tell me.” He was trying to pal around, he just needed to know the truth.

“He was an ex-boyfriend…and…yada yada yada.” You sip your tea. “I don’t know why I did it…guess I just wanted to feel close to someone, and it was easy with someone familiar.”

“Right, I get that.” It stung to hear. “Paige and I hooked up a few times after we ended it. Sometimes you just wanna be with someone who knows what you like without you having to say it.” He thought he’d sting you a bit too.

“Mhm.” You didn’t want to think about Paige getting to fuck Harry. Perhaps if you had been drunk you would have asked him what he liked.

“Well, I should probably get going. Early day tomorrow and all, thanks for the tea.”

He grabs your pack and you walk him to the door.

“I’ll be at your place for seven. See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning.”

//

You drive to Harry’s house in the morning, and the kids burst outside with a little too much energy for you so early. Harry says hello to you, and you notice he’s not wearing his glasses, something he rarely did.

“Morning.” He mumbles.

“Morning.” You open the passenger car door and get in. The boys climb in the backseat.

“Alright.” Harry turns to look at them. “I had to listen to you two hyenas all night. I’d like a nice, quiet ride to the trail head, got it?”

“Yes.” They both say at the same time.

You smile at Harry and he winks at you as he pulls out of the driveway. It’s about a forty-five minute long ride to the trail head. Harry parks and gets everything out of the car. The boys walk a few paces ahead of you and Harry like you expected them to.

“So, they kept you up?”

“You have no idea. I must have told them three times to knock it off.” He groans. “Little…twats.” He says under his breath and you can’t help but laugh.

“I heard that!” Andy says without looking.

“Good, you were supposed to!”

“Are you his father or his brother?” You tease.

“He’s just trying to act cool in front of his friend.” Harry nods toward Brandon. “Which I get, but I can’t let him get away with too much.”

“So, how come people tend to do this overnight?”

“Well, it’s about five miles up, and that’ll take the majority of the day. It’s not really safe to hike at night, so we set up camp, have dinner, hang out, and then once the sun goes down we’ll set up a campfire and stuff like that.”

“I’m excited to see the sun rise.”

“Yeah, that’s the best part. I taught Andy about sun salutations so we’ll be doing that too.”

“And you’ll teach me too, right?”

“Of course, you can follow right along.”

You smile at each other and keep walking. You all take your time, enjoying the scenery around you. An hour or so in you all stop to take water and snack breaks. The boys go off to have a wee, and then you keep going.

“So, you said there’s no shower at these bathrooms, right?”

“No, there’s not. But you can use the sink, and they do have men’s and women’s separate restrooms, so you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay, great. I just didn’t want to feel gross when we go to sleep.” Harry nods at you. “It’s such a beautiful day. I’m really glad I’m here with you.” You clear your throat. “With all of you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

At one point you needed to stop to pee. Harry got the boys to not giggle and tease you, somehow, as you took a few moments to get yourself situated. You were about midway, and Harry knew the part of the trail where you could see out just a little bit. It was nice and flat, and the perfect spot for lunch. They were light lunches, veggies, nuts, and more water. Harry explained it wouldn’t be good to fill up too much because it would make going up a mountain that much more difficult.

“When will you two know what class you’re in next year? Sixth grade, that’s pretty wild.” You say to Brandon and Andy.

“Next year they’re putting us on teams. You either still have two teachers or four.” Andy explains. “We wanna be on the four team.”

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“Because then you’re not stuck in the same two classrooms all day.” Brandon says. “It’ll make the day go by faster.”

“That’s what a kid on the basketball team told us, anyways.” Andy shrugs. “We heard the four team has nicer teachers too.”

“I just hope they don’t put one of us on the four team and the other on the two team, that would be the worst.” Brandon says.

“Is it by last name or anything?” Harry asks.

“We have no idea, when we asked our fifth grade teachers they didn’t really say there was much reason behind who gets what.” Andy says. “I’ll worry about it in August.”

“Yeah, I don’t even want to think about school right now.” Brandon says.

“Y/N, do you still do work over the summer like Dad does?” Andy asks.

“Yes, I’m still technically in school. So I do research like Dad, but mine is so I can become a doctor like him, he just does it to keep his name out there.” She nudges him playfully.

“Oi, my work is more than just for vanity, thank you very much.”

“I don’t know Dad, I think Y/N has a point. I’ve seen you do your research.” Andy grins.

“Oh, this I’d love to hear.”

“Dad watches really sad romance movies, cries, and then pauses the movie to take notes about how he’s feeling.”

“I do that to compare to the books that the films are based off of, and I see how I felt while reading the book versus watching the movie. I also make notes about the cinematography and mise en scene, because music-“

“Mr. Styles, you lost me at the cinnamon tography…” Brandon says and everyone laughs.

After lunch you get going again. You’re amazed that the boys don’t need a lot of breaks and don’t seem tired. They get excited when they see certain critters or flowers. As you get closer to the top, you notice it getting a little steeper. Harry had the biggest pack on, and you were fucking floored that he wasn’t huffing and puffing his way up. He was sweating for sure, but he was in no way struggling. Impressive, to say the least.

“Dad! I recognize this part, we’re almost there!” Andy exclaims.

“Yeah! Shouldn’t be long now!” He calls ahead. “How are your feet doing?” He asks you.

“Not too bad, I’m glad I changed my socks when we took our last break. I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

“After we get to the top and everything we’ll make sure to stretch. Your legs will tighten up too much if we don’t.”

“Makes sense. Has Brandon gone hiking with you before?”

“Oh, sure, tons of times. Never overnight, though, so this will be nice for them.”

A few more paces, and a few sharp turns, and you’ve made it to the summit.

“Holy shit.” You say to yourself. Mountains and greenery as far as your eyes could see. No lake this time, but you didn’t care.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry says to you.

“It’s…incredible.” You were still in shock.

“Congrats, it’s your first 4,000 footer.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze before getting his pack off. You all get your packs off.

Dozens of pictures are taken. You take some of the boys with Harry, and Andy uses your phone to take one of you and Harry, and he even wants one of just you and him, it was sweet.

“So…where’s the campsite?”

“Oh, just down that way a bit. Figured we could hang out here while we stretch and stuff. Just chill and take it all in before we go to set up the tents.”

You all sit on the ground and stretch your legs. It felt good to just take some time to breathe slowly and let your legs relax. You all walk to where the campsite is and claim your territory.

“So over there are the bathrooms, and then that hut over there actually has a snack bar in it and a few forest rangers.”

“That’s so cool! Do you need help with the tents?”

“Have you ever set one up before?”

“Never.”

“Then you can watch. It’ll be easier if Andy and I just do it.”

You nod and take a step back with Brandon as Andy and Harry work to get the two tents situated. Andy and Brandon get their sleeping bags set up the way they like inside their tent and then they head off towards the bathroom.

“Alright.” You say after tossing some of your things inside yours and Harry’s tent. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get the firewood together. Gotta get cooking soon.”

“What are we having?”

“Regular hot dogs for the boys, vegan ones for us, that work?”

“You had a cooler in there?”

“And a cast iron pan. Ain’t my first rodeo, darling.” He says cheekily, but you blush anyways from him calling you darling. He had never called you that before.

You grab the things you need for the bathroom, and you’ve never been so thankful to see a clean, working toilet in your life. There were some other people around setting up their own campsites as well, it wasn’t just your group. You use a washcloth to freshen up and then put on some new leggings and a long sleeve shirt. You take your hair out of its hat and put some dry shampoo in before putting it all up in a messy bun. You sigh happily now that you feel a little cleaner.

The boys, and Harry, had changed into some comfier clothes as well. You notice that Harry is wearing his glasses once again. They were all sitting on different blankets around the fire Harry had just gotten started.

“How many would you like?” He asks you as he takes out the different types of hotdogs.

“Two would be great, thank you.” You say, sitting down near Andy.

“I also have some other veggies, I cut up some bell peppers.” Harry takes the baggy out of the cooler. “I figured beans wouldn’t be such a great idea.”

“Dad, can I have two hotdogs?”

“Same here.” Brandon chimes in.

“Of course, boys.”

Harry makes up the vegan hotdogs first, and then makes the boys. They all munch on the veggies and other snacks that Harry packed. He even made sure to bring Oreo’s, Andy’s favorite. Once the sun sets, and everyone bundles up a bit more, Harry breaks out the items to make s’mores.

“Brandon, do you think your dad will coach basketball again in the winter?” Harry asks him.

“Yeah, he said he should have the time. I like him better as a coach than the guy I had a couple of years ago that’s for sure.”

“I like the way your dad coaches, he’s not mean.” Andy says. “I had one guy one year that just yelled and drilled the whole time, it wasn’t any fun.”

“You’re just kids, why would anyone yell at you?” You ask, biting into your own s’more.

“Some of these people are just looking for excuse to be aggressive.” Harry sighs. “This was a much better year all around for everyone I’d say.”

A light hearted ghost story or two is told before the boys both call it a night, their long night before finally catching up with them. Harry makes sure all their trash is thrown away and secure, and he reminds them of the buddy system for if they need to wee in the middle of the night. He also gives them a flashlight so they’ll be able to see everything.

“I think they had the right idea.” You yawn after coming back again from the bathroom. “I’m pooped.”

“Same here. Go get settled, I’m gonna put the fire out.”

You nod and go into the larger tent Harry set up for the two of you. You roll out your sleeping bag, and use one of your spare sweatshirts as a pillow. You get settled in and sigh. It was sort of nice to be unplugged, away from screens and research. Harry eventually crawls in, and gets settled into his own sleeping bag. He sets a dim lantern on his side so he could read a bit.

“What are you reading?”

“The screenplay that was adapted to make The Notebook…” He mumbles.

“You’re working?”

“Sort of…I usually bring books like these camping. They’re easier to read.”

“Should I be offended that you were about ready to read instead of staying up to chat?” You smirk.

Harry’s eyes grow slightly. You wanted to have pillow talk before bed? Is that it?

“Um…well…I just figured you were tired, and I usually read to fall asleep-“

“Harry, relax, I was just teasing. You can read if you want.” You smile at him and turn over, nestling into your sleeping bag. “Night.” You say, looking over your shoulder at him quickly.

“Night.”

Part of you wanted to whine or complain that your makeshift pillow wasn’t comfortable so he’d offer to let you lay on his chest. Maybe he’d caress you and even read to you for a bit. Maybe you would have done that if his son wasn’t in the tent right next to you.

Harry couldn’t concentrate on his book. His eyes kept glancing over to your curled up body. You looked so soft and peaceful, and he just wanted to wrap his arms around you. He wanted to keep you safe and warm all night. And because Harry usually sleeps holding onto a pillow of some kind, he felt a little fucked. He sighs and turns the lantern off. He lays on his back for a while until his eyes eventually flutter closed. You both were exhausted from the hike.

//

You wake up feeling warm and cozy. You weren’t sure why you had woken up. It’s not like the sun was shining yet, the whole point was to get up and watch the sun rise. No, you woke up from feeling small puffs of air by your ear and a strong hold around your stomach. Harry must have rolled over in his sleep and started cuddling with you. You almost wish you were in a shared sleeping bag so you could get even cozier. It would be like one giant sleeping bag burrito. You feel his arm pull you closer into him, and his breathing changes.

You shift and turn on your back so you can look up at him, and he keeps his arm around your waist. You gaze at each other, and he moves his hand up to smooth some hair away from your face before letting it caress your cheek. You both look like you’re about to say something when-

“Dad, come on! The sun’s gonna be up soon!”

Andy startles Harry so badly, it’s like he wakes up all over again, like he didn’t realize what he was doing with you. He nearly jumps away from you and sits up.

“Okay, one second! Go get washed up.” He sighs, and then looks at you. “I-“

“Let’s get to it before they find a way to get in here and drag us out.”

“Yeah.”

Harry unzips the tent and you both use the bathroom before heading out with the boys to the summit again.

“Alright everyone.” Harry says, and he starts doing some simple yoga moves. The boys follow and so do you.

It was amazing to actually do sun salutations as the sun came up. After sitting and looking out a while longer you all head back to the campsite breakfast. You drink water instead of coffee in fear of really needing to use the bathroom later. You each have a granola bar, and then start to clean up the tents. You get changed in your attire for the day, as done everyone else, and you all start working your way down the mountain.

“What did you think of the sunrise, boys?” You ask.

“It was so cool! I can’t wait to show my parents the pictures I took.” Brandon says.

“Must be nice to have a phone that actually takes decent pictures.”

“I took plenty of pictures on mine, Andy.” Harry says. “You got two more years, I think you can wait.” He chuckles as Andy looks back to give him a pouty face.

“How’d you sleep, Y/N?” Brandon asks.

“Oh! Um…” You and Harry look at each other briefly and then blush. “Pretty good, slept the whole night through, I think. How about you two.”

“My mom gave me some melatonin, so I slept good.” Brandon shrugs.

“And I’m used to camping, so I was fine.” Andy says.

“Good, that’s really good.” You say and clear your throat.

You both knew you’d have to have a conversation about the way you woke up, but now obviously wasn’t going to be the time. Finally, after hours, you make it all the way back to the trailhead, and get everything into Harry’s car. It was an incredible couple of days, but you couldn’t wait to get home to take a proper shower. Hell, you may even take a bath just to relax your sore muscles. Harry drops Brandon off, and Andy helps him with his things. They hug goodbye; it’s awfully sweet.

“Dad, can I shower first? I feel gross…”

“Sure, just don’t take too long.”

“Okay! Thanks again for coming Y/N.”

“Thank you again for inviting me.” You smile as you all get out of Harry’s car. He waits for Andy to go inside before speaking up.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable…when I sleep I usually have a pillow or something and-“

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You say as you grab your things out of his trunk and put them into your own. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable.” You look at him and close your trunk.

“Oh.” His eyebrows raise and his cheeks grow slightly red. “Um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have him for the rest of this week until I send him off with Paige for July, so I wanna spend as much time with him as I can, but-“

“Call me when you’re free. I don’t mind waiting.”

Harry was chilled to his bones from your words. He watched you get into your car and drive off before going into his house. You said what you said because you had a feeling Harry had been waiting for you to get your act together a bit. You’ve known him for almost a year, and he’s been a great friend, but there’s something that’s been brewing between the two of you. Probably since the day you met.

//

“Is that everything?” Paige chuckles as Andy brings another bag into her house.

“I wanted to make sure I had options.” He grunts as he gets inside.

“He’s just like you, I swear.” She shakes her head at Harry.

“As if we needed more proof that he’s mine.”

“So…I heard the camping trip went well, what’s next for you and Y/N?”

“Not sure, I’m gonna give her a ring the second I’m on the road.”

“Did anything happen between you two in that tent?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“No.” He mumbles and kicks some dirt at his feet. “Not much I could do with two eleven-year-olds right next door.”

“Harry.” She laughs.

“We woke up…very close together, that was about it. Bottom line is we need to talk, and now I’ll have the time to do so.”

“You know you’re going to need to fill Andy in on everything when you have your chats on the phone.”

“Please, it’ll be the first thing he asks me instead of how are you…”

“Okay, that’s everything.” Andy says. “Love you.” He hugs Harry and Harry sighs as he wraps his arms around him.

“Love you too, call if you need anything, and be good, promise?”

“Promise.”

Harry waves as he gets into his car, and he calls you right away just like he said he would. The phone goes straight to voicemail, which makes him feel like he got kicked in the gut, especially because it rang twice first. Suddenly, a couple of texts come up on his screen.

You: hey!

You: sorry, I’m at the library getting some work done. I’ll call you later

Harry sighs, but he completely understands. Not too long ago it was him using every free moment he had to get his doctoral research done. He had his own work he should be doing, so he goes home and gets settled up in his office.

He was getting some incredible work done on his latest manuscript, the journal that publishes his works will definitely be pleased. He blinks and sees it’s already 8PM, and you never called, or texted. He hoped you were alright. He stands up and stretches, and decides to grab a quick shower. The house was quiet without Andy, and he didn’t like it. He flops down onto the couch in just a pair of boxers and turns the TV on. A ring on the doorbell startles him, and he gets up right away. He peers through the window to see you, holding a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. He cracks the door open so you could only see his face.

“Hey! Sorry for just dropping by. I got really busy earlier, and I thought this would be better than calling. Hungry?” You smile brightly at him.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I was actually feeling pretty-“

“Um, Har…”

He had opened the door more just out of instinct, revealing his mostly naked body.

“Shit, let me, uh, come in, I’ll go throw something on.” You giggle as he basically scurries to his bedroom to change. He comes back out in a t-shirt and joggers. “Thanks for bringing all this.”

“I planned to come by earlier, I know you dropped Andy off today…how are you doing?”

“I’m okay…work distracted me, but it’s hitting me now. It’s really quiet without him already…I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” You pop the box of pizza open. “Wanna get this bottle open?”

“Yeah.”

He grabs his wine opener, two glasses, and two plates. He gets the bottle open while you set the pizza out. He pours you both a glass and you sit down at the table.

“So, you got a lot done today?” He asks you.

“You have no idea! I was on fire.” Harry laughs at that.

He listens to you talk about what you got done. He couldn’t help but watch every movement your lips made, and how your eyes got brighter and brighter at how excited you were.

“Sorry, I’m going on and on about my thing, what did you get done today?” You say, sipping your wine.

“Worked on my manuscript for the journal.” He shrugs. “Nothing special.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you do incredible work. I love reading your articles. I actually think I used to read your work when I was still in grad school.” You start blushing. “It’s sort of cool knowing the person you’ve been able to learn so much from.”

“Just sort of cool, huh?” He scoffs playfully and you nudge him. “Wanna move outside, I put up a screen around the perimeter for bugs, or are you still hungry?”

“No, I’ve had plenty, but I’ll be bringing this bottle with us.” You grab the wine and you both head outside. “When did you even have time to do this?”

“Andy helped me. It wasn’t too difficult.”

You imagine Harry doing handy work, and it makes every part of your body flutter.

“I wish I had outdoor space like this, it’s my one complaint of my apartment, no balcony or anything.”

“Yeah, we didn’t like it much either, we didn’t stay there long.”

“We?”

“It’s where Paige and I lived when we first came here. I got my master’s from the university first, then my doctorate. Her grandparents lived in that big house, so they helped babysit Andy a lot.”

“Oh.” You didn’t have any problems with Paige, but she didn’t love being reminded that they were once together and in love.

“Were you sore after the hike or anything?” Quick to change the subject, maybe he felt the same way.

“Um, only for a day or so. I didn’t stretch as much as I should have when I got home. Thought the bath I took would have been good enough.”

“Would you ever do it again?”

“I would! I had more fun than I thought…but I’ll only go to the mountains that have working bathrooms.”

“Deal.” He smiles and takes a sip of his wine. “Maybe we could do something like that later this month.”

“With or without Andy?” You raise a playful eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind an adults only trip.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He finishes off his glass and pours another. “Refill?”

“Please.” You hold your glass out for him and he pours some more. You take a sip and lick your lips. “And why exactly would you like it to be adults only?”

“Perhaps…I wouldn’t have minded not being interrupted that morning.”

“Andy really startled you, huh?”

“I almost forgot he was there…” He plucks at his bottom lip. “It was…an interesting how we woke up.”

“Very interesting.” You sip your drink. “I was sort of…hoping you were going to cuddle me or something.”

“You were?!” His eyes widen.

“Yeah, it was sort of cold, even in sweats and a sleeping bag. I felt so cozy when I woke up.”

“You didn’t even flinch when you looked up at me…”

“Why would I have?”

“I don’t know…sort of weird to wake up in a friend’s arms, isn’t it?”

“Not so weird when that friend is you.” You look at him. “You back peddled when you tried to explain why. It’s okay if you wanted to hold onto me.”

“I literally sleep with a body pillow, you can check my room.” He defends. “I’ve always been like that.” He mumbles.

“So it wasn’t about me?”

“No…I…I wanted to cuddle you.” He wanted to do more, but again…his son was there.

“Well…I’m glad you did. It’s nice being the little spoon once in a while, and your cologne always smells so good, no complaints here.”

“You…you like my cologne?”

“Love it, actually.” You finish off your glass and you grab the bottle to pour just a little more in. “It’s nice when the person you have to see every day at work smells good.”

“Let’s see….” He holds his hand up to count on his fingers. “You like my work, you’re happy I cuddled you, and you enjoy my cologne.” He looks at you. “What should I be thinking of all this?”

“I…” You swirl your drink around. “Do you remember when I had that really awkward dream about you a while back?”

“Yes.”

“That was a complete accident, a freaky thing that happened that I didn’t want to have happen.”

“Is this one of those compliment sandwiches?”

“No, I’m…please…” You look at him. “The last time I went to Boston, as you know, I hooked up with someone.”

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes.

“But…I was having trouble getting there…and…well…” You look away from him. “You popped in and I was happy about it. I…thought of you…and…”

“And were you able to get there, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You say just above a whisper. “I wanted it to be you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date colleagues?”

“I don’t, but…” You look at him again. “I think I like you too much to care about that anymore.”

“God, I…” He gets up and kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands. “I like you so much, you have no idea.”

“Well, I have a small idea…woke up with you pressed against me.” You smirk.

“No way you felt anything between two sleeping bags and all the layers of clothes.”

“Little bit.”

“Christ.” He groans.

“Again, not complaining, it’s flattering, actually.”

“So when you let that guy leave that mark on the back of your shoulder, were you hoping it was me who did that too?” He stands up now.

“You saw that?” You gasp as you look up at him.

“I did…when you were running around your place getting everything together.” He pulls you to stand up, and he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “You were wearing a pretty flimsy tank top.”

“I don’t exactly get dolled up when I’m home all day working.”

“I guess we have that in common.” He pushes his glasses to the top of his head, and cups your jaw with one hand, and hooks his other arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in, and you tug at his shirt as his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, he’s just getting a feel for you, and then it turns needy. His hand slides to the back of your head, tugging softly at your hair to crane your head up more. You gasp at this, and he takes the openness as an invitation to nip at your bottom lip. You moan softly, and your tongue peeks out to meet his. They mold together like they were supposed to all along. Suddenly, he takes a step back.

“Wh…what’s wrong?” You wipe the small trail of spit from your mouth that he left behind.

“Nothing, I just…I told myself I wouldn’t do this while we were drinking. There have been a lot of times I’ve wanted to kiss you, but I haven’t because we were drunk or something.”

“I’m not drunk, are you?”

“I’m a little tipsy, yeah.”

“I, okay, yeah, so am I.” You chuckle

“So, I think we should stop for now. I wanna do this right. I wanna take you on a proper date.”

“I’d like that.” You smile, and then chew on your bottom lip. “It’s the right thing to do anyways, we shouldn’t jump into this too quickly. I have some different trips planned this summer, and I’m going to be busy working on things, getting my classes together…not exactly a whirlwind summer romance we’re looking at.”

“I have a conference in New York later this summer, so I’ll be busy as well getting my lecture ready.”

“Wait…I have a conference to go to in New York later this month too!”

“Really? Is it the CMT?”

“Yeah! I went last summer too and had such a good time. I had no idea you were giving a lecture, the itinerary doesn’t come out until next week.”

“I’m presenting some research about my wellness course…I’ve been collecting some data over the last three years I’ve been teaching it.”

“Ah, so you’re not going to be discussing the complexities of Pride and Prejudice?” You smirk at him.

“Nope, saving that for a rainy day.” He smirks back.

“Wow, well…that’s sort of exciting…we’ll be going to the same place for a few days.”

“We could, um, drive together if you wanted.”

“I was just going to take the bus…”

“I get free parking at the hotel since I’m part of the conference.”

“It’s a four hour drive…that’s a long time for you to be stuck with me.”

“Was stuck with you overnight not too long ago, and I didn’t mind it one bit.” He puts his hand on your shoulders. “Are you staying at the hotel where the conference will be?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” He smiles. “It’s, um, it’s a date then.”

“Yeah.” You smile at him. “Although…might be nice to go out before then…make sure we still like each other, and all that.” You joke.

“Yeah, I could easily not be into you in just a couple of weeks.” He jokes back and you can’t help but laugh.

“Let’s go inside, I need some water before I go home.”

“Good idea.”

He leads you in, and after a two glasses of water, and giving you a mock-sobriety test, he lets go. Well, not before giving you another steamy kiss by your car after you promised to text him when you got home. It was just as needy as the first kiss. He didn’t press his body up against yours, but from the way he was sucking on your bottom lip, you could tell he wanted you desperately. But like the responsible adults you were, you ended it there, and called it a night. A very good night.

[op-peccatori]

Hopefully, Yours (part 2) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 8326

Summary: It took some cake, a friend, and some impulsive behaviour, but they got there. (part 2 of Hopefully, Yours)

Warnings/Tags: making out, language, my cheeseball antics

a/n: I was afraid of opening this doc at one point because every time I did I added more words to it ;; Also accidentally deleted the first draft, so I hope I didn’t leave anything out for this one. 

[video]

After Hours | Victor and Y/n

200, 280 views • Feb 8th, 2020

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JTV ✓

1.19M subscribers 

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5100 comments

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somsom 5 minutes ago

They’re both so nice. Victor’s always made out to be this heartless CEO, so it’s nice to see this side of him :) 

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tooktiktook  7 minutes ago

hmmmMMM

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cheribb 15 minutes ago

their eyes said more than enough <3 <3

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saltqueen 16 minutes ago

what i wouldn’t give to have someone look that soft over me

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Victor eyed the cheerful grin splitting Jason’s face, just a little uneasy in his seat. 

While having eager eyes on him was not an unfamiliar experience, he’d never been in a position where he was expected to talk about his feelings on camera. Not that he was about to confess in front of the entire crew of the show, but when it came to you the lines always got a little too blurry for his comfort. 

He got a little too eager.

“Just be nice,” Jason had instructed gently, and Victor steeled himself. 

They started, quite predictably, by asking him about his ideal type. Resisting the urge to scoff, he tried to stick to the script he’d worked on with Goldman, who had insisted on being present for today’s shoot. Not that Victor was complaining; it wasn’t exactly part of the job description, but Goldman had been enthusiastic, which Victor could appreciate and would certainly reward. 

Goldman had also spent most of yesterday handling the public relations department in his absence, preparing them for his appearance on the show. A tentative plan would be sent to him by tomorrow morning. He had faith in them, believing that they would be able to make this look good for him. 

“Someone who works hard,” he answered, knowing you would laugh at that. “Who can be themselves around me, someone I can be myself around. Someone...kind.”

The times you’ve spent in Souvenir flit through his mind, some quiet and some full of bright-eyed chatter.

“You’ve known Y/n for some time, right?” the interviewer asked. She looked nice, but he’d been on the block long enough to know that even the kindest faces can often hide the sharpest teeth.

“Yes.”

“What do you think of her?”

“She’s a very kind person,” he said easily. “One of the most hard-working and inspiring people I’ve ever met.”

You would surely gape like a fool after  seeing this. It was a little embarrassing, but Victor was determined to leave your image shiny after this. He would not have any words of his twisted to give you a bad name. If it got even a fraction of his feelings across, well, that was a bonus he wouldn’t mind having. The intimate setting of the ferris wheel had seemed to help some, but his admittedly indirect confession didn’t reach you as he had hoped.

God, but his father would love this.

“Did you have fun on your date?”

“It was lovely.” They tacked on another question and he nodded. “I...yes, I’d love to do it again.”

It was a little curt, but he didn’t really get what Goldman had meant by ‘nod tenderly with a far-off look.’

What would you think of that?

The interviewer raised a brow, her smile widening. “Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

For some bizarre reason, the first thing that had come to his mind at this question was his inexplicable need to check your social idea every day. And the way his heart beats just a little faster when you’ve posted a new picture. How, in moments of weakness, he’d given in and saved a few to his phone. Even a mental reminder of it made him a little hot under the collar.

There were many things he couldn’t even begin to try and explain when it came to you.

Really, the list is endless.

Victor’s current favourite was the video you’d uploaded of eating the tiramisu he’d cooked. He watches it at the end of a bad day and just like that, he feels a little better.

“I think anyone who ends up with her would be the luckiest person in the world,” he said honestly. “She’s beautiful in every single way.”

The last three words were supposed to have stayed in his head, but saying them felt natural. Goldman seemed to approve, shooting him a discreet thumbs up.

When you walk in, sleep-deprived and grumpy but trying to hide it, thinking he won’t catch on as if he isn’t running sharp eyes over every inch of your face. When the first sip of your coffee is too eager, leaving your tongue burnt and him with a pressing need to soothe it with his own. When you eat too much sugar and complain about a stomach-ache; he scolds you for it, but his arms are left straining with the need to wrap themselves around you.

He cherished these moments and wanted every single one all to himself. 

She makes me greedy.

“Would you want to be that person?”

Victor laughed, light and incredulous. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. 

“I guess time will have to answer that question for us,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips, leaving it at just the right note to keep viewers hanging—right along with him.

lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

Hope y’all enjoyed the episode! #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp sooo really sorry about this but we’re kinda dying over here

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs Victor’s acc is still private. Maybe there’s something there? 

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@berryberry But Y/n’s isn’t private, and there’s nothing there. Give it up guys, they’re just friends. 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@hotsauce bruh that look?? was not friendship 

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@hotsauce those words?? were not friendship

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srirachafire @hotsauce 

@headaccs @berryberry you two?? are hopeless romantics

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lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

@headaccs honestly? me too D: 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp !!!!!! asdfgdvsd

Closing your Moments and the entire thread discussing the episode, you flop back down onto your mattress. Reaching for your newest plushy, you hug it tight, perhaps a tad too aggressively. 

It’s odd. You struggle between the visceral sort of pleasure that comes from a job well done—because the response is terrific—and the trembling nerves that come from watching yourself on a date with Victor.

Watching the episode had been harder than you had expected; you hadn’t quite been expecting the way Victor was looking at you—the intense gaze was a little too convincing, and watching it from the audience’s perspective was flustering. 

You spent most of it trying to suppress the inconvenient surges of hope, telling yourself it wasn’t real.

There really was nothing to know. The ferris wheel shot had ended there because you had nothing to say to Victor’s answer. You don’t know if he was referring to his past or his present, but the look in his eyes made it clear: his feelings were still there. Instead of pressing him, you chose to stay quiet, exhaustion clear in your face and sinking deep into your bones.

Victor had seemed to understand and maybe even appreciate it, probably not wanting to discuss it either, and only insisted on dropping you home. The ride to your place had been mostly silent, but you had tried to ask him his thoughts on the day and the shoot. He kept his answers concise, appearing a little distracted, which was so unlike him it made you wonder if he regretted opening up.

You’d spent the entire ride trying to quell the delicate little thing trembling in your chest.

The next video started while you were lost in your thoughts, and it happens to be your individual parts. Curious, you lean in, wincing slightly at the way you were fidgeting. 

And then they switch to Victor. You both had to wear the outfits from the date for these, but you still weren't quite expecting the impact his voice alone would have on you. 

And as always, those fierce eyes have you freezing in place.

“Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

He looks unfazed by the question. Of course, they go over the questions with you beforehand, but you still remember how nervous you’d felt when asked how you felt about him; Victor’s eyes flick towards the camera, filled with intent, as if addressing you—and you close the laptop with a snap, your throat tight.

You don’t have to watch that right away.

You had been very careful about what to say, how to act, channeling your inner-Victor to adopt a marble-smooth expression. Say nice things about him? Easy, you didn’t even have to make anything up. Imply just enough to keep people guessing. 

Keep your unwanted feelings to yourself. 

Palm coming to rest over your heart, pressing down as if it would alleviate the ache there, you try to sort through your thoughts. You never really thought there was a chance, but to hear it confirmed was a blow you weren’t prepared for. 

It’s ridiculous to feel so insecure, you think. You feel like you lost a competition you had never even had the chance to compete in. And over an unnamed, mysterious figure? So silly! 

But another part of your mind says it’s okay to feel this way, that it’s only natural. You’ve had such strong feelings for Victor for so long. And all of these feelings, the good and the bad, are yours; the wounds of your heart, the light in your laughter. Fighting them would only make you suffer. The love and the hurt are part of you, both important in their own right.

Knowing all of that doesn’t make it easier, though. 

After all, Victor had alluded to his feelings on camera, to your face. Knowing him, he would never do that unless he was sure about the person. 

“This fucking sucks,” you admit out loud, and at the heels of your words come the tears. Because, to make it even worse, people really seem to think it’s you. 

You can’t blame them, because even you had been taken in by his soft looks. Anyone watching would believe he’s smitten with you. Good for the show, terrible for you. 

You’re not strong enough to reply to them, to tell them you aren’t that fortunate, and have been hoping Victor, or someone from his team, would put a stop to it. 

But there hasn’t been any word from them and you curse out loud at the fact that he expects you to do something about it. As if there’s any more emphasis needed, your phone vibrates. Unlocking it with a miserable sigh, you scroll down quickly.

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Minor [19:40]: am I watching this right? Boss, are you dating the CEO? PLS SAY NO

Chik [20:21]: You bitch. When were you going to tell me you snagged THAT? So I was right back then, ha! Anyway, you two are adorbs. The puppy eyes are disgusting. I’m proud of you.

Chik [20:22]: also...deets. Now. I’ll even throw in a please!!! 

Lucien [20:40]: Well, now. I seem to have missed out on quite the opportunity.

Kiro [20:45]: I wish you’d invited me. But I guess it wouldn’t have mattered. I hope he makes you happy, Miss Chips! He better, or else ;P

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Frowning at the texts you scroll back up, hoping, hoping, hoping, and at the sight of the name that always sits at the tip of your tongue, you curl up tighter.

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Victor [21: 05]: Are you okay?

Y/N [21:20]: I’m fine. Moments seems to be blowing up, haha. Did you watch the episode?

Victor [21: 20]: Yes.

Victor [21: 21]: Did you?

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You pause at that, looking guiltily at your laptop. You had, sort of. Fighting off your own thoughts had taken up most of your attention. Resolving to watch it again—a clear display of previously dormant masochistic tendencies, roused by Victor— and actually pay attention this time, you turn back to the screen.

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Y/N [21:22]: Yeah, but not the individual parts. It was nice, they made it seem so real! But we’re going to have to say something to let them know there’s nothing like that.  

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You wait anxiously for a reply, a part of you clearly suffering from delusion hoping he’d oppose that. When there’s no text from him for a few minutes, you plug your phone in to charge and get out of bed, heading for a quick shower before you get something to eat.

Heartbreak hasn't been enough to curb your appetite, and you feel more than ready to let dessert have the chance to make you feel better.

Who needs Victor when you have cake, right?

Just as you’re halfway through cutting a slice of the cake Jason—well, his team—had sent as thanks, trying to keep your thoughts away from the bottle of wine you‘ve got tucked away, your doorbell rings, breaking the melancholic silence of your apartment. A part of you wants to roll your eyes at your dramatics, while the other feels you have the right to wallow for as long as you need to.

The irrational side of you stirs once more, conjuring thoughts of Victor rushing over, and you peep through the hole with a wildly thumping heart. 

Lucien’s serene smile chases those thoughts away, and you open the door with a sheepish grin. 

He looks a little tired, his dark bangs ruffled; unlike his usual sharp appearance, he looks impossibly soft in his barn red sweater and comfortable looking track pants. He’s also got a folder tucked under one arm.

“Hi!” 

“Sorry to drop by so late,” he greets you, his warm eyes bringing you a little comfort instantly. “But you mentioned you’d be working on Miracle Finder tomorrow and I wanted you to have the chance to go over my remarks before that.”

“Lucien! Thank you,” you insist, waving away his apology. “Would you like to come in? I’ve got cake.” 

He searches your face for a moment, and his eyes narrow the slightest bit. You feel a little self-conscious in your over-sized sweatshirt and shorts, but it’s not like he hasn’t seen you in various states of disarray before. 

“Can’t really say no to that. Let me get my laptop,” he finally agrees. You wait at the door as he gets it, before leading him in. But you notice his curious, inquisitive looks, so subtle and so Lucien, as he toes off his shoes.

“Everything okay?” You reach for another plate, cutting a second slice as Lucien takes a seat at the table. 

“Yes, of course. It’s just,” he hesitates, and there’s that odd scrutiny again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be alone.” 

“On a Sunday evening?” The first bite of the cake tastes like sweet comfort over the taste of despondency, and you send a silent thanks to Jason. “I spent the day napping.”

“Well, after the show I just watched,” he says, quite slyly in your opinion. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d be home.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in dating shows.” You’re aware your tone is more than a little petulant, but Lucien only laughs around a mouthful of the cake. 

“I am if you’re in one,” he retorts. “This is quite nice, by the way.” 

“The director, Jason sent it. And, honestly, it wasn’t planned. We were supposed to have Kai and Hollow on, but they ended up clashing horribly. Jason asked me and Victor was around, so…” you trail off, uncomfortable. 

“Is that why you texted me that day?” He seems to have remembered your message, and you wince slightly. You had texted him later with an apology, but hadn’t really expected him to cotton on. He doesn't look mad, just expectant.

“Well, yes, but Jason wanted, he wanted Victor.” Stumbling over your words, heat suffuses your skin as you flounder for a moment.

Lucien watches you with the eyes of a fox and the understanding of a good friend. “Just Jason?”

“Huh?”

“Was it just Jason who wanted Victor?” he asks, tilting his head as your mouth purses. 

No, no, of course it wasn’t. You stare down at your half-eaten cake, the other half of it beginning to churn in your stomach. His small, soft smiles. His scent. His rants on street food and the way he dragged you away from food that would ‘absolutely make you ill, you absolute dummy’ as Jason resigned himself to having to cut all of that out. It all comes back in a rush, your head left feeling heavy.

And then it feels the weight of a hand, as Lucien reaches over to pat it gently. “Never mind. Why don’t you get your organizer and we can go over tomorrow’s episode?” 

Relieved, grateful and slightly emotional over his silent acceptance, you rush to your bedroom to find your notebook and laptop, barely catching the light of your phone screen before it went black. Unplugging and checking it as you exited the room with your materials in hand, your train of thought comes to a screeching halt.

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Victor [21:59]: Do you really believe that?

Victor (2 missed calls)

Victor [22:15]: Y/n.

Victor [22:16]: ...Did you fall asleep?

Victor [22:18]: Dummy. Goodnight. 

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Unwilling to delve into what his first text means, you shift your thick planner in your arms and type a quick reply. 

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Y/N [22:19]: Hi! Sorry. I went to get something to eat and then Lucien dropped by. We’re going to get to work haha ^^

Victor [22:19]: …

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You wait for a whole minute before Lucien calls for you, and let your hand fall, phone locked, with a sigh. 

Well, at least he’ll be happy to hear you’re working hard.

Sinking into familiar, engaging discussions with Lucien is easy. Even with the thoughts of Victor looming at the back of your mind, you straighten out a plan for the shoot. Lucien listens to your input carefully, adding his own notes as you squint at yours. His voice, familiar and soothing, lulls you, distracting you from yourself for a short while.

Before you know it, it’s eleven and you’ve got a fantastic plan in hand. 

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” you say for the second time in a minute, and he gives you an exasperated look. “And thank you.” 

“I’ve told you, there’s no need for all that between us,” Lucien repeats, crossing one long leg over the other as he adopts a thoughtful look. “However, perhaps you could satisfy my curiosity regarding one thing.”

“What is it?” 

You were prepared for a philosophical question. What he comes up with is, in your opinion, way more difficult to answer. 

“Why aren’t you with Victor?” he asks seriously. You blink, uncomprehending.

“Like, right now?” 

“Right now, or in general. I didn’t think he would just...let you be,” Lucien mutters the last part under his breath, but you still catch it. He continues to say something about possessive bastards, but you’re not touching that.

“I think you’ve misunderstood,” you say, slowly, with a nervous laugh, shoulders hunching a little. “All of that was just for the camera. Victor and I aren’t like that.” 

“But you have feelings for him,” Lucien points out, cutting straight to the heart of the matter and yours. Really, this is almost cruel. Lucien turns to face you fully as you sigh and sink back into the couch. 

“I do.” It’s the first time you’ve admitted it out loud. Sure, some of the people in your life have had an idea, but you’ve never said it. Lucien seems like a good person to start with. “But he doesn’t feel the same way, so.” 

And you’ve never said that out loud either. It hurts, as you put it out into the universe. As if shying away from it before would have increased your chances. 

Lucien looks at you oddly. “Did he say that? Because the way he looks at you says otherwise. It’s quite embarrassing.”

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I’ve never told him how I feel,” you mumble, pressing the side of your cheek into the soft fabric, hoping it would swallow you up. 

“Then how do you know how he feels?” Lucien continues to probe, and you exhale forcefully because it’s so clear to you; why isn’t it ever as clear to everyone else? 

And Lucien is supposed to be your smart friend!

‘Well, there’s also someone else in his life but I can’t exactly say that.’

“Because it’s Victor,” you declare with an emphatic sweep of your hands, hoping it would somehow get your point across, that it would explain how unattainable he is. Just as you do, two things happen successively. 

One: Lucien looks at you as if he wants to boink you on the head or laugh really loudly. He does neither, but his mouth twitches violently.

And two: there’s a series of loud, heavy knocks on your door, before the culprit seems to remember you have a doorbell and rings that instead. It only rings once, but you can sense that the person is still there.

Exchanging alarmed looks with Lucien, you rise to your feet and shuffle towards the door.

“Let me,” Lucien murmurs, stopping you before you can reach the entrance, and steps forward to look through the peephole. His only reaction is a quick, sharp exhale before he steps back to unlock the door. 

Without telling you who was just knocking at your door like a maniac. 

“Wait, who i-” the words fall away with your panicked thoughts, as Lucien opens the door to reveal your uninvited visitor.

It really is Victor this time, with his chest heaving as if he’d run up the stairs. Victor, with his inky hair pushed back carelessly, in dark grey sweats and a light grey t-shirt and indoor slippers. 

Victor, with a furious look in his eyes as he pushes past Lucien, who looks a little too entertained in the face of such ire. 

“Sorry to intrude on your cosy evening,” he says, after a short pause, through clenched teeth. You stare at him in disbelief, unable to form actual words at the moment. It feels as if a concentrated storm itself has swept into your living room, ready to swallow you up. 

Of course, a part of you would be more than okay with that. Even with that knife-sharp glint in his eyes, you can’t help but want to throw yourself at it, let it graze the softest parts of you, in an emotional variation of bloodletting. 

Sometimes you surprise yourself with the things you think.

Maybe you should’ve changed into nicer pyjamas after all, damn it.

“Victor? What-is everything okay?” You look him over carefully, seeing no visible signs of injury. The stony look on his face, however, keeps you from coming too close. What could you possibly have done now?

Swiftly, you run through a list of work-related tasks. Nope. Nothing. You’ve been sure to give it your all this week just so Victor wouldn’t feel the need to call you.

Even now, though, something under your skin starts buzzing, as it always does when his entire attention is on you.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” he says mutinously, crossing his arms over his chest. Okay, you’re sensing more than a little hostility here. 

And, because life is unfair, bitchy is also a good look on Victor.

“Well,” you draw out, looking past him at Lucien, who shrugs lightly. Victor frowns at the exchange. He levels a downright lethal glare at Lucien, who tilts his head in clear interest. Kinda hot, but you should probably keep that to yourself lest you push Victor to the point of spitting fire. “It’s...late...and you’re here…?”

That has his mouth doing that little spasm it does when he’s pissed. “And I notice I’m not the only one. What, is it just me who’s barred from coming to your place this late?” 

“Well, n-no,” you stammer, looking once more at Lucien who seems content to watch and be unhelpful. “But Lucien was just here to talk about tomorrow’s episode.” 

Why are you here? 

The question seems to hang in the air, unsaid yet clear. 

Victor says nothing, standing tall in your living room like an indignant matron. You feel helpless, confused, elated and increasingly offended because of the implication in his words that only catches up to you now.

You pick the path of offense.

“But what, exactly, did you think Lucien was doing here?” you ask, your tone turning decidedly cooler. He returns your glare. Behind him, you see Lucien trying to hide a smile. “You seem to be under the impression that I make it a habit of entertaining people in my evenings?” 

Victor blinks at that, arms coming loose, and you hold up a hand.

“And even if I did want to have friends over at night,” you say loudly, through gritted teeth. “What business is it of yours?” 

“It’s inappropriate,” he insists. 

“No, what’s inappropriate is you coming into my house and telling me who I should, or should not, be spending time with, regardless of the time.” Much to your frustration, you find yourself blinking back tears as your voice cracks towards the end. 

Victor deflates at that, the ice in his expression melting in the face of your furious tears; Lucien, concern clear on his face, takes a step towards you. Your eyes squeeze shut, as if that would hide you from them; anger and embarrassment war within you at not only crying in front of Victor, but to have a quiet Lucien witnessing this ridiculous drama. 

Where did your peaceful day go?

You hear footsteps, hesitant and barely audible, come closer, feel the heat from a body as it nears yours. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” It’s Victor.

Your eyes snap open to the sight of his back, your feet carrying you forward without the aid of your thoughts, a hand curling loosely into his t-shirt. 

Leave? Just like that? 

He stops in his tracks, looking back down at you in surprise. You’re not sure what he sees as you keep your eyes fixed on his shoulder, but it makes him sigh softly.

A thumb wipes under your eyes, gentle, and strong arms wrap around you carefully, pulling you into an—unreasonably broad, you think—chest; his comforting scent envelopes you, pulling you back from the edge. 

It’s frustrating. You want to yell at him for barging in like a lunatic. But you don’t want him to leave. You want to sink into his steady embrace and allow the solace it brings.

With your face pressed to his t-shirt, you miss the way he looks back at Lucien, who nods and turns to leave, but not before holding Victor’s gaze for a moment longer—you don’t see the warmth drain from his face, the vicious warning warning clear in his eyes. 

Victor pulls you closer, nodding once. 

If Lucien’s answering smile is a touch more resigned than amused, neither of them can really acknowledge it. 

You try to pull back when you hear the door close gently, but Victor cards a hand through your hair and you slump back into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, stroking your hair, with a gentle hesitance uncharacteristic for the decisive man. “That was...extremely inappropriate of me. I should not have done that. I can leave. I should.”

He should. But neither of you move. His heart beats a little faster, the sound clearer the longer your ear remains pressed into his chest. 

With cotton in your mouth, your mind totally mush with the knowledge that Victor’s hugging you, and with the little voice yelling that he does not get to hold you after driving you to tears—it takes you a moment to form a response. 

But you can’t resist. “So what you’re saying is you made an impulsive decision.” 

The soft motions of his hand pause before he huffs into your hair. There’s no other response, and it makes you smile a little.

“Why did you?” you finally ask. Victor quite visibly lost his cool. While he did seem to have something against Lucien, this was a bit much. You hadn’t been aware that the hostility ran this deep.

He tucks your head under his chin, the arm around your waist tightening, and as the anger subsides, your face begins to heat up as you realize how intimate this is. But Victor seems content to stay like this, and your heart hammers when you feel something brush the crown of your head. 

“Dummy,” he mutters, and yes, his words are slightly muffled by your hair, and you feel the urge to stick your head in the refrigerator. “You had that guy over this late at night. Do you really need to ask?” 

“It’s just Lucien,” you respond, and this time he lets you pull your head away to look at you with abject disbelief. 

“Just? There’s no just with that guy.” He seems serious, so you swallow the laughter bubbling up.

“Lucien is a dear friend,” you assure him. “You were really that worried about it?”

“Worried,” Victor repeats, staring at you. Your confusion is clear in your face, as the feeling that you’re missing something creeps in. “Worried. Yes. I was worried.” 

You nod encouragingly, and take a quick step back when he laughs. It isn’t one of his airy laughs, that escapes him when he finds something funny. It’s low, almost strangled—and then he steps forward, expression melting into sheer intent. 

When he speaks, his voice is a full octave lower and it scrambles your brains with shameful ease.

“Since he was the one you considered over me for our date that day. Yes, I suppose I was worried,” he muses, matching every unsteady step you take backwards with one towards you. You refrain from pointing out that it was for a show, and all too soon, the back of the sofa hits your hips and Victor looms over you. 

You tuck the part about him knowing you wanted to ask Lucien first away for later. Victor, his soothing scent, the heat from his breath, his tempestuous gaze—your senses flood with him.

“Y-yeah. But you didn’t need to be, he always helps us out,” you point out confusedly, and he gives you a familiar, unimpressed look that brings a small, and odd, measure of relief. 

“What kind of a person would I be,” he says, and your stomach swoops as he leans over you, hands resting on the top of the sofa as you lean back. “If I let dangerous men like him think they have a chance with you?” 

“Dangerous? He’s…” The rest of his words catch up and you can’t think, tongue struggling to form coherent speech. “Not...dangerous?” 

“Too dangerous,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your temple. Something in the back of your throat trembles. “Even if I don’t have the right, I…”

He doesn’t continue.

Holding your breath, you count to five before releasing it, pulse beating an anticipatory beat in your veins. “Why should anyone think they don’t have a chance with me?” 

You know he hasn’t, but with how everything in you stills after asking that question, you wonder if he stopped time.

You’re not sure if it’s the right question to have asked, or the worst.

But it gives him pause, and when the tip of your tongue slips out to wet your lips, his eyes slide down to your mouth. A large hand slides up your spine to rest at the back of your head, your skin erupting with goosebumps at the touch. 

Your lips part on the softest sound and it makes something rumble in his chest, quiet but clear with how close he is. 

It gives you what you’ve been dreaming of—Victor’s lips falling over yours, soft, with a rushed breath and fervent eyes, something desperate at the edge of it. Everything goes quiet, with only your blood pounding in your ears. It feels as if every inch of you is awake in a tingly sort of way, your thoughts deserting you at the way he looks at you, ready to devour. 

There’s hunger in his eyes, and you feel faint when it hits you.

It’s also his answer, you realize, mouth opening to say something, anything, and he pulls you back, kissing you fiercely. Something in you caves, spilling into your blood, setting it alight with a burst of sparking desire.

Victor kisses with his entire body, like he does everything else: controlling every inch of it, sweeping your mind clean, licking into your mouth with the determination that drives his every action, to conquer.

But you’ve been determined to match him since the day you first met him, all too eager to push back and clash. You don’t mind the clack of teeth, the lack of rhythm, and Victor only presses in harder as your arms slide over his shoulders, fingers weaving into his hair. Your tongue is a sly thing that licks along his, your mouth a clever warm weapon that sucks at it, and he unravels. 

Hands that were so careful lose their caution as they dig into the sides of your hips, slinking down and hooking around your thighs as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“You’re not stopping me,” he rasps against your lips, almost questioning, pupils blown wide. He looks so good you might just lose your mind, and this is after a kiss.

Taking a page out of his book, you kiss him again. 

He carries you around the sofa—with a strength you’ll be sure to admire deeply once you’ve regained the ability to form thoughts—even as he sucks bruises into the delicate skin of your neck, sitting down with you sinking into his lap. 

You’re shivering, you realize, at this sudden fulfilment of a desperate, impossible wish. Your knees press into the sides of his thighs as Victor kisses the corners of your mouth, the curve of your upper lip, the plush, swollen jut of your lower lip—and you feel deliriously drunk. 

He watches you carefully.

“Oh,” you say, half-slurring, kissed stupid. “That’s why.”

“Hm,” he agrees, nuzzling the side of your face. His eyes are bright, his arms a grounding touch around your back. “No one should think they get to have this.” 

“No one but you?” It’s meant to be clever, sharper, but it comes out shy instead. He nips at the shell of your ear, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it. 

“If you allow it,” he confirms. He presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear.

Something swells within you, sweet, sudden and threatening to dissolve you into tears. It breaks open, everything you’ve worked so hard to suppress spilling out like hoarded treasure out of a box now too small to hold it.

“I like you.” It comes out in a rush, and you slap your hands over your face. This time, his low chuckle rings clear in your ears. But when your breath hitches on a sob, his grip on you tightens, lips finding your forehead. “I really like you. So much. I have for a while. At the fair, all of it, I wasn’t...wasn’t acting.” 

“What, and you thought I was?” He looks a little offended when you take a peek at his face. But the sight of his ruffled hair and kissed-puffy lips sends a hot, thrilled jolt through you, and you have to restrain yourself from pouncing. “I have many skills. Acting, admittedly, is not one of them.”

“I thought maybe it was a hidden passion or something,” you mutter, trying to repress a wet laugh at the withering look he gives you, gentle hands wiping at your eyes. “What, you were great!”

“Nope. That was all real,” he declares, pulling you in to rest against him, your head on his shoulder. You feel a little awkward, but that’s mostly outweighed by how much you want to stay here. “...well, maybe I was a little…”

“Nicer than usual?” you offer, and he huffs into your hair. “Cheesy, like you binge-read several romance novels the night before?”

“Cheesy?” He protests, and you laugh with warmth building and rushing through you. “I thought you liked all that.” 

“I do.” This time, the kiss he presses into the crown of your head is firmer. 

“Then I’ll do it.” You look up at him, a little enchanted, a little bewildered, but the former wins out as the corners of his mouth curl up. “Every silly thing you want to do. Oh, and I really like you too.” It’s almost a scoff, but the tremor in his voice and the flush that spreads across his skin speaks his truth.

“Really?” you ask, your grin a little mad and ridiculously beatific. It feels unreal, the joy and relief spreading through you; he pecks the tip of your nose.

“Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” Victor asks, and the solemn sincerity in his voice prompts you to deliver a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek, just because you can. To your unending joy, the lobes of his ears are almost impossibly red. 

“Never,” you assure him, peppering more kisses over his skin, fascinating by the sight of him pinkening. A thought strikes you, dampening your rising spirits. “I thought...thought there was someone else.” 

He makes a soft, surprised noise in his throat, disbelief winning out over the tenderness for a moment. “Who?”

“I don’t know!” You press your face into the side of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent, hoping it would help with the remnants of hurt. “Some mystery goddess.” 

He’s quiet as you nuzzle his rapidly warming skin, feeling the first hints of sheer mortification settle in at the way your voice just cracked. He whispers something. 

“Sorry?” 

Victor clears his throat. “Just you.” He buries his nose in your hair before you have the chance to lean back like you want to. “It’s only ever been you.” 

Not expecting the sincere confession, it feels as if the breath was punched out of you.  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

He toys with a strand of your hair, curling it absently around a finger. “I didn’t want to overstep. And to make you feel like you had to reciprocate.” 

You stay silent, sensing that he has more to say, even though you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

“I’ll admit that I feared you would feel pressured to be with me. And that would...I would rather see you happy with someone else, than see you miserable with me.”

“I could never be miserable with you,” you protest at once, feeling almost offended by the mere suggestion. 

“I’m not...I know I can be difficult.” The words fall out in a rushed exhale, as if he wants to get them out before they can be swallowed; you feel weak with the force of your emotions. “But I can try for you. I did that day. I wanted you to relax, to have fun, like you do with your friends. I didn’t want you to be so...cautious.” 

It’s true, you realize guiltily, that there are times where you can’t completely relax in Victor’s company. Those are the days where your feelings sit a little heavier in your stomach, when his words strike a little sharper. The thought of disappointing him, of doing something not to his taste, of judgment, held you back. 

But the day of the fair had been different. He met you halfway, maybe even more than that, and never said a word of complaint. You’d assumed that had been for the camera, though.

“Please,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you realize you’d said that out loud. “No, that was…” He lowers his gaze, long lashes fanning over the tops of his cheekbones. “That was to show you that you can have fun with me too. I...like you. The way you are. Every bit. The determined, unyielding parts.”

You stare at him.

“The hurting, unsure parts,” he says, a little quieter. “The silly, ridiculously cute parts—don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” you ask, your overworked mind trying to process his words, knowing your smile is probably embarrassingly dopey. 

He scowls at you. “Just be yourself with me. Dummy is fine.” 

“Victor,” you exclaim all of a sudden, startling him. “How am I supposed to stay standing in the face of you saying things like that?” 

He rolls his eyes again. “First of all, you’re sitting right now, and I don’t plan to let you move for a while.” Predictably, you feel a little lightheaded at that. “And as for the future...then don’t try to stand, dummy. You can just rest here.” He pulls your head to rest on his shoulder, patting it firmly.

“I’m going to die,” you say with absolute certainty into his shoulder. “I can’t survive this.” 

“You have to,” he mutters dryly, tucking you more firmly against him. “Haven’t you seen the discussions? Our ‘love story’ can’t end in your death, too many would be left devastated.” 

“Including you?” The look you direct at him is positively vulpine, and he snorts, pushing your head back down. Bully. 

The titillated fluttering in your stomach makes you smile.

“...I can’t become a widower before we even get married,” he says solemnly, and you can nearly feel the blood drain from your face as you rear back. 

The corners of his mouth twitch with something like mischief, and the smack you deliver to his bicep is perfectly justified. 

The undoubtedly chiselled muscle you feel very briefly will also require further rumination once you’re alone.

He’s cracking marriage jokes, no doubt referring to the few comments gushing about a secret wedding. An hour ago, you had been under the impression that he was madly in love with some mystery figure. 

Like a bird just freed, your heart flutters at the thought of him having feelings for you.

“Say it again.” 

To his credit, he doesn’t do you the disservice of pretending he doesn’t know what you’re asking for. He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the side before finding their way back to yours. 

“I like you,” he says, a little lower, a lot deeper. “Dummy.” 

You wish you could see what your face was doing, because it makes his eyes go really, really soft. Now that you aren’t weighed down by the frantic need to hide your feelings from one of the most astute people you’ve ever met, you feel like you could float away the way you’ve seen Gavin do, just from how free and happy you feel.

“Just for the record,” you say quietly. “I like you the way you are too.”

“Hm?”

“Even when you’re being a jerk.” He tweaks your ear lightly, rolling his eyes when you giggle. Your heart beats a harsh beat as you try to come up with the right words. “But you’re also the best man I know. When you have it together, and when you don’t—I’ll be there for you. Always.” The way he’s always been there for you.

He kisses the tip of your nose, his pretty eyes a little shinier than before.

“We should aim for a real date first.” He sounds decisive, and a little hoarse.

“...I have a list of places I thought would be good for our first date,” you admit, eyes still locked with his despite your shy admission. He looks pleased, always happy when you take the initiative, and you watch his mouth do that tender thing for a second before leaning in for a swift kiss, catching his lower lip between your teeth as you pull away.

“Good.” His head falls back onto the sofa as your lips trail down his neck curiously, mouthing at the slope of his adam’s apple. Just because you can. “Send it to me.”

“Good,” you murmur, breath hitching in your throat as his hands curl over your waist, skimming the hem of your sweatshirt. “We’re doing this, then.” 

“Most definitely.” With how throaty his voice has gotten as you reach his clavicle, a gentle explorer, you’re not sure words will be your allies for much longer.

“Will you be my boyfriend then, Mr. CEO?” you ask playfully, tasting the words in your mouth. Victor makes a soft, content sound in his throat. 

“I’m all yours,” he affirms, relishing the words in his mouth, raising his head to look at you through hooded eyes. You both know it, just a little, but saying the words brings a giddy, vulnerable sort of feeling with them. “And you…”

With no need for hope, just certainty, you rise up to kiss him softly. 

“I’m yours.” 

BTS:

Goldman stares at Jason in horrified disbelief, shocked by the words that had just left the director’s mouth. He glances at his boss, whose only reaction had been to cock a brow. 

“Would you be open to replacing Kai?”

“I’m...not really one for such shows,” Victor says, quite delicately in Goldman’s opinion, knowing the man usually has no qualms about being savagely blunt.

“I’m aware. I just thought it would be something different, something that would let people see a different side of you,” Jason explains, still completely at ease. 

Victor’s expression makes it quite clear he doesn’t care about people seeing other sides of him.

“Who’s the other participant? Did Hollow come back?” Goldman asks, curious despite himself.  In his very personal opinion, which he will definitely be keeping to himself, it might be nice for Victor’s image if people saw he isn’t always heartless. 

“Oh, no. She didn’t,” Jason says pleasantly. But the look in his eyes is almost hawklike as he keeps them locked on Victor. “I asked Y/n to do it instead. She agreed.” 

Now, to the untrained eye, Victor gives no outward reaction to that statement. 

But Goldman sees the way his brow twitches, the way his lips purse the slightest bit. He wonders if Jason, as a director with many years of experience under his belt, caught it too. 

“She agreed?” Victor asks, sounding as if he doesn’t quite believe it. 

“Yes,” Jason answers, suddenly distracted as he glances at his wristwatch. He sighs, a touch too dramatic to be convincing, but Goldman doesn’t think Victor cares about that. “But I understand. We wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not interested in. I have to go check on her, we’ll keep you updated.”

Something is happening here, Goldman realizes. Jason isn’t rushing out, but seems to be waiting for something. 

Victor, staring at the surface of the coffee table, is struggling. 

Goldman struggles too. He struggles not to roll his eyes in abject exasperation, to pray for divine patience. Why is he like this? Of course, to step into such an obvious trap surely goes against all the instincts he’s honed over the years, but none of that matters when it comes to the delicate matters of the heart! 

Instead, he catches Jason’s eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes glinting. 

“But who else would you ask to step in on such short notice?” Goldman asks, pointedly. 

And finally, Goldman holds his breath as the ghost of a smirk passes over Jason’s mouth.

This is it.

“Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem. Y/n said she could call Professor Lucien, having already guessed Victor wouldn’t be, um, up for it. She really knows you well, huh?” Jason informs them cheerfully, and even Goldman isn’t expecting that. He thought Jason would go for the ‘who will help poor y/n’ route.

It’s obvious manipulation, and they all know it. Knowing Victor, he will stubbornly refuse to give in and suffer for it. At least, the way he’s glaring at Jason seems to indicate that.

Goldman rushes through several justifications in his head, forming a rapidly coherent argument as to why he should do it, carefully keeping ‘if you don’t want to see her with someone else, suck it up’ and ‘please, please, watching you sulk is really sad I can’t do it’ off the list. 

Surely, Victor wouldn’t let the sexy professor sweep you off your feet? He’s heard the man talk, that kind of smooth talk should not be allowed and holy hell, Jason has played this really well. 

“They do get along well, so it should work,” Jason muses, slathering a little more icing on his three-tier cake of clear-cut manipulation, drama, and subterfuge.

“I’ll do it.” It’s said through a tightened jaw, but it rings clear in the silence of the room. Goldman abandons his mental speech, head whipping around to stare at Victor.

“Oh?” Jason sounds genuinely surprised, as if he hadn’t been aiming for this from the start. 

“Yes,” comes the answer, leaving no room for argument. 

“Are you sure?” Jason asks, oddly somber, finally abandoning the pretense. So he is in possession of some morals, who would have thought?

“Give me the briefing,” Victor says, shoulders set in a firm, determined line Goldman is all too familiar with. 

Jason relaxes into his seat, relief clear in his face. 

And as Victor turns to him, giving him specific instructions about his outfit, cologne and flowers, determined to do this right with that familiar, besotted spark in his eye, Goldman feels warm pride trickle in. 

‘We’re gonna get you the girl, boss.’

Aaaaaaand...CUT. 

I know the last behind the scenes thing wasn’t really needed but I had to 

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 10- Recipe for Love

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookshop/Bartender AU)

Word Count: 2,064

Summary: You and Bucky decide to host dinner for your friends and afterwards you get the best idea ever...

Author’s Note: Thank you all so very much for sticking with me and continuing to read! This has really been such an escape for me and I can never thank you enough for reading and being so kind and supportive. Thank you all for reading and much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: sweet fluff, soft smut, fluffersmut, fun with friends :) 

Previous Chapters 

Chapter 1: Enchantment

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers 

Chapter 7: Love Lines & Soul Finds

Chapter 8: Drunk in Love

Chapter 9: Pour in onto the Page

The rest of the night goes on in a blur of soft touches, heated kisses and whispered, “I love yous.” Now that the words are out it’s as if neither of you have anything else to say. The uber ride back to Manhattan is as sugary sweet as the cotton candy you’re licking off your fingers. “Oh my god, Bucky! I forgot how good this stuff is!” you exclaim as you pull off another chunk of the spun sugar. “I know!” Bucky replies, kissing some melting pink sugar off your lips.

You giggle, trying to refrain from poking him with your sticky fingers. “Sweetheart, if you get that sticky crap stuck in my hair, we’re gonna have a problem.” Your fingers reach toward him as you hold back laughter. Bucky quickly grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth, slowly sucking the sugar off the tip of each finger. “I wish we were home already,” you breathe out.

When you finally fall through the door of your apartment, you’re surprised you’re still dressed, Bucky’s hands groping you from the moment you got out of the uber. He walks you backward until you bump the small island in your kitchen, his arms lifting you up and sitting you on the countertop. Your hands card through his hair as he kneels between your legs, pushing up the skirt of your dress.

His eyes watch you as he trails kisses up your thigh, his soft hair slipping through your fingers as you try to find a hold on something. With the languid movements of his tongue he takes you apart, your body completely sated as he stands to unzip his jeans. You waste no time, helping him get them to the floor.

He enters you slowly and you feel every inch, his forehead pressed to yours while you relish in the feeling of each other. The lights from the city cast a soft glow on your skin as Bucky’s hands and mouth explore every inch with a newfound reverence.  It isn’t long before you come undone, his name a quiet plea falling from your lips.  

The next morning you find the other side of the bed empty, but the smell of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air. With a satisfied hum you throw off the covers, covering your nakedness with Bucky’s shirt. “Do you always walk around shirtless?” you ask as you enter the kitchen, Bucky’s back to you as he stands over the coffee pot.

“Are you complaining,” he croons, throwing you a look over his shoulder. “Not at all,” you say, walking over and wrapping your arms around his waist. “That smells so good! I’m so glad someone is finally using the coffee pot. I usually just get it from the café down the street.” He turns and hands you a steaming cup, asking, “you mean the little spot on West 22nd and 9th Ave?” You nod as you take your first sip, moaning at the taste.

“It’s going out of business!” You nearly spit out the delicious coffee, “WHAT?” Bucky frowns, holding you against his chest, “yeah, the new Starbucks that opened nearby is killing them.” Now it’s your turn to frown, the realization you may have to start brewing your own coffee or paying way too much for one making you angry. You take another sip, eyeing Bucky over the mug, “that’s awful. I really liked that place!”

Kissing the top of your head he says assuredly, “you have me and since you seem to approve of my coffee making skills, I think you’ll manage.” With a contented smile you reach behind him for your cookie tin, picking it up and noticing it feels way too light. “Bucky. Did you eat the last of the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies?”

Hanging his head, he doesn’t answer but it’s all the confirmation you need. “I can’t believe you didn’t even leave me one!” He tries to look sheepish but fails terribly as he checks for crumbs along his mouth. “Well, they were amazing! And I was hungry this morning!” he says in defense. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that” you say. He takes your unfinished coffee from your hands and places in on the counter. “Actually, I’m the lucky one and I love you too,” he says, before stopping any further conversation with his lips on yours.

You spend Sunday afternoon at the bookshop with Bucky, organizing some shelves and just enjoying each other’s company. As per her usual Sunday visit, Grandma Betty strolls in shortly after lunch, her smile bright at the sight of you both. “Look at you two. You’re practically glowing today! I knew a night out would be good for my boy. Was it as fun as you remembered?”

Bucky sends a heart stopping smile your way before launching into a full recap of your night and how perfect it was. Grandma leaves with a smile that matches yours and a promise of some of your now famous peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.

After the visit you can tell that Bucky’s mood has dampened slightly, his teeth working over his bottom lip and his forehead creased in thought. “Hey baby, you think Steve, Peggy, Nat and Sam would want to come over for dinner next weekend? Maybe we can do it early before you guys have to be at the bar?” His spirits seem to lift at the idea, and he sends out a text to see if everyone is available.

Once your plans are made and you all settle on a time you ask him, “what do I make for dessert?” He laughs, raising his brow before he speaks. You cut him off, “I’m not making you any more of those cookies. In fact, I’m going to make a whole batch, give them all to your grandma and you can’t have any!” He pretends to pout which makes you laugh, his antics hard to resist. “I’ll bake something new! A surprise!” you exclaim, winking his way.

You spend almost every weeknight at Bucky’s apartment, except for Wednesday night because Nat insists she needs some girl time. “So. Does it feel different now that you guys said I love you?” she asks, sitting on the couch with her legs stretched out over yours while sipping her wine. “It just feels right. I can’t really explain it. It all seems so cliché when I really think about it, but I’ve also not felt surer about anything before.”

Nat tilts her head in understanding, her hand reaching over to squeeze yours. “I get it. I’m so happy for you.” With another sip of your wine you reply, “thanks, I love you. Now stop stalling and tell me about your weekend with Sam!” She giggles and you squeal when you see a light blush creep over her cheeks. “OH MY GOD! WELL??” She kicks you with her foot, scowling before she says, “it’s the wine! I swear!” You laugh, knowing full well she’s full of shit. “Yea right. You can’t fool me. SPILL IT!”

Saturday morning rolls around and you and Bucky leave his apartment together, you’re heading out for baking supplies and Bucky heading to the bookshop to open and prepare for his early departure. “If you need me to pick anything up on my way back just let me know, doll. I can easily make a stop.” You pepper his cheek with kisses, saying thank you in between before planting a good one on his lips. “I love you,” he murmurs, watching you walk down the street until you’re out of his sight.

You decide on making a coconut cream pie for dessert, checking beforehand that everyone is a fan of the fruit. It’s the first time you’re making it and you’re both excited and nervous. Once you have everything you need you head back to Bucky’s and start preparing, making sure to send him plenty of silly texts as you bake. Thankfully the two of you had made a sauce and breaded chicken cutlets the night before so all that had to be done other than the pie was frying up the cutlets and cooking the pasta.

Bucky arrives home right on time. “Wow. It smells amazing in here baby.” He gives you a tight hug, picking you up off your feet and kissing you soundly before running off to take a quick shower. Once he’s clean and ready you finish up the cooking and put the pie in the oven. Bucky sets the table and you prepare some small appetizers.

Steve and Peggy arrive first, and Peggy joins you in the kitchen for some gossiping and wine. You look over her shoulder to see Bucky and Steve on the couch plowing through the snacks. “Hey boys! Can you please try to save some for Nat and Sam??” They both look up guiltily, trying to hide their mouthfuls of food. “Sorry,” they mumble simultaneously.

Luckily, Sam and Nat show up only moments later and Sam can snag a few bites. Dinner goes off without a hitch and everyone sits with their glass of wine while they wait for dessert. “Nat has been going on and on about y/n’s baking all week! I can’t wait to eat this pie!” Sam shouts. “I know, Bucky said her cookies are better than my mom’s!” Steve chimes in, raising his eyebrows.

Everyone looks at Steve in shock, their mouths hanging open. “What the heck guys?” you say as you walk to the table holding the pie. “What happened?” Steve quickly speaks up, “nothing y/n! We were just talking about how good your baking is. That looks amazing!” You throw them a knowing smirk and put the pie on the table, serving a slice to everyone.

Sam shovels in a giant bite, moaning around the fork. “Holy cow, this is incredible y/n!” Steve follows suit, closing his eyes and mumbling something about heaven while he chews. Bucky looks up and gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling as he mouths “I love you.”

Before you can answer him Sam snorts, pulling your attention away as you watch him point and laugh. “Jeez, you two are sweeter than this pie.” You scowl at him and try to hold back your laughter but fail miserably when Nat chimes in and says, “that’s the best you could do. Really?” Everyone starts laughing and Bucky pulls you into his lap, feeding you a piece of the pie. “Wow. It really did come good,” you say, only loud enough for him to hear.

While everyone continues to eat Bucky makes some coffee, the smell drifting through the small apartment and perking everyone up. The rest of the evening goes by fast and before you know it, Bucky and Sam must leave for the bar. Bucky tries to help you clean up, but you shoo him out, looking forward to a little alone time with Peggy and Nat. “It’s fine Buck, don’t worry! We can definitely handle this!”

It doesn’t take the three of you long to clean up, afterwards getting comfy on the couch with a glass of wine. You hang out for another couple of hours before the yawning starts, the wine and good food catching up to all of you. “Thank you so much for coming, this was so fun!” They enthusiastically agree, telling you for the hundredth time how delicious the pie was.

An hour later you’re in the bath, relaxing under the bubbles and teasing Bucky by sending him sexy pictures. ‘Doll, this is so unfair…I know what’s under those bubbles and I want some.’ You giggle, placing your phone safely on the towel next to the tub. Grabbing the plate of pie you brought into the bath you take a bite, savoring every flavor as it swirls over your tongue. You mentally give yourself props, loving how much everyone praised your baking abilities.

Finishing the last bite, your eyes suddenly go wide, and you blurt out, “that’s it!!!” You drop the empty dish to the floor and grab your phone, trying to text Bucky as quickly as possible. “Shit, shit, shit!” you curse at your slippery fingers, wiping them off on the towel. ‘BUCKY! I KNOW HOW TO SAVE THE BOOKSHOP!’ The text goes through and you smile to yourself, excitement coursing through you while you wait for his reply.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hailmary-yramliah @godofplumsandthunder @hawksmagnolia @hiddles-rose @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @throwmyheartawayagain @flyawaybay @amandatar-06 @nd1998sc @captainchrisstan @vherriepie @fire-flv @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @irishflutiegirl @rinthehufflepuff @moonybarnes @nordlysinthewoods​ @inflxmes 

[dearest-bucky]

My dearest darling (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Request -  where reader was a cheerful employee in Stark tower. Something bad happens to reader(reader was taken advantage of sexually on her way home from work) that changes her overnight which Bucky dug deeper to know the reason for the change *if what happened to reader is too dark you may change it.

Words: 6.3K

Warnings: Sexual assault, mentions of rape, angst, death, angst again… sorry this is a tad darker than everything I’ve written before.

A/n: This was requested by @tom-hlover she so kindly shared her idea with me and trusted me to write it, I really hope I did this one justice darling! <3 To everyone else reading this, please mind the warnings and if any of the topics mentioned there bothers you in any way don’t read this one.

Feedback is greatly appreciated! xx

Originally posted: August 26, 2020

The crack of her heels could be heard from across the halls, the signature sound of her arrival at the tower. Each morning, Bucky strained his ears to hear those sounds he had grown attached to over the months she’d been working with them, and each morning, he’d give it about ten minutes before he left his room to walk towards the kitchen where he’d find her fixing three cups of coffee, one for her boss, Tony, one for herself and one for Bucky.

Since they’d ran into each other one morning and she had offered to make him coffee, he had loved it so much it had become a daily thing. At first, when he didn’t know her schedule that well, she’d make him coffee and put a post it note on the mug -Bucky- and he would enter the kitchen and see his name there, drink a sip and know immediately who was it from. That put a smile on his face every time. After a while, Bucky came to the kitchen at the same time as her; they’d sit next to each other for a maximum of five minutes before she had to bring Tony his coffee. Bucky relished those five minutes he’d spend in her company and he’d go about the rest of his day with a silly grin plastered on his face.

To say he was smitten with Tony’s assistant would be a serious understatement and he’d put up every day with the teasing remarks from the rest of the team if it meant he was able to spend time with her. The fact that she worked inside the tower most of the time was really convenient for him, because he got to see her around a lot during the day, especially when Tony was hiding away in his lab inventing God knows what, she’d be more free to spend time with the rest of the team, the metal armed super soldier in particular.

“Good morning Y/n.” He spoke from behind her as he entered the kitchen, finding her pouring coffee in the mugs, just like every other morning.

She turned around to face him with a smile on her lips, she was actually expecting him to show up. “Good morning.” Then wordlessly she offered him one of the mugs, which he took with a small thanks. After one sip he sighed in content, albeit a little exaggeratedly.

“I don’t know how you do it, but this is the most amazing coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

“I could teach you how to do it.” She offered with a shrug as she took a sip from her own coffee.

“No, because then I’d have to do it on my own. I enjoy it like this.” He replied with the same silly grin he adorned on his face whenever he was in her presence. “By the way, I didn’t notice a third cup this morning.”

“Oh, that’s because Tony’s not here yet. He called me just before you showed up, saying he had some personal business to take care of and he won’t be here until the afternoon.” She explained and then added. “That means there’s extra coffee in the pot for you today if you want more.” At that, Bucky’s face lit up like Christmas tree.

“Doll, you’re simply the best.”

Hearing Bucky say those words, made her blush. She felt a wave of warmth bloom on her chest, then spread quickly on her neck and cheeks. He always said words like this to her and they always had the same effect on her. Every time they were together, he’d pay her a compliment that made her face flush and her heart beat a little more quickly than normally, and every time she’d look down trying to conceal her involuntary reaction.

Bucky was one of the few people at the tower, one of the few members of the team who she’d consider a friend and not just someone she worked for. Despite the fact that she technically worked only for Tony, whenever she could, she’d be of assistance for the other Avengers too. She loved working for them, with them. They were all very kind and polite to her, but Bucky was different.

Since the beginning they’d bonded over cups of coffee to open their sleep deprived eyes and eventually they’d become more than just two people who work at the same place, they’d become friends. At first it was only the five minute morning meetings, then they’d seek each other whenever they had some free time during the day, strengthening that friendship more and more everyday.

She loved spending time with him. Bucky was someone she could easily open up to, someone she could rely on, someone she trusted and admired. She admired him for being the nice, kind and funny person he was despite everything he had gone through. She admired him for being able to put the past behind him and make the most of the second chance he’d gotten in life. She admired him for never losing the gentleness of his heart, the softness of his eyes, the sweetness of his smile, and if she were to be one hundred percent honest with herself, she even liked him more than a friend should like another friend.

But she’d never do anything about it. It was wrong for many reasons, reasons she’d gone over in her head many nights when sleep would evade her and she’d lie in her bed wide awake and the thoughts wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Does that mean you’re free all morning?” He asked her as he moved to the coffee pot for a refill.

“Well, not all morning. I still have to arrange Tony’s schedule before he comes back and set the calendar for his meetings, but yeah, I have at least a couple of hours I could spare. Why? Did you have something in mind?”

“Mhmm.” He hummed and nodded his head in response, then, looking a little more sheepish than usually, he spoke again. “I was thinking we could have breakfast together. I’ll cook for you.” He added quickly. “As thanks for the great coffee you’ve made me every day for the past seven months.”

A small smile formed on her face and she nodded her head in return. “I’d really like that.”

Bucky returned her smile, trying to steel his nerves as he set his mug on the counter and moved to the fridge and the cupboards, bringing out several items and placing them on the counter. “So I was thinking, pancakes? Or scrambled eggs and bacon? What are you in the mood for?” He asked, the smile still etched on his lips as he moved around the kitchen.

“Both!” She exclaimed with a small laugh and he looked in her eyes, eager to do anything she wanted.

“Then both it is.”

Bucky cracked the eggs and mixed the batter and fried the bacon and even squeezed fresh oranges, moving around the kitchen easily, while Y/n was sitting on one of the stools, looking at him cook and listening to him talk while he did everything on his own. She offered to help but he replied that he had it under control. And he truly did. In less than an hour they were sitting next to each other, biting into salty and sugary food, mixing them together and claiming “It will all mix up in the stomach anyway”.

They ate and talked and enjoyed each other’s company and after they had finished eating they were still staying in the kitchen, not ready to part yet. Y/n knew she had to get up and get to her work, but she wanted to stay more with Bucky, so she made no move to leave until Steve and Sam entered the kitchen a little after ten am. After greeting them and thanking Bucky for the breakfast she got up from her seat and bid them all goodbye, her eyes lingering on Bucky a second more before she left the kitchen.

Usually she never stayed past five pm at the tower, but on occasional days like this one, where Tony was not around in the morning, she had to stay a little later. It was a little after seven in the evening when she finally left the tower for the day. She couldn’t wait to go home and lie down. Despite not having a very difficult job, chasing after Tony all day really took a toll on her, and on days like this one when she stayed later than her usual time she was a little more tired than usual.

She tightened the scarf around her neck more, trying to protect herself from the cold wind of November. The sky was pitch black and no stars were in sight, but at least the streets of New York were well illuminated and crowded as she made her way to her apartment. She lived four blocks away from the Stark - now Avengers - tower and she always walked the distance, enjoying the streets of the city and the never ending movement of the people that walked up and down the streets at any given time.

She was nearing the block of buildings where her apartment was when she heard movement from behind her. She turned her head slightly to the side, trying to figure who was following her, but the area around was not that illuminated and it was nearly impossible to see who was behind her. She quickened her steps, trying to reach her apartment as soon as possible and she was almost there, letting out a small breath of relief when she saw the entrance of her apartment building, when she felt something grab her hair and yank her with force.

She tried to scream for help, but the person behind her was quick and placed his other hand over her mouth, shushing her effectively. He let go of her hair and grabbed her arms, keeping them secured to her body so she wouldn’t fight and moved her towards the alley behind her apartment. “Sshh…” The unknown attacker whispered in her ear and she panicked as his breath hit her skin. “It’s all going to be less painful for you if you don’t scream.” He then said and Y/n tried so hard to fight and scream but the man behind her was way too strong for her, his grip firm on her body as he started to touch her, moving his hand under her coat, then under the shirt she was wearing.

His touch was making her vomit, and she opened her mouth in his hand and bit hard on his flesh. The assailant yelled in pain and she screamed for help as soon as his hand let go of her mouth. He turned her around to finally face him and her eyes met his for the first time. “You bitch, I thought I told you to not put up a fight.” A strong fist collided with her cheek and she hissed in pain. The man in front of her was tall, too tall for her and had a lean, strong body, one that could easily overpower her.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She whispered in pain as her body trembled in fear. “I’ll give you all the money I have, just please let me go.”

Then man laughed evilly and pushed her backwards, her back touching the wall of the alley, while his one hand covered her mouth and nose again, not allowing her to let out even the smallest sound. “I don’t want your money.” He spoke and his mouth came down to her neck, kissing and licking the skin that he could expose from the scarf.

Y/n started squirming, shuffling her body to get free from him but it proved futile as the man’s grip on her never faltered. His other hand moved to her legs, bunching the woolen skirt she’d worn that day around her waist and ripping the black tights with his fingers. Y/n tried to move around and fight more, she tried to kick him in the crotch but it did nothing. She even tried to bite his hand again, but that didn’t work either, it only angered the man more as he turned her towards the wall and slammed her head against it with force.

She could feel the blood dripping down her forehead and started feeling dizzy as the man moved his hand down her legs again. He pressed her body and her face against the wall and kept her trapped there as she could hear him fumble with the zipper of his own pants. She wanted to scream, she wanted to yell at him, at someone to help, but she felt like she was losing consciousness as the man behind her pushed himself behind her and then she felt him inside.

She was helpless as the man took what he wanted from her and then several minutes later - or it could have been hours later, because that’s how long she felt she’d been trapped between the man and the wall - she heard him tuck himself inside his pants and left her there, on the verge of collapsing.

Her legs failed her and she fell on the cold hard ground with a small thud, crying and shivering. She had no idea for how long she stayed there alone and in the cold or how she managed to get up and walk to her apartment, locking the door behind her and double checking it. Numb legs took her to the bathroom where she got rid of all the dirty clothes she was wearing, then she moved under the shower, letting the scalding hot water run down her entire body. Trembling hands grabbed the loofah and she nearly ripped her skin off with how much she was scrubbing.

Her whole body felt dirty and she felt filthy. She stayed in the shower for a long time, thoroughly washing herself, until she felt the water turn cold. She turned the shower handle off and she grabbed a towel to cover herself with. She couldn’t stand to look at her naked body anymore.

With rushed movements she walked to her bedroom and changed into clean clothes, a pair of warm and fuzzy pajamas and she lied down under the covers, alone and in the darkness. Only when she was laying down in silence, she was finally able to acknowledge what had happened to her. She’d felt so powerless in his grip, so weak and helpless, and then she started crying, loud sobs ripping from her chest. She cried and cried and cried until she passed out from exhaustion.

Morning came just like every other day, night turning day and clock ticking as it normally should, as if nothing had happened. Only Y/n felt herself more sick than last night. Her alarm rang, notifying her she had to get up and get ready for work, but that was the last thing she felt like doing. She only wanted to lay down and probably die. She felt like dying. With weak hands she grabbed her phone and sent a text to Tony, shortly explaining she wouldn’t be going to work today. After that she turned off her phone, not caring for anything in the world anymore, covering her head with the blankets, wanting to forget.

Bucky entered the kitchen just like every other morning, the same time as always. He hadn’t heard Y/n’s heels today but he assumed maybe she wore flats, so just like every other day, he made his way to the kitchen with a stupid grin on his face, too happy to finally be able to see Y/n, too happy to start his day with the sight of her beauty. However as soon as he was in the kitchen he noticed the unusal silence surrounding the area. Y/n was nowhere in sight, neither was the coffee pot that was usually ready by now. He let out a small ‘huh’ as he walked out of the kitchen, heading for Tony’s lab.

“Good morning Stark.” He said as soon as he entered his lab.

“Ah, Barnes. To what do I owe the pleasure of having you in my sanctuary?” Tony spoke in his usual lively tone of voice.

“I was actually looking for Y/n. Didn’t see her in the kitchen like every other day.”

“That’s because she won’t be coming in today. She texted me earlier to let me know she wasn’t coming to work.” Tony explained and turned back to whatever trinket he was working with.

To say that he was surprised wouldn’t begin to truly explain whatever he was feeling after Tony’s words. Y/n never took a day off of work, unless she had other plans that she usually told Bucky about, but her not showing up today was a little weird. He quickly sent her a text asking if she was okay before he went down to the gym for his morning training with Steve.

The entire time he was a little disoriented, but he blamed it on the lack of the dose of caffeine this morning, however something deep inside him told him it was something else. His confusion only grew when more than two hours later he still hadn’t received a reply from Y/n.

It was now almost eight in the evening and he still hadn’t heard anything from her. He tried calling her but it went directly to the voicemail. Maybe she’s busy, maybe her battery died, maybe she has other stuff to take care of. There were a million thoughts that went through his head, but he refused to think negatively. She’d informed Tony she wasn’t going to work, surely she had a good reason not to go, but if she’d been able to text him this morning she had to be fine.

However his thoughts only served to feed his worried heart more as almost a week passed and Y/n never showed up to work. Every day Bucky would ask Tony about her and every day Tony would tell him she’d texted him to inform him she couldn’t make it for the day. Every day his messages and calls would go unanswered as she apparently turned off her phone immediately after she texted Tony.

It was only the next Monday, exactly nine days later, that she finally came back to the tower. Bucky was in the kitchen, drinking the not so tasty coffee Steve had fixed him - he had to settle for Steve’s shitty coffee as long as Y/n wasn’t there - when he finally saw her, walking quietly and with small steps he almost missed her. When he saw her he got up from his seat, a wash of relief overcoming his senses, but it was over too quickly as he saw the look in her face when he spoke to her.

“Y/n, you’re back.” The sound of his voice startled her and she visibly flinched, confusing Bucky even more. “Are you okay?” He asked and moved a step closer to her, only to have her move a step back in reaction. He immediately stopped. She moved her head up to finally look at him. When they eyes met, he could finally see the far away stare that was fixed in her eyes, as if she wasn’t even there. The glint of joy she usually carried in her face was gone, replaced by pale skin and dark circled under her eyes. “What happened?” He asked, concern evident in his voice. She was scaring him. She had never looked this weak, this… Sick.

She only shook her head slightly and moved around him, reaching for the coffee pot to make the coffee. She worked in silence and Bucky could only look at her figure. She looked thinner than a week ago, weaker, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her.

She made the coffee and filled two mugs, picking one up to bring to Tony and leaving the other on the counter for Bucky. Nothing for herself. Then she left the kitchen, wordlessly, quietly, like she hadn’t even been there. The only proof of her existence that morning was the steaming cup of coffee that was resting on the counter.

He didn’t see her for the rest of the day. Then again for the rest of the week. He knew she was coming to work because every morning he’d find a steaming hot cup of coffee waiting for him, but he never saw her there when he entered the kitchen. She was ignoring him, doing her best to never even run into him during the day. He had no idea where she was hiding most of the time, but he never bothered to find her, thinking she just wanted to stay away from him.

The fear in her eyes that first day she came back still haunted him. She’d never been afraid of Bucky before, but that day only the sound of his voice had been enough to startle her.

He missed her. He missed her more than he’d like to admit, but it seemed as if Y/n was determined to avoid him at all cost. He never saw her anymore, not when she arrived at the tower in the morning, not during the day, not even when it was her time to leave the tower. He had no idea if she’d changed her entire schedule only to not run into Bucky anymore, but it still hurt him to not be able to spend time with her anymore.

He had to ask someone about what was going on and who better to ask than Tony. After all, he was her boss, and she would have told him at least something. With a goal set in his mind, he walked to Tony’s lab, expecting to find him there, but what he found, or rather whom, shocked him to his core.

Y/n was sitting on the floor, her legs brought to her chest, she was actually making herself as small as possible. She was crying and pulling at her hair, heavy sobs leaving her throat. As soon as he saw her, he ran to her. “Y/n.” He called her name and crouched down next to her, gripping her wrists to make her let go of her hair. However, that only seemed to make the situation worse because she started to cry more and scream for him to let her go and not touch her. He immediately let go of her, putting his hands up in the air to show her he meant no harm.

She crawled away from him, then got up to her feet to walk away, but as soon as she reached the door of the lab she lost consciousness and collapsed on the floor. Bucky ran to her and gathered her in his arms, moving her around and placing her on the small cot in the lab. His heart was breaking at the sight of her. When he laid her down he noticed small bruises on her wrists and he cursed himself, thinking he did those to her, but then he noticed more peeking from underneath the sleeve of her shirt and he moved it up, uncovering the bruised skin of her arms. There was definitely no way he did those to her, he was sure of that. But somebody else had.

Tony entered the lab and saw Bucky hovering above her, lightly patting her cheek to wake her up. “What happened, Barnes?” He asked, a little alarmed at the sight of Y/n unconscious.

“Oh God, Stark you’re here.” Bucky continued to explain exactly what happened to Tony, from the moment he’d found Y/n having a breakdown on the floor, to the moment she fainted.

“I’m gonna have Friday diagnose her. She hasn’t looked well all week.” As Friday scanned her limp body in silence, Bucky couldn’t help but stare at her pale face. He couldn’t move his eyes away from her even if he tried, lost in her features until the Irish voice of the AI broke him off of his trance.

“It appears that miss Y/n had suffered a lot of panic attacks these last couple of weeks and she has several bruises on her body. She seems to have been violated, sir.” Friday concluded and Bucky and Tony could only stare at each other, shocked at what Friday had said.

They moved her to the med bay and called Bruce to hook her up to an IV and give her some medication. Bucky was sitting on the chair next to her bed when she woke up, panicking when she couldn’t make out her surroundings.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He spoke softly, trying not to startle her and it worked.

“What happened?” She asked in a small voice, a little hoarse from all the screaming before.

“I’m not sure.” Bucky replied, a little unsure. “You were having a breakdown when I found you in the lab, then you passed out.” He explained. She could only nod in understanding and turned her head to the other side, not looking at Bucky anymore. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t bare to look at her so weak, so vulnerable. She’d always been joyful and alive, especially around Bucky. Cautiously, he touched her hand and took it in his, and despite her flinch he didn’t let go, softly cradling her hand in his flesh one and rubbing his thumb on her knuckles. “Y/n, will you tell me what happened?”

She turned her head to him, ready to tell him nothing had happened, too ashamed to tell him the truth, but as soon as her eyes met his she knew he already knew, he had somehow learned the truth, he just wanted her to tell him the entire thing.

She stared up at his face. This was Bucky. The Bucky she’d have coffee every day with, the same Bucky she’d talk for hours on end whenever she wasn’t busy with work, the same Bucky she’d spend hours of sleepless nights texting, the same Bucky who had congratulated and hugged her when she became an aunt, the same Bucky she had helped after one particularly bad mission, the Bucky she called her friend, the Bucky she wanted to be more than friends with. The Bucky she had countless of daydreams about.

Those dreams were over though. She looked at his pure, blue eyes and she couldn’t help but feel like she was dirty herself. She couldn’t tell him what happened, he would never look at her the same after that. But as he sat there next to her, rubbing circles on the back of her hand, patiently waiting for her to find the voice and speak, she did just that.

She couldn’t keep it inside anymore. It had been more than two weeks and she hadn’t talked to anyone about what had happened that night. “It happened that night I left the tower later than usually.” She finally started to speak, despite the tremble in her voice.

Bucky knew immediately about which night she was speaking of.

She explained everything that happened, stopping to wipe the tears from her face every other minute, reliving every moment of that dreadful night in her mind. Bucky could only listen as she spoke, not daring to interrupt her for fear of spooking her more. It seemed like she needed to get what happened out of her chest, so he let her tell everything to him, despite his heart breaking with every word that left her mouth.

By the time she finished speaking, he felt his cheeks wet from the tears. He hadn’t noticed but he had started crying too. He could only hold her hand, not knowing what to really say. He wished he could turn back the time and undo what was done, but he knew that was impossible.

“I’m so sorry.” He said the words between tears and Y/n was surprised by them. She had been expecting him to let go of her hand, to say she was tarnished now, unworthy of kindness in any capacity, but instead he was apologizing to her for something he wasn’t even guilty of. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you, baby.” He spoke again and Y/n’s breath hitched in her throat.

She shook her head slightly, wanting to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but no words left her mouth. “Can I hold you, please?” He asked then and she thought about it for a little before nodding her head hesitantly.

He moved to sit on her bed, his arms wrapping around her torso, holding her in his embrace firmly.

Y/n had thought that being touched by a man again would only remind her of that other man’s touch, but as Bucky held her body close to his, she figured this was the first time in weeks she felt safe. In his arms she felt like she could breathe again after all this time. Her hands fisted his shirt, not letting him go, hiding her face in his chest to inhale his scent, a scent she had related since way before everything happened to safety, to happiness.

As they were staying on the bed hugging each other closely, heavy sobs escaped Y/n’s mouth and she started to cry again. Bucky let her let it all out as she rocked her body softly and after some time she was finally out of tears, only small whimpers of pain left her lips.

He could feel his shirt was wet from her tears but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all as long as she was feeling better.

Eventually she let go of his shirt and tried to shift away from him. Immediately he let go of her and she felt her move her body so her head was resting on his lap. All that crying had taken a toll on her and she was exhausted.

Bucky’s hand moved to her head, playing softly with her hair and soon he felt her breath evening out, almost as if she had fallen asleep. “Please don’t leave me.” She said in a small voice but he heard it either way and he’d be damned if he ever left her side again.

Soon enough she fell asleep and Bucky’s mind was running a million miles per minute as he thought about everything she’d told him before.

Bruce and Tony entered the room they were in, surprised to find them in that position.

“Bruce I need you to give her another sedative. She needs to sleep for the rest of the night and I have some work to do.” Bucky talked low and slow, not wanting to wake Y/n up and Bruce only nodded at his request.

Carefully he maneuvered out from underneath her and placed her head on the plush pillow. He placed a quick peck on her forehead before walking out of the room, Tony following behind him.

“What’s going on?” He asked and Bucky explained him what had happened, not going into details because 1) he didn’t want to share Y/n’s horrible experience with anyone (it was her decision who she talked to about it) and 2) he couldn’t even form the words to say what had really happened even if he tried.

“I’m gonna find that son of a bitch and kill him.” He said finally, a dark look on his features, the Soldier look.

“I’m coming with you.” It was all Tony said before they walked together out of the tower.

Hacking the street cameras, they were able to identify the man that had raped Y/n from the moment he had started to follow her and it was even easier to locate the bastard.

When they found him in his apartment, which was surprisingly in the same block as Y/n’s, Bucky had unceremoniously pulled the trigger and shot him in his crotch. The man had screamed in pain and cursed out loud. Bucky had wanted to make him suffer in pain for as long as possible, but then he thought of Y/n, of the pain she was going through, so he decided that scumbag didn’t deserve even one more inhale of oxygen. So he’d shot him again, this time a bullet piercing his heart and leaving him dead in an instant.

Tony had said nothing as he stood near Bucky the entire time, not even wearing his suit. It wasn’t Iron Man who was taking revenge, it was Tony Stark, and a perverse feeling of contentment filled him when he saw the life leave the body of the scumbag that was now laying dead before their feet.

When they returned to the tower, Y/n was still asleep, so Bucky decided to take a shower and change before he went back to her.

The streaks of sun entered the room from the half closed blinds, falling directly to Bucky’s eye and effectively waking him up. He picked his head up to look at Y/n, looking at her already awake, staring at him in silence. She looked a little better today, calmer even.

“Good morning.” He said sleepily and she greeted him in return. “Are you okay?” He asked then and she only nodded her head affirmatively. He gave her a small smile and moved his hand to touch her cheek, but she flinched away from his touch.

“I’m sorry.” He was quick to apologize, not at all offended by her reaction. It was natural, she needed time, too much time to heal, and Bucky was willing to do whatever in his power to help.

She shook her head, wordlessly telling him he had nothing to be sorry for, and slowly reached her hand out to grab his, intertwining their fingers together. Bucky looked down at their joined hands and smiled. He would wait his entire life for her to heal, to be ready for his touch and he was more than happy with just holding his hand.

“I understand if you think I’m sullied now, because I am. And I get it if you don’t want to be my friend anym-” she started speaking but Bucky interrupted her.

“Hey, none of that, please. You’re not sullied. You’re still Y/n. You’re the same person you were two weeks ago, the same lovely woman I’ve known for months, the same woman I’ve grown to…” He stopped himself from speaking more, not because what he was about to say was untrue, but because he didn’t want to overwhelm her, not now that she was so vulnerable. But she had her teary eyes fixed on him, waiting for him to continue speaking, silently urging him to finish what he started, so he resumed again after a deep breath.

“Y/n, I know this is probably the worst time for me to tell you this, but I really like you. I have liked you for quite sometime and I still do, I still will, no matter what. I didn’t want to say anything because of this situation now, but I figured I should be honest with you.” He confessed almost breathlessly and she only kept staring at him in disbelief.

“You can’t like me anymore.” She then spoke, voice trembling and tears falling freely from her eyes. “I’m broken Bucky.”

He wiped her tears from her face gently and then softly cupped her cheeks. “You’re not broken. You’re just a little wounded now, and that’s understandable. But you’re not broken. You’re you. I told you. Nothing has changed for me. I still have feelings for you and I will wait as long as you want me to, if you decide you can ever give me a chance.” He held her face firmly but gently in between his hands and Y/n couldn’t tear her eyes from his, tears spilling freely at his words.

She nodded her head slowly, than without even a word she moved to hug him closely to her. Bucky welcomed her in his arms and held her there for a long time. He could feel her heart beating, so close to his and he could feel her soft breath tickling the skin of his neck where she was hiding her face.

“I wanna go back to sleep. I hadn’t been able to sleep for days before last night.” She confessed and Bucky moved to release his grip from her body, to allow her to lay down, but she didn’t let him go too far. “Will you lay down with me?” She asked and he nodded his head, because of course he would lay down with her. He would do anything for her.

He laid down beside her and she was quick to curl her body next to his, her head resting on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, allowing his heartbeat to calm her more. Bucky wrapped his arms around her shoulders, one of his hands moving up and down her back in soothing motions, and the other, the metal one, playing softly with her hair, lulling her back to sleep.

A moment later he began singing words of a song she had never heard of before, softly whispering the words close to her ear.

… Nothing in this world Can keep us apart Oh my dearest darling I offer you my heart …

She knew she had a long way before her, a long way before she could go back to some kind of normalcy, before she’d go back to the person she was before, or maybe just at least try to, but she knew that with Bucky by her side she’d be alright. She was half asleep when he sang the next words of the song, making her heart soar in her chest.

Whenever you need me I’ll be there by your side Oh, I pledge my love to you With God as our guide…

[3pirouette]

Fic: Iterate (1/1)

Title: Iterate By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: Up through Endgame. Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 2953 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Summary: Steve lived through the 21st century twice, the second time hurt much more than the first.

A/N: I literally made myself cry today on the way to work while I was working this out in my head. It was SUPPOSED to be FLUFFY. I’m not exactly why I decided on this format, all I know is that it felt right. I hope you enjoy. Steggy is just mentioned, more Steve-centric. 

It was supposed to be a stupid, fluffy story about Old Steve living with his granddaughter and being a LITTLE SHIT to her all the time because he’s 100% comfortable with modern things and it drives her nuts. I’m sorry.

Also, please pay attention to vague time stamps. Certain details are changed for impact. Hence, AU (Even though I FULLY BELIEVE that once the stones are placed back there is only ONE main timeline where Steve lived, was Peggy’s husband, and that’s how he showed up at the end of Endgame. Fight me.)

AND I’M SORRY.

~*~ October 2023

He supposed he’d always been waiting for this day. Steve knew he’d be around for it, one way or another. At least, he’d always assumed that, though he’d thought he’d experience it in a very, very different way.

He didn’t know the exact time, just a vague recollection that it was early afternoon, that there had been sunlight they’d blocked out with the blast shields, that they’d tried to eat lunch but they were all too nervous.

Funny. Same thing happened to him today. He couldn’t manage to get anything to slide down past the lump in his throat, couldn’t fill his stomach to calm the butterflies. He tried coffee first. It was warm and robust but had no effect.

He pulled out the tin from the back of the cabinet and made a cup of tea from one of the few remaining bags there. He sipped it and imagined Peggy sitting across from him, telling him off for using old tea that would be bitter and teasing him for how much sugar he put in it.

He drank a beer and wished to god that he had just one flask of whatever it was Thor used to carry around. He needed something to calm his nerves.

He caught his reflection in the window over the sink. For just the briefest second he saw his young self, so broken by so much, not knowing that today would be the day he’d be put to his greatest test. But the sun shifted and he could see every wrinkle in the refection, every grey hair, the haziness to his eyes that the doctor said was the beginning of cataracts.

A lifetime ago this day had changed everything for him without him knowing. Today, he was just as eager for the moment when Banner would put on that glove, this time for very different reasons.

~*~

In the end, Steve Rogers managed to live a fairly normal life.

Once back with Peggy, he kept away from the spotlight. Unsure if he’d created a parallel timeline or if he was living in his own, he did his best to avoid changing things.

Because even when he wanted to change things, he realized very quickly, he couldn’t.

He became enamored with sci-fi and fantasy that included time travel, with physicists who wrote books on the subject. He wanted to understand it, to know the unknowable.

He eventually decided that he was prescribing to the Doctor Who Theory of time travel: that it was all very, very complicated but that some things, no matter what, had to just happen in their own time and some things were simply fixed and would always happen the way they were supposed to. He’d seen this first with Zola- as he’d tried to get the man and his influence away from SHIELD they only dug their heels in deeper and kept him. It was later reaffirmed when, despite every effort, The Winter Soldier escaped him and Howard and Maria were left for dead in their car, young Tony devistated.

After that day, he stopped trying so hard to avoid squishing butterflies and focused instead on enjoying what he had.

What he had was, after all, quite a lot: A wife, two young boys, and a second chance at the life he’d missed while fighting other men’s wars.

~*~

Despite knowing all that laid ahead for him and his friends in the future that was now his past and yet somehow once again his future, Steve eventually started longing for the new millennium as decades past him by. He missed the technology, the ability to have whatever kind of entertainment he waited at the tips of his fingers. Though he’d known a good portion of what would happen from history books, once he’d gone back, he’d lived an entire lifetime full of surprises, experiencing things like the moon landing and the Vietnam war first hand. But now, as he grew older and he knew his days with Peggy were numbered, he longed for the small comforts of familiarity, for e-mails and smartphones and heated steering wheels on cars that parked themselves.

As the 2000’s arrived, he felt himself get more and more comfortable with the things around him: the news, the events he’d already experienced once and would again in a different way. It felt good to feel at least on solid ground with the world around him, knowing what was to come for him.

His home was lonely after Peggy was gone, and he made his only granddaughter an offer she couldn’t refuse: free room and board if she helped him keep up the house. An elementary school art teacher, Maggie was happy to step in for a little financial relief as she tried to navigate the churlish economy.

If he never told her that he was perfectly capable of taking care of the house by himself, it didn’t quite matter. The company was more than enough. And if when she smiled she looked just a little like her namesake and it warmed his heart… well, that wasn’t a bad thing, either.

The best part, he’d found though, was that it was hilariously funny to drive his granddaughter crazy. He’d lived through the early decades of the 21st century as a young man. He’d learned how to navigate the internet, interface with the most complicated technology there was to offer, and listened to music that wouldn’t be written for years to come. He loved watching her face as he sang along to Billie Eilish on the radio or realize that she didn’t have to explain to him how to use an iPad or Facetime.

~*~

She yelled at him the first snowfall. Skidded her car (all-wheel drive, thank goodness he’d convinced her to get the newest model) into the freshly shoveled driveway and tore out of the driver’s seat, yelling at him a mile a minute.

They’ll think I’m some kind of self-centered princess letting a centenarian shovel this and try to kill himself!  She’d yelled, trying to take the shovel from his hands.

He was still stronger than he should be, and held his ground. I don’t want you hurting yourself on this stuff.

Me? She’s screeched, and he’d laughed. He couldn’t help but smile and find her concern at least a little comical. Deep down he understood, knew that he should be trying to sell his age a little more, be trying to hide that he was still strong and fast and in better shape than some of his middle-aged neighbors.

As much as he’d like to push her off, tell her to go inside, he couldn’t. She wasn’t a self-centered princess, but she was his princess, and he bent to her whim like a branch in the wind. He’d kissed her on the head and finally handed her the shovel, leaving her the last bit of the path to her to clean up, and promised to take better care of himself.

She didn’t know that when she left for work, he still went down the basement and bench pressed 225 on an easy day.

~*~

She teased him about his record collection. Even though records had come back in style, she still thought it was silly to have a whole wall dedicated to them when she could access nearly all of musical history on her cell phone. He showed her his own digital playlists and popped in his airpods when he was reading sometimes, but he loved the sound the needle made when it hit the wax.

One night, when he couldn’t listen to her teasing anymore, no matter how good natured it was, he played dirty.

You know, there’s a new song coming out by one of those artists you like. WAP? Heard it’s a cover of a song your Nana and I used to dance to all the time.

Two weeks later, he heard the familiar opening bass to the song Barton had played incessantly in the gym while he was working out and had quoted for months, the song that he hadn’t been able to get away from even in the past with random phrases like macaroni in a pot popping into his head at the most inconvenient times.

Barely half a verse in she’d either shut it off or turned the music way lower. At dinner she couldn’t look at him.

That was not at cover, Pop Pop. And I don’t want to think about you and Nana like that… ever.

~*~

She cried when she came home, a year after Peggy’s death, to see Peggy’s beautiful vanity had been moved into her room, Peggy’s jewelry box on it front and center.

What did you do? She’d kept asking him, tears in her eyes.

She’d want you to have it. He knew it was the truth. He hugged her tight as she sniffed and knew he’d made the right decision. He remembered Peggy sitting with Maggie on her knee on the small stool, letting the girl paw through her necklaces and play with her big fluffy make-up brushes. Maggie reaching for her eyeshadow and Peggy deftly pulling it away. Peggy being just a little too slow with the lipstick and the toddler bouncing around the house, proudly showing off the circle on the bottom half of her face to anyone who would look at her.

They’d loved their boys, but Maggie had both of their hearts in a way they hadn’t been prepared for.

Steve had to make up and excuse to leave the house the next morning when Maggie came down to breakfast, wearing the single pearl drop necklace he’d gotten for Peggy on their 25th wedding anniversary and her signature red lipstick. It was a good pain, but the first time he saw her in her grandmother’s necklaces, it was pain none the less.

~*~ Spring 2018

He knew the date it was supposed to happen. He’d kept up enough to know that it would, too. His other self was out there, somewhere, fighting what would become the biggest battle of his life.

Steve decided to focus on the small things. He kept the house stocked up with food and drinks, nonperishables that would last months and even years, toilet paper and paper towels. He ordered big metal shelves for the basement and made sure there was enough for multiple people for the long haul.

He didn’t know what would happen to his family in the snap- who would make it and who wouldn’t, but he was going to be sure whoever survived would be set for the following months where there was chaos, food and water shortages, and fear.

It would be a long five years for anyone that was left.

Even though she was home most nights, he asked Maggie for a standing Thursday night date. Some nights he showed her how to keep the house up: where the water main was, how to shut it on and off, where the gas line was, what to do if the roof started leaking. He made notebooks full of lists of things to do, how-to’s for the house and for life, and even, when he was awake in the middle of the night, wrote her letters so she wouldn’t be lonely.

Somehow, he just knew it would be him this time. He had survived the first snap, but if there were two of him and one survived, the other, statistically, did not. Thanos was very clear on how half worked.

Maggie, at first, had been scared. His family knew he had a knack for predicting the future, but didn’t know quite why.

Are you dying? Maggie had asked, fearing the worst when she started to realize that their Thursday night take-out and movie date was about more than just spending time together.

No, he’d said so very often, I just want you to be ready for anything.

Despite all of her questions, she went along with it.

When the day came, he couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of his eyes. Couldn’t quite smile at her. They ate pizza in front of the TV, watching a comedy Maggie had picked. He kept his eyes on his watch. It was coming.

His fingers itched. Like he could already feel his cells pulling apart.

He reached out, taking her hand in his and covering it with is other hand. “Maggie, you know I love you, right?”

She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She’d sensed his anxiety all day. “Of course, I do. And I love you, Pop Pop.”

He looked away and then back at her. “I promise you, whatever happens, I’m alright, and I’ll be back.”

“Pop Pop,” her eyes filled with tears, “What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, “I’ve left you everything you’ll need, and I promise I’ll be back.”

A tear fell from her eye as she squeezed his hand tighter. “But where…”

It was as if the world went silent as it started to happen. Though the television droned on in the background, he could swear the air was stiller. He started to see the dust fill the air and tried not to breathe.

But it was wrong.

It wasn’t him.

Her hand was falling to nothing in his, the fear in her eyes haunting as the skin of her cheeks flecked into the air, swirling before falling along with the rest of her into a pile on the couch.

It was so fast. So fast.

And it wasn’t him.

“No…” The word fell from his lips as a whisper, sobs starting to form in his throat.

~*~

He wondered, nearly every night for five years, if Thanos knew. If it had somehow been a conscious choice to keep him alive, to make him suffer just a little more. To make him watch his other self on television trying to promote healing.

Sometimes, he realized that this was a blessing. His sons and granddaughter were safe while they were snapped, protected by the fabric of the universe. Bucky had told him that he didn’t remember anything from being snapped, didn’t feel any different when he woke up than if he’d taken a long, heavy nap.

Somewhere, his family was taking the universe’s longest nap without him.

But they’d be spared these memories. They’d be spared lonely nights of missing loved ones and too little to eat while the world sorted out the jobs that were suddenly empty to keep things running for those that were left behind.

They’d be spared the fear of the gangs that started roaming the streets of half abandoned cities, looting for food and clothes in stores that had never officially closed but also couldn’t open with their owners simply gone.

They’d be spared the rolling blackouts and the contaminated water scares.

They’d be spared the fear of the country as the government suddenly found itself missing elected officials and the infighting and the rhetoric that came with martial law and hasty elections.  

They’d be spared so, so much pain and loss.

Every day, he relived it all, twice over.

He counted every day for five years, making his way through each week and month motivated by only one thought: they were coming back. He needed to be ready for them, for her.

He helped his daughter in law keep their house, managed his other son’s apartment in DC and kept his things ready and waiting, made sure Maggie’s things were safe and in working order, made sure her bank account stayed open and her phone bill was paid. He’d never, not once, considered he’d be the one left behind, and the logistics of all there was to do left him busy for the first few weeks.

Everyone told him his hope that the dusted would return was infectious, but after the first year, people stopped listening. He knew, for a fact, they’d come back, but everyone else didn’t. Even the past him was operating on the idea that they’d never be back.

Some days he didn’t make it out of bed. He laid there, talking to the ceiling, whispering to Peggy, wishing she could talk back, wishing she could be one of the ones brought back. He missed her with a ferocity that hadn’t changed since the first time he’d been in this time, but had only been tempered and strengthened by a lifetime together.

As the days drew closer to the five-year mark, he began to make arrangements.

~*~ October 2023

He cleaned the living room and set it to the way it had been that night. He pulled out every note and letter he’d written Maggie and his children and put them in the kitchen, ready and waiting.

He sat on the couch, facing the blank television, a new, piping hot, pepperoni pizza sitting in front of him, untouched.

He still couldn’t eat.

He still didn’t know if this was the right timeline. As he’d gotten closer to this day his faith had wavered. What if all he’d come to believe wasn’t true? What if this wasn’t the one fourteen million? He wanted to believe, but he didn’t know for sure.

He looked at his watch, watching as the seconds ticked by. What were a few seconds to him? He’d lived more than one lifetime, and that had been enough. He had barely made it through these five years the first time. The second time had almost truly broken him. He was ready for this to be over. He was ready to stop having to deal with loss and to be able to live whatever time he had left with the family he loved.

He held out his hand, and waited.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Can I request Hawks and reader? Reader's ex boyfriend comes back and wants to start dating, but the reader can't stand the thought to go back to him. So, the reader hires Hawks to be pretend her boyfriend. They go out a couple times, until ex gets a message. Problem is... the reader falls in love with her fake boyfriend. XD Thank you~~

Hero For Hire

He showed up at your work of all places to ask for you to take him back. The fire on your face was more than enough to excuse yourself and take this Ex outside.

“Please? I miss you. I wont do it again”

“No! Just leave me alone! Why would i go back to you? You are a awful person”

“Baby cmon . You dont mean that.”

“Leave or ill make you leave.”

The anger on his face sent a chill down your back but you stood your ground. Never again. He did leave though, muttering under his breath. You sighed leaning on the building collecting yourself. This needs to stop. You went back inside and apologized to your boss before returning to work.

As soon as you clocked out you went home to search the internet for a solution. You stumbled upon a Hero for Hire link and clicked it.

‘Tired of a clingy ex? Need to get rid of them? Hire me! Ill pretend to be your boyfriend so they get lost!’ You rolled your eyes at this website , thats too good to be true .. but .. whats the hurt in it? You sent a email and went to bed.

Hawks phone lit up and he looked at it landing on a roof to read it.

‘If this is real i have a ex problem , he wont leave me alone i need to shake him off . Heres my number and address. I dont care what Hero you guys send me , i just want this dude to leave me alone.’

His wings fluttered while he looked at the starry sky.

••••

You woke up to a few texts from your ex and a email from the website.

‘Of course we are real. Sounds like a real problem. Just let me know where i can meet you and what time .’

You rubbed your eyes reading it a few times before replying with your work information. With a yawn you got ready for work , thinking about what hero you would get.

Your work was ex free in the morning thankfully since you did not have the energy to deal with him. It didint help that it was a clothes store you worked at , he always lingered around. But by the 4th hour of work sure enough he came in to ‘look at clothes’ . You shook your head leaning on the counter watching the door. Waiting for a Pro to step though.

Your ex dropped some clothes on the counter making your gaze travel to him in a glaring way. He tried to talk to you while you rang up the clothes.

“So i think i know where we went wrong y/n”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes i got angry to easy.”

You rolled your eyes shoving the clothes in the bag pushing it to him. “Ok have a nice day.”

“Y/n..”

“Have a nice day”

“No. I need to talk to you. And your gonna listen.”

“Is she now? Thats no way to talk to my lovely dove.”

You both looked up and you fell onto the desk. It was Hawks. God damn Hawks. That website was real. Hoo.lee.fuck . He strolled over going behind the desk to pull you to him kissing your cheek. “Hi little dove. Can you take your lunch?” Your ex clicked his teeth stomping off but not before looking back making a fist.

You didint know what to say , apparently your boss did not care that he was behind the counter either. You looked at him and he agreed to you taking your lunch now , laughing a bit and waving his hand to hurry you out.

Hawks brought you to the next door cafe ordering you a coffee and sitting at a table . He sipped his coco and placed a paper in front of you. “First, wanna apologize for kissing without permission. Ill knock off 10 bucks for that. Just seemed like the right thing to do.”

You gripped the hot coffee reading the paper as best you could, eyes jumping all over it for key words.

‘Hero For Hire.

-your email-

1 week of services. $50

2-3 weeks of services. $100

1 month or longer of services . $200 , starting.

Restrictions.

No children. I am not here to give you kids.

What i will do.

Make your boyfriend jealous till hes a crying mess ;)

Shower you with the love you deserve ^#^

Take you shopping ! Yay clothes!

Take you on dates !!! Food yay!

Will i have sex with you?

I will not! Im not a prostitute silly!!!

What happens if one of us falls in love?

I need to know as soon as you realize so i can re calcualte my services and think about what to do. If i fall in love then lucky you! My services are free since ill be with you forever! Yay! ‘

You looked up and Hawks with a raised eyebrow. He was sipping his coffee looking smug as fuck. “Made it myself.” Gloated the Hero. You rolled your eyes at him .

“I think a week should be enough. Dont worry about the kiss i think it really pissed him off so thats good for me.”

He set his coffee down handing you a pen from his coat to sign the paper. “Great! Lets get to work, little Dove.”

•••••••••

And to work he did. Hawks hung around your job every single day , if he wasint sitting on the roof eating he was in the store holding up clothes for you to see and ask you to try on.

“Hawks im working”

“Y/n boss can she try this on?”

“Oh goodness of course!”

Eye roll but this time with a giggle.

Your ex stopped showing up too but that didint mean he didint follow you around on your dates with the Pro. He brought you to the movies, introduced you to other Pros, treated you to dinner. It was all really nice, you had never been treated this way and... it made your stomach get butterflies .

Not once did your ex approach you, not with Hawks holding you so close to him or holding your hand. He gave you little cheek kisses and picked you up in his arms taking off into the sky to really lose the damn guy.

On the 6th day your ex had pretty much got the picture abd left you alone . You were so relieved you invited Hawks to your home to treat him to dinner which he agreed to hapily . You asked him if you could cuddle him and he picked you up sitting on the couch with you holding his food for him.

He told you all about his side job and how fun it was ,but the love made it complicated, he had to break alotta hearts. You laid your head on his chest thinking about it , and if you should tell him or not.

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Part 5

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Angst angst angst, anxiety, fluff, language.

Word count: Approx 2700

Thank you to @whatsupbucky for the ideas for angst! 

Masterlist

Oof okay, Bucky is struggling with his self sabotage and negative thoughts. I’m just gonna leave this here... 

Happy Sunday everyone 😅

Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LISTS ARE OPEN! (Permanent and His Second Chance lists)

_____________________________

Okay come on Barnes, she asked you to try. Is it so hard to just try? Bucky fiddled with the washing machine as you pottered about behind him. How do you… Okay, this button and then turn that thing to… Nope, I’m confused. Very confused. Bucky stood, towering over the washing machine, huffing and puffing as he panicked about which buttons to press and what all of those confusing and terribly non descriptive symbols meant. Come on, you have done far more complicated things than working out a washing machine. 

“Remember it’s the symbol that looks like waves.” You called over your shoulder as you dug through the washing pile, butt sticking out. Why did you have a habit of sticking your butt out? Didn’t matter, Bucky wasn’t about to complain. Symbol that looks like… Waves. There were easily three symbols that could be interpreted like that. Was it, this one? Bucky twisted the dial, causing the machine to beep loudly. “Ooh.” Bucky retracted his hand from the machine. Nope, nope, nope. “Oh, no, it’s this one, silly.” You said so casually, twisting the dial for him to the correct setting. “And press the green button.” You pointed at it, causing Bucky to nod. This was much harder than he’d expected it to be. It was just washing.

 “Are you okay?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you not so delicately rammed your pile of washing into an adjacent machine, probably with more force than needed. “Bucky?” You stepped towards him a little. “How was your day?” Bucky blurted out, turning back to the washer quickly and jabbing the green button. The washer gurgled and buzzed as it started up, startling Bucky a little as he stepped back.  “Uh, well it’s only ten in the morning, so good so far. I baked some muffins after my session with Stevie.” You smiled; Bucky had never asked you how your day was. Hmm Muffins, chocolate chip I hope. “You can try one when we get back upstairs if you like.” You bounced on the balls of your feet.

 “How is your morning going?” You asked, paying little attention to how confused and freaked out Bucky was by the noises the washing machine made. “Uh, it’s okay.” Bucky nodded, following you out of the room. “Did you do anything?” You asked as you both walked down the corridor to the elevator. “No.” Bucky shook his head. “Nothing at all? You know you can relax and do things you’d like to do, right?” You smiled up at him. I wish I could. Bucky looked down at you and immediately looked away. “Maybe we should cook together, I can show you how to…” Your voice became muffled in Bucky’s ears. He wanted to spend time with you, but it felt so overwhelming. “Sure.” Bucky nodded. No, what are you doing Barnes? “Perfect! We should make some brownies or something and then we can hang out together while they bake and have lunch together afterwards.” You beamed as you bounced into the elevator, waiting for Bucky to join you before pressing the button for your shared floor. “Sounds good.” Bucky nodded. No. No it does not, it’s too goddamn much.

 Oh this feels weird. Bucky Barnes, a domestic man… No, that would never happen in a million years. This wasn’t right, it was too normal, it felt uncomfortable. Bucky stood in the middle of the kitchen, trailing behind you and ‘helping’ by taking things you were handing him and putting them on the counter. The big, burly soldier, who was effectively a very tall wall of muscle was wearing your bright yellow apron, it was too small for him, but you had just about managed to get the string to reach around the back. “Can you weigh three hundred grams of this please?” You ask, plopping a bag of flour into his hands. “Mhm.” Bucky nodded. Simple right?

No. Not simple.

Bucky poured the flour into a bowl on the scales a bit too fast, causing white dust to cloud everywhere. Bucky opened his eyes, he felt strange, but his heart melted a little when you started giggling. You were also covered in a puff of flour, although judging by your reaction, Bucky had it much worse than you did. “It’s all in your beard!” You laughed, grabbing a tea towel and reaching up. Bucky had to stop himself from catching your wrist with his hand to stop you from touching him, but he took a deep breath and let you brush the towel gently over his beard. Oh how he wished it was your bare fingers running through his beard, scratching and rubbing. He wasn’t ready for it though, but he ached for it, ached for your touch, even though he knew it might hurt.

 Bucky accidentally and involuntarily hummed at the feeling of you wiping his beard for him and you grinned up at him. Mm, that felt nice. God that gorgeous smile, it was enough to get him to do anything you asked him to do. He just couldn’t refuse you. “There, perhaps be more gentle with the ingredients.” You giggled, putting the towel back on the front of the oven handle.

 “Can we just have coffee. And uh- and talk?” Bucky asked as you slid the baking tray into the oven. You glanced over your shoulder at him, a small, shy smile on your lips as you nodded. “What do you want to talk about?” You ask, closing the oven and setting the timer. “You.” Bucky blurted out. “Well, I-.” He stumbled over his words. “Want to get to know you more.” Bucky managed to finish properly. Good, okay progress, gotta stop cutting yourself off when it gets too much. You grinned at him and nodded before padding over to the coffee machine to prepare a cup each. “What do you want to know? Hit me with your questions.” You threw him a smile over your shoulder as you loaded a coffee pod into the machine. “Not literally, I hope.” You added, giggling to yourself. Okay, what do you ask her? I didn’t think this far.

 Bucky obviously paused to think for too long, so you just started talking about yourself to him, which Bucky actually appreciated, glad that he didn’t actually have to think of any starting questions. “Well, I’m from New York, I had a pretty horrible home life growing up. I don’t really have a biological family, but I definitely consider the Avengers as my family more than anything. I’m a complete nerd, I like videogames, movies, oh and comic books.” You listed off a few things. Wonder what you meant by a horrible home life, don’t ask, she probably doesn’t want you to ask. I wonder if that was why you were so anxious. “I also really like jumpers and soft socks, baking, eating too much chocolate, I also don’t like my morning sessions with Steve but that’s a secret and I’m trusting that you won’t tell him.” You winked at him, a little giggle passing your lips. Oof that cute little wink. “You can count on me.” Bucky smirked at you. Oh god, you felt like you had died and gone to heaven, that smirk almost killed you.

 Sam burst into the kitchen “(Y/n)! Steve said you made muffins!” He practically barrelled into you, trying to reach around you for the rack on the counter where the muffins stood but you stopped him with your hands pressed firmly on his chest. Bucky wanted your hands on his chest, those delicate sweet hands. “Nah, ah, not for you Wilson.” You scolded, a finger poking out at him. Bucky had to stifle a chuckle at the way you scolded him. “Well who are they for?” Sam whined. “Not for you.” You maintained eye contact with him. “They’re for Bucky alright!” You caved. “Ooooh, look at you baking for Buckaroo.” Sam teased. “I made him muffins because you always get some and god knows how long it’s been since Bucky’s had a muffin or if he’s ever even had one!” You exclaimed, pushing Sam by the chest. Sam looked at you with big round eyes. “Pleeaase can I have one?” Sam begged. “You can have one.” You pointed sternly at him. “But you have to let me pick because I want Bucky to have the prettiest one, okay?” You frowned, crossing your arms. Why were you so cute? You had made muffins… Just for me, Christ what a lucky guy. “Here, now if you’ll excuse me, I was having a very nice conversation with Bucky.” You waved him away, Sam giving you a big cheesy grin as he backed away with his muffin.

 You pulled your mug from the coffee machine and spooning a bit of sugar into your drink. “Here, I think this is the prettiest one.” You grin up at him as you slide a muffin across the counter to him. Not as pretty as you. God that was cheesy. I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud. Bucky scooped the muffin up, almost forgetting to peel the paper case off the base of it before taking a ridiculously large bite of the cake. Bucky let out a deep guttural moan, it was almost… Sexual. You blushed at the sound he made, watching as his eyes rolled in bliss. “So good.” Bucky spoke around the cake, voice muffled by the fluffy chocolate muffin. If you were going to get a reaction like that every time he tried something you baked, you would make him something every goddamn day.

  So. Good. She’s too good for you, she’s too good to you. She doesn’t see the monster in you, that’s bad, you could hurt her. She’s too good to be hurt by someone like you.

Bucky stuffed down the rest of his muffin as his thoughts plagued him. You’re totally in love with her, if you just keep trying, things will get better.

No, things will get worse, she’ll start to see what a fucking monster you are, she’ll get scared. Bucky glanced across at you as you hummed the same rock song you always had stuck in your head whilst you sipped on your coffee.

Look at how pure and perfect she is and look at yourself, you’ll never be able to have that, you’ll never be able to have her. She’s too good and you’re not good enough.

Maybe the voice was right. Bucky’s positive thoughts were slowly drowning in the sea of negativity. You were going to hate him for sure, you’d see the monster he is and it would scare you, hurt you, drive you away. Bucky couldn’t live with himself if that ever happened. He needed to keep you safe, even if that hurt him to do it.

 “Bucky, you have,” You paused, grabbing the tea towel again as you approached him. “Some flour on your beard still.” You smiled sweetly up at him as you neared his side. Your hand instinctively landed on his left pec, just below the metal and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. Stop, stop it. Please don’t do that. Bucky fought the urge to yank himself away from you so hard as you slowly reached up with the towel. Bucky swallowed thickly as he watched your fingers curl around the towel, your eyes locked on his. The towel brushed over his beard and Bucky instantly relaxed at the feeling, his tense muscles loosening under your feather light touch. A little content sigh passed through his lips as he shut his eyes. “Do you like it when I touch you, Bucky?” You asked so innocently, a sweet little smile on your lips as you slowly replaced the towel with your bare fingers, the feeling of you brushing your fingertips over the hair there was heavenly for Bucky. You’re not allowed to like it, it’s not supposed to feel good, say no. “No.” he said gruffly. Are you kidding? That’s a straight up lie. Stop listening to that dumb voice and say yes. “Yes.” You looked at him thoroughly confused. You retracted your hand in confusion, did he want you to touch him? You weren’t sure anymore.

 Nooo please come back. “Bucky.” You murmured. You were so close. So close. Your little hand on his pec, other hand hovering over his beard. “You confuse me.” You whispered. Bucky had to stifle a chuckle. It wasn’t funny, it shouldn’t be funny. “I confuse me too.” Bucky sighed, eyes not leaving yours as you stared up at him. You wondered what he could be thinking, he looked so void of emotion, so empty, you wondered what was going on in his head.

 I wonder what it feels like to kiss someone again. Bucky maintained an inside smile as he looked down at you. Don’t be stupid, she wouldn’t want to kiss a monster like you. Bucky growled at his negative thought. You looked a little surprised as you stepped back at his growl. You pulled your hands away, thinking the growl was aimed at you. See you scare her, you idiot. Bucky frowned, brows knitted together tightly, eyes locked on you, but really his vision wasn’t focussed and he’d zoned out. She’d understand, give it a chance, give this life a chance. Bucky’s chest vibrated with a low growl. You backed off so much that you bumped into the kitchen counter behind you. There’s no way that can ever happen, she’ll realise how much of a monster you are, you’ll never be with her, she could never love you. The negative voice started to drown out the positive and Bucky’s growl turned into a gruff, angry outburst.

 “Stop! Stop it! Fuckin’ had enough. This is fucking impossible!” Bucky raised his voice, much higher than he’d meant to, startling you as you slunk to the back of the kitchen away from him. Bucky’s towering figure, a wall of muscle, voice loud and angry was absolutely terrifying and you had hoped you’d never have to see him like this, but you knew it was inevitable, but you unfortunately were on the receiving end of it. “Bucky?” You asked just above a whisper. She’s scared of you, look at what you did! Bucky growled again, low and angry, eyes darkening in rage at himself, at the voice in his head doubting him. Without warning, Bucky’s metal hand balled into a fist, the plates shifting a whirring as he raised his arm. “Shut up!” Bucky shouted, slamming his metal fist down onto the island counter, crumbling the stone work surface like it was a block of chalk. You screamed, the act sending your anxiety over the edge and you started to breath fast and shallow, panic consuming you.

  The commotion attracted Sam, the soldier running into the room from hearing the loud bang and your panicked scream. As soon as Sam entered, Bucky bolted, leaving you heaving for breath. “What the he-.” Sam looked at the mess, the island was crushed on one side, a huge hole in the top, one of the corners had been blown off, stone dust covering the floor and remnants floating in the air. You cowered at the back of the kitchen, the oven timer going off but it a was a dull buzz to you. 

Sam quickly turned the oven off, along with the timer and then rushed to your side, scooping up your uncooperative body into his arms. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t focus on anything properly. You had no idea who was holding you, you had no idea what they were saying, it was all muffled and confusing. The only thing you could focus on was the way Bucky had looked at you, the way he’d shouted and broken the island counter, the way his stare and gone cold and dark, his tone had been deep and terrifying.

 What is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with you?! “Bucky!” Steve’s voice echoed through the corridor as Bucky slunk away. “Buck, wait!” Steve called after him. Steve’s heart breaking as he watched Bucky shrink into his bedroom and hearing your little hiccupping cries from the other room.

“This is bad.” Steve sighed as he stood, forlorn in the hallway. “This is really bad.” He muttered to himself.

______________________________

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[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Morning After

Just a little silly AU fic that was crowding my brain. (A tiny trigger warning, there is a spiked drink in this but no assaults/attempted assaults.) Rhett and Link are working as engineers and have only met six months ago.

--- 

Link’s eyes flutter open and he stares at the blurry image of a slowly turning ceiling fan for a good long while before realizing that he doesn’t actually have a ceiling fan in his bedroom.

Where am I?

He attempts to get up and is immediately slammed back into the pillow by a wave of nausea and a piercing headache. His eyes close tight and he takes a few deep breaths.

Okay. That’s a clue if I ever felt one. Obviously, I’ve been drinking.

The bed is soft and the sheets are silky smooth; everything feels foreign. Link stretches his arms to his sides and doesn’t even reach the edges of the bed. Aside from pillows and blankets the bed feels empty. Link peeks from behind his eyelids and confirms the notion. He’s alone in someone else’s bedroom. He doesn’t need to look under the covers to know that he’s naked.

What have I done? I never get black out drunk.

The throbbing headache tells him otherwise and Link wracks his brain, trying to remember what happened last night.

The office Christmas party! Oh God, have I gone home with a co-worker?

The nausea returns in full force and Link buries himself under the covers. He remembers the gaudily decorated lunch room, the band playing overly cheery Christmas songs, the tables filled with booze and Christmas cookies and the dimly lit corners of the office filled with co-workers engaged in acts that on any other day would make them blush and run away. Link sighs.

Why did I even go? I don’t like any of those people.

Link has worked at IBM for a little over a year now and still feels like an outsider. No one is outright mean or rude, but ever since his preferences got out during the first month working there, everyone has kept a very obvious distance between themselves and Link. It’s annoying, but not bad enough for Link to try and find another job. The pay is good and the benefits are great. He doesn’t have to be friends with his co-workers to do his job.

But apparently, I’ve gotten quite friendly with one last night.

The idea of sharing a bed with any of his co-workers makes Link’s stomach turn. Well, all but one. Link doesn’t think he was at the party, though. He’s not the type to come to an office party. But then again, neither is Link. He scours his memory. He remembers talking with the new guy – Fred? – from accounting. He was nice enough but had been pretty wasted. Link also had to, more than once, politely decline the advances of Ashley as she kept trying to pull him into one of those dark corners. Link faintly remembers her saying something about kissing the gay away. Link shivers at the memory. Thankfully he doesn’t work closely with her. But nowhere in his memory is there even a trace of the man that has haunted Link’s nights for the past six months.

You are being ridiculous. It’s obviously not him. He doesn’t even know I exist.

Rhett had started at the company six months ago as a supervisor for another team and even though they didn’t work together Link had been instantly smitten. Rhett had that whole hot lumberjack vibe going on and just the sheer size of him made Link melt. The man was a tall glass of drink and Link ached for a sip. 

Link had made a point to have lunch every day at the same time as Rhett. They didn’t eat together; Link had never gathered the courage to sit at the same table as the golden haired daydream. He sat at his lonely side table, pining for the man like a horny teenager.

Even if he’d come to the party, I would have never approached him.

The air under the covers had grown stale and too warm to breath and Link pulls himself free of the self-imposed prison. He spots his glasses on a nightstand and crawls to retrieve them, instantly feeling better as the room around him sharpens. A noise catches Link’s attention. He can hear a clatter of dishes from somewhere in the house and a cabinet door bangs closed. Link’s heart leaps.

Who the heck have I gone home with? I didn’t even know anyone else was gay!

Should he go? Maybe he should just slip out. Maybe that’s what they want. Maybe that’s why they’ve left them alone in their bed. But Link has to know. He can’t leave without knowing who to avoid come Monday. 

Link slowly lifts himself up on his elbows and let’s his gaze sweep the room hoping to see his clothes on the floor somewhere. Unfortunately the floor is spotless. Link doesn’t have time to get up to look for them properly because suddenly he hears someone coming up the stairs. Panicked, Link decides to stay in the bed and pulls the covers all the way up to his chin.

Oh God, please don’t be Fred. Please, please, please! He was old enough to be my father!

A tall figure fills the door frame of the bedroom and the sight punches the air out of Link’s lungs. He stares at the man, wide eyed and jaw hanging slack.

“Hey,” Rhett says quietly. For a second it looks like his face lights up when he sees Link but the expression disappears before Link can be sure. Rhett’s holding a tray and wearing a black tee and grey slacks. He shimmies into the room, almost like he’s afraid of Link; his movements are jerky and awkward.

“You’re up. That’s goo– Um... You were quite…  I – I guess I was worried,” Rhett stammers, sets the tray on the bed next to Link and backs away quickly. He hovers at the door looking like he might bolt at any second.

I’m in Rhett McLaughlin’s bed! Did we…?

Link is still at a loss for words. His gaze flits to the tray. The food smells amazing and his mouth instantly waters. There’s a cup of coffee, eggs and bacon, an assortment of fruits and few slices of toast. There’s also a big glass of water and a pill that looks to be Tylenol.

“Do you…? Um… That’s for you, if you’re up for it. I mean… you don’t have to. Obviously, you can just go. I just wanted to…” Rhett is mumbling and waving towards the tray. Link has trouble meshing this shy and floundering Rhett with the charming and confident man he’s used to seeing around the office.

What is going on? How did I end up here? With him?

“Thanks,” Link finally manages to say. He pulls the tray closer to himself and takes the pill, washing it down with the water provided. The water is ice cold and Link lets out a satisfied sigh. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of Rhett’s lips.

“Oh! Your clothes are on the bench at the end of the bed. And um… I charged your phone, it’s downstairs. I can get it now if…” He’s suddenly speaking very quickly and turns on his heels to leave.

“Wait!” Link calls after him lifting his hand as if he could physically stop him. Rhett slowly turns back and tilts his head questioningly.

“This is a bit embarrassing but… How did I get here?” Link asks. Rhett leans against the door frame and gnaws his bottom lip in a way that makes Link’s heart flutter. 

When did he get so fucking cute? Like shy and small somehow? 

“You don’t remember?” Rhett asks and Link is certain he can detect a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“No, sorry.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s not surprising. When I got to the party you were… Let’s just say that you weren’t exactly dancing on the tables but it was close.”

Link buries his face into his palms and groans.

What the hell? I don’t remember drinking that much.  

“Someone spiked your drink. I heard some folks talking about it,” Rhett says, anger hardening the edges of his words. Link reveals his face and stares at him, horrified. His stomach tightens uncomfortably.

“What?”

Fucking assholes!

“Yeah. I’m gonna figure out who they were and report them. Don’t worry about it, okay? What they did was... inexcusable. I tried taking you home but couldn’t get you to give me your address and I just… brought you here.”

“Oh.” Link feels himself deflating.

He was just being nice. Nothing happened between us…

“Wait,” Link says suddenly remembering his state of undress. “Why am I…?”

“Naked? Yeah. Um… when we got here I think you maybe thought you were at home? You just took all your clothes off and crawled into my bed. I didn’t look! I promise! And I slept in the guest room,” Rhett assures quickly. His eyes are wide and he’s swaying in place; radiating waves of nervous energy. 

Link curses mentally. Of course, he’s worried; worried to be seen as gay; worried that Link is getting ideas. That’s why he’s being so awkward and jumpy.

“Sorry,” Link mutters, takes a piece of toast and stuffs it into his mouth. He should go. He should leave Rhett to wallow on the possibility that people are gonna gossip about them now. But he’s hungry and it would be rude not to eat something since Rhett has made it specifically for him.  

A pity breakfast. Wonderful. I’ve just made a complete ass of myself in front of the only person whose opinion I actually care about. Might as well crawl into a hole and stay there.  

“You really don’t remember anything?” Rhett asks quietly. Link turns to look at him and frowns. Rhett is looking down at his hands as he wrings them together. He looks flustered. Link swallows the dry toast with some difficulty and asks:

“Um… should I? Did I do something rude?”

Oh God! Did I come on to him? Maybe he’s lying about the undressing. Maybe I stripped for him or…

“Oh no, nothing like that. You were very polite,” Rhett assures and smiles a tiny smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Silence falls between them. Rhett rubs his neck and stares out of the room tapping his foot. Then he suddenly launches out of the room.

“Gonna get your phone!” he hollers from the stairs. Still feeling embarrassed and slightly confused Link stares at the space he’s left unoccupied. He takes another bite of the toast and sips from the coffee cup. The coffee is amazing; aromatic and smooth. Link sighs and closes his eyes.

I wonder if he does this to the women he brings home. Do they get the home-cooked breakfast as well? Does he get back into bed with them? Maybe he even feeds them grapes. Or kisses the taste of bacon off of their lips. Maybe things escalate from there…

Link coughs and shakes his head trying to stop himself. But his mind keeps running wild; thinking up scenarios where he’s a welcome guest not an intruder. Link rubs the silky sheet with his palm and imagines the feel of it under his back when Rhett moves over him. Rhett’s shoulder muscles pulled taut under Link’s touch. Rhett’s lips against Link’s neck. His teeth sinking into Link’s flesh as he gets lost in his pleasure...

Link knows it’s a bad idea to let himself indulge like this, but he’s in Rhett’s bed. He’s never gonna be here again and what does it matter if he wants to imagine a bit. He’s not hurting anyone. Rhett doesn’t need to know what he actually wants to do between his sheets.

It takes a while for Rhett to return and when he does he stops dead at the door and stares at Link looking confused.

“Oh,” he says and takes a step back.

What? Did he think I’d leave without my phone?

“Do you want me to give you a bit more time to…?” Rhett asks motioning towards the end of the bed. Link follows his gaze and the realization slams into him.

Oh for fuck’s sake. I am an idiot. He left so I could get dressed.

“I – I’m sorry. I didn’t… “ Link stammers flushing red with embarrassment. Rhett steps next to the bed and hands him his phone. Link grabs it and their fingers touch making Rhett jump visibly. Link’s mood sours further.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just let you… Take your time,” Rhett whispers and escapes the room.

Reluctantly Link leaves the breakfast – it’s been delicious – and gets up. His clothes are on a neatly folded stack on the bench just like Rhett said and Link quickly pulls them on. He’s gonna go. He’s gonna go home and bury himself under a pile of blankets and wallow.

Might be the time to start looking for a new job…

He quickly downs rest of his coffee and then descends the stairs. He can hear Rhett moving in a room that looks to be the kitchen. Link peeks inside.

“Hey. Thanks for – everything. I’m gonna go.”

Rhett turns with raised eyebrows.

“Oh.”

“So um… You know. Thanks again and bye,” Link stammers and hates himself for his shaky voice. He turns and rushes towards the front door, his stomach tightened into a painful knot.  

His hand is on the handle when he hears the steps behind him.

“Link, wait!”

Link turns, wondering if he forgot something. Rhett strides up to him and stops at an arm’s length away. His mouth opens and closes. He sways back and forth. Link’s about to ask what’s going on but is cut short by Rhett blurting out: 

“I’m not gay!”

Link sighs and fights the eye roll. The knot inside him tightens. He curses his luck.

Why do I always have to fall for the homophobes? I really have a problem.

“I know. Don’t worry. No one’s gonna think that,“ Link assures the man in front of him. Rhett looks like he’s about to burst into tears. He’s still teetering on his heels, tilting towards Link.

Well, they might. But that’s not my problem.

“I don’t care about them,” Rhett mutters. He swallows hard enough for Link to see his Adam’s apple bob. “What I meant is… I’m not gay. I don’t think so, at least,” he murmurs and takes a deep breath before stepping closer to Link. They’re toe to toe and Link has to lift his eyes to look at him. Rhett’s closeness is sucking all of the oxygen out of the air; suddenly Link is having trouble breathing.  

God, he’s gorgeous. Those eyes… What even is that color?

“But for the last six months, all I’ve been able to think about is kissing you.”

Rhett’s words crash into Link with the force of a hurricane and he draws a sharp breath. 

Rhett lifts his hand and caresses Link’s cheek gently. Link’s whole body quivers. His stomach flashes hot and he feels light-headed.

“Can I?” Rhett murmurs, brushing his thumb lightly over Link’s lower lip.

Fuck yes!

“Yeah,” Link breathes and careens towards Rhett.

Their lips meet, soft and searching at first, then more eager. Rhett’s mouth opens and invites Link’s tongue in with a quick flick of his own. The heat in Link’s belly roars. He melts into Rhett.

I could get used to this.

When they finally part to draw ragged breaths, both are flushed and beaming.

“Are you in a rush?” Rhett whispers as his arm wraps around Link’s waist. Link shakes his head slowly, feeling dazed.

“Stay a while?” Rhett asks. Pleads.

“Okay.”

Then Link’s being lead back upstairs towards the bedroom and suddenly the world has colors he’s never seen before.

[chungledown-bimothy]

Keep Talking, Oh, Keep Talking

So, I know it’s been FOREVER since I posted any writing, and that’s mostly because I was working on this @sanderssantas​ fic for @mewithanie​! So sorry about how long it’s been, and hopefully I’ll be posting things again slightly more often lol

I had so much fun writing this! Happy holidays, mewithanie! <3

AO3     Masterlist

Summary: Patton and Virgil were deliriously in love and didn’t think they could get any happier. Enter Logan, Virgil’s tutor.

Warnings: alcohol use, slight intoxication. 

Pairing(s): established moxiety into analogicality

Word Count: 2,647 (plus 2 fake-texts images)

Tag List:  @ren-allen​​ @ccecode​​ @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn​​ @ilovemygaydad​​ @bloodropsblog​​ @funsizedgremlin​​ @raygelkitty​​ @roxiefox23​​ @thomasthesandersengine​

Patton loved his boyfriends. He loved them so much that sometimes, when he thought about them, his heart would race, his knees would go weak, and his head would spin. Especially since Logan joined the relationship.

Patton and Virgil met the first day of college, in their shared psychology class. It wasn't long until they started dating, and a year later, they moved in together. Patton had known for years that he was polyamorous, but he kept that to himself, because he was blissfully happy with Virgil, and it was never relevant. Until the second semester after they moved in together, that is.

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

Eight Months Ago

Fifteen minutes later, Virgil walked through the front door of the apartment and was immediately caught in a bear hug.

"Well hello to you too," Virgil laughed, despite his terrible mood.

"What, a guy can't be excited to see his favorite stormcloud?" Patton looked up at him, his expression just a little bit too innocent.

"Patton, what did you do?" Virgil questioned, remembering the cupcake tower Patton made the night before their first set of final exams together and the time he came home from his first therapy session to find the living room covered in fairy lights.

"Nothing major; I promise. Come look!" Patton took him by the hand and practically dragged him into the kitchen. "See? Just a lasagna. Let's eat while you tell me about your meeting and this mysterious Logan guy."

Virgil got a couple plates and served the lasagna as he started talking. "Turns out, he's in my class. I've mentioned front-and-center-nerd before, yeah?" Patton laughed.

"Dresses more professionally than the teacher, kinda cute but also seems stuck up?"

"Yep, that's the guy. He's a lot chiller than I thought he'd be. Anyway, we're gonna meet after class every Wednesday for the rest of the semester."

"I'm sure it's gonna go great!"

Five Months Ago

"Hi, I'm Patton! Nice to meet you; Virgil has said such wonderful things about you!" Patton half-yelled over the music playing at the bar.

"Oh, erm, hello. I am Logan, although clearly you already knew that. Virgil has spoken highly of you as well." Logan fought the impulse to adjust his tie. Patton opened his mouth to say something else, but Virgil arrived with their drinks, passing them out as he sat down.

"Alright, we've got a whiskey neat for Logan, some IPA that the bartender recommended for you, Pat, and a rum and Coke for me. Honestly, though, Patton, I don't get how you can drink those. I had a sip of yours on my way over, and it was awful."

Patton laughed. "Yeah, they're not for everyone, but I like 'em! And it's hard to drink too many of them, unlike your drinks, so I don't get super drunk- my tolerance is garbage. Anyway," he continued with a mock glare at his boyfriend, "we aren't here to make fun of the way I drink, we're here to celebrate Virgil!" He raised his glass.

"Indeed. It has been an honor working with you this past semester, Virgil, and I am proud to see your hard work pay off," Logan added, raising his glass as well.

Virgil blushed and refused to look at either of them. "I barely got a B+, that's hardly a reason to celebrate," he mumbled.

"Falsehood. Truthfully, when we began working together, I doubted that you would be able to achieve higher than a C. You worked incredibly hard, not only on the subject matter, but on how you approached studying. Your dedication is truly inspiring."

"Hear hear! Virge, I know how hard this class has been on you. You've worked that cute butt of yours off for it, and that alone deserves celebration, even before you take into account how much that hard work paid off! But if it helps, we can call this a general post-finals celebration, okay?" Patton was rewarded with a grateful smile.

"You guys deserve to be celebrated too. Logan, you have been so incredibly patient with me; I know that I'm not exactly the most pleasant to be around when I get frustrated, so, thanks for sticking with me, I guess. And Pat, you've had my back since day one. I love you more than I could ever say, baby." He pressed a sweet kiss to Patton's cheek, and Logan was suddenly very interested in his drink.

"Loooogan has anyone told you how pretty you are?" Patton hit his hands on the table, almost knocking over the glass that once contained a strawberry daiquiri; he'd decided he wanted something sweeter after two beers.

"No no no no, the prettiest one here is Virgil. Those cheekbones have got to be illegal somewhere," Logan wasn't any more sober, two whiskeys in. "And his face when he's focusing on studying is just the cutest thing everrr."

"Oh I know! Have you seen him do the thing where he sticks his tongue out a little bit when he's really concentrating?" Patton was practically bouncing in his seat, continuing to be a danger to the glasses.

"Dear Newton yes! I had to excuse myself and get a drink of water the first time I saw him do it."

"Wait, that's why you left? I thought it was because you were getting frustrated with how long it was taking me to get it!" Virgil chimed in, astonished.

"Sounds like he was some sort of frustrated alright," Patton muttered.

"Look. We all know that Virgil is an incredibly attractive man, and I am a simple homosexual. That said, Patton, I apologize for the… less than appropriate thoughts I may have had before I knew that he was in a relationship at all, let alone one as objectively adorable as yours."

Patton giggled. "No worries, Lolo! Like you said, my man is an entire three-course meal, and it would be silly of me to hold natural, human thoughts against you! And besides, you weren't the only one in those study sessions with some interesting thoughts, right Virgey?"

"Oh my god Patton I cannot believe you just said that!" Virgil hid his flaming blush behind his hands.

"Oops! Sorry, V!"

"You- you're okay with that? Your boyfriend and a stranger having lewd thoughts about each other?" Logan asked.

"Well yeah! I'm not the jealous type, and I trust Virgil. What's important to me is open and honest communication, and he told me about his attraction to you almost immediately. Plus, in all honesty, I found it kinda hot, especially once he showed me a picture of you."

Logan looked to Virgil and raised an eyebrow. Virgil game the same look to Patton, who, after a moment of confusion and then realization, nodded slightly and leaned back in his chair. Once Patton gave his blessing, Virgil leaned in and kissed Logan, soft and unsure. After they separated, Logan approached Patton and, after receiving another nod of consent, pressed a similar kiss to his lips.

The next morning

"So… can we talk about what happened last night?" Patton asked sweetly over breakfast.

"Oh my god are you actually not okay with it? Patton, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, Virgil, no, I really did mean that it was okay. More than okay, even. In fact, I think now is a good time to tell you that I'm polyamorous. I had a lot of fun hanging out with Logan last night, and I'd like to get to know him better. And clearly you are both into each other. I love you so much, and I just want you to be happy. If you want to, I think at least a conversation with Logan about it couldn't hurt."

Virgil sat in silence, sipping his coffee occasionally, for several minutes before speaking. "Pat, I love you more than I can possibly say. I'm honestly not surprised that you're polyam; you have so much love to give. I, uh, I actually am too. So, uh, I guess I'll call Logan? See if he wants to get lunch or something?"

"Aww yay! Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower real quick." Patton kissed Virgil quickly on the cheek on his way out of the room.

Virgil took a steadying breath and took out his phone.

     -

Logan straightened his tie and cleared his throat. "If I am understanding this correctly, you are both polyamorous and… wish for me to join your relationship?"

"Not so formally, but yeah? Last night, it was clear we all find each other hot. Which, like, duh, you're both gorgeous and sometimes I look pretty okay. Not now, Pat." Virgil preempted Patton's interruption without looking away from Logan. "I like you a lot, and I think you and Patton would also get along really well. So, uh, yeah, this is us asking you out. Not asking for any sort of commitment or anything, just hanging out and going on dates and stuff. You know, normal dating stuff. Just… with two of us."

"Only if you want to! And if you wanted to just date Virgil, I'd be completely okay with that too, but I had a lot of fun last night, and I'd love to get to know you better."

A tense moment of silence later, Logan spoke. "Let me begin by saying how flattered I am by your interest, both of you. While I am… inclined to accept your invitation to date both of you, I have never put much thought into my own feelings about polyamory for myself. Obviously, it is a completely normal and rational thing; my hesitation is in how I might fit into your so well-established relationship. Additionally, feelings do not come easily to me, and I find them exceedingly frustrating trying to understand. I have been reliably informed that this makes me a poor romantic partner." He took a breath and adjusted his tie.

"I have noticed that you are both quite vocally and physically publicly affectionate with each other, and I wonder whether my reticence with such displays would leave you unhappy with me. I have historically struggled to show adequate affection to just one person; I cannot imagine I would be able to give you both the kind of affection you seem to crave. In short, while I would like to accept, I currently cannot see it ending in anything but significant emotional distress for all of us. I apologize, most sincerely."

"I think I can safely speak for both of us when I say that we appreciate your honesty," Patton began gently. "Can I address some of your points?" Logan gave him a confused look, but nodded. "Thank you! So, it seems like your big concern is that you're afraid your emotional reticence would in some way hurt us or leave us unsatisfied. Am I understanding that right?" He waited for another nod before continuing. "To be honest, Lo, that's just silly. Are you familiar with Gary Chapman's concept of love languages?" Logan shook his head.

"Chapman posited that there are five ways people experience and express love- gifts, quality time, acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch- and everyone prefers to give and receive one or two of them over the others. Mine is words of affirmation, and Virgil's is physical touch; that's why we are as outwardly affectionate as we are. Trying to force a partner to 'speak' your language and not their own is just going to make everyone unhappy; healthy relationships require everyone involved to understand what the others need and want. We would never try to force you into anything you aren't comfortable with. We want to date you, Logan, not some version of you that pretends to be something or someone you aren't. If you let us, we'd love to learn your love language and not ask or expect anything else of you."

"Also," Virgil chimed in, "as to your worry about how you'd fit? Not a worry at all. I love Patton so much, and his energy and positivity makes me feel so good most of the time, but sometimes it can be... a bit much. He's wonderful at giving me space when I want it, but I know that I'd enjoy having someone else around who's more grounded. On the other hand, I remember quite a few study sessions that got diverted by you going on a tangent about something you love. If you think that passion isn't something Patton is going to join you in, you're incredibly wrong. And I think that his energy will help draw you out of that thick shell of yours, while I'll always be a more down-to-earth realist with you. I think we'd all be great for each other, if you're willing to give us the chance to show you. Only if you want to, though. One word, and we'll shut up about it forever." He gave Logan an anxious smile.

"In the face of such reasonable responses to my concerns, I suppose I have no choice but to gladly accept." Virgil and Patton both silently melted at the pure joy in Logan's smile. Well, Virgil was silent. Patton let out a squeal of delight that only dogs could hear.

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

Present

Patton loved his boyfriends so much, just remembering the beginning of their story made him dizzy. Wait. No. Bad dizzy. I need to- he collapsed on the bathroom floor with a resounding THUD.  

-

THUD

Virgil jumped out of his seat. "Logan? Patton??" he called as he ran from their bedroom to the living room.

"Patton? Virgil?" Logan shouted at the same time. They met in the living room.

"Shit, where's Patton? PATTON!" Virgil yelled.

"It sounded like it came from the bathroom." Logan had barely finished his sentence before they both started running. They skidded to a halt outside the closed door; Virgil knocked.

"Patton? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

Three seconds of silence later, Logan knocked. "Patton, we are coming in." They opened the door to find him collapsed on the floor.

"Patton, can you hear us? Patton??" Virgil fell to his knees, checking for breathing and a pulse. "He's got a weak pulse, but it's there, and he's breathing okay. I don't- what do we do, Lo?" Virgil's voice was barely more than a shaky squeak.

Logan, on the other hand, spoke with cool, detached clarity. "Assuming that Patton collapsed due to a loss of consciousness, he has been unconscious for approximately thirty seconds. If he is out for another minute, we will call 911. In the meantime, go get a glass of water and all the pillows from the living room. Quickly, Verge. We need to get him back." They locked eyes and saw mirrored concern and panic. Virgil turned and ran to the kitchen. He was back in 45 seconds, and found Logan holding up Patton's groggy, but conscious, head.

"Virgil, you're back. Excellent. Here, give me a couple of pillows." He tucked them under his head gently, while Virgil knelt down beside him and took his hand. Only then did he notice how much his own were shaking.

"Patton, are you okay? What happened?"

"Mmf, dunno. Got dizzy. Are you guys okay?" Patton mumbled.

"Patton, of- of course we are okay; you're the one who fell. We should get you into bed. Do you think you can stand?" Logan asked.

"I- I don't think so, not quite yet." Logan and Virgil once again met eyes in a silent conversation.

"Okay, Pat, knees up, I'm gonna carry you." With an ease that surprised and slightly aroused Logan, Virgil picked Patton up, placed a soft kiss to his forehead, and carried him to the bedroom. "Let's get you to bed, baby; we'll take good care of you. You're gonna be just fine," he said softly into Patton's hair.

Once they got him to bed, they tucked him in, Logan made chicken noodle soup for when Patton felt up to it, and they gave him all of the cuddles he could possibly want. Which is, of course, an unlimited amount.

[theolddarkmachine]

Imaginary- Chapter Eight

Midoriya Izuku’s life was turned upside by fate.

Eri’s life was turned upside down by circumstance.

And Bakugou Katsuki is about to learn that even imaginary friends need to grow up.

Also on AO3

A/N: Would you believe I got this all done in one day? It’s like I can almost keep up with my own writing schedule XD Anyway, please know that I really love Eri and would 100% protect her with my life.

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

Katsuki doesn’t know why he went with the lie.

He still doesn’t know why Midoriya Izuku can see him.

Most importantly, he doesn’t know why the fuck he’s in the Midoriya household, sitting at their dining table eating semi stale chocolate chip cookies and pretending to like coffee, while also pretending to know anything about Eri’s progress at daycare.

Katsuki supposes he can just go ahead and add that to the ever growing list of things he apparently doesn’t know. What the hell was one more item anyway?

“It’s funny how we bought your grandma’s house,” Midoriya chuckles, ripping him from the depths of his thoughts. His eyes watch him closely as he blows over his coffee before taking a sip. Sitting across the table from him, Midoriya is still in that damned worn tank top, and still distracting. Even more so now that Katsuki can’t help the way his gaze helplessly tracks his throat as he swallows the hot liquid.

This had been the last thing he’d expected when he’d woken up this morning and decided to bit the bullet and make his return.

He was Bakugou damn Katsuki after all, and he was one of the best god damn imaginary friends out there. A green haired nerd of a father seeing him wasn’t going to keep him from doing his job.

That’s exactly what he had told himself as he’d gotten ready, ignoring the slight pulse of his brain against his skull thanks to the the previous night’s alcohol.

It’s what he had continued to tell himself as he’d finally make his way over to the Midoriyas.

And that’s what he tried to remind himself as Midoriya himself had stood there looking wholly indecent on his front step.

Averting his eyes when the man resurfaces from the edge of his mug, Katsuki takes a sip of his own bitter coffee for something to do, and promptly chokes on the scalding heat.

“Yeah,” he says lamely after catching his breath, voice husky from the coffee’s attempt on his life. “Really funny.”

“Guess that’s a small town for you,” Midoriya hums, happily supplying Katsuki his own cover up for his lie.

“Yeah,” he says again, lower this time as he lets his eyes drag towards where Eri sits between them. With her tongue poking out slightly and a look of concentration across her face, she covers the paper in front of her with marker.

Calm settles out over the room as Katsuki watches Eri add a bright orange butterfly to the corner of her paper. It stretches over the length of several minutes before he sees Midoriya open his mouth, ready to say something, when the sudden loud chirp of his phone causes him to snap it shut.

Turning his attention from the paper, Katsuki watches as he stands, letting his gaze linger as Midoriya walks to the counter and picks up his cellphone. His brows pinch together as he looks down at the screen.

“Sorry, I got to take this,” he says, not bothering to wait for Katsuki’s nod before answering and walking out of the kitchen. The sudden urgency in his voice causes Eri to look up from her work just in time to see him leave.

“Hey, brat,” Katsuki mutters, pulling her attention away from the entrance of the kitchen where Midoriya’s voice is just a dull hum. A small frown plays across her lips as she looks up to him with darkened eyes.

That just won’t fucking do, he thinks silently to himself before contorting his face into something ridiculous. There’s a momentary hesitation as Eri looks on before she laughs loudly. Settling his face back into an approximation of his usual steely look— even as his lips curve upward slightly— he grabs for a marker. Popping the cap, he starts to add a doodle beside her colorful rainbow.

Smile pulling wider as she watches him, she leans back down to continue decorating the paper beside him.

It isn’t until several minutes later that Katsuki feels the heat of a weighted stare on him, brushing his skin with a firelight glow and raising goosebumps across his arms. Snapping his attention upward, he catches the last vestiges of fondness that still cling to Midoriya’s stare as he stands in the doorway, gaze intent on the scene before him.

An unfamiliar twist rocks deep in his stomach as their eyes meet, and Midoriya nods his head back, beckoning him to come over.

“Mind finishing this off for me?” Katsuki asks Eri, eyes still fixed on her dad as he blindly points at the small dog he’s outlined with the name King Explosion Murder written in block letters beside it.

“Okay!” She cheers, pulling the paper closer to her as she gets to work on making the fearsome dog purple.

The loud sound of the metal chair legs against the linoleum signals his movement as he stands, making his way to where Midoriya stands in the hallway just outside the kitchen. Curiosity fills him with an odd liquid warmth as he stands before the shorter man, still not used to the weight of his gaze finding him instead of looking through him.

“I have a huge favor to ask you,” Midoriya says without preamble, looking just shy of sheepish as a pink flush paints itself across his cheeks. The rush of electric admiration tickles along the edges of Katsuki’s ribs with the realization that Midoriya is a couple inches shorter than him as he looks up.

“Go on,” Katsuki says, voice brusque with his interest as he crosses his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to stop the buzzing in his chest.

“There’s a pretty big wreck about 30 minutes out of town, and we’re the closest police department,” Midoriya starts, rubbing at his arm absently as he keeps his eyes set just over his shoulder. “They need all hands on deck.”

“So you need me to sit in with the kid,” Katsuki finishes for him, watching as the flush goes a deeper shade and makes his freckles stand out more against the pink.

It’s a beautiful shade, a small voice at the back of his head whispers.

Wait, what the fuck?

“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind,” Midoriya says, shifting his gaze the few inches to the left to catch his ruby touched look dead on. There’s a challenge there, nestled in the depths of his own jewel toned stare as he doesn’t back down, even as his cheeks radiate his chagrin.

“I’d ask my mom, but she’s the next town over with a friend, and I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Breath holding in the base of his throat, Katsuki tilts his head, looking at Midoriya for what feels like the first time. He knows it must take a lot to ask him for the help, if the fire in his eyes is anything to go by, and something about that makes another rumble of warmth go through his chest.

“You don’t know me,” he hears himself say before he can stop the track of his thoughts from falling from his lips. It causes Midoriya to laugh, the sound of it tinged with an odd sort of disbelief as he shakes his head.

“Yeah, but Eri seems to like you well enough,” he replies, eyes shifting to where the young girl is still at the dining table, happily coloring.

Decision makes his gaze bright as he returns it to Katsuki.

“Between you and me, she seems to like you so much that she named her imaginary friend after you.”

Quick panic shocks all of Katsuki’s senses as the statement too close to the truth.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, especially since it must be your day off, but please,” Midoriya’s voice goes soft and hopeful. Mouth going dry as he finds himself pinned beneath a vast forest of green, Katsuki nods his head dumbly.

“Yeah, alright,” he agrees quietly.

Looking down as Midoriya’s eyes light up, Katsuki doesn’t know why the bright gratitude slips straight through his rib cage and lands directly at his heart.

Mentally, he adds that to the list.

***

I owe you one, Midoriya had said, right after giving him a quick tour of the home and pointing out the location of every one of their emergency first aid kits.

Yes, plural, because apparently on top of being a cop, he was also a top notch worry wart.

Staring dumbly at the front door that Midoriya had just left out of, Katsuki counts to ten before turning to where Eri is now situated in the living room. After putting up a bit of a fight upon hearing that her dad had to go into work on his day off, the four year old had finally let him off the hook only after he’d promised that she could pick what they had for dinner. Now, she sat with her legs crossed in front of her, sandwiched between the couch and coffee table as her eyes fixate on the television, leaving her drawing supplies abandoned before her.

A small wave of emotion rolls over him as he looks at Eri.

He really had missed her.

“Tsk,” Katsuki hisses under his breath as he moves into the living room. I’m getting soft.

Dropping down next to the small girl, he folds one leg in front of him and stretches the other out to the side. Katsuki isn’t sure he was ever small enough to fit in between the two pieces of furniture, but he sure as shit isn’t now.

Lowly, he tsks again as he tries to adjust himself enough free his back from the near painful press of the couch against his spine.

“So, brat, not that I’m usually one to talk about morals, but you do know lying is bad, right?” Katsuki finally says after giving up on his futile endeavor, instead setting his attention on Eri as she turns to him. Her little brows pull together in confusion as she tilts her head.

“You know, how you told your dad I’m from daycare,” he continues, waving his hand as if it helped in his explanation. A small smile turns her lips upwards, and he isn’t sure what he expected her reaction to be, but that wasn’t it.

“Silly, Kacchan, that wasn’t a lie!” Eri laughs, shaking her head almost like she knows something he doesn’t.

A muscle just beneath his eye twitches.

“Okay, but it’s still not really the truth either,” he grits out, wondering for the first time in his existence if this is how it felt to be a parent.

“You had seemed really worried about Daddy Izuku seeing you,” Eri explains as a brief pause, her shoulders slumping and voice small as she speaks, filling Katsuki with instantaneous regret. Her eyes fall to the carpet between them before she speaks again,

“I was just trying to help.”

The admission presses heavy on his heart as he sighs, reaching out slowly to drop his hand on her head, giving her hair a quick ruffle.

“You’re too damn smart, kid,” he says lowly. “Thanks for that.”

A beaming grin starts to spread across her features as he drops his hand, mouth opening around a statement before he cuts off her excitement by holding up a finger in the universal sign of ‘wait.’

“But next time, if we need to lie, let’s come up with one together, okay?” Katsuki says, breathing a bit easier when she nods in agreement.

Good, he thinks to himself as she turns her attention back to the TV. A pleasant, comfortable quiet hushes through the room as Eri watches her cartoon. Reaching forward, Katsuki pops the cap off a marker and starts to mark an empty piece of paper with bold black lines. It’s an easy sort of silence as he loses himself to the simple work of drawing, time passing steadily around them for an undetermined amount of time before Eri speaks again.

“Kacchan?” She asks quietly, not turning to look at him as she does.

“Yeah, squirt?” He answers, voice preoccupied as he grabs for the green marker and begins filling in some of the spaces between his lines. The high pitched sound of cheering blares from the television, filling the space of her silence for long enough that Katsuki wonders if she’d heard him.

“Why’d you leave?” Eri finally asks. Clenching his fist around his marker, he looks up in time to see her lip wobble slightly, even as her eyes remain set straight ahead.

“Do you not like me anymore?”

It’s a painfully earnest question, turned dark with its hurt, and Katsuki feels it squeeze around his heart like a vice.

“Don’t be stupid, of course I like you,” he growls, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Sniffling loudly, Eri just nods as she continues to not look at him. Quickly replacing the cap on the marker, Katsuki drops it before turning as much as he can in the small space to face her.

“Listen, I wasn’t gone because of anything you did. Your dad saw me, so I tried to stay away for a bit since he wasn’t supposed to see me,” he tries to explain as he chews on the anger that ripples through him, all of its heat centered on himself.

“But he still can,” Eri says, tone matter-of-fact.

“Yeah, looks like it,” he answers, though it isn’t a question.

Her nod is sharper this time as she finally tuns to look at him. An infinitesimal smile draws across her face, even as unshed tears cling to the corners of her eyes.

“Well I’m glad Daddy Izuku can see you,” she proclaims boldly, then sniffles.

“What the—” Katsuki bites off his expletive at her sudden exclamation. Sucking a steady breath through his front teeth, he starts again.

“Why’s that, squirt?”

“Because if he can see you, that means you’re friends now!” Eri says excitedly, bouncing a little where she sits. “And that means you get to be his friend for as long as he needs you too!”

There’s a moment as Katsuki looks down at the small girl as she looks up at him, eyes still watery as she echoes his words from when they had met. They shift something in his mind as a realization suddenly clicks into place.

Imaginary friends are meant to help those who have forgotten how to smile.

The Administrator’s words circle around his thoughts as a sudden flash of emerald blinks across focus, truly seeing him before fading away, replaced by Eri’s expectant look.

“Huh,” he manages as he turns back to his drawing, grabbing for a grey marker and removing the cap to continue his work.

Leave it to a four year old to figure it out, he thinks to himself as he folks his breathing to the time of his careful strokes of color.

“Does your dad need a friend?” Katsuki wonders out loud, not expecting much of an answer. He figures it’s a far bigger question than a child could probably answer, even if she was slowly proving to be one of the smartest people he knew.

There’s a small hum beside him, and he sees her tap a capped marker on her chin as she thinks.

“I think so,” she says definitively, turning her honest gaze to him. Lifting his marker, he pauses, waiting for her to continue.

“He saved me, and we had to move because of that,” she speaks low. “I don’t think he wants me to know that, but I do.”

Katsuki shakes his head slightly.

“Too damn smart,” he repeats under his breath, cutting his gaze to the side to see her expression twist into something sour. Not bothering with the cap this time, he drops the marker off to the side with a small clatter.

“What’s up, kid?” Katsuki finds himself asking as she wipes the back of her wrist across her eyes.

“Do you think I’m cursed, Kacchan?” Eri asks, voice watery as she keeps her eyes pressed into the back of her small forearm.

“No, I don’t,” he answers immediately, tone defiant in challenge of whatever fate had made the small girl feel that way. “And I bet if you ask your dad, he wouldn’t think so either.”

“But bad things always happen to the adults I know,” she cries, scrubbing furiously now at her eyes to dry away the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Something sharp snaps at the center of his chest, forcing a growl from out from deep in his chest as he pulls Eri into his side for an awkward hug.

In that moment, he knows he’d burn the world down if that’s what it took to wipe away those thoughts from her mind.

“Listen here, brat. If anything bad happens to the adults, that’s not your fault. It wasn’t ever your fault, and won’t ever be your fault, alright?” Katsuki snarls, voice gruff in a way that he knows he should temper, but he’s angry that anything would make the small girl cry like this.

Minutes pass as he sits there with Eri tucked into his side as her tears dry up, and several minutes more before he feels her nod against his ribs.

“Good,” he huffs, pulling away from her to slip her the paper he’d been drawing on. The drawing brings her smile back to life as her gaze brushes over the brightly colored art of her and Midoriya. Grasping at the corner of the paper, she brings it closer to inspect it.

“Kaccahn?” She asks, looking over the the two grinning figures that stare up at her.

“Shoot, kid,” Katsuki answers, watching her smile continues to grow as she drags a finger over the lines of marker Midoriya.

“Do you think we could make Daddy Izuku happy?” Eri wonders. Stomach twisting at the question, Katsuki swallows down the sharp taste it leaves on the back of his tongue.

Reaching out for another blank sheet of paper, he grabs the abandoned marker that still lays on the table without its cap. Twirling it between his fingers with a quick flourish, he waggles his eyebrows at Eri, earning himself a small laugh before he writes TOP SECRET PLAN in bold letters at the top.

“Yeah, squirt. I think we could probably do that,” he finally says, offering her a smile and tilting his head toward the pile of markers between them. Excitement fills her eyes as she grabs one, pulling the cap off and settling herself up on her knees to better see the paper as she looks up at him with wander.

Nodding to her, he leans an elbow on the table and balances his chin on his palm, readying his marker over the paper.

“Now, what do you think we should do for him?”

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

[artificialqueens]

break up with ur girlfriend (3/3) - dartmouth420

a/n: part 3: in which Raven makes an ethically questionable decision, Raja really doesn’t like mornings, absolutely nothing will crush Manila’s positive attitude, and Jujubee throws a curve ball

basically ye olde morning after weirdness

thanks for reading :)

Raven awoke tired and a little hungover in bed with Manila and Raja. She raised her head and sighed, then noticed the tall glass of water on the bedside table. She loosely remembered Raja padding out of the room just as Raven was drifting off (thoroughly fucked out and happy) and placing something on the bedside table. That was kind of her, especially considering the circumstances in which they’d met. Raven raised the glass and took a big drink, appreciative.

Raven sat on the edge of the bed quietly, not wanting to wake them. Maybe she’d go and make coffee or something. Or maybe she should just leave. Raven glanced over her shoulder. A perfect ray of sunlight was hitting the bed where Manila and Raja were still curled up, asleep, and whole thing was aesthetically glorious.

Raven wondered if what was about to do was ethical. But then she shrugged, and raised her phone. Also, she really liked them, and might be interested in seeing them again, so she held no malicious intent.

The photo she took was from a strong angle, consisting of the corner of her face, one eye visible, eyebrow raised, blonde hair smooth close to her head. Behind her was the bed, and Raja and Manila curled up, still asleep. Raja was deep in the covers, only one closed eye, her forehead and a streak her long grey hair visible. Manila was next to Raja, lying on her back fast asleep with her mouth open, the cover pulled up to her chin.

She hit send.

BITCH replied Juju, quickly, with about eighteen emojis, you fucked them both???

you bet replied Raven, smug.

Wait a sec, Juju replied. Then the second text came in.

ohhhhhh YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE IT

what?? Raven looked down at her phone, concerned.

BITCH THE GIRL ON THE LEFT IS MY SECOND COUSIN

The blood drained from Raven’s face, and she looked back at Manila, who was… well, a young woman who’s last name she hadn’t asked for and who’s social media who hadn’t checked out. But in a big, multicultural city like this who would’ve expected her to be related to Raven’s best friend?

fuckkkk

Juju sent her a text containing twenty laugh-crying emojis and one devil, followed by a vomit-face.

uhhhh, don’t be grossed out but she’s hot, replied Raven, who was finding the situation as distressing as it was funny. This new factoid raised the stakes, seeing this couple was no longer an entirely anonymous entity.

She mildly regretted sending the photo. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy.

BITCH DON’T TELL ME THAT ABOUT MY COUSIN

idk if anyone knows she’s gay tbh that whole side of the family is pretty religious

i didn’t know lol

oh shit I’m sorry… was just trying to brag to u about my conquest haha

why are u like this it’s fucked up lol

idk lol

thanks for telling me

but like

i might wanna see her again?

maybe both of them ;) ??? typed out Raven, hitting send with some mild guilt. She’d definitely need to sit down and think about this later. After she had some caffeine.

o really?

yeah…

aw <3

Raven smiled at the phone. She really loved Juju, they’d been best friends since college, and truly shared everything.

can’t wait to be ur in-law, teased Juju,

imma bring u really cheap wedding gifts

ur getting an off-brand slow cooker

BITCH!

anyway g2g <3 <3

hmu later <3

Raven got up and walked to the bathroom. She quickly rinsed her face and mouth. She put the unexpected information from Juju about Manila aside for now, and decided not address it. This really wasn’t the time or the place. Then she padded over to the kitchen. It was a bit cluttered, clearly well-used and loved.

There was an espresso machine on the counter, and Raven grinned. She knew how to work one of those, having done the time in her early twenties as a barista. While the water heated, Raven looked at the pictures on the fridge. There were kitschy magnets from a few places around the world, ‘Paris, je t'aime!’, and several photos, including two goofy school pictures of Raja and Manila respectively. Manila glared at the camera, about thirteen and deep in an emo phase, judging by her racoon-like eyeliner, back-combed hair and striped long-sleeved shirt. Raja’s picture was more innocent, a goofy-looking androgynous nine-year old with a big smile, round face and black hair sticking up awkwardly.

Raven snorted a laugh. She appreciated this couple’s sense of humour, displaying silly pictures on their fridge.

She sighed. She shared her apartment somewhat resentfully with two room mates. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it was cheap and because of that she’d been able to put aside some savings. If only Tyra would do the dishes every once in a while. Not to mention she was pretty sure Nicole had a crush on her, and she had to figure out how to let the other girl down easy. In fact, Nicole was probably taking her dog for a walk right now. Raven winced and sighed. Whatever, these were problems for Future Raven. Hopefully she’d find a better job soon, and move on.

The espresso machine was gurgling, so Raven moved over and dealt with it.

A few minutes later she snuck back into the bedroom with three cups of espresso. She was a little nervous, this wasn’t something she’d normally do. She was more of a leave immediately after sex or quickly in the morning kind of lover. But this felt like the right thing.

She put the coffee on the bedside table and sat on the bed, heart suddenly beating quickly.

The movement of Raven sitting back down on the bed disrupted Manila, who blinked her eyes open and yawned, stretching. The movement then woke Raja, who groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow, disappearing under the duvet. Manila blinked and smiled sleepily at Raven.

“Good morning… oh! You made coffee!” said Manila, and she threw the covers off and made for the bedside table where Raven had put the little cups, “Oh my god, is that espresso?”

“Did somebody say espresso?” muttered Raja from deep in the blankets.

“Yeah, I made some,” said Raven, gently.

“That’s nice, you’re so sweet!” enthused Manila, kissing Raven on the cheek. Manila was shockingly perky, having been awake for less than one minute, “And I thought you were all mean and sexy last night…”

“She’s great. Keep your voice down,” muttered Raja.

Raven stifled a laugh, and sipped her own coffee. Manila crawled off the bed and threw on a robe, before sitting next to Raven and drinking her coffee in silence. Eventually, a long brown arm stuck out of the pile of covers that contained Raja, and Manila carefully put the cup of espresso into her hand. The arm retreated into the pile of covers almost cartoonishly. The only evidence of Raja’s existence was a small slurp and a happy sigh.

“I had a really nice time with you two, last night,” whispered Raven, putting a hand on Manila’s thigh.

“Aw thanks! I did too, and Raja as well,” replied Manila, quietly.

“Lovely, so… I can leave whenever, if you’ve got something you’re doing today-”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” replied Manila, smiling so that the edges of her eyes crinkled happily, “Neither of us have plans, you can hang out for breakfast, whatever suits you.”

“Right, well,” replied Raven, her heart glowing a little upon hearing she was welcome to stay, “I really need to shower.”

“Mmm, I think I’ll join you,” said Manila, putting down her cup down. They both glanced back at the pile of blankets and pillows that contained Raja somewhere deep within it.

“Yeah, she won’t be really awake for a while.”

-

Of course, Raven ended up on her knees in the shower eating Manila out against the wall. A truly good start to the day, Raven mused to herself as Manila squirmed and gasped, throwing her head back with pleasure. What could be better?

When they were finally done, they found Raja in the kitchen, starting to cook. The older woman had put her hair up on top of her head in a messy bun, wore dark-rimmed glasses and an elaborately patterned silk robe.

“Your glasses are too cute,” said Raven, as she towelled her hair dry. She was wearing a borrowed bathrobe, one of an apparently infinite supply, “Anything I can help with?”

“No, just sit there and look pretty,” replied Raja, with an affectionate smile.

“That’ll be easy.”

Breakfast was insanely good. It was better than any breakfast Raven had had in a long time, and she’d certainly worked up an appetite. Raja could really cook. They hung around the table for a while, chatting away about plans for the weekend and this and that. Eventually Raven changed, slipping her dress from last night back on, feeling a bit weird next to the other two, who were wearing relaxed weekend clothes. It was time to retreat to her own apartment and chill out.

“I think I’ll call an uber,” said Raven to Raja. Manila was checking her phone, and Raja was putting dishes in the sink.

“I can give you a ride,” said Raja, shrugging.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“Okay, thanks,” said Raven. She supposed it’d be worth it to save the eight dollars on the ride.

“Manila, you want to come?” asked Raja, half-turning towards the other woman.

“Ah, no, sorry I have to make a call in a few minutes,” said Manila, giving Raven an apologetic smile.

Manila then engaged in a drawn out goodbye with Raven, leaving her with lingering kisses and an exchange of numbers. Raja watched from the door, lacing up her shoes, and raised a single eyebrow. Then Raven got her little purse and left with Raja. Her high-heeled club shoes clicked along the floor of the hallway.

In the carpark under the building, they approached an ugly 90’s style green car.

“Wow, this thing is ancient,” joked Raven, sitting down on the worn passenger seat. But unlike Juju’s car that seemed to be always covered in empty takeout containers and random garbage, Raja’s was meticulously clean. Raven didn’t have a car, but everything she did was comfortably within either cycling or public transit distance, and for anything that wasn’t Juju would drive her.

“Yeah, so everyone tells me,” chuckled Raja, shifting into gear, “But it’s reliable, hasn’t died yet. I made it through Hurricane Katrina in this thing.”

“You can drive stick?” asked Raven, curious, “Also… what?”

“Yep,” replied Raja, winking, “And I’ll tell you that story sometime if you’re lucky.”

“Hmm.” Raven was impressed and she eyed Raja’s tattooed hand on the gearshift as she confidently manoeuvred the car out of the parkade into the street. The bright sun burst through the windshield, and reflected off of Raja’s white Tshirt.

“So,” said Raven as they drove, after she’d given Raja her address. She felt a bit exposed, without any makeup on and her hair still slightly damp from the shower.

“So,” replied Raja, smirking a little at Raven’s uncharacteristic hesitance, “Manila gave you her number, right?”

Raven nodded, and then she had no idea why she said it, but suddenly it was out of her mouth, “It turns out I distantly know her.”

“Oh yeah? From where?”

“She’s my friend Juju’s second cousin.”

Raja stiffened at the mention, shifting the clutch and accelerating through the green light, “You know her family?”

“No. She just happens to be related to her. Juju’s my best friend,” replied Raven, inwardly cursing. Why had she even mentioned it?

“How did you find out?”

“Checked out her instagram this morning, realized the connection,” Raven lied quickly, guilt flaring in her stomach.

“Right. Well. Manila’s family is pretty religious,” said Raja matter-of-factly, but Raven could see lingering resentment in her expression, “Let’s just say they don’t approve of us and leave it at that. Maybe don’t mention this to your friend.”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

Raven wondered if she could have handled that better. But then again, family was complicated.

They pulled up at Raven’s soon after that. Raven was having a hard time getting a read on Raja, so she decided to say exactly how she felt and Raja could interpret it however she so desired. They’d been quiet for the last few minutes of the drive. It was a beautiful day, thought Raven, looking out the window at the bright blue sky.

“Well, I had a great time with you two last night and I hope you stay in touch, I’d love to see you again,” said Raven, with a warm smile as she opened the door to get out.

“I had a good time as well,” said Raja, with a half-smile, “I, ah, just felt a bit weird with you bringing up Manila’s family. I’m basically suspicious of anyone who knows them since they’ve been so shitty to us over the years. But yeah, I like you too. Until next time.”

And then Raja leaned in and kissed Raven intently. Raven raised her eyebrows, surprised. And then Raja pulled back and gave her an absolutely filthy grin, and when Raven left the car she waved. Raven waved back and saw in Raja the same goofy energy as she’d seen in the childhood photo on her fridge. It was a bit of a shock after her cool exterior, but charming.

Hmmm. It seemed the night before had worked out in the best way possible. Raven opened the front door to her building and nodded pleasantly to her elderly neighbour, who looked her up and down disapprovingly.

Raven walked up the two flights of stairs towards her apartment, feeling thoroughly satisfied. She had work on Monday and a bunch of laundry and groceries and chores to do before then. Also, Juju would be back Sunday afternoon and she was looking to reuniting with her best friend after their brief time apart.

There was much to discuss.

-

The following morning she received a text.

You doing anything next weekend? :P

Raven raised an eyebrow and replied, new phone who dis

It’s Manila!!! Omg you’re the worst lol

that’s what they all say

hmmmmm i think i’m available friday ;)

Yay!! We’ll be in touch, Manila sent a quick photo of herself and Raja, a selfie in Raja’s car. Manila was sticking her tongue out at the camera and Raja was looking at something out of frame, light reflecting off her glasses. There were bags full of groceries behind them in the back seat.

Raven smiled down at her phone like a love-struck fool.

[staticscreenwriting]

casual moths - chapter five

Due to Tumblr not showing my stuff in the tags whenever I add links, I had to delete the links to previous chapter. Find them by adding /angel-reyes-fanfiction after my URL :)

If you liked this part and wanna help me out, please consider a reblog. Thank you.

Chapter five - mornings & myths

“ That is not right, who does that ? “

“ I do “

“ That’s ridiculous. That’s not how it works. “

“ Who makes the rules ? “

“ I uh — no one but it’s common sense. “

“ I’m 4 I don’t know what that means “

The bickering of voices wakes Callie from a deep comfortable slumber. Looking around, she’s met with the sun shining through the curtains and onto the couch. She must’ve fallen asleep here once her and Angel had gotten too cold on the balcony and decided to move it inside.

They just talked. For a long time about a lot of stuff. And though he managed to stay away from all club related business, he did allow himself to get vulnerable with her. He talked about his mother and EZ and how unappreciated and lonely he feels most of the time. And it broke her heart. It still breaks her heart.

He’s been nothing but wonderful to her and Daisy and to know that he doesn’t receive all the love he deserves, not even from his own family, sends a metaphorical dagger straight to her heart.

Talking about Daisy.

Her little giggles carry from the kitchen and echo through the house, followed by Angel’s low chuckles.

As Callie gets up and leans against the doorway to the kitchen, she is faced with a sight that makes a warm fuzzy feeling spread throughout her entire body.

Daisy is sat on a chair by the kitchen isle, big bowl of cereal in front of her and smile on her face as Angel leans against the opposite site of the counter making silly faces at her.

“ I don’t know who told you this but putting milk before cereal is coo coo crazy. “

“ It’s delicious ! “ Daisy replies and furrows her little eyebrows in mock offence.

“ It’s wrong, girly. Sorry but It’s wrong. “

“ Mommy says it doesn’t matter as long as I eat my breakfast “

“ Ya know what ? Your ma is probably right “ Angel agrees and there’s a smile spreading on his face, so warm and welcoming, as he looks at the little girl. It makes him look so at peace with life. He looks so soft and loving and much younger than his usual frown makes him look..

Callie finds herself wishing she could put that expression of ease and comfort on his face more often.

The scene before her make her wonder if things could ever be like this permanently. If maybe somewhere down the line, if things with her and Angel go that way and work out, she gets to wake up to this more often. To her kid smiling and her — her Angel smiling along.

This is something she never thought she’d get. Ever. And maybe the universe is feeling generous right now but if this is as good as it gets, she’s not going to complain any time soon.

Angel spots movement from the corner of his eyes and as his gaze lands on Callie.She looks at him in a way he hasn’t been looked at in forever. He can’t tell exactly what it is but there’s a warmth and a familiarity that he’s missed so dearly for so long.

“ Look who’s up “ Angel exclaims and nods his head towards Callie and making Daisy swing around in her chair to see who he’s talking about.

“ Yeah, you two are bickering so loud I had to come investigate. What’s the issue here, huh ? “

There’s a smile on Callie’s face as she walks into the kitchen. One that she can’t wipe off no matter how much she tells herself that this is silly.

“ Angel puts the cereal first, then the milk. “

“ Uh yeah, because that’s the only right way to do it. Do you know that your kid eats cereal all wrong ? “ Angel asks, lightly brushing his hand against Callie’s back as she passes him to pour herself a mug of coffee.

It sends little tingles down her spine. God, she feels like a teenager again.

But at the way Angel’s eyes sparkle. At the subtle shimmer they hold, she can tell those feelings of giddiness are more than reciprocated.

“ I know this but honestly, I’m happy she’s eating at all. There was a phase when she refused to eat anything that wasn’t red so I’m not complaining “.

Angel just nods his head at that. Makes sense really.

“ Sooo, what are you ladies up to today ? “

He can immediately see the flicker of excitement in Daisy’s face at those words.

“ Going to grandma’s “

“ Grandma’s huh ? Is it fun there ? “

“ So fun. Grandma has a dog and a pool. “

“ No way !”

“ Uh huh. Right mommy ? “

Callie mulls her next words over in her head. Maybe it is a dumb idea but maybe — maybe it is just what both her and Angel need.

“ Yeah we’re having a BBQ. Bunch of friends and family coming over. It’s a thing we do every other month. Just a small chill get together. Kids play in the pool, adults collectively make fun of my uncle or sister. You should — you should come “.

Angel is glad he isn’t taking a sip of coffee in that moment cause it sure would’ve come right back out in a great spit-take.

“ To your mom’s ? “

“ Yeah. Is that weird ? Oh god, it’s weird. I’m sorry. I just thought it would be fun and my family is great so I’m sure they would welcome you with open arms and I — god I’m sorry. “

To be honest, he feels flattered. No one’s ever liked him enough to take him to a family gathering. Hell, even his own family seemed more at ease whenever he decided not to show up to their family reunions. But it means a lot to hear Callie invite him. To know she wants him there.

“ Nah, it’s not weird it’s nice. I just — I can’t today.“

“ Angel you neeeed to come. You can see me swim and meet Lola. “ Daisy exclaims loudly.

“ The dog ? “ Angel assumes.

“ Yup. She’s a Labragor. “

“ A Labrador, baby. “ Callie corrects her daughter, unable to keep the smile off of her face.

“ You know what ? “ Angel says, though his words seem to be directed at Daisy, his eyes are solely focused on Callie’s, “ I’d really like that “.

And the both know he’s not talking about the dog.

“ Next time you let me know a bit earlier and I’ll clear my schedule. ‘kay little lady ? “

At the way she’s pouting slightly, Angel can tell Daisy isn’t 100% happy with that, but she’s nodding slightly so that’s a good sign. Knowing she’s upset he can’t come, makes him feel both bad and slightly flattered.

And then there’s that look on (Y/N)’s face and the was she says “ We’d really love that”. Like it matters. Like him being there makes all the difference to her. And maybe it does.

So he’d be there next time.

Promise.

-OOO -

Angel leans against the porch railing, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. There’s music loudly blasting through the clubhouse and it’s packed with people.

He’s still covered in grease and dirt from working at the scrap yard all day. When he said he couldn’t come to Callie’s family thing, he really meant it. Bush had been on his ass for a while now, telling him to put in more work and run off less often. And to anger his Pres is the last thing Angel wants to do. So all day has been spent fixing up cars, finding certain parts to sell to customers and getting increasingly more dirty and covered in grease.

Now that day has turned into night, the clubhouse is buzzing. There’s people everywhere. Dancing and drinking and making out and when usually he’d be one of them, right in the middle of it all, now he sits by the sidelines and watches. This has been the family he’s come to love so dearly for so many years. He never ever felt like he wanted to go home. There was nothing to go home to.

But as he sits there now, his mind wanders towards Callie and Daisy and he wonders what they’re doing now. Probably sleeping already or sitting on the balcony watching the stars. The same stars he can see from his place on the porch. And maybe they’re thinking of him too and wondering what he’s doing.

For the first time in a long time, Angel wants to leave the party early. To go and be with someone who’s door will be open. Whos arms will be open.

His eyes wander around the scrap yard. This life, his life, is so different to the little piece of heaven he got to experience with his girls lately. It’s loud and hard and rough and nothing like the soft touches,the small giggles, the affection and love that’s been poured onto him.

He wonders if there’s ever a proper way to combine the two worlds. To make Callie understand this part of him. To bring her around and introduce her to everyone. A single mother who owns a flower shop, really isn’t the kind of person to spend her time at motorcycle club parties. And yet, he so desperately wishes that there’s a solution to his problem. That somewhere in the future lies a path where he doesn’t have to choose between the two eventually.

The touch of long slender fingers against his shoulder, takes him from his daydream. And as he glances towards his left, there’s a girl he’s never met before, with eyes full of lust and longing.

“ Hi, I’m Lilly. “

If this was any other day, he would’ve had her on his lap by now, tongue touching her tongue. But it’s not.

Today he’s woke up cuddled to a woman he assumes must be an actual angel. He’s has breakfast with her and her kid who is as adorable as can be. He’s felt home. Felt it all the way to his heart.

There’s nothing Lilly can do for him.

“ Yeah? Well see that guy over there ? That’s EZ, he’s a prospect. He could use a good time.”

He doesn’t wait for her response, just finishes his drink and stubbs out his cigarette and moves through the clubhouse towards his room. He can still hear the music and the laughter but with his door closed, the world seems to slow down a little. Fumbling his phone from his pocket, he considers his next move for a moment. Surely Callie is asleep or at least lounging on the couch. Would she even want to talk to him at this time of the night ?

But then again, she hasn’t given him a reason to doubt it. She’s always welcoming, always warm smiles and soft touches and sunshine personified. Always.

He dials the number before his insecurities can rear their ugly heads and talk him out of it. God, he’s being ridiculous. This is straight up teenage behavior.

“ Hello ? “

Her voice sounds tired and raspy. Like she’s just woken up or at least has been close to sleep when the phone rang.

“ Hey, it’s me. Did I wake you ? “

“ Hi, Angel. Oh no, don’t worry “ she says and lets out a small laugh, he’s not sure he fully believes her but hearing her laugh makes all his guilt disappear. Hearing her laugh is worth it all. “ I was just sitting on the balcony, reading a book. “

“ Yeah ? Any good. “

“ Meh. Why are you calling ? You okay ? “

“ Yeah. Just — wanted to talk to you. “

He’s never felt like this about a woman before. Like he is missing something when she isn’t around. And maybe it’s delusional to feel like this after such a short time. But life is fucking ridiculous during the best of times. Maybe a little bit of disillusion and disregard for what people expect isn’t all that bad.

“ Oh that’s sweet. We really missed you today. Daisy has been talking people’s ears off about you. She adores you. “

His heart soars at that. If he can make Daisy love him. If he can win her over. If she, of all people, thinks he’s a good one, than that counts for something. She’s all good things. Sunshine and happiness and flowers and love. Making her like him, makes him insanely proud.

“ You girls had a good time ? Did she get to swim? Get cuddle the Labragor ? “ Angel asks, a low chuckle following his words.

“ She did. It was nice. My family can be a lot but I love them dearly. Technically Daisy can’t swim properly but she’s learning. She’s always wearing floaties and someone’s in the pool with the kids at all time so, yeah. I think she’s had a good day. ”

“ I’m glad. ‘m happy you’re happy. 

“ I wish you were happy too. “

“ I am. I’m getting there “  … and it’s mostly because of you. He wants to add that but doesn’t instead his brain conjures up a mush of words and thoughts and ends up with:

“ Can you see the stars ? “

It’s a terribly cheesy thing to say and Angel even scrunches his face in discomfort as the words leave his lips. It felt like his heart had a grip over his mind, over his mouth. His heart was speaking and the rest of him just had to sit and hope for the best.

“ I am yeah. Sky’s clear tonight. What about you ? “ she doesn’t take the piss. Doesn’t judge. Doesn’t even wonder about his question. Callie just acts like that’s a conversation they have every day. Maybe they should.

“ Nah I’m inside. I did earlier though. Wondered if you were watching them. “

“ Is this out thing now ? Watching the stars ? “

“ It could be. You know any cool star facts ? “

Callie is quiet for a moment before she speaks up again “ actually, I do ! “

“ You do, huh ? “

“ Yeah, well. It’s more of a story than a fact, really. You wanna hear about it ? “

“ Sure. “

“ Well, “ Callie starts, Angel is already hooked, “ I’m not sure if I have mentioned this before but my full name is Callista. And that name comes from the name Callisto. Callisto was a nymph from ancient greek mythologie. Zeus fell in love with her and they had a son. But you know Zeus, dude was already married to Hera. Hera got so angry she turned Callisto into a bear. She wandered the woods for years and years. Then one day Arcos, her son, went on a hunt and when she was him she got so excited that she ran up to him, completely forgetting that she’s a bear. Arcos was frightened, understandably, and drew his spear. Though Zeus saw all of this and wanted to prevent disaster. So he swooped down and lifted both of them up into the sky and turned them into constellations. That’s the ursa major constellation, the great bear. “

She’s a star. A constellation. Lighting up the sky when things seem dark and scary. It’s oddly fitting, he thinks. When that’s all she’s done to his life since she’s walked in.

“ You’re a star. “

“ I guess “ she giggles, only to be interrupted by a yawn forcing it’s way out.

“ And you’re tired. Go to bed, baby.”

“ Will I see you soon ? “

“ Sure. How about lunch tomorrow ? “

“ Sounds good. Come by the shop and we can decide on where to go. “

“ Alright. See you tomorrow, night babe. “

“ Night, Angel. “

When they hang up, he’s left in a comfortable silence. The party is still raging around him though Angel doesn’t really acknowledge it. All he can think of is her voice and her smile and the fact that she’s watching the same stars.

A little while later, Angel walks outside to get a drink. There’s a bunch of guys sitting around the table, getting tattooed by one of the club’s friends.

Ricky isn’t a good tattoo artist by any means but to most of the guys it’s not about the artistry. It’s the meaning behind the piece. It’s status. It’s sending a message.

And then a little bell chimes up in Angel’s head. It’s about meaning. About status. About wearing symbols of the things you like. The thinks you fear. The things you love.

“ Hey Ricky ? “ he calls out.

“ Yuh ? “

“ You any good at drawing stars ?

-OOO-

Callie Cordell goes to sleep with a smile on her face that night, longing for the sun to ride above to horizon and turn the night into day. Butterflies already swarming her tummy at the thought of seeing Angel again the next day.

Her mind is occupied with all things of happiness and joy. With thoughts of Angel’s eyes and the way he makes her blush.

All there is on her mind is him and the stars.

And not a single thought is given to the silver car parked just a few houses down the road. The one hiding in the shadows, sheltered between two houses and a big oak tree, engulfed by the night and untouched by the starlight.

- A note from Jo -

Hi guys, sorry no taglist this time. I’m assuming links are what’s caused my stuff not to show up in the tags. I will try and figure out a way to let people know when a new part is up though. The easiest way to stay updated is to follow my tumblr though, just sayin’ ;P

[ghostyprince]

title: pull me closer (until we collide)

word count: 4.646 rating: T fandom: BuzzF. Uns. relationship: Ryan B./Shane M. summary: Ryan is seemingly haunted by a spirit that just really wants to hold his hand.

author’s note:  Welp, this is certainly longer than I expected it to be, but oh well! I started this a few months ago and finished it literally today. Special thanks for my friendo @morganmorningstar for helping and test reading, love u dude ❤

[READ ON AO3]

Or read more here

It all started, when Ryan woke to something heavy settling on his palm. He and Shane were all alone in this very creepy house, filming another episode for Unsolved. It took Ryan like four hours of tossing and turning to fall asleep. The floor was too lumpy, or just when Ryan would finally drift off, he'd jerk awake to a knock, or quiet shuffling, that sounded like footsteps. After that, he'd be wide awake again, for at least half an hour, heart beating in his throat like crazy.

And there was someone or something touching him. When he jolted awake by the touch, his first thought was that it must've been Shane. Then, he remembered that Shane wasn't even in the room with him. And why would he be holding his hand anyway? (It might have been a little bit of wishful thinking on Ryan's part).

So naturally, his first reaction was to yell and jump out of his sleeping bag, getting tangled up in it in the process, and nearly twisting an ankle. He took several steps back, frantically looking around in the dark for any presence in the room. Everything seemed to be just as it was before he went to sleep, except for the tall figure standing in the doorway.

Ryan's whole body gone cold in a split second, only half-aware of the strangled noise that escaped his throat.

"Ryan?" The figure spoke, in a deep, scratchy voice that sounded a lot like Shane's. Oh.

"Shane?" Ryan hated how weak he sounded, still on high alert and uncertain.

"The one and only, baby. Well, technically there are a lot of- nevermind that, are you okay, little guy? Heard you screaming your head off." Ryan's eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out Shane's sleepy, but concerned expression as he leaned on the doorframe.

"Yeah, just... Something touched my hand while I was sleeping."

"Was it furry?" Ryan stared at him.

"What do you mean, was it furry?"

"You know, rats." Shane scrunched up his nose, and Ryan burst into a laugh, the unease seeped out of his body like it wasn't even there in the first place. Shane really just had that effect on him every damn time.

"I'm pretty sure I'd know if a rat would nestle itself on my hand, dude."

"Yeah, probably."

"It felt like- it felt like a hand." Ryan still felt the weight of it, and it made him shudder. It was so warm, much warmer than a human which was weird in itself, Ryan would've expected a spirit or whatever that was to be cold.

"I'm sure it was nothing, Ryan. Maybe you were just dreaming."

"I know I was awake, dude! I'm not staying here alone, fuck that. I'm moving to the other room with you." Ryan knew he shouldn't have been so snappy, and irritated, but he's scared and sleep-deprived and hated everything at the moment.

"Sure, if that makes you feel better." Shane shrugged. Ryan hoped it would. He grabbed the sleeping bag and his backpack following Shane to the room next door where he's stationed at. They left the camera recording in the Ryan was in, just in case, if there would be some activity later in the night.

Ryan set up his sleeping bag a few feet away from Shane, who was already climbing back to his own.

"'Night, Ry. Don't let the demons hold your hand." Shane said in a sing-song voice, his back is turned towards Ryan can see his shoulders trembling, in silent laughter. Dick.

"Shut up, Shane." If Ryan was grinning fondly, no one needed to know.

The second time Ryan felt the same hand-like weight settle on his own happened when he slept in the same room as Shane once more, on location. They were a good five feet apart, so even Shane with his long noodle arms shouldn't have been able to reach him. Ryan bolted up into a sitting position, jerking his hand back so fast, he hit himself in the chest. "Shane?"

He must've called out too silently, voice shaking too hard because Shane hadn't moved. If Ryan stayed very still he could barely make out his friend's soft snores. Of course, he was sleeping like a baby while Ryan was about to have a fucking panic attack from ghosts or demons wanting to hold hands with him.

"Well, this worked last time," he muttered, solely talking to himself at this point. He took a big gulp of air and stood up, legs shaking. He wanted to move quickly, but at the same time, he didn't want Shane to wake up and see him pulling his sleeping bag as close to Shane's as he dared. It would've been really fucking embarrassing, and Shane most certainly would've laughed at him.

As soon as he was close enough to Shane, so it calmed him down a little, he darted back under the cover of the sleeping bag, as if it would protect him. He made sure none of his limbs were hanging out and covered himself up to his nose, which thankfully wasn't too difficult considering his height. He could and would submerge himself in the sleeping bag entirely if he wouldn't need to breathe.

Sleep hadn't come for a long time for Ryan. He was uncomfortable and hot, but he was terrified whatever kept touching him would do it again if he'd peel the covers off himself just a little. It made his face burn in shame. He was acting like a child and they probably had to throw away half of the night footage because Ryan was acting like a baby.

Sometimes, he didn't know what Shane actually thought about him. They've been friends for years, best pals, and they've never talked about what would happen if Ryan was honest to God terrified one day. Sure, Shane genuinely tried to calm him down a few times, distracting Ryan with silly jokes, and asking if he was okay in that soft tone Ryan treasured to hear.

If something big were to happen, would he actually believe Ryan, though?

Because he was pretty sure 'something big' was real, and happening, and instead of waking him up just to find comfort in Shane's teasing, it made him afraid of being judged.

He cared a lot about his friend's opinion, even more so than he probably would've cared about some other friend's. Unsolved brought them closer than ever, but the show also widened the gap between them when it came to their belief system. Ryan didn't care most of the time, despite that, they were still a great duo. It was fine.

Until it wasn't, because he started developing, or perhaps resurfacing some feelings for that tall dork.

Feelings, he vaguely remembered carefully tucking away into the far corner of his mind, into the Never To Be Touched Again box.

And there he was, putting his hands all over it, letting it slowly consume him.

He knew he was overthinking, and all of these messy thoughts would seem ridiculous in the morning, but goddammit, Ryan was scared and guilty and sleep-deprived. He deserved to be a little dramatic.

That also didn't mean there was no truth to them.

If Shane noticed their sleeping bag was way closer to each other in the morning, he didn't say anything about it.

Ryan's Flirty Ghost Problem (as Shane lovingly referred to it) hadn't ceased, in fact, the occasions seemed to increase in number. The warm hand settled on his own every single time he tried to get some sleep outside of his home. Not just at locations, but in hotel rooms, at Shane's apartment at some point during one of their late-night editing session that turned into a sleepover. The only place he could actually feel safe sleeping at was his apartment. Whatever demon or ghost attached itself onto Ryan, it couldn't reach him there it seemed like.

He thought about the issue constantly, approaching it like he approached his True Crime research. The first few times it was a pretty terrifying experience, but it became obvious whatever was the cause, it didn't mean any harm. Ryan never felt threatened by the warm weight of that hand, even though his own paranoia still scared him a little when it happened.

He took notes of everything he knew or suspected so far. It wasn't human (Ryan was so sure of that), seemed harmless and only occurred when Shane was in close proximity to him. And that last point was the one that intrigued Ryan the most because Shane was the only constant in the situation.

He couldn't just confront him about it though, what would he even say? 'Hey dude, are you astral projecting your hand on mine when we sleep in the same room?' That makes no sense at all. He wanted to tell it to someone though, and Shane was his best buddy. Everyone else would think he was crazy.

Shane also made the mistake of asking and that's how they ended up at the library. They weren't filming, but Ryan had papers splayed out on the table in front of him. And Shane was sipping his coffee, all soft like he just woke up because it was eight in the damn morning, so he literally did just wake up.

"Ryan, this is so dumb, nothing is haunting you." Shane sighed after listening to Ryan rambling on about how a ghost attached itself onto him or whatever the hell.

"Then how do you explain it?" Ryan crossed his arms in front of his chest, narrowing his eyes at him and scoffing when Shane only shrugged.

"I don't know, Ry. It could be anything, you could just be..." He cut himself off before he could say anything insensitive.

"Hallucinating? Is that what you think? That I'm making all of this up?" He asked, looking so hurt, Shane's chest tightened.

"That's not what I mean at all. But it could have a logical explanation, it doesn't have to be ghosts. You've been really overworking yourself lately, I always tell you to get more sleep and eat enough, you have to take care of yourself, Ryan." Shane reached out to put a hand on his arm, and squeeze gently. He was more serious, seeing how much this incident actually affected Ryan.

"I know what I felt, Shane. And it keeps happening, I can't sleep anywhere outside my house and even then I keep waking up in the middle of the night every single day, because what if today it will happen in my room, too? I just want it to fucking stop." Ryan said quietly, he sounded so genuinely exhausted it nearly broke Shane's heart. He should've taken this more seriously from the beginning. Ryan was also staring at Shane's hand forgotten on his arm, so he pulled it away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Even when he wouldn't have minded to keep it there.

"Alright, give me the theories then, little guy! Who or what is your main suspect? I'll get my detective brain ready." Shane grabbed his red pen and flipped open his notebook, ready to connect some goddamn dots. He wrote Ryan's Flirty Ghost Suspects on the top of the page in big blocky letters and showed it to him, delighted by the laugh Ryan gave him when he read it.

"You're such an idiot," Ryan muttered, shaking his head a bit like he couldn't believe it himself. It was an insult, but Shane heard the fondness and gratefulness behind those words.

"Well, I didn't know how to bring it up, because you'll think it's stupid, but the main suspect is uhh- You."

"Me?" Shane's eyebrows nearly rose up to his hairline. "Why would I be holding your hand while you're trying to sleep?"

He laughed, way too nervously for his own liking. If Ryan figured out that Shane has feelings for him he'll have to deal with that right then and there and he wasn't even ready to fully accept those feelings himself, hoping that ignoring them would make them go away one day. It was about two years of constant pining later when he stopped hoping. The little fuckers weren't going anywhere.

"I mean, not you but it only seems to happen when you're around. And when you're also asleep. Probably. I don't know that yet." Ryan shrugged, helplessly. It did sound pretty dumb when he said it out loud, but it was all he could go by.

"Well, we're having a sleepover then. Your place, today. If your schedule is clear." Shane said, without giving it any consideration, and immediately regretting it. Well, he can't back out now, can he?

"What, why?" Ryan looked up from the process of gathering his papers, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Because we're going to investigate, that's why. We will test your theory. Sleep in the same room, at your place, so we can also check if it's ghost-proof or not."

"Alright, I'm in." Ryan shrugged, because what could go wrong?

A lot can go wrong, apparently.

"Come on, man you can't sleep on the couch, think of your back. It's almost even too small for me." Ryan snorted when Shane came up with the ridiculous idea of crashing on his couch. He spent a night on it, after having a little too much to drink to find his bedroom successfully. It was the most uncomfortable he felt in his life, the following day.

"Where would I sleep anyway? We wanted to test if we really need to be in the same room for it to happen.

"Good point." Shane sat up with a defeated sigh from where he was laying on the couch, legs dangling off the side. "What do you suggest then?"

"I don't know, the bed? We slept in the same bed before, it won't be weird." Ryan sounded like he tried to convince himself too.

"Sure, we can use the bed then." Shane stood and walked towards Ryan's bedroom, just like that. Like the thought of sleeping in the same bed with Ryan didn't make his hands shake with nerves or excitement, maybe a little bit of both, like it made Ryan's. And it probably didn't, Ryan thought, disappointment squeezing at his chest.

Shane's been only in Ryan's bedroom a handful of times, so it felt a little awkward, having him there and not for the reason of Shane pushing him down on the bed, kissing him silly. Ryan stopped that fantasy right there before it had gotten out of hand. Sleeping together would be awkward enough, he didn't need an accidental boner on top it all.

Instead, he focused his attention on the clothes strewn across his unmade bed, and on the chair in front of his desk, painfully aware of how messy his room was. They came here directly after work, hung out and watched a movie they both wanted to see but never had the time for.

"Sorry for the mess, I haven't had the chance to clean up," Ryan said, embarrassed, scrambling to clean the clothes off the bed and throw them into his closet as an impromptu attempt at cleaning. Shane put his hands on his shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. Ryan stared back, taken aback and vaguely aware of his face burning.

"Calm down, Ryan. It will be alright. I'm here so the ghost can't get you." He had this soft, barely teasing smile on his face and Ryan thought it was insanely unfair how handsome Shane was. How sweet and understanding, even when he thought all of what they were doing was horseshit. How could anyone possibly expect him to not fall in love?

"And anyway, if it turns out that I'm the ghost, you just have to learn to live with it." He added with a shit eating grin and let go of him.

"I'm not an expert but I'm pretty sure if you'd be a ghost you'd know about it, big guy." Ryan huffed, finding himself smiling fondly at his friend once again.

"You don't know that. Maybe I don't know I'm dead. It happens in movies all the time"

"I would know if you'd be dead!"

"You could be a figment of my imagination in the afterlife." Shane deadpanned.

"God, just shut up." Ryan snorted, shoulders shaking from laughter as he goes through his closet to find something for Shane to sleep in. Finding a shirt that fit was manageable, they were roughly wearing the same size. Pants, however, those are difficult. Anything that Ryan owned was most probably way too short and small for Shane. They never had this problem when Ryan was sleeping over at Shane's, all of his clothes are baggy on him.

"I can just sleep in my underwear if that's cool with you. It doesn't bother me." Shane suggests after a few moments of awkward silence of Ryan rummaging through his closet. He turned towards him, considering it for a moment.

"It doesn't bother me either," Ryan said, you know, like a liar.

"Shane, your elbow is digging in my back."

"Sorry." There was some shifting from behind Ryan, and then a knee was pressed against the back of his thigh.

"Still bad."

"Your bed is too small, I have to pull up my legs."

"My bed is normal sized, your fucking bone stilts are too long!"

"Stop insulting them, you'll hurt their feelings."

Ryan made a frustrated noise into his pillow and turned around to face Shane, they were closer than he thought they would be. He wasn't able to make out a lot of him in the dark, but Shane was definitely looking at him, he could see the outline of his messy hair, and one of his bony shoulders, his collarbone, peaking out from under the shirt, begging for Ryan to kiss it. His gaze flicked back at Shane's who was still just looking at him, with this unreadable expression that broke as soon as Ryan spoke, quietly.

"Here. This is better."

"Yeah, it is." Shane murmured, almost dazed.

It took a while for Ryan to fell asleep, Shane has been softly snoring next to him for a while before he could doze off too. Shane's breathing actually calmed him down a lot, it was something to focus his attention on, trying to sync it with his own and shortly, he was out like a light.

Until he woke up in the middle of the night, to the weight of a hand on his own. His eyes snapped open and he almost let out a yelp. A weak whimper was what came out instead, that he's really glad nobody heard when he realized Shane's arm was tucked under him, pulling him close in his sleep. His other hand rested gently on Ryan's own between them.

Ryan would've laughed in relief if he wouldn't have been chest to chest pressed against Shane, him breathing into Ryan's neck. Oh God, how was he supposed to go to back to sleep like that?

Somehow he managed to do so, convincing himself that if Shane's hand was on his the demon/ghost couldn't do shit. It sounded reasonable at three in the morning. As for the awkwardness of them basically cuddling, well, he thought morning-Ryan can deal with that. Sleep-deprived, 3AM-Ryan buried his face into Shane's hair, breathing him in, indulging in all that he can take before the morning comes and they probably won't ever talk about it again, in favor of not fucking up their friendship.

When the morning did come, Ryan hoped, before even opening his eyes, that Shane would stay, that they would talk, and maybe, if things go right they would make out, among other things. Once again, he painfully had to come to the realization that his life wasn't a Hallmark movie because Shane was gone. And no, he hadn't been in the kitchen, making breakfast, or in Ryan's small bathroom, running the shower. Ryan couldn't rush up to him and finally yank his stupid face into a kiss, so they could laugh about it later. Shane just fucking left and the dread that settled in Ryan's stomach stubbornly stayed there throughout the whole day.

What was even worse is that Shane had acted as nothing happened. He cheerily told Ryan at their desks that "You see, no ghosts were assaulting you,  I'm not related to your ghost-problem!"

Ryan had no care for the stupid ghost anymore. How was he supposed to ask Shane to explain himself when he had no right to do so in the first place? He could've asked Why were you gone in the morning? or You could've texted me at least. and most importantly,  I wanted you to stay.

Instead, he laughed, and shut his mouth, afraid of the answers he'd receive. And that was it, they both gone back to staring at their screens. They were back to square one then, always afraid to take the final big step, that leap of faith, because Ryan was kind of a coward.

But then Ryan realized something, as he looked at Shane, really looked at him. His usually elegantly messy hair was even more of a disaster like he kept carding his hands through it the whole morning. His eyes were tired too, for someone who had enough sleep, Ryan should know, he was right there. Shane acted well put together, but Ryan realized right then and there that Shane was kind of a coward too.

When Ryan finally decided to get his head out of his ass and kiss Shane, they were staying overnight at a supposedly haunted cabin just at the edge of the endless forest behind it. It was creepy as hell, to say the least, so Ryan was glad the cabin had only one room, where they put down their sleeping bags, closer to each other than they normally would, because it was pretty chilly out there.

None of them made a big deal out of it when it was time to go to bed they set up the night cameras and a comfortable silence fell upon them, only broken by one of them quietly snorting at something they saw on social media.

Ryan doesn't remember falling asleep, but he was certainly woke up by an arm around his waist, and a hand on top of his. Similarly to that night, he woke up cuddled up to Shane. Ryan didn't even open his eyes, his racing heart somewhat calmed down, because it was just Shane, but holy fuck it was Shane. Ryan didn't know what exactly gave him the courage, it could've been the fact that it was probably around 2 or 3 AM, and everything felt less real. He knew if he didn't kiss Shane then and there, he'd never do it.

So he leaned up, eyes still closed, aiming for Shane's lips. He mostly got it right, but he wasn't prepared for how abnormally hot they felt. That's when Ryan realized that something was very wrong. He opened his eyes. It wasn't Shane looking back at him, but a pitch black person shaped mass instead. It had horns, and bright red eyes, boring right into his soul.

There was silence for a second, then two, then Ryan screamed, scrambling backward, away from that demonic thing, and Shane right behind it, who bolted right up into a sitting position, woken by Ryan screaming fucking murder in the middle of the night.

"What the hell, Ryan? Are you okay?"

Ryan barely heard him over the blood rushing into his ears at the sight of the demon gradually phasing onto Shane, melting into him as if it belonged there. And Shane wasn't affected by it at all, still staring at him, concerned and lips moving, the words never reaching Ryan. He just saw his friend get possessed, with his own two eyes and he felt like he was gonna pass out.

Suddenly Shane was in front of him, hands on Ryan's shoulders, telling him to breathe and it felt like Ryan was slammed right back into his body, he was breathing again, taking big gulps of air.

"I think I kissed a demon." Was the first thing he blurted out when he finally felt stable enough to talk.

"What?" Shane starts laughing, and sure, the sheer panic which he said that with is kind of funny, but this was serious stuff. And oh God, Shane was probably possessed and Ryan didn't know what the hell to do.

"Ry? Calm down, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here." Shane's voice had gone soft, and deep, his thumb rubbed soothing circles into Ryan's shoulder. "Tell me what happened, alright?"

"I woke up to uh, someone hugging me. I thought it was you. And when I opened my eyes, it was this black mass, with red eyes and- and horns. I think it was a demon, it must have been. And I think- are you possessed? I just saw the thing going inside you when you woke up. It's- I'm terrified, dude. Please tell me you're not possessed."

Ryan just noticed how violently he was shaking and gripping Shane's arms desperately.

"I'm not possessed, I promise. I'm alright, see?"

Shane's smile hadn't quite reached his eyes, it was gone as soon as it showed up, leaving his lips in a thin line. In the faint light of the flashlight of Shane's phone that he probably turned on when Ryan was freaking out he could see how pale he was. He almost looked scared, which definitely didn't soothe Ryan's nerves.

"What's going on Shane? You know something that I don't."

"Did you just try to kiss me?" Shane asked, blatantly avoiding the subject. "You said you thought I was the one hugging you and then you kissed it. Does that mean you wanted to kiss me?"

"I- yeah? I do," Ryan stammered, eyes wide and possibly just as scared as he was two minutes ago. "But that's not the point now, stop avoid-"

Shane's lips were on his, effectively shutting him up and Ryan lost all of his willpower, melting into him. Every thought and worry he previously had got thrown out the window because Shane fucking kissed him, he even chased after Ryan's lips after he had to pull back to breathe, and that was a hell of a thought.

"I'll explain everything. Later, not now. I'm not possessed, you're not haunted and I've been a little in love with you for years now." Shane was smiling, he looked just as hopeful as Ryan felt.

"Okay, fine. I'm probably crazy, but I trust you. By the way, I'm a little in love with you too," Ryan huffed, his heart picked up the pace again, because fuck, everything got so real all of a sudden. The way Shane grinned at him was so worth that confession, he would say it over and over again just to see him smile like that for the rest of his life. He sure had it bad, and he couldn't even care, his heart was so full for this idiot of a man in front of him.

"But if you stab me in my sleep I will haunt your ass so hard, Shane, I swear to God!"

"Is that a metaphor for something? Haunting my ass real hard? Sounds kinky." Shane winked, just to annoy him. Ryan bristled, clearly giving Shane the reaction he was looking for because he had that smug grin on his face again and Ryan was amazed by the fact that he's allowed to kiss it off whenever he pleases.

"Shut up, you're such an asshole."

Shane indeed shut up, pressing his lips against Ryan's again. And again, and again until none of them felt the need to saying anything else.