#got inspiration from a post on twitter of a guy holding his drink by the pool saying “this and a fight with my mom”

[butternubsart]

A mother's work is never done ...

[moorishflower]

aulon raid (Hob/Dream)

this is a fic about worship and wanting to beat the shit out of nazis

it's inspired by Bishop Marcellus of Apamea and those twitter posts about the guy in the crust punk bar

Sometimes, and especially around holidays, when the University is quiet and bereft of students, Hob tends the bar at The New Inn.

Dream sits and watches him, how he moves so easily from patron to patron; conversation comes to him as naturally as breathing. He does not think it of himself, but Hob Gadling is a born storyteller, a man whose mere presence evokes memory and description.

A young woman with mascara smeared in runny lines beneath her eyes drinks shot after shot of tequila and tells the story of her now-ex-boyfriend while Hob leans across the bar, the rakish line of his spine and hips and buttocks at odds with his concerned expression. When she orders another drink, Hob touches her hand and murmurs something inaudible. She shakes her head, and he repeats it, insistent, and finally she relents. This story has a happy ending, Dream knows – she does not try to drive herself home. She avoids a car accident that would have left her sunk so deep in the Dreaming she would never wake.

Two men in their fifties order cosmopolitans – they knock their shoulders together, they laugh, they lean their heads close. Hob brings them their drinks, and one man raises his left hand to show off the ring on his finger. Hob is interested, lively, congratulatory; the man tells the story of how he and his new husband met, thirty years prior. It’s full of in-jokes and hidden, meaningful glances, of love sought in dark times, watching friends die, lovers die. Hob is sympathetic. “I remember,” he says, and both husbands laugh. “Really! I’m older than I look. I got my father’s good genes.”

This story also has a happy ending. These men are married. They have passed through dark shadows into bright sunlight, and will live the rest of their natural lives together. It is a story that might never have been told aloud but for The New Inn, a mixed drink, a friendly ear.

This place is a temple, Dream thinks. This place is a monument to human experience which Hob raised from dust and sorrow, shrouded the bones of his regrets in the living-skin of storytelling. He built this temple for Dream.

He sits at the bar and watches Hob go about his work. It has been several months since he set foot in this place for the first time, a warm summer day, a reunion, a friendship. “A hundred years, then?” Hob had asked, and Dream does not profess to truly read the minds of men, but even in that single sentence he had heard the trepidation.

“I have been told,” he’d said, “that friends meet more often than once a century.”

Once a year, he had thought. Perhaps more often, if Hob were amenable to visits in his dreams. How quickly that had changed – Hob is passionate, ebullient, he pours joy into every room in which he treads. Once a month had become twice, and then once a week. Come over for lunch, he’d said. Come over for tea. Do you like McVitie’s?

People dream of tea, of biscuits, the intimate ceremony of sharing a drink with a friend. Hob demonstrated for him how to dunk the chocolate digestives into his tea, and Dream did not tell him that he sees the long, unspooling thread of time stretching out before and behind them, that tea is a far more ancient thing than even Hob, that he has personally witnessed countless dreams of nearly this exact act performed by monarchs, celebrities, poets.

He watched Hob hold the biscuit in a delicate thumb and forefinger grip, and found it special because it was Hob.

If Dream be the Prince of Stories (and he is, and shall be, forever), then this, surely, is the happy ending: a bar built in his name, a tale uttered in his presence, a friend setting a drink before him and smiling. He has dwelt so long in the dark that even this simple kindness seems outrageous. More than once he has felt a too-familiar sting in his eyes.

Hob has never once begrudged him.

“All right, Dream?”

Hob is there when he looks up, his head ducked down to try and see under the fall of Dream’s hair, his eyes soft and concerned. It is nearly eleven o’clock, and Hob’s relief does not come until one; he looks tired, but no less friendly for it.

The thought sidles into Dream, a quiet thief, a cat at midnight: I want to kiss him. He wants to kiss the rough-stubbled cheek and the expressive lips, touch his tongue to the chapped spot on the lower where Hob has nipped himself raw, he wants to put his hands in soft clean hair and tilt his head back and drink all the gentle sounds he suspects Hob will make, sighs and groans and lustful exultations.

He takes the shot that is being offered. He sips it, because it is polite, and because it pleases Hob, whose expression is moved from concern to an aching soft fondness.

“Listen,” he says. “I know you keep your secrets, and that’s fine. More than fine. Just knowing your name is more than I ever thought I’d get. But if you want to talk, about anything…I’m here. For you.”

Dream is not a god, but nevertheless, in this temple built in his honor, he has been a cruel god. His most earnest and honest worshiper has gone six-hundred years not even knowing to whom he has prayed. Again, he feels the wanting, to kiss Hob across this bar, to whisper ardent forgive mes into his pleasing mouth. I will be different, he could say. I am already different.

The drink is sweet, spicy, warming. He licks his lips and chases the taste of cinnamon and almond, is surprised to find the rest of the shot is already gone. Hob looks terribly smug.

“Cinnamon toasty,” he says, and Dream pages through a narrow sea of dreams, warming drinks had with friends, winter holidays, the clink of glasses. Schnapps and amaretto. “It’s simple, but lovely for this time of year.”

Inside, The New Inn is warmth and comfort. At some point he will return to the Dreaming, where memories of snow have made themselves at home in a thick blanket over the palace grounds. For now, he gazes up at Hob and thinks of supplication; his wanting covers him like a dense winter jacket. He would lay this man out on the altar he has built, and in full sight of all other adherents he would profess him holy. He would kiss the center of his forehead, he would anoint him in the oils of this temple: water, sugar, hops, words and words and words.

The front door opens, and Hob is staring at him, his eyes first squinting, and then widening. More than a hundred years of nothing but his own reflection, and Dream has fallen out of the practice of mimicking human expression. Something must show in his countenance, and it sends a pang through him like a bare foot on broken glass, sudden, sharp, unwanted.

A person sits beside him at the bar, and Hob blinks, and his gaze skirts aside. Dream forces himself to affect breathing, and finds it, absurdly, comforting. To hone on the simple mechanical action of lungs and throat and nostrils.

“No,” Hob says. Dream refocuses, watches Hob sway back from the bartop, affront creeping across his face, disdain stealing through his mouth. He is not looking at Dream, but at the man who has sat beside him. “Get out.”

“Hey, I’m not doing anything. I’m a paying customer.”

“Don’t care. I said out, now.” There is thunder in his voice. There is an old and scarred-over hatred. There is anger. Hob reaches for a baseball bat that leans against the wall behind the bar, and Dream has never considered its use before, but now he understands.

In ancient dreams he has watched the destruction of a temple, a Bishop stood apart, waiting to pass judgment. He has watched this man committed to the fire by the very pagans he sought to subjugate. He has felt their fervent belief, he knows the shape of what they would do to defend their temple, their gods, their holy words.

Hob lifts the bat an inch higher, and the man gets up from his seat. His arms are lifted in defiance; Hob is broad-shouldered, straight-backed, his forearms are corded in muscle and there is the white line of a scar on his cheek from a longsword that has long since crumbled to dust, and yet Hob still remains. His hair is tied back in a small bun; he is filled with righteous fury.

“Fuck you,” the man is shouting. The two husbands have huddled together at the other end of the bar. The girl who will live tonight, and tomorrow night, and hundreds of nights after, has gotten up and moved closer to the door. “Everywhere else is closed, I just wanted a drink. Fucking fag lover bar. Not worth my money. Fuck you.”

“Get the fuck out,” Hob says, and the bat comes up, and he starts to step around the bar. He crackles with an energy that only Dream sees, but is easily felt by all who’ve set foot in this holy place. It is restrained violence, devout intensity, it’s faith.

The man leaves, shouting and swearing. His dreams are petty, arrogant things for a petty and arrogant man – tonight he will visit Dream’s kingdom and find nothing waiting for him but nightmares. So it goes.

Hob leans the bat against the wall. He pushes back a lock of hair that has fallen into his eyes, his bun come just a bit undone, messy and loose when he slides back in front of Dream.

“Sorry,” he says, “you had to see that. I swear, there’s more and more of them every year.”

“Them?”

Hob tilts his head towards the door. “Dunno if you saw his vest. Iron crosses, sig runes. Just a load of nazi shit. Hate that I have to devote part of my brain to remembering all their stupid little secret symbols.”

The husbands are bent close together again, talking quietly. The girl with the mascara has stepped outside; she is calling a cab. Hob is once again focused on him, wholly, irrefutably.

“You have to kick them out right away,” he says, musing. “It’s always a nice one at first, and you don’t want to cause a scene. And if you let them become a regular, then they bring a friend who isn’t so bad. At first. Then the friend brings friends, and they bring friends. And suddenly you’re a nazi bar, and they outnumber you.”

He rocks back on the balls of his feet, tucking his thumbs into the band of his jeans. Soft blue denim. A shirt for a football team that Dream does not care to recognize. He has gone sweet and soft once more, no hint of the reddened anger, the offense at the liberties that man had dared to take.

“You would defend this place so ardently?” Dream asks. He feels his voice like the rumble of a volcano. There is a fire in him, stoking higher and higher; he yearns, he wants, he turns towards Hob as mankind once turned towards the divine. “At the risk of injury to yourself?”

Hob tugs at his ear, a familiar gesture. His cheeks are flushed, Dream notes. He feels the edges of a daydream creep along the edges of himself – soft hair as black as midnight, a pale mouth opened in a gasp, a voice in his ear: You need not have come to my defense.

“Can’t die, remember?” Hob’s hand falls back to his side. He looks, suddenly, nervous. “Besides. Can’t have you visiting me in a bar full of nazis. Last thing I wanted when I built this place for you.”

And there it is, so plainly spoken that it hurts to think about. This place for you. This temple of stories, this pagan tribute, this venerated hall.

“Hob,” he says, and the man leans forward, his nervousness becoming concern at the shake in Dream’s voice, the resonating burr.

He reaches across the bar and grabs a fistful of Hob’s shirt. It is an easy thing to drag him forward, to stand up on the tips of his toes to give himself the best leverage, and Dream leans over the empty shotglass and finds the mouth that blesses him. He wants to climb atop this bar and drag Hob down onto him, wants to feel the heavy figure ground him in earthly delight. He wants to have Hob kneeling in front of him, he wants to kneel, he wants to take Hob inside his body, he wants to consecrate this place with the severity of his longing.

He settles for a kiss, for slotting his mouth to Hob’s mouth, the rough chapped patch, the warm scent of his breath, a hand cupped to Hob’s cheek against day-old stubble. He sweeps his tongue through and tastes devotion – it tastes like almonds, sweet and subtle. 

At the other end of the bar the husbands erupt in claps and whistles, and Hob draws away, his eyes wide and dark, his lips reddened.

“I’m,” he starts to say and his voice croaks. He tries again. “I am so sorry, everyone, but we’ve got to close early. Maintenance reasons. Right.”

“Looks like the maintenance has been a long time coming,” one of the husbands says. They’re finishing their drinks, they are standing to leave, they are looking at each other with unconcealed affection and no small amount of lust. Tonight, they will dream of each other. Tomorrow, they will tell the story of two young men in a bar, the flush of new love, of one coming to the defense of the other. He feels it like a pleasant bruise, a story about him.

“Dream,” Hob says. The name is benediction in his mouth. Traversing around the bar will take far too much time. Dream hoists himself up onto the bartop, sending the shotglass spinning away, and Hob is laughing, “You lunatic, I haven’t wiped it down yet, it’s sticky.”

He doesn’t care. In this hallowed place, this blessed temple of song, Dream pulls Hob closer and finds his mouth once more, wraps his arms around the strong shoulders, gets his hands into the remains of the messy bun and pulls it into loose silk over his fingers.

Hob tells the story of them with mouth and tongue and fingers tripping over bare skin, and Dream, worshiped, worshiping, listens.

[roo-bastmoon]

Tin Foil Hat Time!

Okay.

Let me start by saying this post right here is prolly full-tilt delulu and really not meant to be taken super seriously. But put your tin foil hat on and come with me...

Ready?

Here's a photo that JK's brother uploaded on Christmas Eve to his Instagram. It's adorable. Please take note of the gray travel pillow resting on top of a blanket that seems to have some blue and white stripes in one little section.

And here's a photo Jimin uploaded on Christmas Eve on WeVerse. Please take note of the gray travel pillow resting on top of a blanket that seems to have some blue and white stripes.

It's probably nothing.

There's plenty of gray pillows and striped blankets in the world. Right?

We absolutely cannot go around saying that Jimin spent the holidays with Jungkook and his family.

But now, we also can't NOT say that.

Again, I gotta stress: probably just a coincidence. Coincidences happen.

But let's just keep in mind that we only catch a glimpse, a little sliver, of their actual lives. Eventually, more always comes to light, but sometimes it takes months or even years for them to share the details with us, if at all. Someday, Jimin might mention that he was with JK and his brother on Christmas, and it would not be totally out of left field.

Since coming home from Vegas, when the press published news about Jimin's apartment "seizure," we haven't seen Jikook ride in cars, glom all over each other, or hang out together in public off schedule. And that's a steep departure from the Jikook we saw in the past.

But we have seen dropped honorifics, watching each other carefully, inside jokes and pop culture references, wearing similar jewelry, hugs and hand holding, teasing the hell out of each other, knowledge of each others' diets and drinking habits, plenty of affectionate interactions, and very. intimate. birthday. posts.

Sometimes we see very, very little... but when we do see it--the vibes, y'all.

Of course, their vibes don't mean they are dating. But the silence also doesn't signify a breakup. Whatever their status is, they are absolutely okay with each other. We can all see they are very much more than okay with each other.

And maybe possibly perhaps they still hang out with each other quite often, but they are just not sharing it with the public, considering the terrible invasions of privacy and god awful threats of violence that occurred this year.

Then there's just weird coincidences that might mean nothing. Like the way Jimin got YOUTH tattooed behind his ear, and later that's where JK chose to get his 7. Or the way JK's moon has craters in and Jimin's... well... take a look at this:

Kinda looks like a moon couple tattoo, if you squint. But it could just mean they really like the same kind of art style. *shrug* They did get them at different times and we know Taehyung inspired Jimin by showing him fan art... It could be related, or not. They do sometimes use the same artists. I guess it's open to interpretation, much like everything with these two.

The same way that CCTV footage of JK in a convenience store back in October with someone dressed all in white kinda looks like Jimin to me. Looks like his height, his shoulders, his fingers, his hat. But we can't see his face, so it could just be another member or non-BTS friend. (I'm not gonna post it because it's their private time and taken without consent, but it made the rounds on Twitter this week and initially folks were saying it was Taehyung in the store. Of course it is possible that Taehyung and Jungkook were at a mini mart close by Jimin's apartment in October, but, the camera angle made Tae look super short if so.)

What's my point? Do I have a point? Get to the point, Roo!!

Can I say for sure Jikook are a thing? No. And it would be super irresponsible of me to do so.

But it would also be premature for me to say for sure they aren't close any more.

Okay, now you guys can take your tin foil hats off, and put your birthday party hats on.

It was Tae's birthday and Jimin brought that soulmate energy in full force, of course. Even though there was no live to end the great bear/tiger cake debate of 2022, Jimin still posted several times on WeVerse and even dug around and found his Insta password, lol.

This photo was likely taken by JK the day that Vminkook played basketball in the rain in In The Soop.

And Tae seemed to appreciate it a lot because he commented "I love you" right under that post:

This alone should be enough to stop the ship wars. This alone should shut the haters up about fanservice and fake friends. I know it won't but... it's clear as day, whether we see them hang out or not, that these guys all love each other.

As Army, we should honor that and trust them.

Love,

Roo

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 14)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 2525

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong​

**Song Inspiration: I Almost Do by Taylor Swift; 3AM by Halsey; When The Party’s Over by Billie Eilish

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

When you woke up, you felt like shit, and not because of the drugs and alcohol that only recently vacated your system. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Did you really kick Hayden out? Were you honestly that far gone? 

Yeah, he broke your heart. He wasn’t the first asshole to do it, but he did stick around. Maybe that was because he had to though.

No, you knew better. He had enough money to stay at a hotel, but he stayed with you. He cared about you. It just hurt so bad to not have him any more. You hadn’t said you loved him, not yet, but you did, you loved him with everything you had and he just… broke everything. 

 Maybe you should go apologize.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you slipped on a comfortable shirt and yoga pants before you trodded out to the guest room, Hayden’s room. You knocked on the door before poking your head in. 

Only, there was nothing there. All of his things gone. His suitcases absent. No note, no letter, not even a post-it note. 

A choked sob escaped you. You knew you kicked him out, but you gave him until the next night. He was already gone?

So much for staying. So much for caring. 

No text, no call, no letter. It seemed as if he truly did want to be gone from you. 

Fine. If that’s the way he wanted it… Wish granted. 

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

Months went by and you tried to forget him, tried to turn your pain into art.

Trey worked hard to get your EP ready. You had several tracks that you wanted to feature and he did enjoy your lyrics and tune. He was happy to work with you and the other members of your band to get the sound you wanted. 

By the time the singles were released, you were already becoming a hit. You hit all of the media platforms and your work exploded, sending you soaring to the charts. You weren’t quite topping them yet, but you were definitely being demanded on the radio and your Youtube and Spotify numbers were great, rising all the time. 

As time went on though, your addiction only grew. With Hayden out of your life, the glaring reminders that you lost all your old friends, and none of your old boyfriends seemed to ever love you, there was nothing to stop you from becoming nearly dependent on the drugs and alcohol. 

You’d never been like this in your life, but you’d never been at such an odd time in your life either. On every romantic and personal front, your life was a total flop, a zero sum. But your career, your dream job was finally taking off. The world was your oyster, you were rubbing shoulders with musical big wigs, meeting huge names and musicisinas. 

Between the complete amazement you were in from being discovered and having your heart broken for the last time, you were a mental mess. 

Hayden wasn’t just another guy. Jason was just another guy, just like every ex before him. 

But Hayden, he was different. When you and Jason split up, it wasn’t the man you mourned, but the death of yet another relationship. With Hayden, you missed him, not being together. You missed the light he brought to your life. You missed the way he supported you. You missed the way you two could joke about movies together. You missed how you could act completely goofy and silly and he joined in. 

You loved him, you were in love with him, and he pulled the rug out from under you.

That was why your habit of using coke was slowly getting worse. You managed to keep your job, for a while, keep the desires away. Then you started to get where you were barely sober for that too and just when your boss mentioned it, you decided it was time to leave anyway. You put in your two weeks and left gracefully.

As soon as you were no longer tied to the hotel, Trey put you in every lounge, venue, and club he could find. You were singing all of your songs on your EP. Every night you did a show, you got off the stage, got drunk or high, or both, and then you crashed. 

Same routine, every night. 

Anything to numb the pain of losing Hayden, of feeling like your life was in shambles. It wasn’t just losing Hayden, it was realizing you had no close friends, no one else to lean on. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, your lover. He was everything you ever wanted or needed, and he was gone. 

Neither of you had sent any messages to each other. It killed you, but you had to move forward, if that’s what you could call drowning your sorrows in a bottle or a baggie. 

Tonight, you just got done singing a set and you were hanging out with Darren, Veronica, Brad, and Tai. Unbeknownst to you, Hayden was actually about to make a stop by this bar. He had some contacts in your circle, a few people he knew in the music world that he asked to keep an eye on you, and if you got too out of control or needed help, they should let him know. He also watched your Instagram and Twitter, keeping an eye on your partying that way.

He’d gotten a few texts before about you, just an update on how you were, but tonight was a red alert from a guy that was somewhat in your circle. He watched you as you did a bump of coke, drink whatever was passed to you, and you were all over everyone in the bar. It was a sloppy mix of drunk-high. You held onto everyone, laughing, trying to crawl on the bar, making a complete ass of yourself. 

Typically your antics were cheered on because everyone in your scene was pretty wild, but even tonight some of them were worried about how you were acting. 

Hayden made his way downtown as soon as he got the text, looking for the bar. Finally, as he walked by, he saw you through the window. You were laughing, throwing your head back, hanging on other people, and trying to dance. 

You were a mess, and that was obvious. 

He pressed his lips into a thin line before going into the bar. He made his way over to you. He wanted to say he felt relief when he saw you, but he didn’t. He just felt worse. He wasn’t an idiot about your drug abuse, he also wasn’t stupid to see what had triggered it. He just thought it was stupid for you to get mixed up in this shit over him. He wasn’t worth it. 

He could see how it was affecting you. Dark circles painted your eyes, your clothes hung loosely on your body, you looked as if you were awake solely from the drugs. He hated how bad you looked.

“Hey,” he greeted loudly over the bar music and patrons. 

You looked over and saw him, your eyes going in and out of focus. “Oh my god, it’s you! Hey! Stay! Have a drink!” you encouraged as you fell all over him, putting your arms around him. In your current state, none of the pain that would’ve normally come from seeing him happened. 

“Hey, no, I’m good. This isn’t really my scene. Y/N, you seem really far gone, do you want me to take you home?” 

You pushed away from him, frowning. “What? No, why would I want that?” You reached in your purse and grabbed something, about to put it in your mouth. “I’m having a good time here, Hayden. You should try it,’ you urged giddily.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he demanded as he slapped the little white thing out of your hand. “Was that fucking E? On top of what you already have in your system?”

“The fuck is your problem?” you ordered, angry.

“My problem is you destroying your life and your body,” he informed.  “I’m taking you home,” he stated firmly. He started to turn you around and push you outside. Everyone started to look your way. 

“No, you aren’t!” you protested loudly, moving wildly, but he just persisted. He went around in front of you, grabbed your wrist, and tugged you outside and started walking you down the sidewalk until you got yourself free of his hold. “Jesus! What the fuck is your deal? Those are my friends. I’m having a good time!” 

“A good time?” he demanded, his voice reigned in anger. “You think this is a good time? You’re out of your fucking mind.” 

“Hey, Mr. Entertainment Business newsflash,a  party-girl image is great publicity. Trey encourages this so long as I’m fine to record.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that your producer endorses you getting high and drunk, as long as you’re off the clock.” 

“You aren’t my handler, you’re not my parents, yo’re not my baby sitter, so just fuck off.”

He stared at you, clenching his jaw. “If you want to stay here and become like---If you want to stay here and party, that’s fine, but I’m done. I’m done with this. I’m done watching you ruin your life and throw so much potential away. I’m not gonna stick around to watch you drive your self into rock bottom when I’ve tried like hell to get you to wake the fuck up.”

“You didn’t stick around! Newsflash, asshole! You left! You left me high and dry.” 

“You kicked me out!” he reminded. “After I tried to approach you about your addiction. And I did stick around, you just didn’t know it.” 

“You didn’t approach me about it, you attacked me about it. Besides, what the hell do you mean you’re not going to stick around or watch me? You haven’t been around.” 

Letting out a sigh, he ran his hand down his face. “When I left, I may have asked some friends to keep an eye on you. I told them to update me if you were getting worse or better.”

“You were spying on me?” you asked, gasping.

“No, I just had people keeping an eye on you. If they were at the same party or something, they’d just let me know how you were doing.”

“Oh, nice to know you cared so much,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. You were getting more and more sober with the fresh air and the anger.  

“I do care. I think I’m the only one you know who does’ fucking care about you. I’m the only one not letting you just become an addict. I’m fighting for you.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing when you broke up with me? Fighting for me?”

He glared at you. He didn’t want to have this conversation. “Yes, I was. I was trying to make sure we were making the right choice.”

“Oh, spare me the bullshit!” you shouted, your head falling back. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of the lies. Just be honest with me. You didn’t care about me, you didn’t love me, you wanted a rebound. You weren’t worried about the both of us. You’re just like everyone else. You wanted something to distract you from your ex leaving you and I was the perfect replacement. Then when you got bored, you cast me aside.” 

“You weren’t a replacement! You weren’t my rebound,” he yelled. 

“Then what was it?!” you screamed. “Because from where I stood, you and I were perfect, more than perfect. We could spend time with each other, lean on each other, support each other, we lived together, I met your child, we had date nights all the time and all of that just -- you ended it. Without warning. We didn’t even talk about it. You didn’t even ask me how I was feeling, if I cared about you. You just decided for the both of us that it would be better if this wasn’t a rebound. But it wasn’t ever about that. It was about me taking putting someone else before me like I always do, and I’m the one who got fucking hurt, not you.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry that you got hurt. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It hurt me too. And it hurts like hell to watch you do this to yourself. You think I liked watching you come home high and drunk all the time?” 

“I don’t imagine it bothered you too much. We weren’t dating any more.” 

He shrugged. “So? Just because I’m not dating you, it doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit about you.”

“See, in my world, it does. You don’t break someone’s fucking heart then try to tell them you still care. You’re the one who decided to date me. I asked, you shot me down. Then, when I was really happy, when I thought this was real, that we had a shot, that this was something that would last and you just ripped it away. No conversation.” 

He shook his head. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for that. I am. I should’ve talked to you, but is this really what you want? You want to be so numb and fucked up on drugs you can’t function?”

“I can function just fine, thanks for checking in!”

“I can’t believe you’re fine with this. You’ve been so strong since I met you. Going after your dream, working hard at your job, you never would’ve given into this bullshit, despite what happened between us.” 

“Yeah, well shit changes. Clearly you know that.”

“Nothing changed. I cared for you then, and I do now.” 

You scoffed. “Spare me, alright? It was clear to me after you left you never gave a shit. I licked your wounds so you could heal and then you left me. Fuck off. You don’t get the right to tell me where I can hang out, what I can do, or when I can do it.” You got in his face, your voice low before you turned around to head back inside. 

He stood there more upset than he had been when you two first broke up. He wasn’t sure what he thought he would gain from coming out tonight. He just thought he could save you from yourself. He knew he was the reason you went on the downward spiral but he didn’t know how to fix it. 

He bit his lip to keep from crying as he watched you rejoin your friends and pick up a shot glass and knock it back. He shook his head as he turned to walk down the street.

He couldn’t keep doing this to himself, or to you. He needed to move on. He couldn’t watch you suffer any more. He had tried to help you. Every time he did though, you turned him down - hard. 

With his heart heavy, he took a taxi back to his new hotel and tried to forget all about you.

If only it were that easy.

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

Forever Tag:

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[wayward-mikaelson]

Ain’t My Fault

Request By: @rileynicole1967​ 

Request: hi!! i was wondering if you could do a one shot for deanxreader based off the song “aint my fault” by Zara Larsson. maybe she could be singing it to him idk i’ll keep the specifics to you ;) do whatever your heart desires. maybe end it with implied smut or actual smut 😏 (it’s okay if you can’t or aren’t taking requests right now. but if you ever have time i’m sure you’ll have fun with it cause it’s such a fun/sexual song :)

Word Count: 2089

Pairing: Dean x Reader 

Characters: Dean and Reader

Summary: The Reader puts on a sexy show for Dean. But Dean is blindfolded.

Disclaimer: Language, Drinking, Mention of death, Angst, Blindfold, Sexual Choking, Hair pulling, A whole lot of touching and feeling, Implied Smut, 

A/N: This was AWESOME to write guys!! I listened to that song many time just to get the motel part perfect! 

A/N 2: Sorry this was supposed to be done yesterday but life kind of happened and took my 4 yr old on a much needed mommy/son outing for ice cream.

*18+ Content. Anyone that is younger than 18 will need to scroll right on. I don’t want to risk my account being thanosed

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me the proper credit. I work way too hard on my work to have to stolen. You may share the link to this post.

***This work is also posted on Instagram, Wattpad, and AO3. Please go show it some love over there.

****Follow my other accounts Instagram, Twitter, Wattpad, and AO3

*****DMs are OPEN for REQUESTS

Song Inspired by Zara Larsson’s Ain’t My Fault (Click HERE to listen)

Forever Tags: @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @magssteenkamp​ @elansaidaris​ @hobby27​ @440mxs-wife​

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278​ @squirrelnotsam​ @sandlee44​

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I sit in the bar and throw back another shot. My hunt didn't go as planned. Lost a friend and good hunter. Well, he wasn't that great of a hunter, but still. He didn't deserve to go out that way. May he rest in peace. Now to go back to Cheyenne, and tell his wife. I throw back another shot.

The door to bar opens and I feel the cool evening breeze. Out of habit, I look towards the door to see who is walking in. That's when I see him walk in. The red shirt he wears stands out more than anything in this bar. The way he runs his hands through his short hair makes me catch my breath. The way his body moves around, I instantly know he's a hunter. But not just any hunter, this is a Winchester.

He looks around the bar as if he's looking for someone. Even from across the bar, I can see his green eyes flutter this way and that. I have never seen green eyes like that. So bright and that they look almost fake. When he doesn't find or see what he's looking for he makes his way to the bar. He takes a seat a few seats away from me and orders a beer. He takes a couple glances around and those green eyes land on me. With a small smirk, he winks at me.

Quickly looking away, I order a few more rounds of shots. When the small drinks are placed in front of me, I shoot back the golden brown drink. I can still feel his eyes on me. A quick sideways glance, I see that he has turns part of his body towards me. I look away and shoot back that last three shots. I start to slip out of my chair and when I look up I see him standing right there. Beer bottle in hand.

How did he get here so fast? I wonder. I mean, I've heard stories about the Winchesters, so I'm not going to doubt anything at this point. "Sorry," I try to move pass him but his green eyes hold me there.

"Have we met?" His deep rough voice suddenly has my brain sending signal all the way down to my core. Fuck, the sound of his voice was almost better than the whiskey I just shot. I mean, this could be the alcohol talking too.

"I wouldn't forget you if we had." Did I really say that out loud? Yep, I'm an ass who will most likely regret this in the morning.

He chuckles which makes me wish I had my legs crossed. Fuck. I'm starting to feel the ache and pulling in between my legs. I knew I had to get out of here. Silent rule between us female hunters: Never sleep with a Winchester. If you do, don't get attached because those Winchester men are a love them in the moment kind of man. Then they are gone without a word the next morning.

"Good one," His smile lingers on his too perfect face. "I'm Dean Winchester." He stretches his free hand out.

"Figures. I've of heard of you," my hand, having a mind of its own, takes it and shakes it. "I'm YN YLN."

Dean Winchesters smile gets a bit bigger. He sits in the empty chair by him and without thinking, I do the same. I make sure I cross my legs too. "I've heard of you, too." Damn it, his voice really needs to stop doing that. I squeeze my legs tighter together. "Word on the street is that you're a badass hunter with a tongue who takes and gives no fucks."

"Is that what they're saying about me?" I chuckle and look down. "I get the job done. That's all."

For the next two hours we talk. We exchange some of our hunting stories. He has saved the world a several times and lives up to the stories I've heard from other hunters. As we talk, He drinks and I chug water and snack on some crappy bar fries. Before the clock hits ten, I get up out of my seat and tell him I gotta get back to my motel and get some sleep.

"Do you need a lift?" Deans voice, sexy as it is, is a bit slurry.

"No, It's just around the block," I say.

"Don't like it," He gets up and throws cash onto the bar counter. He takes keys out of his pocket and shakes them. "I'll take you back."

I smile and can't help but feel the tightness in my core. It's practically screaming right now. "I'm a big girl," I say remember that silent rule.

"I'm afraid I have to insist, sweetheart," He gently takes my arm and hooks it around his and walks me out. "You never know what sick bastard wants to get his hands on a beautiful thing like you. Hunter or not, you could get hurt."

So I let Dean Winchester take me back to my motel room.

Sitting in the parking lot in front of my room, we talk a little bit more. I haven't talked that much to just one person before. I have always kept talks with others short. I start to get out and Dean gets out with me.

"Don't say anything," He says walking around to my side. "Let me just make sure you make it inside alright."

I throw my hands up and let him walk me to the door. I repeat the silent rule in my head. Never sleep with a Winchester. Never sleep with a Winchester. Never sleep with a Winchester. I open my door and step inside, Dean watches my every move.

"Do you want to come in?" I catch myself asking.

"Sure," Dean follows me inside.

I don't know what the fuck I just did, but I am not backing out. My body seems to know what I what more than my brain. "I'm going to use the bathroom real quick." Before I close the door to the bathroom, I see Dean take a seat in the motel table chair and pull out his phone. I turn to the bathroom sink and splash my face and see the look in my own eyes. The lust. The hunger. The need.  I pull the hair band from my hair and shake it out.

"Here we go," I smile to myself. I instantly become a whole new person.

I make my way out of the bathroom. Dean is leaning back in the chair. "I hope you don't mind, but I raided your mini fridge." He points to a few empty mini bottles of alcohol.

"Oh that's fine," I walk over to my phone that's on the table and find the perfect song. Setting it down, I open up my bag and pull out the tie that I carry with me. "I hope you don't music."

"I love music," Dean says shifting in his seat. I can see a noticeable bulge forming tightly in his pants.

"Good," I turn towards Dean. "Just feel the music once the music starts." He eyes the tie in my hand. He smirks and raises an eyebrow. I bite my lip as I feel the wetness in my pants start to form. I take the tie and gently wrap it around his eyes and tie a knot so it's secure.

I press play on the phone and lean behind him. "Like I said, feel the music."

As the song starts, I slowly run my hands over his shoulders. Feeling the firm muscle under neath the layer of red. I suck in a soft breath. I lean behind him and press my lips to his neck and trail them to his ear. I feel the muscles tense and relax. I move to the other side and put my lips to his ear and whisper the lyrics to him.

"It ain't my fault you keep turning me on. It ain't my fault you got, got me so gone. It ain't my fault I'm not leavin' alone. It ain't my fault you keep turning me on." I slowly push away and notice a small little smile on his face. I walk around straddle his lap and start on the buttons of that red shirt. Figures, there's another layer under it.

I push this first layer down and when I do, Deans hands grab my hips. With one hand and take both of them and pin them down between our bodies. One of his fingers slips out and starts to firmly stroke the crotch of my jeans. I bite my lip and suck in a breath. Just the touch alone sends sparks throughout my body.

Taking my free hand, I grab the back of his head and grip the small hair. I feel his hands ball into fists. I press my forehead to his and he tries to bring his lips to mine. He can't due to my firm grip. "So if I put your hands where my eyes can't see. Then you're the one who's got a hold on me. No I, can't be responsible, responsible." I softly sing along to the song. I softly and quickly press my lips to his.

Dean's lips part and I feel the tip of his tongue on my lips. I push away and slid off his lap, making sure my hand brushed against his already hard erection. I make my way around the chair again and slowly slide my hands back down his chest. Sighing as I feel the muscles again. As the lyrics of the song start again It ain't my fault you came in looking like that. You just made me trip, fall, and land on your lap. Certain bad boy smooth, body hotter than a sauna. I don't mean to be rude, but I look so damn good on ya. I grip the bottom of his black t-shirt and pull it up over his head. Without the blindfold moving either.

Nothing prepared me for Deans hand to grip my neck gently but firmly from behind. Dean pulls my neck down and presses his lips to mine. He slips his tongue into my mouth and explores it. His tongue runs along my teeth and pushes my tongue aside. Trying to claim dominance.

I push away from him. His hand reluctantly pulls away from my neck and falls back to his lap. I walk around him and un do my pants and shimmy out of them. Dean tilts his to the side as he hears my pants hit the ground. I got back and sit on Deans lap but this time, my back is a hundred percent to him. I grab his hand and use them to run over my body. From my shirt covered breast to my naked thighs. My head rolls back and to the side as he take control of his hands back.

"Too much shirt," he whispers into my ear. He grabs the hem of my shirt and flawlessly takes it off. I hear the fabric fall floor and I bring a hand back to his face. As swiftly as he took my shirt off, he takes my bra off. Both his firm and calloused hands squeeze both my breast and pinches the sensitive nipple making them hard under his hands.  

My head falls back onto Deans shoulder. He takes hold of my neck again and kisses my neck and his free hand trails my body and slowly disappears under my lace panties. His finger slowly circle around my clit and that's all he does. I suck in a breath and bite my lip as my own arousal slowly turns into a climax.

Dean kisses my neck again as the lyrics of the song say So if I put your hands where my eyes can't see. Then you're the one who's got a hold on me. No I, can't be responsible, responsible. Then without warning, Dean pushes me off his lap. I turn to see him rip the tie of his face. Those gorgeous green eye were filled lust, hunger, desire, the whole bit.

He closes the gap between us and backs us to the bed where he pushes me down onto it. I lay on the bed and watch as he takes his pants off and slowly takes my panties off. He smiles at how wet they are. He sets them aside and settles himself between my legs. He takes my hands and pins them above my head.

"You're turn," he nips my ear and he slips inside me.

[quarantined-with-bucky]

Superpower

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~4,300

Summary: Bucky has an infatuation with The Incredibles that he might be taking too far. It takes some stern words from you to help him figure that out.

Warnings: A bit of angst, but also fluff, too

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and showing so much love to my last fic so much! I hope you all enjoy this one just as much. I like to write based off of little pieces of inspiration, so this time it was a tweet from Dr. Thema on Twitter and a response by Ashley C. Ford. I bolded both quotes since the quote-block format I usually use doesn’t fit right here!

...

“Super-strength is a superpower.”

“I never said it wasn’t. I was saying that you don’t have it.”

Bucky scoffs and folds his arms across his broad chest. In this moment it was hard to tell if he was puffing it out on purpose or if he had been putting in extra reps in the gym. Probably both, you decide. “Please, (Y/N), we just watched The Incredibles. We both know that I am literally Mr. Incredible.”

You couldn’t stifle your laugh. Two months ago, Bucky decided to catch up on all the movies he missed over the past seventy years. It took years to finally understand the internet, modern technology, and Wi-Fi (to be fair, you still aren’t exactly sure how that last one works, but you got the point across just fine). While Bucky had seen the basic movies: classic, old-timey movies, it was time to focus on the more enjoyable movies: kid movies. You watched Wall-E, making sure to explain the implications of that movie, Up, obviously you both cried, and Lilo & Stitch, an underrated classic.

Last night, in preparation for this mission, you’d insisted in watching The Incredibles. You thought it would hype him up for the tropical mission Steve was bringing him (and Sam) along on. And boy oh boy you were spot on. It had been twelve hours of nonstop Incredibles talk.

The night before, you two were snuggled up on the couch, mountains of blankets on top of you, bowls of popcorn and candy littered around you. Bucky’s arm slid around your back and you used the crook of his shoulder as a pillow. “What is going on here,” Bucky muttered to himself, squinting at the screen as the beginning of the movie started, Mr. Incredible fumbling around with his microphone.

You grinned in anticipation, wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling yourself closer to him. “Isn’t it so cute?” You said into his chest.

Bucky shoves his mouth full of popcorn, laughing loudly at Frozen talking about babes and Mr. Incredible ranting about the world in jeopardy. You didn’t think that he’d be laughing this much already (you know it’s a cinematic masterpiece, but still); maybe this movie was just that relatable. Although you were just a desk jockey in the Avengers tower, you knew they were always off saving the world and sacrificing themselves to do so.

It was safe to say that Bucky clearly enjoyed the movie – it just felt so realistic to him. The next morning, he spent breakfast rambling on about the fact that Syndrome literally lived in a volcano; how could Mr. Incredible not know? Tony brought up the point that Hydra set up camp in the exact opposite climate, so Bucky should cut the animators some slack. Bucky was not having it. “Aren’t you technically Edna Mode?” He rhetorically asked Tony with a deadpan stare.

Tony scoffed, holding a hand over his heart to feign hurt, before returning the glare to Bucky. “Remind me to talk to you about your hobo suit later.” With that, he left the kitchen, strutting down the hall, followed with him yelling: “no capes!” as Thor walked past him, the god raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Later that night, Bucky had to leave for a mission. You’d spent the afternoon in Bucky’s bed with each other, holding one another close; and where you tried to have some light pillowtalk, it ended up being about The Incredibles II after he got back. The two of you ended up in the shower to wash off the afternoon workout. While you were wrapped up in a robe, brushing your post-shower hair in the mirror, Bucky popped up behind you with just a towel around his waist. “Honey, have you seen my super-suit?” You could only roll your eyes and smile in response.

…

“Well if you’re Mr. Incredible, then I’m Mrs. Incredible.” You took a step closer to him, closing the space between you such that your chests are touching.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, dangerously close to the hem of your jeans. “I know,” he smiled, leaning forward to give you a kiss. “Those moves earlier? You’re even more flexible than her.”

“Cut it out, lovebirds,” Sam interrupted, his tone playful. “We don’t need a live show.”

Bucky drops his hands and leads you towards the hangar to where the jet was waiting. “All I’m saying is that I could definitely lift one of those train cars like he does. I could do more than one – ” he cuts himself off, stopping in his tracks. “(Y/N), I could juggle them.”

“Sure,” you hum, hooking your arm around his back and leaning into his side. “Although, when you think about it, you might be more of a cyborg than Mr. Incredibles, y’know?”

He groans, dropping his head and shutting his eyes. “But I don’t wanna be a cyborg.”

“We’ll watch Teen Titans then see how you feel.”

“Teen what?” He turned to stare blankly at you.

“Forget it, I’ll show you when you get back.” You smiled warmly up at him before he pulled you into a bear hug.

He kissed the top of your head and murmured “I love you” before pulling away.

“Love you, too, baby,” you responded softly. You sent him away with Steve and Sam, telling all of them to be safe before watching the jet take off.

With a sigh, you turned on your heel, seeing yourself out of the compound, heading back to your apartment. The streets of New York were busy despite the cold weather outside. Early November had its benefits: the streets were lined with orange, red, and brown as the trees were ready to shed their summer colors; but it also had its drawbacks: the streets were cold, and you could see your breath outside. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, pulling the collar closer around your exposed neck. If Bucky were here you already know he would’ve wrapped you up in his own coat to keep you warm, he would’ve held your hands in his own warm ones and nuzzled his nose against your own red nose. He was actually very sappy, when it came down to it. He was a sucker for you – constantly having to have his hands on you, make sure you were always warm.

You finished the thirty-minute walk to your apartment, taking your time to appreciate the fall scenery around you, glancing at all the Thanksgiving-soon-to-be-Christmas window displays, and enjoying the pumpkin scents around every corner. Pushing your door open, you were met with the warm heat and smell of the chrysanthemums Bucky had given you earlier that week. You tossed your keys to the side, shrugged your jacket off, and made a big mugful of hot chocolate.

You plopped down by the window and leaned your head on the glass, letting the steam from your drink warm your cheeks. You’d wondered in that moment where Bucky would be going exactly. He did mention it would be a tropical/forest vibe; the only thing you knew about that is that it’d be humid. Although you knew of Bucky’s disdain for cold, he wasn’t much of a fan of heat, either. He was much more of an autumn guy. You made a mental note to go for a walk through Central Park with him when he gets back.

He’d been gone for six days. Today was Thursday and you’d been stuck at your desk all morning. It hurt a little bit to have to walk to the Avenger’s Tower everyday without Bucky meeting you at the door (or Bucky walking with you to work, having spent the night before at your place) but you had to make do – paperwork needed to be completed.

Your eyes were aching from staring at your computer screen and your hand was cramping from all the scribbling you’ve been doing all day. The alternative was a coffee break in the café on the first floor – and you know what? Anything sounded better than work at the moment. You pop a post-it note on the door telling anyone looking for you that you’ll be back in ten. You make it to the elevator and straighten out your skirt as you stare at yourself in the reflection of the doors. Skirt a little wrinkled – nothing you can’t fix quickly in the elevator – button up shirt tucked in smartly, heels that made your feet ache, reading glasses that usually sit perched on your nose now shifted to sit on the top of your head, keeping your hair away from your face.

Despite how put-together you may look, you were exhausted and quite frankly, defeated. Not only was work kicking your ass lately but combined with the fact that Bucky was gone, and you hadn’t heard from him nearly wrecked you. Normally, he’d not take more than a day or two to reach out: a call or text simply to say he’s okay. You had to tell yourself that there was terrible reception wherever he was. That was going well for you, until you ran into Wanda one day on the elevator.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she greeted kindly, smiling wide as you entered the elevator next to her.

“Hi, Wanda, how have you been?” You responded. You’ve hung out with the Avengers at times. Usually your time with Bucky consisted of just the two of you, but sometimes you got the go-ahead to join their events and movie nights. Everyone welcomed you with open arms because not only was your personality so winning, but also you were the girl that brought Bucky out of his shell – in Sam’s words: “you made him sociable.”

“Good! It’s been busy around the complex, I’m sure you know already.” You’re not sure if she’s saying that because she’s aware of the pile of paperwork you’ve been working on for ages or if she can feel exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Yeah, you guys have given me a whole lot of paperwork,” you say, trying to give a hearty chuckle before awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

She nods and hums in response. “The boys have been busy,” she responds casually.

You bite your lip before taking a deep breath and nodding in affirmation. “I haven’t heard from Bucky lately, so I’d imagine so.”

She shrugs – again so casually. Can she not feel the fact you’re about to freak out right now? “Actually, nobody’s heard from any of them.” How did she just end that sentence like that? Nobody’s heard from them. Not with any of this trillion-dollar equipment – it can’t connect them one continent away? She senses your panic; there’s a change in your breathing and you eyes go wide, staring now directly at the floor. “(Y/N), no. I mean – they’re fine. Just because they haven’t said anything doesn’t mean – ”

The elevator dings and opens to your floor. You politely hold up your hand to her and smile. “I get what you’re saying, Wanda. Thanks for keeping me updated.” You shuffle out the door, calling out for her to have a good day.

You make it back to your office and don’t even try to stifle your loud sigh as you plop into your chair. Fuck.

…

So, it was sufficed to say you hadn’t slept very well since that interaction. It’s been three nights since she’s told you they were basically M.I.A.; you spent your nights rolling around in bed, holding his pillow to your chest, constantly checking your phone for any kind of notification from Bucky. Without hearing from him, you didn’t know how long he’d be gone; without hearing from him, you didn’t know if he was even okay. Screw your sleeping schedule, you just needed to make sure he was even alive.

You make your way back to your office, taking a sip of the piping hot coffee and as you swing the corner you hit a brick wall.

And there was a brick wall standing in the middle of the hallway.

You gaze up at the man, blue eyes staring directly into your own. He’s breathing a little fast, especially for someone who had been standing in front of your office door, staring at the post-it note for quite some time. His hands were shoved in his pockets, shoulders a little hunched – he was nervous; something was wrong.

Very wrong.

It wasn’t even until his hand reached out to you, stopping in mid-air in front of your shirt before you noticed the coffee that spilt down the front of your shirt. It was warm, sure, but your racing heart took precedence over the splash of liquid that coated your black shirt. “Sorry, (Y/N), I – ”

“It’s fine. When did you get back?” You don’t care about the coffee; you barely even felt it. You shifted the weight between your feet, squeezing the coffee cup in your hand. Why were you so nervous? There was so much tension in the air. Just staring at him as he waited patiently for you to return from your coffee run. Neither of you knowing what to say. Its like you were strangers.

He runs a hand through his hair, huffing out a deep breath. He was actually still in uniform; you didn’t notice until you asked that question. His face was grimy, slick with sweat and remnants of mud and maybe even some flecks of blood if you squint. He then scratched at the stubble gracing his chin. “Just now.” He still can’t breathe. How was he supposed to tell you? You were certainly going to kill him when you found out.

He didn’t know what to say. He was thinking about this the whole plane ride home, the whole walk to your office, the whole ten agonizingly long minutes he’d spent waiting outside your office. But now, looking into your curiously wide eyes, glazed over with concern – you were basically paralyzed in fear; if it weren’t for your incessant shifting. It was almost driving him crazy to look at someone who is about to jump out of their skin with fear, yet unsure of what move to make or what to say. “Where is he?”

And Steve swallowed hard. “He’s okay.” You stared straight into his soul. “Well, he’s – ”

“Steve.”

“He’s alive. He got shot. A couple times.” Each fragment that left his mouth was punctuated by the prompt shutting of his mouth. It was important to him to stop himself from saying too much. Your mouth actually dropped open. There was nothing left for you to say, but your jaw dropped. He reached out and took hold of your arms in his hands. “He’s alive,” he repeated, the words not resonating in your brain (and he could see that). “He’s in med-bay. (Y/N), he is fine.” He didn’t think he could be any clearer.

Nothing made sense. You felt as though you were asked to complete a 100-piece puzzle with only three-pieces. You were struggling to comprehend anything that came out of Steve’s mouth. Instead, you sharply turned on your heel. You were calm – this cannot be emphasized enough – you walked with your shoulders pulled back and gaze straight ahead; but you weren’t looking at anything, simply following your own muscle memory on your way to the med-bay.

Steve chased after you – he walked behind you, taking long strides as to not overtake you. He kept saying your name, telling you to calm down, but you already were. Except your heart was thumping out of your chest. You couldn’t even form any more questions for Steve. Obviously: “where was he shot” was a glaring question, “how close to death was he” is another; you can’t even put those words together right now.

You shove open the doors to med-bay, blatant disregard for the coffee still in your hand, splashing now-tepid liquid again on your shirt and sleeve. That’s when you see him: sprawled out on a cot that’s too small for him; his boots hung off the end of the bed, dry mud caked to the bottom of his heavy boots, flaking onto the floor. As soon as you’d shoved the door open, Steve following you in toe, Bucky’s head lifted towards you. He actually grinned.

You’d nearly fainted. His face was littered with cuts and scrapes, dirt around each wound scrubbed away by the doctor then coated in slick, clear antibiotic. His shirt was long gone, leaving him in his combat boots still riddled with weapons (visibly and concealed, you could only assume) and his dirty boots. His chest was completely bandaged; he was grateful you’d walked in after he’d already been covered because he knew that he’d be hearing an earful from you if you’d actually been able to see the damage. This way, you’d only be able to see the wounds to change the dressing probably hours from now. His body would be nearly healed.

“James.” It was stern. You weren’t mad, per say; you couldn’t be mad – you were glad he was even alive. You didn’t know why your tone was so harsh; you were pissed that he was shot, probably due to some heroic act of saving one of his teammates, or maybe he was just being careless? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to find out – they’d never tell you which it was, anyway.

“Hey, doll,” he says casually, already trying to schmooze his way back on your good side.

“James.” This time you breathed his name, finally getting close enough to put your hands on his chest – fingertips ghosting off the edge of the gauze, where the bandage met his collarbone. He took both your hands in his, pulling them together and placing them tenderly over his heart. There must have been six layers of gauze over him – not a speck of dirt or blood poking through.

“Baby, look at me,” he whispered. You flicked your eyes up to his worried ones. His eyebrows were drawn together, mouth pressed into a firm line. “I’m fine.”

“James,” you sobbed, tears that were once held at bay now falling freely down your cheeks and falling onto his pants. You choked back any more words, nodding furiously as you found it hard to breath. He pulled your arms and yanked you to the bed and now you were sitting beside him, his hands now cupping the back of your neck, cradling your head against where his neck meets his collarbone. He cooed softly into your hair, whispering sweet nothings as he rubbed your back up and down.

“I’m okay,” he murmured. And all you could do was nod against his skin, crying more and more as he pressed each kiss onto your head.

It was probably ten minutes of crying before you calmed down, now laying against him in silence, your eyes shut resting against his shoulder. “You know,” he whispered, pulling you from silence. “I always love seeing you in your work clothes. All smart and sexy.” You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, snuggling further into him. “But you smell like coffee.”

…

Bucky was barred from missions for three months. And while he was physically healed within a week and a half, Steve wasn’t so sure about his mental state – and you weren’t so sure either. Actually, it had been a more than pleasant three months. He started off doing physical therapy once a day, then adding in workouts and phasing out the therapy. This occupied maybe four hours per day. That meant that the rest of his free time he spent in your office, at your apartment, and in your bed.

That would be fine with you if you could confidently say that Bucky was one hundred percent okay.

Most of the time, he’d spend all day next to you being a total chatterbox – actually, he any willing conversation he had would be about the book you were reading, that one episode of friends the two of you watched last night, rambling on remodels of his place and if he should paint his dresser. It was the unwilling conversations that he had that concerned you.

The words he’d mumble to himself as he rolled around in your bed having a nightmare. Every time, you’d spend five minutes trying to wake him up. At first you started out by nudging him awake, it developed to the state that now you had to fully grab his arm and shake him wildly to get him up. You’d sit there, pulling your hands through his hair, whispering sweet nothings until he calmed down. Every time, you’d ask him if he wanted to talk about it; he’d say now. You then asked him to tell you – you pleaded for him to let you into that side of his life. You begged to understand and cried for him – with him.

It was no different tonight.

If he wouldn’t talk, then you would. “Baby, you can’t keep doing this.” He sat up in bed, sheets twisted around his legs, leaning over with his back pressed into the iron-rung headboard. It was cool against his hot skin – the only thing making it semibearable as the bars pressed into the tight muscles in his back. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It’s not good for you.”

He didn’t say anything. He stared straight in front of him, his hands clasped over one another on his lap. You held one of his forearms in both hands, dragging your fingers in light patterns softly over his skin. You continue pleading with him: “you can tell me anything. Please, I hope you understand that.”

With this, he peers up at you with sorrow filled eyes. You can barely see them in the dark. “I know I can. It’s not a big deal, though. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You drop his arm in frustration, instead bringing your hands up to your hair and gripping it tightly, feeling like pulling your hair out might be a better option than bringing this conversation where it needs to go. “You have these nightmares every night, James. It’s only getting worse. I can tell that you’re hurting, and it hurts me to see you like that. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it, I can see that somethings wrong.”

He shrugs. “I can take it. Look, I’m sorry if I keep waking you up. I won’t stay over anymore.” He turns his head sheepishly towards his lap again, shoulders hunching forward. You know he thinks it’s a joke; he’s putting on an act. He wants you to curl up to his side, beg him to stay, make-out, have sex to take his mind off it, and fall asleep peacefully. You know because you’ve done it before. Multiple times.

God, he can be so annoying. “James.” Your stern tone had returned, you dropped your hands out of your hair and let them fall heavily on your lap. “A history of trauma can give you a high tolerance for emotional pain. Just because you can take it doesn’t mean you have to.”

He wasn’t sure what to do in that moment. There was nothing to say – nothing he could say. There wasn’t anything he could follow that up with; not a joke, not a sound, not even an intelligent sentence. He instead stared down at his hands, not even moving a muscle, not even to blink.

You were calm once again. You knew that your words had finally gotten through to him. Your relationship was strong: you’d built an emotional connection such that you two could be in the middle of the most serious discussions and still be able to crack a joke. But the both of you knew this wasn’t the time. That’s why he still hadn’t said anything: he didn’t have a smartass response, nor a comment he could make to get out of this one.

“Suffering is not a superpower.”

And with those final words, Bucky broke, his face contorting in pain, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling into an open frown. His shoulders shook slowly as he struggled to breath, holding his face in his hands. You couldn’t sit idly by, so you grabbed his hands and swung a leg over him, sitting on his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist so he had something to hold on to; his arms wrapped tighter around you as his head dropped to the front of your chest, quietly sobbing into your shirt. You secured your arms around him, looping them over his shoulders and around his neck.

You sat there absorbing his tears, not saying a word, not even whispering a small “shh.” It was about time he let his emotions out and you weren’t about to cut him off now. You’d spent every waking moment with him (save for his workouts and physical therapy) so you knew how long this emotional release had been building up inside of him. Every once and a while everyone needs a good cry – Bucky hadn’t had one in years.

You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there. His sobs turned into quiet sniffles turned into calm, steady breathing. You knew this conversation was far from over. He needed therapy, or at the least needed to vent to you more often. Whatever solution you two would come up with could wait until the morning. Right now, he needed rest, he needed tranquility.

You didn’t know if he was asleep, and hell, you, yourself, were almost asleep. It wasn’t until he broke the silence when you got your answer. “Can we watch The Incredibles II?”

[megz1985]

Hoodie Thief

This is self indulgent fluff at it’s finest. I was inspired by Calum tweeting about finding his missing Empathy hoodie and couldn’t get this out of my head so here we are. 

A couple points to make,  1. I’ve never written or posted anything 5SOS before (it’s always been 1D, specifically Ziam usually) 2. I’ve never really posted my own writing on tumblr so this is all new to me

That all being said, here goes nothing. 

Warnings: None this is pure tooth rotting fluff 

Words: 3,270 

________________________________________________________________

"Daddy don't go" your daughter cries as she watches Calum packing his suitcase to leave for tour with The Chainsmokers. 

You bite your lip from where you were leaning in the doorway watching the pair. You aren't any happier than your three year old daughter is about Calum leaving, again, but you are used to it by now. After two years together it was just usual practice for Calum to leave on tour with the rest of 5 Seconds of Summer.  

Calum came crashing into yours and your daughter's lives quite literally, while you were at the park. He'd been chasing Duke and had slammed into you, knocking you to the ground while your daughter's stroller rolled away. With a quick apology and even quicker reflexes Calum had grabbed the stroller before it got too far, before offering you a hand up from the ground.

"I'm so sorry" Calum frowned, gently rolling the stroller back towards himself and you, as Duke circled back to sit at the man's feet, sniffing interestedly up at the toddler in the stroller. "I'm Calum, and this jerk of a dog is Duke" he added quietly. 

You smiled at the tall man before you, reaching out to grab ahold of your daughter's stroller once again. "It's okay, I'm y/n" you offered with a shy smile, no one had given you a second glance since your daughter had been born thirteen months earlier. "And this little cutie is Keegan" you explained gesturing to your daughter who squealed excitedly at her name. 

Calum grinned, his eyes crinkling as he did, "lovely to meet you both, can I take you for a coffee, to apologize?" he asked, brown eyes pleading, and you couldn't say anything but yes. 

The rest was history really, you had explained that when you had told Keegan's father about her existence, he'd left without so much as a call and that you had just moved to LA to start over again, opening your own interior design company and buying a house for you and Keegan. You and Calum had exchanged numbers and had been inseparable ever since. 

Calum's face crumples at Keegan's plea shooting you a pleading glance before he crouches down, holding his arms open for the three year old to crash into. "Kee you know I have to go, Uncle Ashton will drink too much coffee if I'm not there to stop him" he mumbles cuddling Keegan close to him. The two had been attached at the hip since that day in the park, but it's only been in the last six months she's taken to calling him Daddy. 

Keegan whimpers burrowing more into Calum's chest, "but Mama and me needs you too" she huffs, "Unca Ashton will be fine. Unca Mike there to stop him" she adds cutely. 

Calum chuckles, pressing a kiss to her head "you've got a point there Bub, but Uncle Luke needs my help to sing to all the people" he tries, knowing Keegan's soft spot for the tall blond. "And you and Mama can come visit" Calum adds, pressing another kiss to her head before sending you a look.

"Kee, Daddy has to go so he can make his fans happy. But we'll call him every night, while he's gone" you say, finally stepping all the way into yours and Calum's shared room. "Plus Auntie Crystal said she has a surprise for you but only after Daddy and your uncles leave" you add. 

Keegan's eyes widen at that and she pushes out of Calum's hold "Auntie Crystal has da best surprises" she squeals jumping in place. 

Calum kisses your cheek before turning back to his suitcase and grabbing his green empathy hoodie and folding it to put it in, just as his phone rings. "Hey Ash, what's up?" Calum answers the device, pacing out of the room to talk. 

As soon as he's gone Keegan pulls herself onto the bed and grabs the green hoodie, holding it tight to her chest as she jumps down from the bed and races out of the room, Duke hot on her heels. "Keegan?" You ask and she stops turning to look at you, chewing her bottom lip. "Where are you going with Daddy's hoodie?" 

She grins cuddling the green fabric closer "it mine Mama" she giggles before disappearing into her bedroom with her loot. 

Calum comes back in then, tossing a couple more things into his case, before closing and zipping it up. Once he's done he turns to you pushing his way into your arms. "I don't wanna go" he mumbles, "I miss you both so much when I'm gone" he whispers, cradling your jaw in his hand. 

"We'll be here when you get back, Rockstar, and you love to tour, see all the fans. Have endless coffee dates with Ash" you tease, hugging him close. "I'll miss you too" you add,  pressing up on your toes to kiss his lips. 

Calum deepens the kiss, pulling away a moment later, to look around in confusion, "where're Kee and Duke?" 

You shrug "they must be playing in her room" you hum before tugging him out of the bedroom by his wrist, "now I would like some cuddles, please" you demand as you walk towards the living room. 

Calum just chuckles, kissing your cheek, "your wish is my command y/n" he grins as he drops onto the couch. 

**

It's two two weeks into the tour when Calum asks you about his hoodie. A quick glance at your daughter shows her silently begging you not to say anything about it, so you don't. 

"Are you sure you packed it Cal?" 

"You watched me do it y/n, but it's not here."

You shrug, biting your lip, you know the hoodie is a fan favourite, and you don't blame them, it looks good on Calum. It's also Keegan's favourite, and she's been wearing it to bed for the last two weeks, the large hoodie making her tiny frame look even smaller than usual. "I'll keep an eye out Cal, but maybe you lost it somewhere." You hate lying to him, but Keegan seems set on not wanting Calum to know she has his hoodie. 

Keegan is then making grabby hands for your phone  "I wanna talk to Daddy" she grumbles, smiling widely when you hand her your phone, pressing her face too close to the camera before pulling it back so Calum can see. "Hi Daddy, I miss you" 

"Hi Bubba, I miss you too, you being good for Mama?" Calum asks and Keegan rolls her eyes at him. "I'm sorry Bug, I know you're always good. What have you and Mama been doing?" He asks instead. 

Keegan launches into a long story about you and her walking Duke, that has Calum listening intently, while you slip away to check on dinner. 

**

When Calum tweets about losing the hoodie and most of the fans on twitter have a collective breakdown, you almost cave, and tell him where it really is. But Keegan looks so cute in it, and it's helping her through Calum's absence, so who is it really hurting? 

"You ready to go, Kee?" You ask, double checking you have all the tickets and documents you need to travel.  

"Comin' Mama" Keegan calls out before you hear her coming down the stairs, "is Auntie Sierra comin' to?" 

You smile at her unicorn backpack bumping on her shoulders as she walks, and the stuffed penguin Luke had surrendered to her the first time the guys met you two and nod, "yes Auntie Crystal and Auntie Sierra are both meeting us at the airport" you hum. Bending down to untwist one of her backpack straps, "you ready to go see Daddy?" 

“Yeah, let’s go Mama” Keegan grins, and you return it, before opening the door and following your three year old out to the car.

** 

The tour ends a few weeks after you and Keegan went to visit, and she’s excitedly bouncing on her toes, holding Crystal’s hand as you wait for the guys to land back in LA. Keegan has shoved the empathy hoodie into the bottom drawer of her dresser under a bunch of other hoodies with glitter and unicorns on them, not wanting it to be discovered by Calum, in case he gets upset. 

You just can’t wait to have Calum home again, even though you’ll have to share him with the guys and the studio while they finish their album, at least he’ll be home every night again. A squeal from your daughter drags you out of your thoughts, and to the approaching passengers. While you don’t see Calum you do see Luke, and that explains Keegan's squeal. 

Crystal lets go of Keegan’s hand, once Luke is only a few steps away and she charges at her favourite Uncle who catches her easily and swings her up onto his hip, without breaking stride. You watch as he talks to Keegan while still coming closer, before Luke comes to a stop, and bends down to kiss Sierra quickly. 

“Hey Keegan, are you stealing my boyfriend?” Sierra teases when Luke pulls away Keegan still in his arms. 

“Never Auntie Sierra” Keegan insists, shaking her head, her dark ponytail hitting Luke in the face as she does. “Unca Luke loves you” 

Luke grins, pressing a kiss to Keegan’s forehead, “that’s right I love Sierra, but I love you too Kee” he chuckles, just as Michael and Ashton come around the corner. 

Crystal grins and flies forwards to hug Michael and Ashton comes to stand beside you, “Cal will be here in a second” he chuckles as Keegan wiggles until Luke puts her down and charges over towards you and Ashton. “Hey, there’s my favourite girl” Ashton grins scooping Keegan up as she reaches for him. 

“Where Daddy?” Keegan mumbles, dropping her head to Ashton’s shoulder, a clear sign that she’s tired, just as you see Calum coming around the corner a tired yet content smile on his face. 

“Kee, look who I see” you hum, and she gasps, before struggling against Ashton, wanting to run at Calum, who’s still too far away for you to be comfortable with. 

“Not yet Keegan, Daddy’s too far away” Ashton murmurs and Keegan huffs, but settles back into the drummer’s arms. 

Calum closes the space between you and reaches to take a pouting Keegan from Ashton, before he steps up beside you, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek, before he kisses Keegan’s forehead. “Hey, I missed you guys” he grins, as Keegan cuddles closer to him. 

“We missed you too, are you ready to go home?” you ask, Calum just nodding as Keegan wraps his hoodie strings around her fingers. “Ash, do you need a ride?” you ask, turning to face him. 

Ashton grins nodding his head “do you mind?”  he asks, before turning to face Cal, a questioning look on his face. 

“It’s fine, Keegan loves when you sit with her” Calum shrugs, as Keegan grins at Ashton nodding sleepily at her second favourite uncle.

**

It’s been several months since Calum announced the missing hoodie, and the fans still tweet about it regularly. The guys have been busy finishing the album, and with Fire Fight and other promo. Keegan has kept the hoodie hidden at the bottom of her drawer and life has moved on. 

It’s a week before Keegan’s fourth birthday and you're busy with a big design job, so Calum has offered to help her clean out the toys she no longer plays with and clothes that no longer fit. 

“C’mon Kee, Mama asked us to go through your clothes” Calum calls, walking into her purple room with a garbage bag in hand, “we can listen to the new album while we do it” he offers arching an eyebrow. 

“Daddy, I don’t want to” Keegan huffs, “but I still listen,” she adds seriously. 

“No can do Bub, you don’t help me sort out your stuff, I’m not playing you the album” 

Keegan narrows her eyes on Calum and sighs “fine” she mumbles, rolling off of her bed and coming over to where Calum has opened her drawers to start pulling out  clothes.   

“Thank you, now Mama says anything that has a four on the tag can stay, okay? Do you know what a four looks like?” Calum asks, checking the shirt in his hands before dropping it into the bag when it’s way too small to fit the rapidly growing girl in front of him. 

They make it through all the drawers in record time, they just have the bottom drawer with her hoodies and pyjamas in it before they take a break and move on to the never ending pile of toys. Calum is just reaching in to pull out all the hoodies when Keegan’s eyes widen and she grabs his wrist to stop him. 

“Daddy, wait!” she calls out and Calum looks at her alarmed, “they all fit” she insists eyes wide and bottom lip poking out. 

“C’mon Bug, we’ve gotta check, what about this one?” Calum asks holding up a hoodie that he knows still fits her, because she just got it for Christmas from Mali Koa a couple months ago. 

“Silly Daddy, that one fits” Keegan giggles and reaches into the drawer to grab another one out of the drawer and stuffs it into the bag of clothes that are too small. 

They’re reaching the bottom of the drawer when Calum sees the familiar green fabric, pulling it out he finds his long lost hoodie. “Bub, what’s this?” Calum asks holding the hoodie up between them. What he doesn’t expect is Keegan’s bottom lip wobbling before she starts crying and runs out of her bedroom and locks herself into the bathroom across the hall. 

Calum is quick to follow the girl, but she’s faster and already has the door locked where he can hear her crying on the other side of the door. 

“Daddy I’m sorry” she whimpers from behind the door, but he’s not entirely sure what  she’s apologizing to him for. 

“Can you open the door so we can talk about why you’re so upset?” 

“No, you gonna hate me, want Mama” Keegan sniffles, before she shuffles further away from the door. 

**

You come home quickly after Calum calls you, he sounded near tears himself and you could hear Keegan crying in the background, so you had rescheduled with your client and headed home. When you walk through the door you find Calum upstairs slumped against the wall outside the closed bathroom, his empathy hoodie in his lap. 

“Alright, what happened?” you ask dropping to crouch in front of Calum pulling the hoodie out of his grasp and tilting his chin up to look at you. 

“We were cleaning out her clothes when I found my missing hoodie. Then she ran away crying and locked herself in the bathroom” Calum explains, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “She keeps saying I’m going to hate her, but I could never, how do I fix this? Help me fix this.”

You sigh, tapping on the locked bathroom door, “Keegan? It’s Mama, I need you to open the door, please” you call out and sigh in relief when you hear the lock click. However she takes one look at Calum beside you and darts past you both and back into her room. 

Calum groans, “how do I fix this y/n? I think she hates me, she’s never avoided me” he mutters. 

You kiss Calum’s forehead and then his lips, dropping the green hoodie into his lap, and standing up, “give me a minute to talk to her, you go cuddle with Duke, we’ll be right there” you murmur. 

Once you’re in her room, you pout at the sight of your daughter face down on her bed crying, “Mama, Daddy hates me” she sniffles when you sit beside her rubbing her back. 

“Bug, Daddy could never hate you. What makes you say that?” you ask, still rubbing her back, until she rolls over and shuffles her head into your lap so you can play with her hair. 

“I stealed his hoodie, and all his fans are sad” Keegan sniffles after a minute of silence, your hands never stopping playing with her hair. 

“Daddy could never hate you, he’s loved you since the day we met Daddy” you murmur, as your phone pings with a notification, glancing at it you see that Calum has tweeted about finding the empathy hoodie. The tweet already has thousands of likes, retweets and replies and you giggle slightly at everyone demanding proof. You stand up, scooping your daughter into your arms, “let’s go talk to Daddy, I promise, he’s not mad.”

You find Calum scrolling through his phone, on the couch with Duke in his lap, a pout on his lips that makes him look more adorable than it really should. The empathy hoodie is in a heap beside him and he looks up when you come in. Keegan squeaks and hides her face in your neck, which makes Calum’s pout deepen. 

“Bub, talk to me, please” Calum murmurs, but when Keegan stays hidden he sighs, “I promise I’m not mad, I just want to know why you’re so sad” he adds quickly. 

“You is mad. I stealed your hoodie and made the fans sad” Keegan bursts out her voice muffled as she’s still hiding in your neck. 

“Oh Bubba no. I don’t care about that. But why did you have my hoodie?” Calum soothes, reaching out to rub her back when you sit down beside him, Keegan still in your arms. 

“It my favourite one Daddy and I miss you when you go away with Unca Luke, Unca Mike, and Unca Ash. So I stealed it” Keegan mumbles, finally looking at Calum, a pout on her lips. “You mad?” 

Calum chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches out for the almost four year old, “never mad, at you Bub. It’s my favourite hoodie too, and I bet it looks better on you than me anyways.”

“No way Daddy, you look handsome in it, Mama says so” Keegan insists, scrambling into Calum’s lap as she does. 

You smirk, “it’s true, but you both look cute in it” you add before you pick up the hoodie from beside you on the couch and pass it to Calum, “but I think you should show the fans where you found it” 

“Yeah you think so?” Calum asks, already reaching for his phone. “Hey Bub, can you put this on so I can see how cute it is?” 

Keegan nods quickly letting Calum help her into the hoodie “see Daddy” she giggles and Calum nods. “I sleeped in it when you was gone” 

Calum smiles at that before pressing a kiss to Keegan’s head, “alright Kee can you go over there so Daddy can take a picture?” he asks. 

When Keegan scrambles up and strikes a hilarious pose in front of Calum, he chuckles and snaps a quick picture. He shows you and you grin, nodding your head. He then makes quick work of posting the picture of Keegan smiling goofily at him with his empathy hoodie on, it covering her all the way to her ankles. He captions it Someone misses me too much when I go away and borrowed my hoodie. She looks better in it than me anyways.  

You smile at your boyfriend before you cuddle into his side and Keegan crashes into the cuddle scrambling into Calum’s lap, still wearing his hoodie. You spend the rest of the afternoon cuddling together while watching all of Keegan’s favourite movies. 

________________________________________________________________

[baby-hyena]

Brooch Pin and White Coat

Note: Hello moots! How are you, guys? I hope you’re well and you didn’t suffer from headache, like me and some of our moots in Twitter, because of yesterday’s show. Here’s a little gift, just to ease the sadness and thirst of our parents’ interaction. This one’s short, hope you’ll like it.

~

Baeksang Arts Awards is in five days. Hye Soo was on her way to work in her usual outfit; ringer tee, ripped jeans and, rubber shoes, plus of course, her phone strap. Her manager’s driving, while she sits on the passenger seat, scrolling through her Instagram. She went to the explore section to look for some news and posts. There she came across a post that made her smile.

So he’s coming, she thought.

It’s Keyeast Agency’s post about Ji Hoon confirming his attendance to the show. Hye Soo looks at her manager.

“What’s on my schedule after this CF?” She asks while smiling. Her manager glanced at her.

“Nothing follows, you’re free after this.” Her manager answers. She smiles and went back to her phone to text her stylist that she’ll pick a dress today for the awards show. While she’s at her inbox, she blinked twice.

Should I text him?, she thought.

She shrugs and looked for their thread. The last time they talked was the last filming day of Hyena. They didn’t have a chance to say goodbye formally and congratulate each other so they exchanged those in text messages. She smiled at his last text message.

Just call or text me if you need someone, sunbae~ – Ji Hoon.

She lets out a sigh as she types her message to him. At first, she didn’t know what to say. She’d type something and delete it after. Hye Soo bites her lower lip as she decides to send the text.

Hey, have you decided what to wear on Baeksang? – Hye Soo.

Hye Soo locks her screen and drops her phone on her lap after sending the text. It’s like she just sent a risky text to her crush. She’s fidgets her phone strap as she waits for his reply. But it’s been 10 minutes and they already arrived at her CF shoot location. Hye Soo sighs as she goes down her car.

Maybe he’s busy, she thought.

The shoot began shortly after she arrived at the location.

~

Ji Hoon was fitting his suit for Baeksang that day. He wanted another extraordinary suit, like that pink suit and his other unusual suits that resemble something funny. When he went out of the fitting room, Nam Gil was there reading a magazine. Ji Hoon opens his arms to show his suit while smirking.

“What do you think? Do I look like a spicy rice cake now?” Ji Hoon asks, showing off his reddish orange suit. Nam Gil acts like he’s trying to think.

“I think you look more like a..” Nam Gil stops midst sentence. “A sunkist.”

Ji Hoon frowned at his friend. He wanted to look tasty, not sour.

“Fine, I’ll change. I’ll try to look like a soju instead.” He said, rolling his eyes on his friend.

“Ah, wait a second. I think you got a text message.” Nam Gil stops him before he could go back inside the fitting room. Ji Hoon tilts his head, curious of who would text him on his day off.

He gets his phone from Nam Gil who’s smiling like crazy. He opens his phone and went to his inbox. His heart stops the moment he saw who texted him.

It’s Hye Soo sunbae, he thought.

Hey, have you decided what to wear on Baeksang? – Hye Soo.

Ji Hoon looked at Nam Gil who’s smiling at him. He smiles back as he holds his phone close to his chest.

“I think I got company.” Ji Hoon says.

“Go get it then, sunkist.” Nam Gil smiled at him widely.

Ji Hoon didn’t waste any second, typed his reply and changed quickly.

~

Hye Soo’s CF filming is done. She thanked the staff and director. After that, she goes to her dressing room to change to her usual outfit and gets her phone from her manager. She almost dropped her phone when she saw her notification tab. There’s Ji Hoon’s reply to her text among other notification from Instagram.

Hye Soo sighs anxiously as she opens the text message.

Sunbae! No, I haven’t picked any suit yet. Would you help me choose? – Ji Hoon.

She smiles after seeing his reply. She quickly typed a reply to him.

What brand do you plan to wear? I plan to wear Ralph Lauren~ – Hye Soo.

“Hey, what are your plans today? Will you be hanging out with your friends?” Hye Soo’s manager asked.

“I’ll pick a dress today. For Baeksang.” She answered simply while looking at her phone.

“Really? Will you be alright alone?” her manager asks again.

“Hm-mhm.” Hye Soo answers again.

She smiled when Ji Hoon’s text popped up on her screen.

Alright, where should I meet you? I’m at Gangnam right now. ­– Ji Hoon.

Hye Soo quickly types her reply.

Let’s meet at Ralph Lauren’s boutique there~ – Hye Soo.

~

Ji Hoon was drinking his 2nd bottle of yogurt when Hye Soo replied. He puts his yogurt down and quickly checked her reply.

“What does she said?” Nam Gil asks. Ji Hoon looks at him; they’re still inside the shopping mall somewhere in Gangnam. Good thing, they’re VIPs.

“I’ll meet her at Ralph Lauren’s boutique. Ciao!” Ji Hoon salutes at Nam Gil then he messes up with his hair before heading out to the parking lot. Nam Gil was left shaking his head and smiling.

~

Hye Soo arrived shortly at Ralph Lauren’s wearing her cap and sunglasses. She went straight to the receptionist and asked for VIP assistance. The receptionist nodded at her and led her to the VIP room.

Hye Soo was about to sit on the couch when she felt her phone vibrates. She quickly checked it.

Sunbae, I’m outside. – Ji Hoon.

After reading his text, Hye Soo went out of the VIP room. Outside, she sees him first in front of a saleslady. She raises her hand to wave at him.

“Yoon.” She softly called him. Ji Hoon looked at her direction. He’s also wearing a cap and sunglasses.

He didn’t answer; instead he walked towards her, not even throwing a glance over the saleslady who’s about to talk to him.

“Annyeong, sunbae.” He greeted her with his sweet smile. Hye Soo smiles back at him and nods.

“Let’s go.” They both entered the VIP room.

~

“This one?” It’s Hye Soo’s 3rd fit. Ji Hoon didn’t like the first fit and the she didn’t like the second fit. Now, it’s a simple black tube dress.

Ji Hoon swallowed when he looked at Hye Soo. The dress fitted her well and he can see how the color complimented her complexion and her curves are much more visible. The dress looks so simple but it exudes her elegance and sophistication that Ji Hoon felt like he’s running out of breath. He’s stunned by her beauty that he’s out of words.

Hye Soo waves her hand on his face. “Ji Hoon-ah?”

Ji Hoon came back to his senses and blinked twice, “Oh? Oh. Sorry, I spaced out.”

“What do you think?” Hye Soo asks, her hands on her waist. It didn’t help because Ji Hoon can now see her curves visibly. He swallows again and tilts his head. He’s about to say something when the saleslady speaks.

“I think he’s speechless because of your beauty, ma’am.” the saleslady said while smiling. Hye Soo looks at the flustered Ji Hoon, his hand at the back of his head while he laughs it off nervously.

“That’s the one.” Ji Hoon said while pointing at Hye Soo. Hye Soo absentmindedly points her finger to herself while giving Ji Hoon a questioning look. Ji Hoon nods while smiling at her. Seconds later, she realizes how foolish she looks so she clears her throat and composed herself.

“Araso, this one then.” She says then sighs. She’s about to change into her clothes but Ji Hoon stopped her.

“Just a second. Pose for me.” Ji Hoon said as he positions himself to take a picture of her. Hye Soo willingly poses as Ji Hoon takes pictures with his phone.

After that, Hye Soo chuckles and went back inside the fitting room. Little did she know, Ji Hoon took candid picture of her as she checks herself out at the mirror and before she goes inside the fitting room.

~

After choosing Hye Soo’s outfit, they went to Dior for Ji Hoon’s. Good thing these boutiques value their customers’ privacy especially celebrities.

“Do you have an idea or inspiration for your outfit?” Hye Soo asks him as soon as they settled on the couch inside the VIP room.

“Hmm, I wanted to look like a tteokboki or soju. Last time, my pink suit was inspired by a sausage.” Ji Hoon casually answered. Hye Soo looks at him then she bursts out her laugh. Ji Hoon fakes a frown at her laugh.

“I actually fitted a reddish orange suit awhile ago. But Nam Gil said I looked like a sunkist instead of tteokboki.” Ji Hoon pouts. Hye Soo stops laughing but she couldn’t stop, she lets out a chuckle at his childish antics.

“So you wanna look like a snack at the awards show. Let me think.” Hye Soo acts like she’s thinking of something.

“Aniyo, it’s fine. I think I’ll pick a suit that’s something similar to yours.” Ji Hoon looks away and smiles timidly. He’s like a grade-schooler tryna score to his crush.

“Ah, yes. You’ll look as good as a snack even without trying to look like one.” Hye Soo absentmindedly uttered while browsing the boutiques magazine. Ji Hoon’s eyes widens, he looks at her. He’s about to say something but the saleslady comes out from nowhere and started entertaining them.

~

It’s Ji Hoon’s second fit. He fidgets with the buttons of the suit as he comes out of the fitting room.

“So?” His voice cracks, so he clears his throat. Hye Soo is looking at him and he’s nervous.

“Hmm.” Hye Soo looks at him from head to toe. She circles him as she checks out every part of his body.

“Hm-mhm.” Hye Soo shakes her head saying ‘no’ to that suit. Ji Hoon nodded and went back inside the fitting room.

Hye Soo was scrolling through her IG when she heard Ji Hoon clears his throat. She looks at him.

If their fans can see her eyes right now, it’s sparkling. She didn’t have to look at every part of his body; she just knows he looks good in it. It’s a simple black suit, white shirt underneath and a bow tie. Ji Hoon looks really good to her that she can already imagine walking down the red carpet with him. Hell, she could even imagine walking down the aisle with him waiting on the other side. But that’d be too delusional of her.

Hye Soo came back to her senses when Ji Hoon snapped his finger at her face. Hye Soo sighs and swallows and she looks away to hide her embarrassment.

“That’s okay.” Hye Soo said, plainly. She browsed the magazine still trying to hide her uneasiness.

“I think it’s too plain, sir.” The saleslady says as she puts a hand at Ji Hoon’s triceps and checks him out. Hye Soo quickly looks at them, irked by what’s happening. She scoffed softly, not letting the two hear it, and then she smiles before speaking.

“I think it looks good. I have a brooch pin that would look perfectly for that suit.” Hye Soo said while smiling.

Ji Hoon tried to hide his smile and straighten his stance.

~

After picking their outfits for the show, Ji Hoon offered Hye Soo a ride to her home. Hye Soo agrees as she feels tired already and driving would exhaust her more.

“Do you think we can walk down the red carpet together?” Ji Hoon asks as he drives. Hye Soo looks at him.

“That would mean you’ll have to wait for me. It’s okay, I don’t want to trouble you.” Hye Soo answers and smiles genuinely. Ji Hoon lets out a sigh.

They arrived at Hye Soo’s house safely. They bid farewell to each other and says that they’ll see each other on the awards show.

~

Hye Soo sighs as she remembers how her day went with him and smiles as she closes her door. As soon as she sits on the couch, her phone vibrates. It’s a DM from username @_jujihoon on IG. Hye Soo opens the DM.

It’s a photo where she poses like a queen ready to take her throne.

Another photo pops up from Ji Hoon. It’s a candid shot of her going inside the fitting room. It’s just her back and her leg is showing through the back slit of the dress and that’s more than enough to make that photo looks sexy.

A message pops up seconds later after the photos.

Thank you for the brooch pin, take good care of my white coat :) – @_jujihoon

~

Note: Just a teeny tiny bit of a detail, I dreamed of Ji Hoon posting pictures on his IG. Some were pictures of him and two of the pictures he posted were candid shots of Hye Soo’s back as she goes inside a fitting room. I literally got goosebumps when Hye Soo posted that picture above (the 2nd pic), it looked really similar to that pic in my dream.

My dream felt so real that I thought I wasn’t dreaming. I was even talking to some moots on Twitter in that dream that’s why I thought it's real. 😅 Anyway, go on. 😊 Thank you for reading this fic. 🥰

[virtchandmoir]

Olympic ice-dance champions Virtue and Moir: 'We’re so proud of our relationship'

June 18, 2019

The Canadian gold medallists talk to Eoin O’Callaghan about winning gold, maintaining a professional relationship and ignoring fan fiction

Virtue and Moir perform at the 2018 Winter Olympics: ‘I went into the penultimate lift in Pyeongchang and I got chills because I felt the energy and electricity in the building shift’. Photograph: Phil Noble/Reuters

There’s a guy at a bar nursing a drink. He looks up and catches the eye of a girl nearby. They share a knowing glance. And that’s the moment. It’s a scene from a litany of TV shows and films. But, it’s also the story of Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir’s rebirth. And given the hopelessly romantic and cinematic dimension to their partnership, the story fits perfectly.

“We were on a charity trip to Scotland [in 2015] and they were showing an Olympic video,” Moir remembers. “I looked over at Tessa. We kind of have our own language. And I was like, ‘We’re going to do one more Olympics, aren’t we?’ And she was like, ‘Oh, yeah’. I turned around to the bartender, ordered three more beers and just thought, ‘Okay, here we go’”.

At the time, the celebrated Canadian ice-dance duo were on a break. Embittered and irritated with skating, they’d stepped away from competing and were mulling their next move. After a period of unprecedented success between 2010 and 2012, things shifted substantially prior to the Winter Olympics in Sochi. The entire experience, which culminated in a bitterly disappointing silver medal, was clouded by a simmering rift with coach Marina Zoueva and newspaper claims that the ice-dance result had been fixed by American and Russian judges.

It was supposed to be Virtue and Moir’s perfect swansong but instead they headed into presumed retirement full of anger, frustration and resentment. Moir, in particular, was disillusioned by all of it.

“I was just kind of sour with the sport,” he says. “I didn’t want anything to do with it. I went into a period of excessive partying and doing anything that wasn’t figure skating, really. I went and built a house with my brother. I shut the whole world out and shut everything down.”

But the break – regardless of the emotions that came with it – was badly needed. “Gaining the perspective to reflect and reassess was paramount,” Virtue says.

After discussing a comeback in more detail, they earmarked former Canadian ice-dancers Marie-France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon as coaches and were eager to move to Montreal and get things started. But during their first conversation, Lauzon wanted them to explain their motivation for returning. It was a pre-requisite, he told them.

“That floored us,” Moir says. “We couldn’t get out of it by just saying, ‘We want to win.’ He just said, ‘Well, that might not be enough. You need more than that if you want to come to our school.’ It came down to the fact that we just felt we had more to give.”

In a new place and with a new coaching team, they were determined to push boundaries and rediscover the sport.

“We weren’t conforming to any one thing,” Virtue says. “We lost this sense of trying to appease everyone else. We were more secure in who we were as people and athletes. We were more secure in what we stood for, what we valued and the art we wanted to create. I always loved skating but you can get hardened by it and it’s discouraging and disheartening. You can lose that spark. Montreal ignited it again.”

In September 2016, they stepped into a rink in the Montreal borough of Pierrefonds and competed for the first time in two-and-a-half years at the Skate Canada Autumn Classic. The short dance was an electric, sensual tribute to Prince. Paired with the tenderness and contemporary slant of their free dance, it was a magnetic and thrilling package.

Even so, it seemed a long shot that they would get the better of Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron, the French duo who were back-to-back world champions and unbeaten in two years. So, it was astonishing when Virtue and Moir ended the year on top of the Grand Prix podium for the first time in their careers and followed that up with a World Championship gold in 2017.

Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir celebrate after becoming Olympic champions. Photograph: Aris Messinis/AFP/Getty Images

“I don’t think people truly understand how difficult that is,” Moir says. “Three years is a long time. The game had evolved. And we’re back in the arena, with the bright lights and everyone’s faces looking back at us again. We did everything we could to prepare but there were a lot of tough steps. The goal was to not be our old selves. We knew we made a mistake in 2014. We didn’t pick music that was dear to our hearts and weren’t personally invested in a program. We vowed to never do that again.”

The new era was exciting but still left Virtue slightly underwhelmed. She was expecting something bigger, more explosive.

“I thought we’d have this Ziggy Stardust moment,” she says. “‘Representing Canada, Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir’ and the whole crowd would turn and gasp and say, ‘Who? Who’s that blonde girl? That’s not Tessa.’ I thought we would totally reinvent ourselves. But it was finding the balance. ‘Are we doing things differently just to be different or to be better?’ And that was a constant dialogue between us.”

For Moir, the entire process became a safe harbour as he navigated a particularly difficult period.

“2017 was probably one of the hardest years of my life,” he admits. “There were a lot of personal struggles. I lost some very important people. I had a best friend and then a grandfather pass away. Through it all, skating became an anchor. I used to think of it as a job. Now it was getting me through and giving me hope. Through all the heartache, it seemed worth it. Heading into the Olympic season, we were ready for almost anything.”

In the build-up to Pyeongchang, they were consistently behind Papadakis and Cizeron, particularly in the free dance. So, they dramatically altered their sombre Moulin Rouge routine to make it more Olympic-friendly.

“We changed about two minutes of our program entirely,” Virtue says. “We listened to people for eight years telling us we needed a big ending, people on their feet and the music to reach this massive crescendo. That’s the Olympic moment people want. Once we were able to find that, it soared and began to take shape.”

It worked.

The subsequent free dance performance sits alongside Torvill and Dean’s 1984 Bolero as the greatest ice-dance moment in history. Those four spellbinding minutes were not only enough to ensure astounding and unlikely Olympic golds for the pair but to also define Virtue and Moir’s legacy.

“I had never felt momentum during a performance before,” Virtue says. “We felt flow in Vancouver [when they won gold in 2010] and we chased that feeling for eight years. I went into the penultimate lift in Pyeongchang and I got chills because I felt the energy and electricity in the building shift.”

A different kind of momentum had been growing for a while too.

Unlike their French rivals, Virtue and Moir took part in the team figure skating event a week earlier and quickly became viral sensations. In front of a global audience, the intensity of their chemistry, their innate closeness and the suggestiveness of certain choreography whipped new-found fans into a frenzy, especially across social media. When they found out Virtue and Moir were not involved in a romantic relationship, they didn’t really accept it. Instead, they started to fantasize.

There are dark corners of the digital sphere devoted to them, including some intense fan fiction. The disciples – and there are a lot of them – obsess over every look and every caress. “It’s probably healthier to avoid it,” Virtue says.

But that’s easier said than done. Last year, Moir spoke eloquently about the impact his unique athletic setup had on his personal life and how some partners found it difficult to properly understand his dynamic with Virtue. Before the Olympics, he was already daydreaming about what was on the other side. It’s why he’s so ready to move on to a new post-skating chapter and focus on things he spent so long sacrificing.

“I was ready for that transition,” he says. “It was always skating first and I was finally at a point in my life where I could be a contributing member of my family and actually search for a life partner.”

Their relationship is a curious thing. When I ask Virtue to define it, she takes a deep breath. “We’re the worst at answering this question”, she begins. “I wish we could help ourselves and everyone else.”

She speaks uninterrupted for a few minutes. It’s essentially a meandering run-on sentence. Then she apologizes profusely for not supplying the right answer. But, of course, she had done. It’s why the moment of their eyes meeting in Scotland explains so much of their story. Words are limiting and what Virtue and Moir have goes far beyond that, almost existing in the abstract.

“We were made for each other, in a work relationship,” Moir says. “There’s real love there. We’re so proud of the business relationship we have. And that’s the story we want to tell more than anything. Judging by my girlfriend’s Twitter, I think fans are disappointed a little bit that we’re not a couple but we have a very amazing, unique relationship that hopefully young people can look at and think, ‘Wow, that should be inspirational in its own right’”.

When they stood on the podium immediately after their Olympic victory, Virtue – normally so poised – uncharacteristically welled up. “It was seeing 20 years flash in front of me,” she says. Her voice cracks so she nervously laughs to cover the lump in her throat.

“The little seven and nine-year-old kids who got together, who didn’t speak and who just skated around a rink holding hands. On the world’s biggest stage, with all of that pressure, in that very moment ... I was just very proud of Scott. It’s funny. We both have this thing where it’s hard for us to acknowledge our own success but we’re able to see it in each other.”

Currently, there’s an adjustment period. It’s not about the Olympics anymore. There are touring shows to produce and various other projects to plan for. They both admit that fully appreciating what they have and what they’ve gone through together is something that will only come much later.

For Moir, he’s still struggling to wrap his head around the last year and a half. “I don’t know how to explain it and I don’t think I even have a proper perspective on it yet,” he says. “It seems like it was a fairytale when I look back now.”

—The Guardian

[jankyunsolved]

Title: Find Balance [in your life] Summary: Who knew Steven Lim could inspire Ryan to go home to his two favorite people?

Or: Ryan Bergara works too hard and neglects what’s important, but his partners welcome him home anyway.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983251

Sara 💓: The bed is cold without you.

Ryan glanced at his phone and did a double take when he saw it was a text from his group chat with Shane and Sara. He picked up his phone with shaking hands, the coffee he just finished still rushing through his veins, and opened the text.

When was the last time he saw Sara? Shane, he saw almost every day, but Sara? He hadn’t slept at their place since they announced the launch of Watcher, and that was weeks ago. He slept at his much closer house, or as of late, on the floor of the office for cat naps.

He’d been working nonstop on getting videos edited, checking Instagram, Snapchat, YouTube, and Twitter, meeting with sponsors and completing paperwork; creating their own channel was a never ending job.

Shane’s been working from home for almost a week and a half due to a minor disagreement between them (first big fight since he began dating Shane and Sara, and Ryan couldn’t even remember what it was about, so he tripled his workload instead of dealing with it) and Steven left for the night a few minutes ago, so Ryan was alone, frantically working on edits and posts that could probably wait until Monday.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. It was already 9:53, and if he could just finish this final edit, he might be able to leave and sleep in his own bed by 1:00AM before coming back to the office bright and early on a Saturday to try and get ahead. “Sorry,” he started to type. “Work calls.” He almost hit send when he got a notification that Steven posted a video on Instagram.

He watched the video. It was Steven in that very office, and Ryan must’ve been making coffee when he made it, because his workstation was dark and empty.

It was just Steven, sitting in a chair in an empty room, talking. But what he had to say was more inspirational than Ryan was expecting. Taking care of yourself, fostering your relationships, finding hobbies, leaving work when the temptation is there to keep working.

Ryan felt like he couldn’t breathe, one phrase echoing inside his head: “My identity doesn’t only live in my work.” He looked around his small space, at his open laptop and desktop, at the lack of pictures, doodles, little knick knacks that would usually surround him as he worked. Plain white. And he knew that they were moving to an even bigger office soon, but that didn’t stop Steven or Shane from decorating their small space.

He pushed himself away from his desk, ducking his head between his knees. Anxiety rippled through his body. How much has Watcher taken over my life?

After breathing and waiting for the wave of nausea to leave, he opened his texts and flinched at what he almost texted Sara. “God, what a fucking fool,” he whispered as he erased what he typed and simply wrote, “I’m coming home.” He hoped that not only would Sara welcome him this late, but that whatever happened between him and Shane could be squashed as well. “Wishful thinking,” Ryan said, pulling himself back to his desk. “I don’t even know what we fought about.”

He saved what he was working on, turned off all the tech in the small office that they were temporarily occupying, and glanced at the board. 80,000 subscribers. 20,000 away from the goal their sponsors were expecting to be met by January 10th. How to get 20,000 over a holiday…

“Stop,” Ryan said out loud. “Business can wait until Monday. Sara is waiting for you, and maybe Shane too.”

He put on his backpack, turned off the lights, and made his way to the elevator, waving to the security guard who was stationed on the floor. With laser focus, Ryan pressed the down button, got on the elevator, and went to the parking garage beneath the building.

Keys in hand, Ryan ran to his car. The quicker he got in his car, the less likely he was gonna turn around and go back to work. He blasted music in his car, a mix of local LA rappers and the metal of his youth, to make sure he stayed awake, and then he made his way to Shane and Sara’s apartment.

Traffic was terrible, as always, and he made it to their apartment a little after eleven. He parked his car in the last available parking spot and then grabbed his bag, hesitating for a moment. He looked at his phone and saw that Sara responded.

Sara 💓: I’ll reheat a snack for you.

He didn’t know what to say. How could he thank her when he was being the worst? He took a shuddering breath and opened his car door.

 It’s now or never.

He had keys to their apartment, so he didn’t waste time by knocking on the door. He just unlocked it and stepped inside, quietly closing and locking the door behind him. He slipped off his shoes and lined them up with the others that were in the entryway and dropped his bag by Sara’s.

There were few lights on in the apartment. The Christmas tree was lit up, and Ryan saw Obi curled up beneath it, watching him. The light was on in the kitchen, and Ryan went there first. Standing at the microwave was Sara, in an old t-shirt that she usually slept in. She turned and looked at Ryan, and the genuine smile that graced her mouth brought tears to his eyes.

“Hey,” she said softly, as if she could see and feel his fragility. “We had Chinese and we got all your favorites, which you can eat tomorrow.” Just before the microwave beeped, Sara turned and opened it, taking out two egg rolls on a small plate.

Ryan beamed and stepped fully into the kitchen, reached for Sara and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood in silence, Sara leaning into Ryan as he devoured the eggrolls, his hands shaking as he consumed something that wasn’t a granola bar or coffee. She had her arm wrapped around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder.

When he was finished, she took the plate from him and washed it and Ryan dried it before putting it back in its place. Then he finally looked at Sara again and blew out a heavy breath. “Shane?” he asked, not sure what he was asking, not sure what he was wanting to know.

“Downstairs, getting some sheets from the dryer.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and looked up at him. “You look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted.”

“Bed?”

Ryan shrugged. “I just had coffee and I need to shower and my mind is just running running running—“ Ryan froze when Sara interrupted him with a kiss, sensing he was on his way to a rambling frenzy.

“Shower. Sleepy Time Tea. Bed. I already set out clothes for you in the bathroom.”

“Oh Sara,” he kissed her softly and she sighed against his mouth. “What did I do to deserve you?”

-----

Ryan turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain just as there was a knock on the unlocked door. “Yeah?” It opened slowly, and there was Shane with a towel folded over his arm.

“Hey,” he said softly, and Ryan smiled, stepped out of the tub and onto the mat.

“Hey.” He reached for the towel that Shane had, but paused when Shane closed the distance, unfolded it, and began gently drying him off with the still warm towel. He must’ve dried it with the sheets. Ryan’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but he found he couldn’t even say anything.

Reverently, Shane made sure that Ryan was dry, starting at his head and moving down, even kneeling at his feet to dry his legs. Once again, Ryan felt fragile, as if his very core was made of glass. He looked down at Shane, his vision swimming in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, needing to apologize, needing to say something, “I’m sorry I’ve been so impatient and stressed and I took it out on you.”

Knelt at his feet, Shane looked up at him, and Ryan’s knees trembled as Shane opened his mouth and paused, before saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t try and talk to you sooner.” Shane then pressed his forehead against his hip for a moment, hugging his legs. Ryan shook harder as he ran his fingers through Shane’s hair.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, Ryan trying to stay upright, and Shane holding him. A few tears finally escaped his eyes and he swallowed thickly; Shane just squeezed him tighter. Ryan was thankful Shane didn’t try and talk him through this, giving him a few moments of peace that he didn’t even know he desperately needed.

When Ryan finally stopped sniffling, Shane kissed his hip and pulled away. “Sara made some tea.” His thumbs rubbed soothingly as Ryan still trembled.

“Okay.”

“You think you can drink it?”

“I—I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Let’s try.”

Shane stood up, groaning as his knees popped, but he just smiled and shrugged at Ryan, as if to say, “What can ya do?” He hung the towel up and went to the still open door, pausing as Ryan slipped on pajama pants and a t-shirt. They linked fingers and Ryan followed him to the couch where Sara was nestled in the corner with her own cup, and another one was on the coffee table. Obi had moved from the tree to nestle in Sara’s lap.

Ryan sat down next to Sara, easing himself until he was pressed against her side. Sara cradled her cup in one hand and took Ryan’s in her other. Shane draped a blanket over his lap, and then handed him his tea.

Ryan sipped at the perfect blend of chamomile and vanilla as Shane fiddled with the remotes until a roaring fire appeared on the TV. Ryan grinned; Shane and Sara went absolutely wild for this kind of stuff. When the fire was on, Shane finally settled on the couch, sitting on Ryan’s other side and resting his arm behind him.

Halfway through his tea, as Obi went from Sara’s lap to his and was making biscuits on his stomach, Ryan’s eyes began to close and his head rocked forward.

“Let’s get you to bed, Little Guy,” Shane said softly, collecting his mug. Sara picked up Obi and Ryan stretched and stood up, folding the blanket and leaving it on the couch. Sara took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where it was nice and cool. Obi jumped from Sara’s arm and made his way to his little cat bed in the corner.

“Wanna be in the middle?”

“God, yes,” he said, around another yawn. He crawled onto the bed and Sara pulled the blanket up and over him before getting in on her side and snuggling up to him. The sheets and blanket still held some warmth from the dryer, and Ryan burrowed deeper into the bed, making himself comfortable. He could hear Shane moving around the apartment, turning off lights, the TV, and double checking the door.

Ryan shivered when Sara slipped her hand into his hair and began massaging his scalp. “Ooooh fuuuuuuck,” he swore, his entire body going limp as she giggled. He didn’t even notice Shane coming into the room until he felt warmth at his back and an arm on his waist.

His eyes slid shut and he felt Shane lean over him and kiss Sara, whispering, “Goodnight, babe.” Then he felt Shane’s lips on his own cheek. “Goodnight, Ry-babe.”

Ryan tried to say goodnight, and he must’ve said something because he could hear Sara giggle and he felt Shane’s huff of breath against his cheek, but he was already falling fast asleep, nestled between his two favorite people

[petersshirts]

Fallin’ All In You | tom holland

summary: everything just feels right since you came along

words: 1,8 K

warnings: swearing

a/n: this has been sitting in my documents for quite a while and I don’t really know why I didn’t post it yet, but here you go! this is inspired by a song from Shawn Mendes by the way, that guy has my heart!! just some fluff for you guys, I hope you like it!! please let me know what you think, I appreciate every single one of you!

The sun shining through the window tickled Toms’ nose and got him to slowly wake up and open his eyes, trying to find out where he was. When he saw the familiar ceiling, he realised that he was just at home but when he felt something move on his chest, he curiously looked down to find you, sound asleep on his chest. He smiled, remembering what had happened last night after you went out to the pub with all your friends. And one drink after another lead to you in his bed, both of you naked under the covers. And even though you were not a couple, Tom couldn’t stop wondering about what would happen now.

Tom had met you a month ago when Harrison had introduced you as an old school friend and Tom was hooked. You were kind and funny, and whenever Tom was around you, he felt happy. But since now, the two of you had never gone another step, only talking and meeting up together with your friends, even though Tom wanted more. And last night, the two of you had been wasted, making Tom brave and finally find the guts to kiss you. And that’s how you ended up here, entangled with each other. And Tom had to admit that he loved waking up next to you and not all alone.

Suddenly, you started moving and slowly turned towards him, making Toms’ heart flutter. Even though your hair was everywhere and you had huge bags under your eyes, you still looked so beautiful. „Hm, hi,“ you mumbled and send him a tired smile, and Tom could only smile back, still not believing that you were in his bed. „Morning, darling,“ he softly pressed a kiss on your forehead. You slowly moved out of his grasp to put on some clothes, a frown settling on Toms’ lips.

„Where are you going?“ You looked up to Tom while putting on your old clothes from last night. „Home?“ You raised an eyebrow because you were sure that he wanted you out of the house. This had been a one-night stand, even though the two of you had sent each other a lot of flirty glances for the last few weeks. Tom was up in an instant and you quickly averted his gaze because he was completely naked, only reminding you of your late night activities. „No, no, don’t go!“ He walked towards you and you put your hand in front of your eyes, laughing. „Okay first, put on some damn clothes!“ Tom quickly found some boxers and some sweats to put on and stood in front of you after a few seconds with a grin on his face. He softly grabbed your hands and stroked them, gaining your attention. „Please don’t go.“ You thought about it, knowing that it was a bad decision if this was only a one-time thing. But if there was more…

„But I don’t have anything to wear, these clothes reek of beer and smoke,“ you pouted and Tom gave you a sign to wait and rushed to his wardrobe and brought back some sweats and dark green hoodie, handing them to you. „Here you go. Now go and get dressed, I’m gonna make us some breakfast.“ And with that, he disappeared out o the room, leaving you standing in his bedroom, smiling.

After you got dressed, you freshened up and walked into the kitchen, finding Tom in front of the stove, humming a song that was softly playing through the speakers. You were not quite sure how to approach him but your heart outweighed your brain so you walked up to him and hugged him from behind, your cheek pressed to his warm back. Tom chuckled but stayed like he was, focused on whatever he was making for the two of you.

„Hi there, handsome.“ you murmured and let him go to look over his shoulder to see that he was making you pancakes, your favourite dish in the morning. Tom pressed a kiss to your cheek and continued cooking while you walked around the kitchen, trying to find the plates and cutlery to set the table. The two of you worked around each other in comfortable silence; it felt so natural even though you were doing this for the first time. Breakfast was finally ready and you ate while talking about everything but somehow still avoiding what had happened last night. But it was something that was burning on your tongue because after that kiss and that night, you couldn’t just let it be. You liked Tom a lot and you hoped that he was feeling the same way.

After finishing breakfast, you helped Tom cleaning up and you knew that it was your time to go because there was nothing else to do. You walked towards the bedroom to get your stuff but Tom stopped you.

„Y/N, wait!“ You turned around, just to see Tom in front of you, looking quite nervous. „What is it?“ You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms in front of your chest, not knowing what to do. „Um, I kinda wanna talk about what happened last night. About what’s going to happen.“ His fingers fidgeted and you just nodded, knowing that you had to talk about this. But you were scared about what Tom thought about this night. You just nodded and you walked to the sofa, sitting down.

„I don’t want this to be just a One Night Stand,“ Tom spoke quickly because he knew that if he wouldn’t say something, he would never do it. Your eyes widened and you tried to process what he had said. That he wanted more.

„I know, we’ve known each other for one month but you mean a lot to me Y/N. And I want you to know that I want more, that I want you.“ A smile formed on your lips and your heart fluttered, a blush growing on your cheeks. Tom was now the one looking at you, waiting for an answer.

It took you a few seconds to find the words you wanted to say. „You mean a lot to me too, Tom. And I would love to get to know you a lot better and maybe wake up with you in the morning a lot?“ It sounded so weird that it came from your lips, but you meant it. Tom was grinning now and launched forwards to hug you close. You breathed in the familiar scent that was so especially him, closing your eyes in happiness. The next seconds his lips were on yours and you moaned at the pleasure, finally having his lips back on yours, even though it had only been a couple hours.

When Tom pulled back, his eyes met yours and he smiled, his nose nudging yours. „I’m falling right in you, babe.“

___________________________________

„Oh come on Y/N, don’t be like that!“ Tom groaned, jumped up and followed you into the kitchen, completely naked. You had thrown over your nightgown and headed to the door, just wanting to escape this situation. But when you started slipping your boots on, a hand stopped you. You looked up to look into your boyfriends’ angry face. „Y/N, you’re only wearing a nightgown and it’s freezing cold, you’re not going anywhere.“

You ripped your arm from him and continued putting your shoes on. „I can do whatever I want, asshole.“ Tom sighed, knowing that this was useless. The two of you had a spectacular night full of pleasure and love-making, but when you found a picture on Twitter of Tom and some fan, you flipped.

„Y/N, stop this. You know that I love you, there is no one else but you. Please believe me.“ Tom was desperate, knowing that you would actually go out of your shared apartment and find another place to sleep for the night even though you were completely overreacting. You looked up at him and suddenly the tears started flowing. Tom was next to you in a second and pulled you towards him, holding you close. You sobbed into his shirt, not really knowing what was going on. You knew that you had been quite sensitive for the past few days because of your period, but today had been the peak. You knew that Tom would never cheat on you and your behaviour was stupid, but you just couldn’t help it.

You and Tom had been together for around three years now and even though you had your ups and downs, you loved Tom with all your heart and you were a happy couple until you had those phases where you would just yell at Tom without any reason. But he was always there to pick you back up and you were so grateful that he didn’t give up on you.

„I’m sorry,“ you sobbed into his shirt, clawing your fingers into his skin. Tom just murmured soothing words in your ear, letting you know that you would be just fine. He slowly lifted you up and you looped your legs around his waist. Your boyfriend walked back to the bedroom and laid down, pulling you even closer. The tears had dried and you were just sniffing, trying to calm down.

It was silent for a few minutes until you spoke up again. „I’m sorry I overreact sometimes.“ You looked up to Tom and he only pressed a kiss on the side of your lips as an answer. „I still can’t believe that everything worked out so well though. Out of that one-night stand.“

„It was the best decision I ever made when I got you to talk to me about that night. I don’t regret anything ever since that day when it comes to you.“ Tom smiled at you and his face was glowing, causing you to grin up at him. You pulled his head down to press your lips against his. With Tom, it felt easy even if it wasn’t, sometimes. But with him by your side, everything was possible. Two lovers in an apartment, all your actions spoke of the love you felt.

„I fall more in love with you every day,“ you whispered when you pulled back from the kiss and laid your head on his chest. Tom chuckled and pressed a kiss on your hair, your eyes closing at the soft touch. „Me too, love. And I can’t wait to experience so many more things with you. I’m all yours, baby.“

„All yours.“

Permanent Taglist and my lovely mutuals:

@smexylemony // @ive-got-more-wit // @lou-la-lou // @loxbbg // @seanna313 // @underoos-shield // @hollandfieldblurbs // @supernatural-strangerthings-1980 // @ixchel-9275 // @thejourneyneverendsx // @sideeffectsofyou // @teenwolfbitches2 // @mywinterwolf // @alex--awesome--22 // @wronglanemendes // @keithseabrook27 // @tomshufflepuff // @peterpumpkinparker // @underoos-shield // @mr-delmar // @twilightparker // @h-osterfield // @revengingbarnes // @moonkissedtom // @curlytoms // @holland-peters // @fratboievans // @rainbow-marvel // @spiderrrling // @hufflebucky // @hollandroos // @naturallytom

[hana1379]

Bad Intentions

Summary: You and Bucky have a date planned but will it ever come through?

Pairing: 30s/40s! Bucky x reader

Warnings: poor grammar, lots of dialogues, tiny angst if you squint, a couple of vulgarities describing a mans member, smut at the end, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, pull out method (yeah we know it’s not necessarily safe but I don’t think in 1930s people knew that)

Words: 4,750k (I’m a wordy bitch you can’t stop me)

Notes: 

It feels so strange to post something after a long hiatus but you can blame @jaamesbbarnes and her Two Punks in Love for inspiring me into this. You should go and check out it and as well her other works, Doriane is brilliant. 

Also as you will read and see the fic takes place before WWII maybe it's 1938  so Bucky's 20 and the reader is his peer or she's younger than him. 

I don’t know wheather people called or still call their parents mama and papa but I think it’s cute

Happy Single Day, Happy Valentine Day or whatever you are celebrating

If you spot any mistakes please blame my lack of education and Grammarly. 

Feedback, comments are always more than welcome. Enjoy!

PS. I think I need a beta reader lol  

Bucky was swaggering in his best suit and his best shoes through the streets of Brooklyn to your house. A calla lilies bouquet in his hand, for you of course. He didn't know much about flowers but the lady at florist's said you'd like them and who he was to argue with a specialist?  He practiced once more the whole plan.

You'll greet him at the door and he will give you the flowers. He'll peck you on the cheek.

You'll invite him in and he will say hello to your parents (he would like to avoid this part especially the one when he has to shake your father's hand, he knew the man hated him)

You'll put the flowers into the vase and he will briefly talk with your folks maybe even with your brother Robbie if he'll catch him home.

You'll say you both had a date in the park and you'll say your goodbyes.

Instead of going to the park, you'll go to Bucky's place as you both planned to do this.

A year ago he wouldn't even think he will be dating his friend's Robbie sister, the one who brought her brother lunch to the factory where Bucky and your brother worked. The one who was smiling shyly at him and who blushed awkwardly when he flirted with you. You weren't interested in meeting him at all, excusing yourself with knowledge about Bucky's shenanigans with other girls. But after a 6th time, you gave in and said yes to a double date with Steve and your friend. Poor Steve. Such a shame nothing ever happened between Steve and your friend Mary but Bucky didn't want to think about Steve. All he had and wanted to think about was you and him at his place. Alone.

Bucky smiled at his bad intentions, he waited so long to finally have you but you didn't like it for the first time so you waited another couple weeks before you decided to try this again. Comparing you now to you he met a year ago it was like comparing two different persons. Sure, you still were polite and modest but only with Bucky by your side unchaperoned, you became more open and as he noticed, you loved kissing. And that was good because he loved kissing you and he was sure to give you lots and lots of kisses tonight.

His heart skipped a beat when he climbed to the stairs leading to your doors. He knocked and waited with a smile plastered on his face. Soon.

The door opened with a creak and Bucky wanted to greet you but instead of his beautiful girlfriend in the doorway stood your father with a frown on his face. Bucky was quick enough to hide the flowers behind his back.

"Barnes" your father stated and frowned even more "Robert's not home and I don't know when he'll come back"

"Mr. Y/L/N good afternoon!" Bucky greeted with a smile on his face but with 'you bastard' in his mind "I'm here for Y/N, we're supposed to go to the park. I'm sure your daughter told you about it"

Your father only pretended to think "No... I don't think she mentioned you at all" Bucky knew it was a lie, he knew from Robbie that you were twittering about your date for the last few days. "Sorry, pal. I don't think-"

"Papa!" your voice echoed through the corridor and soon you appeared beside your father catching the door which the ol' bastard wanted to close in front of Bucky "Papa, leave him alone" your father scoffed and turned to disappear behind the corner in your flat. Bucky took a moment to eyeball you. Your pretty face was wrapped in waves of your silky hair. The hairdo was called smooth pageboy or something like that. White blouse tuckered into a claret skirt and to Bucky, you couldn't look more beautiful.

"Bucky hi," you whispered and opened the door wider "Come on in". Moving slightly aside to make a room for him

"You look beautiful" Bucky breathed and smiled seeing you blush. He leaned down to kiss you. Forget the stupid, modest peck on the cheek, he wanted to kiss you on your plump lips, he wanted to be able to taste you, he wanted to-

"Who is it?" you mother's voice startled you both, you almost knocked down your late grandfather's mirror. But your mother beamed at Bucky. At least one of your parents liked him. "James! What a lovely surprise" your mother knowingly looked at you and if Bucky wouldn't know from Robbie that you told everyone at home he will be coming, he would know now.

"Hello Mrs. Y/L/N. Uh..." Bucky didn't know what he was doing, so his lifeline was the flowers and he moved his hand from behind his back "These are for you"

"Calla lilies! So beautiful! You are a sweet boy James. You have to stay for dinner" your mother said taking the flowers from Buck's hand

"No, that's-"

"Mama, we have a date and besides-"

"Yeah, and besides I already ate" Bucky tried to reason with your mother but she only raised her hand to shut you both up

"It's Sunday, we can have a meal together. It's almost ready so it won't take long and after that, you can go on your date. I won't take no for an answer" your mother turned to the corner from which she appeared earlier and Bucky turned to you not knowing what to do again. You only sighed and took his hand leading him to a small living room where your father was sitting and reading a paper. Bucky looked around the room. He was here once with Robbie and even then he noticed your family was wealthier than his or Steve's. No wonder with your father being a Great War veteran and still military working and your mother being an only good sewer in the area.

Your father scoffed as he read "Told you the war's coming" he yelled to your mother who was putting the flowers into the vase.

"I don't want to hear anything about the war today. We have a guest Richard, so behave yourself" your mother smiled sweetly at you and Bucky and he acknowledged from whom you inherited your smile. It was the same as your mother's.  

"Mama, can I show Bucky the dress we made for Mrs. Wilson?" you asked and Bucky smiled. He knew your intentions. They were as bad as his. The dress was an excuse to sneak with him for kiss heavily.

"Honey I don't think James is interested in looking at some dress and I would use your help in the kitchen"

"But-" you tried to argue with your mother and Bucky squeezed your hand. Soon, sweet girl, we'll have all the time in the world for ourselves. "Alright" you sighed and motioned him to sit down.

"You want anything to drink?" you asked shyly and Bucky shook his head, the faster you'll both leave this house the faster he'll be alone with you.

"No, thank you sweetheart" he smiled at you and you nodded heading to the kitchen to help your mother. Bucky was looking after you, how your hips were swaying with every step you took.

"Sweetheart huh?" your father scoffed and Bucky felt his ears burn. He had been caught red-handed staring at you. He slowly turned to face your father and to his relief, the man wasn't looking anywhere but his newspaper.

"Excuse me?" Bucky asked confused, he really didn't know what he was talking about

"Don't pretend Barnes, you know what I mean. The real question is do you care about my daughter?" your father rolled the paper and put it away. Bucky felt his mouth went dry as the man before him folded his arms on his chest waiting for his answer

"Yeah, yes, of course, I care about her. Y/N is smart, kind and I care about her a lot, she-"

"Cut the bullshit, if you'd care about her how much you state you do, you would already put a ring on her instead of fooling her around" your father got up from his chair and stood in front of Bucky and Barnes felt as small as a child or Steve in the back alley.

"I get that" your father sighed "I get that man has to blow off steam but not with my daughter, she's too trusting"

"So, you'd rather want me to marry her than date her?"

"Trust me, son, the war is coming and it's better to be you and not some random guy she'd decide to marry in the heat of the moment"

The only thought that ran through Bucky's head was what? and maybe what the hell?. But when he thought about it deeper and your father was right. When or if the war will come when he will be ship and maybe having someone who will wait for him in New York wasn't a bad idea, but the thought that you could be with someone else angered him. But still, he thought you're both too young.

But was he really in somebody's else eyes fooling you around? You were in love with him and he also loved you. You were his girl and everybody knew that.

You came into the room and announced the dinner was ready. Bucky followed you and to his relief, Robbie came back so that meant Bucky would be placed beside you where he could hold your hand for a while under the table. Your father was sitting at the head of the table. Pride of place. The dinner was served, a meatloaf with baked potatoes and roasted asparagus. Bucky was confused. Your family always ate this way or only on Sundays or maybe because of him your mother buckled down to cooking. Were they expecting him to ask for a blessing on marrying you? Bucky went pale, he didn't have a whiskey to share with your father. The causerie earlier about you, maybe that's when he wanted Bucky to ask about the blessing?

Suddenly Bucky felt a hand on his knee and he realized you were speaking to him. When he asked you to repeat you only chuckled

"I asked you if you're okay"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine" he intertwined your fingers with his and smiled at you but his smile didn't reach his eyes, he was too deep in his thoughts.

Your family was polite, Bucky was always included in the conversation, he noticed when Robbie was telling about something that included Bucky he asked for the latter to tell more or about more details because your brother 'forgot'.

When Bucky was feeling like he was about to burst after the diner your mother served chocolate pudding and there was no use in telling that he was full, your mother placed the bowl in front of him and sewed her mouth meaning she didn't want to hear a word of objection. Bucky briefly thought that your mother was fattening him but he quickly pulled this thought aside.

You were squirming beside Bucky, the more you were lingering with sitting in your house the less time you had for only the two of you.

"Mama, it was really delicious but we have to go" you said cautiously, your father looked at you and frowned

"Where?"

"We have a date in the park" your father turned around to look at the windows and you looked as well. It was dark outside. There was no way they were gonna let you leave the house alone, even if Bucky was with you.

"Honey it's late. Maybe next time" your mother said calmly and you felt your eyes water, you were pretty sure they did that on purpose. Bucky seeing in what state you were decided to he would go home. He thanked everyone for a nice afternoon, shook you father's and your brother's hand and moved to the doors.

"I will walk you" seeing your mother's terrified face you clarified "Just to the doors"

As soon as you were by the front doors you quickly buried your face in his chest. Bucky chuckled and wrapped his hands around you enveloping you in a warm embrace and his scent.

"We can wait till night and you can slip into my room" you whispered against his chest so no one but he could hear you. Bucky slowly took a step back and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs were running up and down on your cheeks.

"Darling I- it's too risky, if you father catches me then I'm dead. We don't have to. It's enough I've spent Sunday with my beautiful girl" he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead but you took a step back for the nth time that day Bucky was confused

"My parents, they scared you off didn't they?" you asked with tears in your eyes, Bucky was quick enough to grab your hands and hold you in place

"Hey, hey they didn't scare me off, nothing can. I love you Y/N you know that right? Nothing in this world can deter me from you" Bucky was searching for any doubts on your face and he found many but for now, his declaration and a kiss would do. He leaned down once again and one of his hands made it's way to your chin to tilt it up. He gently placed his lips on yours and waited until you kissed him back. He didn't have to wait long. You moaned into the kiss and he smiled against your lips. God, you were wonderful a true angel in disguise. You placed your hands on his neck pulling him closer to you, Bucky chuckled at your eagerness

"Sweetheart we have to stop or your brother will see us and he'll be browbeating me," he said against your lips and you pulled back reluctantly. Bucky grabbed the handle and opened the door "I love you doll" he kissed you on the cheek and disappeared behind closed door leaving you alone to deal with your family and with their teases.

You were lying in your bed later at night listening to the sound of the silence. You were slowly drifting away when you heard a soft clatter on your window. It wasn't stopping so you moved to the window but you couldn't see anybody. Brushing it off you walked back to your bed when again you heard that strange sound. You saw the cause of it- somebody was throwing little rocks at your window. You quickly moved to the window and irritated opened it to yell at this stupid prankster.

"Ow!" as soon as the window was opened you got hit right on your forehead by one of those little rocks.

"Oh shit! Y/N don't scream it's me!" Bucky was standing on the ground with a handful of those rocks. He was speaking with a hushed voice for not to alarm anyone.

"Bucky? What the hell?"  

"Y/N may I come in?" he threw the rocks behind himself now that he didn't need to catch your attention. You noticed he was looking like he had just run the marathon, his hair unkempt, his tie and jacket missing. He must've left them at home unless he had lost it on his way to your house.

"Go to the front doors, I'll open it"

"Nooooo, not the front doors, your father's gonna catch me and then I'm dead. I'll climb to the window" Was he slurring? Was he drunk? Did he come to you drunk?

"Bucky are you drunk?" the confirmation on your question was giggle and mumbling. Doors, you thought. Your doors don't have a lock. you quickly dragged one of the chairs and barricaded the doors with it. You looked around the room. What a shambles. On the day Bucky decided to walk into your room and it had to look like after the tornado. You grabbed one of your dresses and tossed it into your closet when you noticed several other dresses were hanging on the closet's door. You heard a grunt and turned around to see Bucky crawling up your window. "Bucky what were you thinking? You could've-"

"It's for you, doll" he interrupted you and in his outstretched hand, you saw a single dahlia. "I spent all my money on the bouquet but I gave it to your mother, I don't know why actually and then I was drinking with Steve and he was like 'You jerk! The flowers were for Y/N! How do you think she's feeling right now without her flowers?!' So when he passed out I took it from him and I came here to give you your flowers" Bucky looked at the flower in his hand "I must've broken the stalk on my way here" he mumbled

"Bucky," you moved to him and gently took the flower from his hand "You didn't have to give me flowers, it's not like I will die without them"

"Oh," Bucky was looking like he was thinking. Intensely. "So I broke the stalk for nothing?"

"No, no, no, it's really sweet of you. I like dahlias" you were looking at the flower and your fingers were stroking its orange petals. Bucky grinned at you

"You think I'm sweet?" you smiled at him and nodded

"Yes, especially when you're drunk" you yelped when Bucky suddenly hugged you and nuzzled his face in your neck peppering kisses on the skin

"I love you so much Y/N. Happy anniversary!" his lips moved from your neck to your jaw and then to your cheek and mouth, he then looked at your confused face "What? Exactly a year ago I met you" he hugged you one more time "You looked so cute in that cardigan with dragonflies on it. Oh wow! I think I can even see it among your clothes"

You pulled away from Bucky realizing he was aware of the total state in your room. "Bucky you should go home. I'm- there's such a mess in here, I don't want you to think I'm a slob" you plead him with your eyes and you saw a certain spark in his

"Alright, I'll go but I want a kiss" you sighed

"One kiss?" you asked and he smirked

"Yhm"

"And then you'll go?"

"Yes ma'am"

You put the flower you were still holding away and you moved to stand in front of Bucky tilting your head so you could capture his lips. Bucky placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. His kiss was gentle at the beginning reminding you the first time he had ever kissed you but then Bucky moaned and his grip on your waist tightened. He started moving you backwards until the back of your knees touched the edge of your bed. The air in your lungs left you when your back hit the mattress. But Bucky was looking smug, actually, he was looking like anything but worried about you.

You wanted to get up but pushed you on the bed once again sliding between your legs. "Bucky we-"

"We should Y/N" he interrupted you "Besides isn't it what we both wanted? What we both planned for tonight?" you hated that he was right and you hated that feeling in your core and you hated the fact that your breath hitched when he got rid of his suspenders

"Alright, Bucky but just be gentle" you were scared it was going to hurt like for the first time when you had to bite the bullet when Bucky was pushing inside you. Your boyfriend only stroked your cheek with his fingers and leaned to you

"Of course" his lips were brushing yours and you wanted to close the distance but every time you chased his lips he moved away "But as much as I like you in this nightgown I need you out of it"

"Yes sir but same to you" Bucky smirked and kissed you briefly before hopping out of your bed and getting rid of his shirt and trousers. He hastily took his undergarment mumbling 'holy shit' when he saw your naked breasts. He knew he would never get tired of that.

Instead of placing himself between your legs he lied down next to you and his hand traveled on your body. "Bucky what are you doing?" you frowned but soon his lips on your neck got you more and more relaxed

"Relax sweet thing, I just want to try something" his hand moved lower to the junction between your legs and you gasped "Relax" he murmured into your ear and you closed your eyes and let him do what he was doing. His fingers were running up and down your slit, a couple of times he circled the bundle of nerves at the top of your vulva. It did feel great but at the same time you were wondering where did he get to know it. "Does it feel good?" he smugly asked

"Yes but-"

"No buts. Just close your eyes and focus on the feeling" he slowly moved his fingers to your entrance and pushed one inside making your breath hitch. He started to move this finger in and out of you and you gripped tightly your bed sheets. Bucky chuckled, he was moving his finger faster than before and you felt the coil in your guts tighten "You want more sweetheart?" you only nodded not being able to arrange words into a coherent sentence. Bucky slid another finger beside the first one stretching you slightly. He was moving slowly letting you adjust. He had a front row ticket to the most incredible show of emotions playing on your face. He was watching as pleasure was swallowing you more and more and the thought that he was the source of your it was something to be proud of.

His neglected cock twitched when you moaned his name

"Bucky, Jesus please"

"What is it, girl? You want more?" he sped his fingers and your back arched. Who would have thought that only his fingers could bring you to the edge? Bucky started kissing and sucking on your neck, not too harsh, he didn't want to leave any hickeys. When he moved to your pulse point and nibbled at it you covered your mouth with your hand and screamed into it. Bucky felt your walls squeezing his fingers and he made a note to himself to make you squeeze his dick once he would be inside you.

Your breath was erratic, your chest moving up and down in rapid motion. Bucky smiled and kissed you on the cheek. He withdrew his fingers and moved to kneel between your legs

"O my God. That was-" you started but then your eyes narrowed at him "Where did you learn that?" Bucky only laughed

"Believe me, baby, you don't want to know it right now"

"Picture that I do"

Bucky knew only truth could save him. He knew it was looking like he had cheated on you where else he could learn something like that? "All right. Robbie told me about it" you frowned

"My brother told you about it? You were talking about this with my brother?" Bucky chuckled

"Told you-you wouldn't want to think about it" he leaned down to you and captured your lips in a kiss which you eagerly give back. Bucky tilted his head to the side deepening the kiss when one of his hands moved between your bodies to guide his member in. You gasped feeling his cock head at your entrance. Barnes moved his hips pushing into you slightly so that the head of his cock was inside you.

"Bucky" you moved your hands to grip his face and make him look at you "I love you" Bucky pushed a couple inches in and you squeezed your walls making him moan.

"Sweetheart am I hurting you?" he asked and placed his slightly dump forehead on your shoulder

"No, no, it's good. Please don't stop" you whimpered and squeezed again when he pushed inside and he chuckled

"You have to stop doing that. At least until I'm seated"

"I'll try" Bucky smirked at your reply. Again pride blossomed inside him that he was the one who was making you feel this way.

Truth to your words you were refraining yourself from squeezing him until he was seated to the hilt inside you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to hold onto something, anything. Bucky was waiting for some time letting you adjust before he started rocking his body into yours. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and it made Bucky move faster. His lips were kissing every piece of your skin they could reach. Your own lips, your jaw, cheeks, and neck were covered with his kisses as he was praising you, telling you how good you felt and how right. Your back arched as the tip of his cock brushed against one spot in your body about which existence you didn't even know.

Bucky knew he wouldn't last long and neither did you with the way your walls were squeezing him, so he opted for one more thing Robbie told him about. He licked the pad of his thumb and move it between your bodies. Your body convulsed when he started to circle your bundle of nerves with his thumb. Bucky was moving frantically now focused on his pleasure as well as yours. He wanted to feel your wall tighten against him so he doubled his efforts on your clitoris. Several more strong pushes inside you and you brought him down to muffle your scream in his neck. Bucky was so lost in the sensation of your body clutching on him that he almost forgot about himself. When he felt he was on the edge of bursting he quickly withdrew his member from you and started stroking it in rapid motion. He emptied himself on your stomach and after that, he collapsed on the bed beside you. Neither of you caring about the mess.

When your breaths calmed down you looked at Bucky who was lying face down on your pillow "So," you had to cough to wake up your vocal cords "So, does your day went as you planned it would?" Bucky looked at you with a total bliss written on his face

"Of course it did. You got your flowers and I got laid" you opened your mouth in disbelief. Scolding  you slapped him on the arm

"Bucky! You're a jerk!"

"I am" he chuckled "And you love me"

"Sadly I do" Bucky smiled and moved to hold you in his arms but the semen on your skin was cooling down and it started to prickle your skin "Bucky it's getting cold, just-just give me five minutes to wash it off"

"Just wipe it with my clothes and get back to bed" you reluctantly did what he told you to and laid on your side with your back to Bucky and he wrapped his arm around you and nuzzled his face into your neck. "I have to thank your brother for his advice"

You shoot in your bed "No you won't!"

"Why not?"

"Because he will know he had sex and he will never let me live after that" you couldn't imagine how hard it would be to look into your brother's eyes after that

"All right. I won't tell him but you have to convince me. A kiss will do" Bucky grinned at you mischievously and you gulped

"Why am I feeling like I'm about to make a  pact  with the Devil?"

Bucky shrugged "You never know. Maybe my intentions are not as bad as yours" he was looking at you with innocent eyes and you scoffed

"You are really a jerk"

"I love you too Y/N, now try to sleep. I'm exhausted" he moved pulled you to his chest and you nuzzled your face into his neck breathing in his scent. It was true Bucky sometimes acted like a jerk but he was your jerk and you knew that nothing even your family couldn't stand between you two. No matter if he was poorer or wealthier than you, no matter if the war will come or not, Bucky loved you and you loved him and that was the most important thing.

Tags: @thessaswea @stanskarsgard @adrememdium @chipilerendi @metalarmlover @benedrylcumbersnatch @bexboo616 @peaceinourtime82 @usernamesarelies @bulaklakas @myattemptatfanfictioning @british-men @lovely-geek @httpmcrvel @antichrist-langdon13 @rebelfleur22

[my-emotional-self]

Con-Flicted (Chris Evans x Reader)

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Angst, Drinking, Fluff

Summary: Going to the Seattle Ace Comic Con was like walking into a Marvel dream…..until some ungrateful people at the Panel got on your nerves.  

Word Count:  7k+

A/N: Chris Evans is at this con (let’s just pretend he didn’t back out) Also, I rearranged timing around a little bit (panel on Saturday before photo ops and autographs…that kind of thing)

Seattle, Washington. June 22nd.  Not only was it your first time in Washington, it was also your first Con you had ever been to.  It wasn’t the money that was an issue, it was the timing.  Each time Chris Evans was at a Con, there was always something in the way of you going; work, meetings, family.  But not this time.  Nope.  You made damn sure that you had an open schedule to be there; no matter how busy you were living your life in Los Angeles.  The only downside: all the VIP tickets were sold out before you got a chance to buy them.  

Walking through the doors of the venue Friday night was truly enchanting.  Today there wasn’t anything planned so you took your time to walk around and get a feel how everything went.  So many people were dressed up as their favorite characters, stopping you in your tracks.  Looking down at your outfit, you were wearing a pair of light washed jeans and a Marvel tank-top.  “Shit,” you whispered to yourself, realizing it would have been a lot of fun to dress up. Alas, you just didn’t have the time.

Vendors lined the wall selling everything from t-shirts, to buttons, to comic books and so much more. It was a dream.  As you walked around, you bought some t-shirts and Funko Pops to add to your growing collection at home.  

After a long day of walking around, it was up to your hotel room for you.  Taking a long hot shower, you dried yourself off and passed out on the bed; flying always made you tired.  

Bright and early the following morning you were up, hair done, makeup on and you headed down to the venue.  Luckily you were able to get a hotel room that was connected to the venue, making it that much more easily to go to and from.

As you made it to the venue, you immediately became overwhelmed.  Last night, while there were still plenty of people milling around, it was nothing compared to what you were looking at now.  Your heart began to beat faster as your eyes took in the crowd. Looking at your watch, you had about an hour to kill before the panel started.  Not wanting to move around the throng of people, your feet carried you swiftly to the auditorium and you found a seat right at the edge of the aisle where one of the microphones were placed.  

Your leg began to bounce up and down as you sat there anxiously awaiting the guys to come on stage. Behind you, girls began talking about Tom Holland and you had to hide your laugh from them.  They were going back and forth about what question they wanted to ask them and listing off all the names of people they wanted him to give a shout out to.  Shaking your head, you couldn’t believe that out of everything they could ask, they wanted to waste their time asking for shout outs to their friends.  It was completely ignorant and downright rude in your mind.  

Kevin Smith appeared on stage and the crowd began to cheer and clap; your cheering was a little more enthusiastic as theirs.  Maybe it was because you actually KNEW who Kevin Smith was!  

“Welcome of course to Ace Comic Con!  Is everyone having a good time?” Kevin asked the crowd and everyone cheered yet again. “The Ace crew has put together a fantastic lineup and today, we are going to talk to some bonafide Avengers ladies and gentlemen!”  The crowd went wild, including you.  Kevin went on to discuss how he has always been a big fan of not only Marvel, but DC as well and how lucky we are to be living in a time where they are taking those comics and turning them into magnificent movies for all of us to see. “We are going to talk to four people who have been a part of many of these movies.  First, we will start out with two of them because the other two are still taking pictures, but once they are done, they will come in and join us. So, without further ado, please welcome Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan!”

Everyone rose to their feet as the auditorium erupted into screams and applause.  Your heart was pounding in your chest as you saw Chris appear on stage.  A bright smile appeared on your lips at how absolutely gorgeous he looked.  He was wearing a pair of jeans, black tight t-shirt, and his ever present NASA ball cap.  His beard was trimmed to perfection and it took all your constraint to not run up there and run your nails through his beard.  

Ever since you first saw him play Captain America, you were hooked.  After that you watched all of his movies and realized just how terrific of an actor he really was.  Not only that, from what you had seen from his twitter and interviews, he was a great human being; standing up for what he believes in which was always a turn on for you.

Kevin sat down with Chris and Sebastian as the three of them talked on stage.  Soon enough people were lining up for questions as the guys on stage seemed to be having a great time.  Chris’ smile was contagious.  

You couldn’t help but watch Chris and the way he answered questions, or sat there and fidgeted on the couch next to Sebastian.  Knowing full well he had anxiety issues, your heart went out to him and this just proves how much he loves his fan to be here.

Without even introducing them, Tom and Anthony sneaked onto the stage and all the younger girls in the audience screamed so loud that you clenched your eyes shut tight from the sound; it was overpowering.  

“Better late than never,” Kevin joked making the four men on stage laugh and nod their heads. “Tom, are you having fun today?” It felt like five minutes of screaming before people quieted down enough for Tom to answer the question.  

“Yeah actually I’m having a blast.  It’s been a lot of fun!”

“And how about you Anthony?”

“Oh you know how it is,” he responded with a shrug of his shoulders and a smirk.  “These things are always fun for me to do because I get to pick on the rest of my cast members.”  His answer made you laugh like much of the rest of the audience.  

Kevin asked a few more questions to Tom and Anthony before he opened up the floor.  The questions went by with many of them seeming nervous to speak into a microphone and ask their questions; hell, you would be too which is why you didn’t want to ask anything.  The questions were simple, respectable….for the most part.  

“Take it away to the next person,” Kevin said and you looked to see a girl standing at the microphone.

“Umm, so first of all Tom, I was wondering if you could say ‘hi’ to my friend Mary, she’s a huge fan?”

Here we go you thought to yourself as you saw the girl holding her phone out and recording Tom.  

“Hi Mary!  How’re you doing?” Tom said with a smile from his seat on the stage.

“That’s probably going to make her, like, entire life,” the girl at the microphone said with a laugh. “Anyways, umm, so, I don’t really….well this is my first comicon,” she said with a nervous laugh.  “This is my first comicon and I just wanted to say that you guys are amazing actors and a huge inspiration and….just to point out to Anthony, Seb….Tom Holland, besides Chris, is the only here that actually HAS his own movie.”  Your jaw dropped to the floor at her saying that; your eyes wide as saucers.  It was such a disrespectful thing for her to say and you were flabbergasted that the crowd was actually CHEERING at her words!!!

Looking up at the four of them sitting on the couch, your heart dropped to your stomach.  Anthony was looking around the stage as both Chris and Sebastian tried to hide their embarrassment with laughs before their heads dipped way back.  From your view, you could see them shaking their heads back and forth.  

“I didn’t say it…I didn’t say it,” Tom said as his face was contorted with a mixture of a faked smile and embarrassment.  

“Things are getting hostile…AVENGE that comment man!” Kevin said.  

Sebastian grabbed his water bottle, Chris just sat there with his hands fidgeting in his lap, as Anthony began to speak.  “First of all….first of all, I’m pretty sure the movie was called ‘The Winter Solider’…..” the crowd cheered as you looked to Sebastian.  His face was hard, not even a hint of a smile as he nodded his head to his friend.  “I guess the two Academy Award nominated movies I did means nothing huh?”  

There were a few more ‘regular’ questions, people actually asking about the movies before another two girls stepped up to the microphone.  “Umm, yeah, I didn’t really have a question, but I just wanted to show this fan art my friend made of you Tom, and Tessa.  And I have a pitbull at home too so I just wanted to say I thought that was kind of cool and I was hoping you could give Tessa a pet for me?”

“I will, yes I will do that,” Tom replied with a grin.  

“Who’s Tessa?” Sebastian asked, confused as to who the girl was talking about.  

“His dog!!!  Oh my God educate yourself!” she spoke into the microphone with a scowl on her face as her friend laughed from behind her.  For the second time that day, your jaw dropped at the audacity these girls had to speak the way they were.  

Tom started laughing while Chris, Sebastian and Anthony had frowns on their faces, looking between the three of them.  

“You ah….you have a good time on the internet tonight,” Sebastian remarked with a shake of his head and you knew exactly what he meant by that.  The actual fans of the Marvel fandom would be making her into a meme and it would be ALL over the internet.  You grinned knowing that it wouldn’t be fun for her.  

“Time out time out…how do YOU know about Tessa?” Mackie asked.  

“He posts about her all the time.”

“Oh so he posts pictures of him and his dog?  Just hanging around at home?”

“Do you not follow Tom on Instagram?” she asked with her palms faced upwards.  

“Baby I’m an ADULT.  I follow no man, just so you know.”  You laughed so hard as Chris and Sebastian clapped, nodding their heads at his comeback.  Anthony always had the best comebacks.  

Next, her friend stepped up to the microphone.  “Ok, so before I say anything, I promised my friend Iris that I….”

Anthony quickly cut her off. “Ya’ll got a lot of friends. Where are your friends at?”

“I’m sorry…’friends’ maybe a term you don’t know…..” she trailed off and the crowd just gasped in shock at what she said.  Everyone on stage, all four of them were just as shocked as you.  

“What???” both Chris and Sebastian spoke into their mics as they turned to Mackie.  

“Oooohhh  ooohhhh oooohhh…I like that…I like that.  I don’t know the term ‘friends’, I know the term ‘family’.  When stuff gets tight, let me see where your friend at.”  

By now you had completely decided to stop listening to these young girls; not wanting to give them the time of day.  But you did faintly remember one of the girls saying something about a question for Tom and she didn’t really care about the others guys up there.  As you sat in your chair, your leg bouncing erratically up and down your eyes glanced towards the four of them on the stage.  They were embarrassed and extremely uncomfortable and now you felt the heat rushing up your neck and to your cheeks feeling utterly embarrassed FOR them, and for the rest of the Marvel Fandom.  

Once the girls were done, Kevin tried to end it but one more girl begged to ask her question.  All you ended up hearing from her was something along the lines of “I’ve been on my feet and in heels all day.”  It was enough to make you snap as you stood from your chair and went to the vacant microphone.  

Your heart was hammering in your chest but by now, you were running on peer adrenaline.  As the girl walked away from the microphone, you spoke up.

“Excuse me, Mr. Smith,” your nerves getting the better of you as your voice came out strained. Kevin looked at you, his brows raised. “I don’t have a question, I just wanted to make a real quick comment.”

“Well, I see there is someone out there who has manners.  What’s your name?”

“My name is Y/N.”

“Well Y/N, because you asked so respectfully, I’m going to let you make your comment.”

The heat was back to your face again as you blushed and you cleared your throat.  “I just want to start out by saying that every single one of you up there, are absolutely amazing.  Chris, Sebastian, Tom, Anthony, and you too Kevin.  You are all such talented actors and I want to say thank you for the movies you have given us.”  The crowd rejoiced and you felt encouraged to continue.  “I also want to apologize, on behalf of the Marvel fandom for today.  What some of these ‘fans’,” you stated with actual air quotes, “said to you guys up there, was disrespectful, and completely uncalled for.”  Turning sideways you glanced around the auditorium. “If anyone has a question for just one of the actors up there, you don’t have to actually go and say ‘you don’t care about the rest of them’.  The crowd, yet again, applauded you.  

You turned back around to face the stage and your eyes met Chris’.  He was staring right at you, staring right through to your soul and it took your breath away.  “Umm…,” you lost your train of thought for a minute.  “I know this isn’t part of your contract, to come to these cons and see your fans.  It is something you do, out of your own free will, and out of your own time.  There is no way that you should be treated the way you were today.  On behalf of the Marvel Fandom, I want to thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here with us today.”

Chris, Sebastian, Tom, Anthony and even Kevin all stood up from their spots on stage and clapped for you. You noticed Chris quickly whisper something to each of his cast mates and they all nodded their heads.

As Kevin ended the panel you saw Chris whispering to what looked like a security guard; his head nodding in your direction.  Taking a deep gulp, you instantly thought you had maybe done something to upset them and were in trouble.  Sitting back down in your chair, you reached under and gathered your belongings before standing up, only to come face to face with the security guard that Chris was speaking with.  

“Are you Y/N?” the very tall and bulky looking man asked.  Swallowing the lump in your throat, you could only nod your head in response.  “Come with me.”

Fuck you thought to yourself as you followed him down the steps and trying to make your way through the crowd as everyone was leaving the auditorium.  You followed the man until you came up to the stage as he motioned for you to continue. Slowly you crept up the stairs as he ushered you behind the curtains.  

Your heart began to pound as you saw Sebastian, Anthony, and Tom standing next to a refreshment table, laughing, while Chris stood off to the side as he spoke on his phone.  

“Hey!  There she is!” Anthony’s voice boomed as he made his way towards you, arms out for a hug.  You couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips as you hugged him back.  And damn was he a good hugger.  “You know, you were our hero out there,” he said with a bright smile just as Chris got off the phone and walked over to you.  “Standing up for us an all.  I have to say.  It was ama-AZING!!”  Everyone laughed, including yourself as you felt the heat of your blush invade your neck and cheeks.  

“It was the least I could do after how some of those people were treating you guys.  I mean,” you looked down at your feet, feeling nervous from their gazes at you, “you guys put so much effort and passion into these movies for fans…it’s not fair for them to treat you like garbage when you take time out of your own life to do these kinds of things.”

All four of them murmured their agreements as Chris’ eyes never left yours.  It truly felt like he was looking deep into your soul and your heart skipped a beat.  Biting your lip, you turned you gaze down at your feet again.  

“Which is why we want to thank you.  How about you come up to my hotel room tonight.  We were all going to order some pizza and have some drinks.  We were hoping you would join us,” Chris spoke with a delighted smile.  

Your brain had to do a double take, as his words repeated in your head.  “Are-are you sure?” you asked with hesitation.  

“Of course we’re sure. It’s the least WE could do to thank you for what you did out there,” Sebastian chimed in.  At that moment, you weren’t sure if you had died and gone to heaven; or perhaps hit your head at some point and were dreaming.  

“Yes.  I’d love to.”

~~~

Since you didn’t have any autograph or photo sessions today, only tomorrow, you made your way back to your hotel room.  It turns out, the guys were all staying in the same hotel as you and you were to meet them at Chris’ room around 7 tonight.  

Looking at the clock, it was only 2 in the afternoon, but with everything that happened earlier, it felt much later than that.  Setting your alarm, you decided to take a little nap so you could be ready to hang with the guys tonight.

After waking from your nap, you lay there looking at the blank white ceiling of your hotel room.   Taking another quick shower, you re-did your makeup; making sure to keep it very simple. Taking one last look in the mirror, you gave yourself an encouraging nod before grabbing your purse and heading to Chris’ room, which just so happened to be on the same floor as yours; just on the opposite end of the hotel.  

Gathering a deep breath, you let it out before knocking on the door.  You could hear laughing and ruckus going on inside as the door opened to reveal a smiling Tom.  “Hey Y/N! You made it!” he beamed while opening the door for you to step inside.  

Looking around, you noticed it was a rather large suite.  It was a complete open floorplan with a large living room and kitchen; a set of double doors revealing the bedroom.  The furniture was very modern with sharp edges and neutral tones; the kitchen had dark wood with black granite.  

“Wow,” you said breathlessly as you looked around, realizing it was bigger than even your apartment back home.  Most hotels you had ever been in were very bland and boring; maybe you just needed to up your game and start staying in suites from now on.    

“There’s our girl,” you heard Chris say and the way he said it made go weak in the knees; his voice alone sending chills to your lady bits and you had to stifle a moan.  He had two beers, one in each hand as he came up to give you a hug.  And I thought Mackie was a great hugger you thought to yourself as Chris’ large arms wrapped securely around you.  

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you giggled as he let you go.  Chris handed you a beer and placed a hand on your lower back, leading you into the living room.  

~~~

It wasn’t long before everyone was stuffed with pizza and booze; the suite echoing with laughter as you all were laid back on the couches and talking.  You were feeling relaxed and buzzed as you sipped on some sort of drink that Mackie had made for everyone.  The four of them welcomed you into their little group and you felt right at home. Chris also couldn’t keep his eyes off of you; especially your lips.  You caught him on more than one occasion watching your lips as you talked.

Chris wasn’t just watching you; he was being flirty with you also.  Each time the two of you were off the couch, either walking to and from the kitchen, or just standing around, he would always pass by you very closely. Many times he would even whisper in your ear, simple things such as “hey”, or “you look beautiful.”  Each time it made your breath hitch and you skin break out in goosebumps.  But your favorite part was when he would touch you with his hand to your lower back when he passed by.  This man was slowly torturing you in the most extravagant of ways.    

“Time for some fun! We are going to play Never Have I Ever! Everyone know the rules?” Tom said as he held up his drink.  It was a favorite past time of yours that you and your friends used to play in the summer at bonfires back in high school.  Everyone else nodded as Tom stood up.  “Alright. Sebastian, you start!”

Tom sat down as Sebastian stood up.  “Let’s see…..never have I ever…..had sex in a public place.”

“Really?  Never?” Chris asked as he shook his head laughing, taking a sip of his drink.  You bashfully grabbed your drink off the table and also took a sip.  

“Ooohh, look at our girl over here,” Mackie teased and you shrugged your shoulders; a playful grin on your face.    

“Alright I’ll go,” Tom spoke, standing up.  “Never have I ever hooked up with a cast member…or maybe in this case,” he said pointing to you, “a co-worker.”  Wheew, you were safe from that one; but Chris and Sebastian weren’t as they both took a swig of their drinks.  “Your turn Y/N.”

Standing up, you bite your lip trying to think of something that would perhaps get all of them to take a drink.  With a grin, you looked Chris dead in the eyes and spoke.  “Never have I ever hooked up with someone famous.”

“Oh come on!” a chorus of groans came about the room as you giggled.  

“Such a cheat,” Mackie said shaking his head as all four of the guys took a sip of their drinks. Looking around the room, you couldn’t help but feel his eyes burning into you.  With a small grin, your gaze landed on Chris and sure enough, he was staring right at you; his own mischievous smirk on his perfectly bearded face.  The way he was looking at you made you wet in your panties.  Biting your lower lip, you had to squeeze your legs together to stop the ache.  

Clearing his throat, Chris stood up.  “My turn.” You sucked in a deep breath as his eyes never wavered from your sitting form.  “Never have I ever slept with someone I met at a con.”  Instantly your cheeks became enflamed from the heat of the blush that overtook your body; and it clearly wasn’t from the drinking.  

“Ooohh,” came from the mouths of the three other guys in the room as they watched Chris stare you down.

“Dude, the point is to get other people to drink as much as possible.  Nobody here has hooked up with someone from a con,” Anthony chimed in with his signature smirk and chuckle.  

You stared intently at Chris, as he did the same; his eyes saying it all; not yet.  

A tremble went through your body as Chris gave you a devilish wink. 

“Damn it’s getting late. I’m going to head back to my room,” Anthony spoke up, breaking the staring contest between you and Chris.  

“Dude, it’s like, 10:30,” Tom responded giving him a goofy look.  

“Yeah and I’m old.  I’ll see you three in the morning.”  Anthony got off the couch and made his way to you, giving you a hug.  “And you all will go to bed soon enough too if you know what’s good for you!”

“Yes dad,” Tom remarked getting from the couch as well.  He too came over to give you a hug as you noticed Chris whisper something into Sebastian’s ear.  Sebastian nodded his head, giving you a grin as he came over to give you a hug also.  

“I suppose, it is time to go.”  Getting up off the couch, you began to retrieve your purse, thinking you should be heading out with the rest of them, but that didn’t seem like the case.  

Chris came up behind you and whispered into your ear, “stay for a while longer.”  A quiver went down your spine as you watched Chris head towards the door, walking his guests out.  Your mouth suddenly went dry and you nearly fell back onto the couch and hastily grabbed your drink; down the rest of it in three big gulps.   You are single, and so is Chris .  Have fun tonight your mind reminded you.  

Hearing the door close, you turned to see Chris heading towards the kitchen.  “Want another drink?”

“Umm, yeah, that’d be great.”

Sitting down next to you, he handed you a beer and you greedily began drinking it.  You weren’t sure what his intentions were for tonight, but at this point, you didn’t care one big.  He was a drop dead gorgeous man, and you were single.  You were allowed to have fun, right?

He sat rather close to you and the heat radiating off of him was searing.  The more you drank, the more brave you became and before you knew it, the words tumbled from your mouth.  “You’ve been watching me a lot tonight.”

Chris’ chest rumbled with a deep chuckle.  “How could I not?  You have an amazing personality and it’s quite a turn on.  I couldn’t help myself.”  His arm came to rest behind the couch, right behind your head as he placed his hand on your shoulder.  “I’m serious Y/N.  I don’t do this kind of thing.  I don’t just meet a girl and then hook up with her.”  So that is his intention tonight you thought to yourself.  “But there is something different about you.  You’re honest and caring.  Funny as fuck and not to mention fahking beautiful.”  There it was; his Boston accent you had so been hoping to hear.  “I don’t do things spur of the moment.”

You found yourself leaning into him, just as he was doing to you.  His words hitting close to home and it made you feel better knowing he didn’t just want to screw you and leave you.  The chemistry had been there, all night, that much was true.  As you got close to him, it felt as if a wave of electricity was bouncing off the two of you.  

“Do you feel that?” you asked, fanning his face with your breath.

“That connection?” he replied as his eyes glanced down to your lips.  “Oh yeah I feel that.”  He closed the distance and his lips finally connected with yours.  It was the greatest feeling in the world; but all too soon, he pulled away.  “Was that ok?”

Your heart was racing in your chest as you nodded your head.  “More than ok.”  You smiled before kissing him this time, putting all your sexual frustration into the kiss.  Reaching your hand up, you cupped the back of his head as your fingers threaded through his thick locks, earning a low growl from Chris.  The noise turned you on to no end as you moved your leg to straddle his waist.

Your lips continued to brush together, slowly at first.  Chris was a damn fine kisser and you found you could stay in this position for the rest of your life and be happy, just kissing him like this.    

His hands moved to grip your hips as the kiss deepened; his tongue swiping at your lower lip, begging for entrance.  You gladly opened your mouth, letting his tongue trace yours as a soft moan escaped the back of your throat.  Chris gripped your hips at the noise and you involuntarily ground your hips down.  

“Fuck Y/N,” Chris rasped as he pulled away from your lips.  He looked longingly into your eyes; his hips jutting up and you could very clearly feel how hard he was already.  His hands trailed from your hips and under your shirt; stalling at the clasp of your bra.  “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Your heart swelled knowing that he was thinking more intently about this situation than just a quick fuck and you gripped his hair at the nape of his neck.  “Don’t even think about stopping,” you cooed.  

With a seductive grin on his part, he unclasped your bra as his lips began giving slow, succulent open mouth kisses on your neck.  His kisses left you feeling dizzy in the best kind of way as your hands went to the hem of his white t-shirt, quickly lifting it over his head.  “Fuck,” you breathed out as you saw him bare chested; the tattoo on his collar bone just begging to be kissed.  Leaning down, you did just that as you let your tongue swipe across the beautiful words.  

It was his turn to rid you of your shirt as your arms raised.  He pulled off your shirt and bra with haste; staring right back at your bare chest.  “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured before his lips encircled your right nipple, making you throw your head back in pure delight.  You had never felt this kind of fire burning in your body and you couldn’t wait to experience more with Chris.  He gave your left nipple the same amount of affection before he began nibbling on your collarbone.  His large hands cupped your breasts and squeezed lightly, just as his tongue found a sweet spot on your neck.  A guttural moan left your lips and you felt his cock twitch beneath you.    

You began to gyrate your hips, needing to release some sort of tension on your core and it only spurred Chris on more as he lightly began to bite and nibble on your neck.  “Chris,” his name was a breathy moan as it left your lips.  

He didn’t need to hear anymore as he gripped your hips tightly and rolled you onto your back on the couch.  Chris made quick work of removing your pants and panties before positioning you into a seated position on the couch.  His alluring grin was back as his hands grasped your ankles and pulled you down a bit so your ass was close to hanging off the couch.  

Chris sunk to his knees in front of you and it felt like your brain began to short-circuit.  Is this really happening you thought as Chris pried your legs wide open for him. “Fahking perfect,” he breathed and his hot breath made you tremble from deep inside.  “You still want to do this?”

“Yes, yes Chris please,” you begged as your chest heaved with anticipation.  

His eyes roamed over your heaving chest before landing right on your open pussy; and fuck were you wet for him.  He began peppering the inside of your thighs with soft kisses; his beard tickling you as you tried to hold still.  Taking his fingers, he spread you gently and began to lightly blow making you wiggle with pleasure.  He damn well knew he was teasing you and he was getting a kick out of it.  Thankfully he wasn’t that cruel as his lips wrapped around your aching clit, making you scream out his name.  

Your head fell back and Chris moaned as he licked a strip right up your center and to your clit. Your hand grasped his hair as you wiggled your hips.  From all the sexual tension you’ve had tonight, you knew you wouldn’t be lasting long; especially with his expert mouth.  Fuck could this mad use his mouth.

As his mouth began to suckle your nub, he inserted two fingers into your core and you were a goner. Your orgasm washed over you in waves of pleasure; more than you had ever felt before.  You cried out his name as your body convulsed; Chris’ fingers still inside of you but they stilled their movements.  

When your high finally ended, you opened your eyes to see Chris kneeling before you; a beaming smile on his face.  “You are even more gorgeous when you come, if that’s even possible.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips as you leaned forward to kiss him; tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands trailed down his chest until you reached his sweatpants; your hand disappearing inside the waistband. A low growl came from Chris as your hand clasped his large and endowed cock.  “Oh that feels good,” Chris grunted as his head slumped onto your shoulder. Your thumb circled his tip, wiping his pre-cum all around him as you began to pump him slowly.  Hell, you were beginning to get off again just hearing the noises he was making.  “Wait wait wait.  Stop Y/N.”

You frowned at him, wondering if you were doing something wrong.  But he quickly kissed your worries away with the most passionate and heated kiss you ever felt someone give you.  “I just don’t want to come too fast,” he confessed with a smile as he pulled away.  “You’re turning me on like crazy.”

You chuckled as he stood up from his spot, shredding his sweatpants and boxers, leaving him completely bare just like you.  With your beating heart and even more aching pussy, you stood up from your spot on the couch and switched positions with Chris so he was now sitting down.  As you began to straddle him, he stopped you a second time.  “What about a condom?”

He truly was not only a gentleman, but the perfect man as you smiled back at him.  It amazed you that he was so caring and concerned. Most men wouldn’t care; they just wanted a quick fuck and then be done.  But not Chris.  “I’m clean and on birth control.”

Chris nodded as his hands raked over your naked form in front of him; eyeing you with greed.  “I trust you.”  His words made your heart skip a beat as you slowly lowered yourself onto his thick length.  The two of you groaned in pleasure at once.  You had never felt so full before.  Chris’ hands explored your body as your forehead rested on his; your breathing deep as you became stretched with his member.  “Are you ok?” he inquired.  Opening your eyes, you saw he was staring at you with consideration.  

A small smirk graced your lips as you nodded your head.  “I’ve uh…I’ve just never been with someone so big before,” you lightly giggled.  “It’s just going to take a moment to adjust.” Chris’ eyes softened as his right hand was placed at your neck, pulling you forward so he could kiss you.  His kiss was tender and gentle, making you that much more relaxed and easier to adjust to him.  

“I’m kind of glad you needed a few minutes to adjust,” Chris chuckled when the kiss ended.  Cocking your head to the side, your brows furrowed at his comment.  “Fahk Y/N, your pussy is so tight and warm.  If you would have begun to ride me right away, I would have busted instantly.”

All the tension released from your body once you found out just how turned on Chris was.  “Well, in that case.  Are you ready or do you need another minute?” you teased playfully with a wink.  

With his own grin, he placed his hands at your hips and lifted you up before easing you back down. No words were needed for you to realize he was ready.  As you placed your hands on his shoulders, you began to ride him.  Your breasts bounced as your thigh muscles were giving you one hell of a workout; but it was all worth it.  Opening your eyes, you saw Chris’ gaze go from your bouncing breasts and down to where you two were connected; watching his own cock disappear into your pussy.

Chris made a dangerously seductive growl before placing his hands at your ass, giving a tight squeeze. “YES!” you cried out, loving the way he was touching your scorching body.    

Without so much as a notice, Chris gripped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, causing you to squeal as he began walking into the bedroom; the two of you still connected in the most intimate of ways.  

Chris placed you on the large bed with ease.  His hips snapped forward as he began to pound into you with a rapid pace.  Your arms went up to the headboard to protect your head from hitting it as Chris began to pound you into the mattress.  “Don’t fucking stop!” you begged as you felt the familiar ripple begin to tighten in your belly.  For, what it seems like the first time in your life, someone actually listened to you during sex and Chris’ hips never faltered.  In fact, he sped up if that was even at all possible.  Your toes began to curl and your muscles tightened.   “Fuck fuck yesyesyes CHRIS!” you screamed as your second orgasm of the night washed through you.  

“Right there baby…..FUCK,” Chris bellowed as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling inside you; his cum filling the inside of your pussy as his cock twitched inside of you.

~~~

You startled awake the next morning as an alarm blared rather early.  Groaning in frustration, you opened your eyes and realized you were cuddled in a cocoon in Chris’ arms; a smile gracing your lips as last night’s memories repeated in your head.

“Mmmmm, sorry about that,” Chris spoke as he turned his alarm off and kissed the back of your neck before getting out of bed.  

“What time is it?” you asked as you got into a sitting position.

“Almost nine.  I have photo ops starting at 10.”  He came around the bed and gave you a tender kiss before heading into the bathroom.  You heard the shower turn on as pushed the covers off your naked body, shivering at the loss of comfort.  

Making your way into the living room you began to dress yourself, a frown emanating on your lips. Although you had an amazing night last night, you were sad to see it end.  Chris was incredible; not just in bed but also in tune with your feelings, making you feel comfortable.  

Just as you reached for your purse, Chris emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He walked over to you, taking you into his arms.  “I had a great time last night.”

“Me too,” you replied hugging him back.  He smelled amazing and you didn’t want to let him go.  

“I meant what I said last night Y/N.  I don’t do these kinds of things without thinking them through.  If you hadn’t live in Los Angeles, I don’t know if I could have gone through what we did last night.  But since we live in the same city, I was kind of hoping things wouldn’t have to end tonight.”

Yep, you’re dead.  You’re dead and in heaven was all you could think as you stared into his baby blue eyes.  “Are you being serious right now?”

He hugged you tighter as you felt his chest rumble with laughter.  “Dead serious.”  He pulled away and gave you a chaste kiss to your lips.  “I want to take you on a real date next week.  Can I do that?”

You nodded your head quickly before the two of you exchanged numbers.  “I’ll see you soon,” he added before giving your butt a smack.  

As you left his room, you couldn’t help but grin as you headed back to your room.  Sooner than you think you thought to yourself.  

~~~~

Not having VIP tickets was a bummer, but standing in line for your photo op only let you sit and memorize everything that happened the night before with Chris.  Before you knew it, you were next in line.  

Opening the curtain, there you saw Sebastian, Anthony, Tom and Chris as they posed with a fan.  When Anthony saw you, his smile brightened.  “There’s our girl!”

You quickly got in the middle of them, with Chris to your right.  Taking a quick glance in his direction, you winked at him before smiling at the photographer.  It may have looked like Chris’ arm was around you in the photo; but lo and behold, his hand was placed firmly on your ass and you couldn’t wait to get back home for your first official date with Chris.  

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[wayward-mikaelson]

How To Save A Life

Word Count: 3392

Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Reader, Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

About: Steve is still reeling from what happened

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Death, Language, Blood, Angst, mentions of sexual activities, and a very sad and depressed Steve Rogers

A/N: So this little drabble was inspired by TikTok creator theobsessedmarvelfan. She has a little series going on about how the Avengers would react to you dying and the one she did of Steve Rogers was just beyond amazing and I needed to write down what I had in my head for it. I titled the story after the song the TikTok creator used on their video. I hope you like it and I hope that the TikTok creator sees this and thinks it’s good as well. So I can’t take all the credit for it.

A/N #2: Wow! I am just super proud of this. I got so emotional writing this and may have shed a few tears. I really hope you like this guys.

*This piece of work is written for an audience that is 18 and up. If you aren’t 18 and up please keep scrolling and come back when you’re 18.

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"Be careful up there," Steve had said to you. He had grabbed your upper arm and pulled you in towards his chest. His free hand cradled the back of your neck and looked deep into your Y/E/C eyes. Drinking in all the love and passion he saw in them at that moment. Finally, he dipped down and pressed his lips firmly to yours. Earning himself a small moan from you against his lips.

"You're cute when you worry about me," you pulled away and stared into Steve's eyes. Worry isn't his only guest, fear was there too. "Its just a quick walk around and making sure everything is all good." Steve only sighed and let go of your arm. "I'll be fine, babe. Don't forget we have those dinner reservations tonight."

Steve watched as you walked away from him. How could he forget dinner tonight? Steve thought to himself as he walked away. He had thought about the black laced box sitting in his night stand at the compound. In it sat the simple diamond ring he had planned on presenting to you that very evening.

***

"I'll be fine, babe."

Those words echoed in Steve's head as if on repeat as he punched his way through his fourth punching bag. Steve wanted to forget everything about that day. He wanted to bury the aching pain that was coursing through his entire being. He wanted to bury it deep down with each punch he threw at the bag in front of him. He just wanted to feel numb to it all. But he just couldn't. It was his reminder that you had been real. You flipped his whole world around with a simple, easy "hello" and with a breathtakingly, painful "goodbye."

Steve took a step away from the punching bag, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. He needed to think of something else. He needed to keep his mind from steering towards that day. He needed to think of something happy. Something that can help him through the pain. With a small but pained smile on his face, Steve thought about yours and his first kiss some years ago.

It had been really late at night and the briefing had run long. Steve couldn't keep his eyes off you the whole time Tony or Bruce talked. You had been oblivious to the super soldier staring at you as your eyes had either been focused on the notepad in front of you or who ever was talking. When the briefing was finally over, Steve noticed you walk outside to the court yard and followed you. Being the gentleman that he was, he asked to sit next to you. Steve saw the way your face turned pink as you said yes. The two of you talked for a few more hours before having to call it a night. Steve had offered to walk you back to your room and you said yes. But the two of you got lost looking into each others eyes, that Steve couldn't hold it together. He bent down and kissed your soft lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Welcoming whatever came next.

***

"How's it looking up there?" Steve asked you through the mic on his wrist. He, Natasha and Bucky just cleared their end and exited the building. Steve had barely heard from you the whole time and his heart had been racing like a rocket. He needed to check in.

"We're all clear up here," your voice coming through his ear piece made him smile. "We are just passing through the fourth floor. Shouldn't be too much longer, Captain."  Steve could hear and see the smirk on your face as your called him Captain. You knew calling him Captain did things to him.

"Move faster, Agent Y/L/N," He said into the mic, smiling and turning around. It was in that moment that Steve remembered everyones mics and ear pieces were all on the same channel. Natasha was smirking and raising one her eyebrows. Steve could already hear the teasing coming from her. Steve glanced over at his best friend who was pretending to take an interest in the metal railing next to him. He too could see the impending teasing coming from him as well. It was no secret that you and Steve Roger were dating and very, highly intimate with each other. To the point that it comes out during missions.

Before Steve could say anything about what had just happened, the building exploded behind him. Steve spun around to see the glass and debris from the fourth floor and up fall around him. Every part of his body went stone cold and his heart stopped. His only thought in that moment was you.

"Y/N?!" Steve called your name into the mic. His heart had been pounding now. "Y/N, Sweetheart? Can hear me? Are you okay?" Panic rose within him with each word he said.

After a couple minutes there was static. "Steve..." your voice, no your pained groan, was barely heard before static took over again.

***

Steve stopped punching the bag and shook his head, taking a deep breath. He felt the onslaught of tears threatening to escape. Steve started to punch the bag again but this time, with more force. Causing the chain above it to shake almost violently. With each punch and each grunt, Steve fought the tears back. He tried really hard to push down the rest of that painful day.

"Happy thoughts," Steve grunted to himself. "Happy memories."

Steve found himself thinking about how your bare skin felt against his when the two of you would make love late into the night. He thought about how you would sigh deeply when he would kiss the back or side of your neck. When he would kiss down your body, he would always glance up and see you staring down at him. A small moan would always escape your lips and you would always drop your head back into the pillows.

Steve would kiss all the way down to your inner thigh, making sure not to miss your extremely sensitive clit. He would always plant a small and gentle kiss there. Then he would take the tip of his nose and slowly trail it from the inner thigh to your clit, where he would gently wiggle it, making your squirm and whimper and claw at the sheets around you. Which was his absolute favorite response from you. From there he would trail his nose up your body and to the base of your chin. Steve would then give you a gentle kiss on the lips before pushing up on his arms to stare into your beautiful Y/E/C eyes.

***

Steve ran in to the almost collapsing building. Ignoring his request to stay back and make sure civilians made it out okay, Bucky went in after his best friend. The two weaved through the panic crowd, ushering those who grabbed hold of them towards the exit.

"I thought I told you to stay back," Steve turned to Bucky in the stairwell.

"I'm not going to let you do something so fucking stupid," Bucky countered as he followed Steve up the stairs.

"Saving the love of my life isn't stupid," Steve said cooly. Gosh, why couldn't Bucky just listen for once today.

"No," Bucky grabbed Steve's arm and spun him around. The fear and worry was written all over his face. "But running into a collapsing building is."

The two looked at each other for a few seconds. "Y/N said they were passing through the fourth floor." Steve pulled his arm back and the continued up the stairs until they reached the fourth floor.

To Steve's horror, everything was blown to bits. Fire raged all around them. Wires and cables dangled dangerously close to the ground. The ventilation system from the ceiling was close to falling. This had to be the heart of  the explosion.

"You take that side and I'll take this side."

Steve and Bucky went to work flipping through pieces of falling debris and under it with no luck at all. Steve began to panic with each passing minute he couldn't find you. He would call out to you and would get nothing in return.

"Guys," Natasha's voice sounded in their ear pieces. "This building is about to go down any minute."

"We're not leaving until we find Y/N," Bucky said tossing back a chunk of ceiling.

"Buck," Steve stopped what he was doing. "You go on out, I'll stay."

"The fuck I'm not," Bucky's voice was firm. "I'm not going to leave your ass in here."

Steve closed his eyes. "Buck," he said slowly opening his eyes. They were beginning to sting with the smoke and ash around him. "I'm not going to-" That when something under a table and slab of ceiling caught his eye. A pair of legs. And by the combat boots, he knew it was you. "Bucky! Get over here. I found her," He yelled.

Together, Steve and Bucky moved the slab and table. Steve just about lost his balance when he saw your body laying there. Motionless. Steve knelt down and noticed a huge gash on your forehead. The blood looked like it had slowed down. Steve placed his ear to your chest and heard a faint thumping of your heart and a small raise of your chest. Steve sighed with a slight smile on his face.

"It's okay Sweetheart, I got you now," Steve gathered you into his arms and painful scream left your lips. Leaving Steve wide eyed and he knew right then and there, that there was more to your injuries.

That's when the next and final explosion hit. Bucky urgently ushered Steve, who was carrying you, into the stairwell before the rest of the that floor was gone.

***

Steve's punches got more forceful as he remembered that scream. The tears that Steve had fought so hard to hold back, were starting to roll down his face. That scream echoed through his head at night. Keeping him up and leaving him restless the next morning. No matter what Steve did to bury that scream, he would always hear it. And it always killed him.

"Shouldn't have let her go," Steve said through the tears and in between the forceful punches. The chain above above started to give way. "Should have told her stay behind."

Steve thought about the night of Tony's dinner party. The fifth dinner party that month. How many dinner parties can one man have? Steve remembered the two of you getting ready and arguing about the mission. Steve didn't want you to go and didn't have a good enough reason as to why. You pointed it out too and that caused Steve to raise the white flag of surrender. Not to mention you were wearing the dress he absolutely loved on you. The dress that would drive him crazy until he had his way with you. The dress that still sits in his closet where he would touch it and smell it each night. Just to catch that faint smell of the perfume you used that night.

Steve remembered being at the dinner party, secretly hoping you'd enjoy yourself just a little too much. He hoped that when you woke up that morning, you would be too hungover and sick to do that mission. How could Steve explain the sickening pit in his stomach about you and that mission? How could he explain that he knew something was going to happen? He could only hope at this point. You did enjoy yourself that night. You even convinced Steve to wonder off from the dinner party for an intimate quickie. Steve didn't mind, he hoped maybe he could get you exhausted enough to sleep in.

But you woke up that morning feeling amazing. Steve tried, again, to talk you out of it but, you got upset and walked away from him. You had barely said a word to him until he told you to be careful that day.

"I'll be fine, babe," those words echoed again through his head.

"But you weren't," Steve hit the bag harder. "And you're not here. I should have just dragged you off the helicopter. Only then you would still be here."

***

Steve paced around the hospital waiting room. It felt like forever since they arrived with you and they immediately rushed you off to surgery. Natasha tried to get Steve to sit but he kept pushing her arm away from him.

"Steve," her calm voice would try and make him focus. "You need to sit down and relax."

"You know what," Steve turned on her, his tone sharp. "Until we know how she is, I won't sit down and relax." Natasha stopped trying after that and got coffee for everyone every hour or so. Steve turned it down each time she offered.

Bucky on the other hand just stared at his best friend. Bucky knew from the moment Steve picked you up and you screamed, your internal organs were massively messed up. It would take a miracle for you to make it off that table alive. But he couldn't tell that to Steve. Steve would probably throw him out of the hospital.

After what seemed like forever, a doctor came out looking for Steve. The doctor took Steve by the shoulders and walked him off somewhere where the team couldn't hear. Natasha and Bucky gave each other horrified looks. They knew what was about to go down.

"Son," the older doctor in a soft and calm ton. "I'm sorry to say this, but she didn't make it."

Steve's whole entire being froze. It felt like he started to sway from side to side so Steve grabbed the wall for support. "What?" He asked, it felt like his voice had been caught in his throat. "She was just breathing a few hours ago. Her heart was beating."

The doctor took a deep breath. "The damage to her insides was worse than we thought. Her lungs were punctured by broken ribs. There was massive internal bleeding that no one could stop or find where it was coming from. Then there was her heart-"

"What about her heart?!" Steve's voice rose and the next thing he felt was Natasha's hand on his arm.

The doctor looked towards Natasha who nodded her head for him to go on. "Her heart just stopped during surgery. We tried for an hour to bring her back. There was nothing else we could do. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Natasha sent the doctor on his way. When she looked back at Steve, she saw that his entire world falling apart in his eyes.  But it wasn't compared to what he was feeling on the inside.  

Steve felt like he had been hit by a car. The words the doctor said echoed louder and over Natasha's words. What was she trying to say? Steve couldn’t tell or even focus on what she was saying. His body had felt like it had been plunged into arctic waters. Steve slowly and shakily turned to face the wall, pressing his hands on it for even more support.

Tears rolled down Steve's face as he tried to get his breathing together. He stared at the wall for what seemed like forever until his arms gave out and he fell against the wall and slide down to his knees. Natasha was right by his side, taking him into her arms letting him be vulnerable.

"She's gone Nat," Steve whispered. "Y/N is gone."

"I know, Steve, I know."

***

Steve had stopped punching the bag and just stared at the bag in front of him. The tears had stopped and left his face emotionless. He knew he needed to stop thinking and replaying that day over and over in his head. He knew he needed to move on from you. But he just couldn't do it. No matter how hard he tried. The pain and the grief of your death would just consume him until he felt numb.

Just as he felt now.

***

Steve was numb. It took Natasha everything she had to drag him out of the compound and to your funeral. Steve didn't want to go. He didn't want to see your lifeless body laying there in a casket. But Natasha forced him to.

"As much as it hurts," she said parking the car at the church. "This will help you move on or heal or something."

Steve just stared at the people walking into the church. He would soon have to face this now or never. "Let's just get this over with."

Steve sat in the pew and listened to the preacher talk about your life and the service to your country and people. Steve smiled because he knew how proud you were of serving but more proud to serve the world. But he never took his eyes off your motionless body except for one time.

Steve glanced up to see your mother staring at him and that brought back the memory of him having to go her door and telling her that you weren't coming home. Losing you was the hardest thing he ever experienced but seeing your mother break down and scream insults at him, killed him even more. It ended with your mother slapping him and slamming the door on his face. Steve closed his eyes and fought back more tears.

"You should have protected her better," your mother had said. And Steve couldn't agree more. He should have but he couldn't. It was out of his control.

When the time came to put you into the ground, it felt like Steve was losing you all over again. Steve watched as family, friends, and team members put flowers or small tokens on top of your casket. Steve held a bouquet of your favorite flowers on his lap and in his pocket, was the laced box with the engagement ring.  

"I can take those up for you," Bucky leaned forward from his seat behind Steve.

Steve looked around and saw a few people looking at him. "No, I got this. Thanks buddy." With that, Steve stood up and made his way towards your casket. Each step he took, tore at his heart. Each step he took, took his breath away. Each step he took, took him closer to that painful, final goodbye.

Steve laid the flowers down and reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box. He opened and stared at the diamond ring. Taking a long and deep breath, Steve set it down on your casket.

"Goodbye, Sweetheart."

***

With a forceful punch, Steve set that fourth punching bag across the room. As he turned around to grab another bag, he saw Sam standing in the doorway. He had his arms crossed.

"It's been two months," Sam said walking into the room.

"I know how long it's been," Steve picked up the next bag and hooked it up.

"Don't you think you've gone through enough punching bags?"

Steve turned to face his friend. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying," Sam took a deep breath and a few more steps towards Steve. "Punching your way through bag after bag isn't going to bring Y/N back. She'd want you to move on."

Steve turned away and started to wrap his hand up for another round. "Don't you think I know that? I was there when she got hurt. I was there when she died. I was there when they lowered her six feet into the ground."

"Steve," Sam started to say softly, lowering his arms.

"No," Steve said firmly. "Just stop and leave me be."

Sam looked down at the ground and nodded. "Alright, just remember you have friends and a team to lead. So when you're done with this," he gestures to the remaining bags on the floor a few feet from Steve. "Come back to us." With that, Sam walked out closing the door behind him.

Steve stared at the hanging bag in front of him. He knew Sam was right. He knew you would want him to stop this wallowing and depressing stage to move on and lead. He just missed you so much.

He looked down at his half wrapped hand and began to unwrap it. He tossed the material to the side as he walked out of the room. He walked through the kitchen, where everyone was sitting and starring, watching and waiting to see what his next move would be.

Steve turned to them with an eyebrow raised. "Training room. Now."

The End

[folerdetdufoler]

about a minute after i pulled away from my house on tuesday i realized i forgot my pink face paint but it was already too late to turn around. doing something like that would cause the dominoes of delays to topple and i wouldn’t actually make my flight. for that sacrifice i was rewarded smooth travel, but that meant my friday was a little less...fredag-y. alas.

i woke up for the sunrise again, and was rewarded with a mostly clear sky. the weather was turning out better than expected, which was good because i was planning on some walking today. the night before jenn invited me to ett bord for lunch, so that was my first scheduled event for the day, but i had some stops i wanted to make for personal, skam-related reasons.

after a leisurely breakfast i got dressed and applied sunscreen. then i messaged with nadège to figure out where to meet up on my way to nissen. i wanted to visit the national gallery, even though it was closed, as just a final nod to the museum that inspired rule of seven. we managed to message a firm meet up and then completely miss each other on the street, but we got our shit together eventually and made it to the museum. it was a little sad, if only because another tourist came up to us asking where the entrance was, and we had to break the news that the museum was closed at that location. granted, it was probably confusing seeing us taking pictures of the building as if it were still an active site, but still less confusing than the instructions i tried to give them about visiting the new museum in 2020 (uhhhh wtf kerry).

we moved on. we went to the school for no reason other than to step back into that world for a little bit, check up on the benches. we went to the KB for a drink, and then walked to the restaurant. i’m glossing over most of this because a lot of what was said during this time made me uncomfortable, and it all kind of built up over the next few hours until i snapped at lunch. i didn’t speak out or anything, i just capslocked on twitter once and then tried to tune everyone out. for some reason the restaurant was playing exclusively ed sheeran songs, so i just listened to that instead. i plucked heads and exoskeletons off of shrimp and drowned myself in lukewarm pop music.

the food was good. it was the first time i’d eaten shrimp like that. i don’t know what i was expecting, ordering “norwegian shrimp,” but that was exactly what it was and i shouldn’t have been so shocked. but in general i powered through.

after lunch i went back to the hotel to change before the park. i didn’t have my face paint but i was going to wear a skirt because it was robyn and apparently “one step up from the bare minimum” is my love language. i fell asleep at some point in my preparations, and woke up with my thumb still scrolling through instagram. then i was late, and missed seeing girl in red. but i found my girls as they migrated to the next stage, and was blessed with an absolutely electric performance from christine and the queens. it was another artist i’d never listened to before but i instantly regretted that; she blew us away with her energy and attitude and message, pumping out songs that your heart somehow already knew. it was a good mood-lifter, which i sorely needed after that afternoon.

okay well hold the phone because it’s been weeks since i started writing this post and i definitely lost my train of thought. after christine and the queens we went to get food. after we found a table to sit at, jenni, taru, and kati found us to do some hilarious candy trades. i was not aware of how valuable reese’s are overseas. but the point of mentioning this is that i was being wildly rude to these women because i was not sure who they were, and thus acted very cold. jenn had actually introduced me to jenni the day before and i simply did not connect her to the person i had chatted with online, someone i already knew. so i just compartmentalized them into “oh these are jenn’s friends” and kept myself out of their conversations. it’s kind of a generally rude thing to do, to shut myself off instead of trying to integrate with small talk, but here it was extra rude because i seemed to be ignoring the fact that we’d already “met.” gah! also i’m not sure when i finally connected the dots, but it was late enough to feel deep embarrassment about it and not really figure out how to apologize about it. so i didn’t. i think i tried to be more friendly when we met up the next day but knowing me i probably wasn’t. anyway, i apologize both for how i acted and for not acknowledging it/apologizing for it in person. i usually have a good reason for being rude, but this time it was just...insecurities? ugh.

okay so...the rest of the evening was just ROBYN. we tended to always gather around the same location, stage right, not too close but decently close because i fucking flew to oslo for this. and with every successive evening, the crowds were packed in tighter and more likely to dance. i was still trying to get used to the general lack of personal space but pretty early on i just gave up trying to stand my ground, letting people push past me and not worrying about who i was pushing in return. like, no one was going to win the fight for whatever little patch of grass you were standing on.

it was also an interesting experience as someone who is very aware of how much space she takes up in this world (too much!), being forced to acknowledge that constantly by the pressure of other people against my front and back. it didn’t help that i was wearing a backpack. but most of the time i can ignore that “bigness” by only being in spaces that allow me to fit with ample air around me. (the closest i get to other people these days is my airplane seat.) at a general admission concert though, that doesn’t exist. so i would sing and dance and think about weighing 237 pounds. i don’t know if it was necessarily a bad thing, just a new thing, and it was probably actually good to have that constant awareness, to shrink my comfort zone. i dunno. the real fight was me going back and forth thinking “i wish i took up less space” and “you deserve as much space as any other human being.”

clearly the problem with waiting a month to write a travel recap is that it actually becomes a therapy session about things that could’ve been figured out back in the states. so let’s really move on to robyn. leading up to the festival i’d been lazily following robyn’s tour, watching her play new york city twice and eating up every fan video of “dancing on my own,” where she let the crowd sing it for her simply because they were going to anyway. i was so excited to finally be part of that crowd, to hear the music like that, in my bones. and i did.

i tried to get my picture-taking out of the way at the beginning, because all i needed was one clear photo that could prove i was there. i don’t think i actually got it, but the important thing was i put my phone away and just enjoyed the music for most of her set. i had it ready to go when her two hits started, of course, but robyn, of all of the artists i’d seen, seemed most focused on creating an atmosphere for everyone to just be in. we had billowing curtains and sensual dancers that moved the air around us, which moved us too. we all were encased in lace with ribbons in our hair.

at some point i noticed a guy off to my right who was holding his plastic cup, the reusable one meant for the festival, and it was lit up. he had turned on his camera’s flashlight and was amplifying it through the bottom of the cup. i thought it was very clever and was impressed, wishing i could pause the concert to get enough space to retrieve my cup from my backpack and join him. i wanted to sway and hold up my lighter too.

i think i pointed it out to nadège in that pantomime way, just trying to direct her eyes away from the stage and hoping she’d figure the rest out on her own. she, of course, was already aware, because she then pointed out everyone else at the concert doing the same thing. i don’t know why i didn’t see it before, why i thought only this one guy was doing it, but the rest of the joint was lit up like a candlelight vigil. (looking back at the video i took during her bows, i’m realizing i simply didn’t see it because i’m too fucking short. i had to hold my phone up over my head to see the rest of the crowd beyond the border wall of shoulders around me.) she had the whole crowd at her feet, keeping watch, sending out electro-pop prayers.

i got what i came for. i got the rush of nostalgia for bånder, the single, freeing heartbeat of everyone dancing on their own, and the press of bodies to remind you you’re not actually alone. i was in oslo, the lights were blue, and i felt the pulse that’s been keeping me company ever since the clip dropped. as uncomfortable as my body might’ve been, my heart felt like it was where it belonged.

ugh that was some purple ass writing right there. and now i have to follow it up with “and then i walked back to the hotel.” because i did. i opened a new tab on my computer, and like it’s been doing for the past nearly-three years, it directed to the skam homepage. tap, tap, scroll, and then bånder was playing, chris was dancing, and isak and even were learning what electricity felt like with just a single point of eye contact.

then i was probably too buzzed to fall asleep for another couple of hours which is always a good life choice when you’re already severely sleep deprived. but when i did eventually nod off, i did so knowing that isak and even were on their way to falling in love, and an entire park had felt it too.

[eryiss]

Oneshot: The Life of His Deskmate

Summary: Laxus Dreyar: Reporter for Fairy Tail and member of an elite group of investigative journalists: The Raijinshuu. When trying to get evidence to bring down a criminal family, he finds himself at the wrong end of a gun and is saved by someone he didn’t believe existed. A vigilante who is closer to Laxus than he could ever imagine. His deskmate: Freed Justine. [Fraxus Oneshot | 22.6K Words]

This story was inspired by the tumblr user @aphtoris, who was very kind to let me write this based off their post. Please check out their blog for some other headcanons and ideas, both for Fairy Tail and some other fanbases you might know.

You can read it on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. I hope you all enjoy it!

The Life of His Deskmate

Friday, July 19th, 2019, Late Night

The first time Laxus laid eyes on Magnolia's supposed superhero, he had been somewhat spectacle of his existence. He had heard the rumours – everybody had – but nobody could get a good picture or even give a consistent description, so it was hard to see the story as anything other than, well, a story.

It becomes harder to deny a stories existence when confronted with it face to face, though.

Their meeting occurred by happenstance. Being an investigative reporter forced Laxus into situations that could put him at risk, something he had long since accepted. He and his team – named the Raijinshuu to only themselves – had become known for publishing scathing exposés that revealed the illegal activities of important people and companies throughout the company. Doing this meant that, from time to time, they needed to put themselves in a very real firing line. This was one such time.

They had received multiple anonymous tips against the Oración Seis family. Weapons dealing, high levels of drug trafficking, and god knows what else. He and his team had almost got enough to create a full story but knew that the family had enough influence in the city to refute any claims against them without irrefutable evidence being shown. Evidence that Laxus needed to get.

He hadn't made his findings known to anyone other than his team, meaning it was practically impossible for members of the family to know he was looking into them. Or that he existed at all; they all seemed to have the 'it won't happen to me' arrogance.

This gave Laxus the ability to sit in the same bar as one of the family members – Racer – without being noticed. Laxus wouldn't say that the man was the weak link in the family, but he was the most easily riled up and quick to run his mouth. Any time the family had gotten in trouble before, it was usually because he had let something out after spewing a stream of bullshit and something serious had snuck its way in. Nothing overly serious before, maybe something a little controversial, but their illegal activities were never revealed.

This was something Laxus intended to change. He hoped that he could watch the guy plough himself with alcohol, introduce himself and create a drunken bond, and then subtly probe him until he revealed something important. It wasn't the most moral kind of journalism, admittedly, but illegal weapon dealings weren't moral either. Laxus wouldn't lose sleep.

"Another vodka, darling," Laxus heard Racer demand of the obviously annoyed bartender.

The blonde wasn't yet ready to strike yet. It was barely eleven and, after snooping on the man's Twitter account for half an hour, it was obvious that he was the type of guy that would stay until the early hours of the morning drinking. Logic dictates that the longer the drinks, the drunker he gets and the more likely it'll be for him to reveal something. All Laxus needed to do was wait.

As he did so, he heard the small nagging doubt playing in the back of his mind. The voice that told him maybe setting a trap for a known affiliate of an arm dealer and criminal organisation wasn't smart. That he would have a weapon, and this could all go bad very quick. He shut that voice out.

In his work, Laxus was insistent that he did the best he possibly could. At the start, this was because he felt that he hadn't earned his position at the newspaper, as his grandfather owned the company and really had given him the job. Once he felt he had got his place deservedly, he felt a sense of obligation to continue doing the work. There was a lot of shit happening and not many people could find out who was doing it and to what extent. Laxus could, so he should.

God, that sounded so patronising every time he thought about it. The whole 'greater good' thing didn't completely suit him.

Still, that was why he was there. It was plainly obvious that this family were knowingly breaking the law in a way that could and did kill people, and Laxus needed to let people know. They could only publish this once and if the Oración Seis found a loophole, their work would be made useless. That was why he was in the damn bar, ignoring the voice that told him there was a better way to do this.

A voice that sounded like his damn photographer, Freed.

The cautiousness that Freed was taking with this story was unusual. Freed hadn't been scared of anything they'd tackled since being partnered together – and if he had, he hid it damn well. But recently, he was advising Laxus, Bickslow and Evergreen to be more cautious.

In fact, he'd been acting different for a little while now. His punctuality had slipped, not to the extent that he could be in trouble, but seeing the man come late three times in a week when it hadn't happened before was an odd occurrence. Laxus had wanted to broach the topic with his friend a few times, but had always been distracted by the story. Still, he was probably seeing an issue where there wasn't one; being a journalist made you more inclined to pessimism and distrust. More so when Laxus had started to consider maybe changing his relationship with Freed to something more-

Shit.

Having let his eyes stray from Racer's place at the bar, he only just managed to see him walking towards the door to the establishment. Laxus allowed his eyebrows to tighten slightly; from what he knew of the man, on his nights out he would pick a bar, drain it of all its vodka and call it a night. That certainly wouldn't happen this early in the night.

Before moving, Laxus let his eyes stray to the table the man had just left. He had been the only one who had left, meaning the group itself hadn't become tired of this bar and wanted to leave, and Racer constantly boasted about being the life of the party on his social media. So him leaving the group went against everything that he had found out about the man. Perhaps against his better judgement, Laxus stood up from the table he sat at, placed down the glass of scotch he had been nursing, and walked towards the exit of the bar.

After leaving, he looked down the semi-crowded streets of Magnolia. It took him a few moments of looking over the heads of people to find his target; no member of the Oración Seis could blend into a crowd, thankfully. He watched as Racer turned into an alley, and the blonde found his curiosity peak.

He quickly pushed his way though the crowds and towards the alleyway that Racer had retreated into. When he turned the corner, he saw that Racer was leaning against a wall, having walked past a dumpster and seemingly on his phone. Laxus approached slowly, unable to deny he was enjoying this.

'Come on, bastard.' Laxus thought to himself as he pulled out his voice recorder. 'Give me something.'

Crouching behind the dumpster, Laxus tried to remain as invisible as possible. He couldn't hear what he was saying, and even if his recorder could pick it up, Laxus needed to know now so that he could know if he had enough that he could leave. Against all hygienic logic, he leant forward and rested his head against the dumpster, he could just make out what he was saying.

"Yeah, I'll be there on time," He sounded annoyed. "Just trust me for once, fucks sake Cobra."

Laxus' eyes widened a little. Cobra was the name of one of his brothers, and the tone in which he was speaking sounded suggested that, whatever they're talking about, it was something important. The fact he needed to go into some crappy, unoccupied alleyway to have this conversation made it seem even more suspicious.

Racer shifted his position slightly, making it harder to Laxus to hear him again. The blonde shifted his position again, in an attempt to counter it. His eyes widened slightly as he felt his foot come into contact with something. The clanking of a bottle against concreate came seconds after.

Fuck.

A moment of silence occurred, and Laxus winced in anticipation, willing Racer to continue talking. That didn't happen, however, and a moment later the metal dumpster was shoved towards him, hitting him directly on the head with a large amount of force. Laxus was pushed back and let out a small exclamation of pain, fully giving out his position to the criminal who shared the alleyway with him.

The moment he heard footsteps nearing him, he slid the recorder into his back pocket. He needed to record this and, if Racer saw that he had a recorder, he would either destroy it or make sure not to say anything incriminating. This could be his last chance to get these bastard, he couldn't fuck it up.

But the second he saw Racer, his priorities changed completely. He was holding a gun, aiming it directly at Laxus, and the sneer on his face told Laxus that it wasn't just for show. The blonde felt his breath hitch slightly. Sure, he had been in dangerous situations before, but never had he had a gun pointed at him by a dangerous man who would almost defiantly pull the trigger if even slightly antagonised.

"Up," Racer demanded, his voice stern. "Now."

Laxus did as he was told, standing slowly and placing his hands in the air. He tried not to be annoyed by the smirk on the bastards face, and kept his own expressions neutral. The fact he hadn't been shot yet meant there was a chance of him getting out of this unscathed. He just needed to be careful.

"Walk," Racer said, motioning to where he had just been standing with his head. Laxus slowly did so, knowing that Racer was doing this so no random passer-by could see the gun.

The moment Laxus was standing with his back against the wall, his lower half covered by the dumpster, Jet stood close and pushed the gun into his stomach. Laxus tensed as he felt the weapon pressing against him, though managed to keep eye contact with the man holding him there. He needed to fund a way out of this, but Racer seemed to be somewhat of a professional at this. Still, some kind of an opening would present itself, he just needed to wait until that happened.

"Empty your pockets," Racer pushed the gun further against Laxus' stomach. The blonde moved slowly, removing his keys, wallet and phone from his front pocket. They were all tossed to the side without much care. "Don't fuck me around, blondie. Whatever the hell was in your back pocket, give it to me."

So he had seen it, fuck. Laxus slowly pulled the recorder out from his back pocket and handed it to Racer, who actually fucking laughed. Instead of tossing it to the side like he had with everything else, he dropped it in front of them both. He pushed the gun against Laxus further and grinned. He then raised his foot and crushed the device completely.

"Whoops," He spoke with arrogance. "How clumsy of me."

Laxus noticed that, as he bragged, the pushing of the gun against his stomach became looser. He glanced down for a second to see that his finger wasn't resting against the trigger anymore. This could be the only opening he got.

He quickly pushed forward, shocking the man enough for Laxus to barge his shoulder into his chest. Getting the gun away from Racer was the main priority, so he grabbed the man's wrist while slamming his back against the man's torso, pushing back and haphazardly pinning him against the wall of the alley. He tried to pry the gun from the man's hand, but the bastard seemed to had a grip of steel.

Knowing that it wouldn't be long until Racer managed to catch up in the fight, Laxus started to slam his elbow into the other man's stomach repeatedly, still holding the man's wrist so that at least he couldn't aim the weapon.

During the inelegant wrestling, Laxus was unaware that Racer had managed to place his finger onto the trigger of the gun again. He pulled it without care for where it was aiming, and the deafeningly loud ringing sound filled the alleyway and made Laxus stumble slightly; fuck that was so much louder than he could have expected. Racer seemed shocked by this too, as his grip on the weapon loosened slightly. The blonde lurched forward and grabbed it, prying the mans hands off it and tossing it into the dumpster; if Racer attempted to get it back, he would have to leave himself vulnerable while doing so.

Now without the weapon being part of the fight, Laxus was given the ability to step back and catch his breath. He raised his fists in a somewhat defensive position. He didn't get into fights often and wouldn't consider himself an expert, but Racer shouldn't be difficult to overpower now.

"Ain't as big without the gun, huh?" Laxus grinned a little.

"You think you can push me around," Racer snarled, face angered at the removal of his weapon. "I will fucking ruin you if you so much as touch me."

Perhaps running on adrenaline and being blinded to good sense, but the threat fell on deaf ears. Laxus launched himself forward and planted his fist into the man's cheek, the feeling of his knuckles against jawbone both satisfying and painful. Perhaps the punch was somewhat therapeutic, given his in-depth knowledge on practically all the horrendous things that this family had done or had been directly responsible for.

He went to send another punch flying through the air, but found his arm restrained part way through the attack. He looked around to see a large man had grabbed him, one of the same men that had been sitting with Racer. Either the length of the wait or the gunshot must have alerted his group to what was happening.

Before Laxus could react further, another arm wrapped around him in restraint. He tried to pull against it but the grip was harsh and unwavering, leaving him no wiggle room to escape. He looked towards Racer to see that he was smugly walking towards him. Bastard.

"Knife," The criminal demanded to one of his underlings. "Now."

Although he couldn't see it, Laxus assumed that one of the group had pulled out a knife that he had concealed on his person, and handed it to Racer. Laxus looked up to see that, indeed, Racer had taken a knife and was now brandishing it. The knife was nasty looking too, serrated and bouncing back the blight from the nearby streetlamp. The expression on Racer's face told Laxus that he was no longer willing to show mercy. He should have run while he had the chance.

"I assume you're a reporter," Racer said as he walked forward, resting the tip of the knife against his finger and twirling it. "I wonder if your colleagues will find it hard. Writing about your death, I mean. It'll make quite the story for your company."

With every step, Laxus found his heartbeat increase and his fear get larger. Now with what he estimated was four people holding him back, and an aggressive criminal advancing on him, the blonde realised that he should have listened to the voice in his head, and Freed earlier in the day, and should have thought about other ways to get the confession. Not that regret was doing much to help him.

"It's a shame you had to sacrifice yourself for it to happen," Racer taunted, grabbing the knife properly now. "Don't worry, I'll make it fa-"

Racer's words were cut off without warning, a rush of darkness seemingly streaming down from above and landing directly onto the criminal. Laxus watched with furrowed eyebrows as he saw that a man had landed onto Racer from above, assumedly having jumped from one of the buildings. There was silence for a moment as both Laxus and the criminals tried to assess what had actually just happened to the leader of the group.

Now standing before them was the supposed vigilante of Magnolia. Wearing a long, deep red coat and black mask, with vibrant green and black hair raised slightly. He was taller than most, sporting an obviously athletic physique and what seemed to be a well-crafted, perhaps handsome jawline; Laxus assumed that the rest of the man's face would be the same. Though his eyes were covered, his expression was obviously stern and serious, and Laxus found solace in this.

He had been saved. By someone who, until this point, he had surmised as a myth.

The vigilante didn't pay any attention to either Laxus nor the men holding him, probably seeing Racer as the main threat. He brought his hand to the criminals neck, and Laxus could do nothing but watch as the very same hand mutated, became covered in thick oily fur and adorned claws. He lifted Racer off the ground with this new claw, growled at him wordlessly and threw him to the side.

This action was seemingly enough to snap the men holding him out of their trance. Two sets of hands left him and two men walked towards the masked man. He turned to them, face still enigmatic, and brought his hands to a fighting position. Only one of his hands had changed form, it seemed.

While Laxus' fight with Racer had been sloppy and born from necessity, the hero's movements were fluid, smooth and almost elegant. They were too fast for Laxus to see anything with full certainty, but he could see the hero juggling the fight with both men with apparent ease, as if the fight had been choreographed in advance and they were all executing some violent dance that they all knew by heart. It was practically hypnotic.

After being pushed back into the wall by the hero, one of Racer's men pulled out a similar knife from a pocket and charged towards the vigilante. Seeing this, the hero raised his untransformed hand and placed it onto the man's chest. Laxus watched as the hero's eyes glowered purple for a moment and shapes formed on the criminal's chest. A moment later, the man began to roar in pain and scratch the shapes on his chest, as if desperately trying to peel them off of his body. Laxus watched with wide eyes, not sure what was happening.

With one of the two attacking men now seemingly incapacitated, the hero turned his attention to the other. He grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, now using his demonic hand, and raised him into the air. He slammed him down hard, his head hitting the side of the dumpster with a nauseating clank.

"Racer," A voice yelled from behind Laxus.

The blonde felt the remaining hands that restrained him disappear. He looked over his shoulder to see the two unharmed men run towards their boss, help him up and run to a car that had parked with the doors open beside the alleyway. The scrambled into the vehicle quickly, the tires screeching on the road the moment the door was closed, the men quickly driving off into the distance. Laxus found himself relaxing slightly, looking towards the vigilante as he caught his breath.

"Shit," He heard the vigilante mutter. His voice was slightly echoed and distorted, as if he had changed his voice on a computer.

He looked over his shoulder towards the two men that had attacked him. One was staggering to his feet, blood dripping from his head where it had hit the dumpster; shit, Laxus only just realised the man's skull had dented the damn metal. The other man had fallen to his knees, now screaming.

The vigilante raised his untransformed hands, and his eyes glowed purple again. Walls of the same shape-like letters occurred, this time forming completely around the two men. They seemed to create a translucent wall around them, a theory which was confirmed when bleeding man tried to charge at the hero with his knife but was stopped by the glowing letters. Laxus wordlessly watched as the hero raised a finger to his ear and started to speak.

"Sixty-eight street alleyway. Two men. Both contained, one concussed. Also a witness, he may be shaken up. Be quick." The hero spoke, assumedly into an earpiece.

Laxus watched as the hero started to walk down the alleyway, towards where the car had sped off from. He looked down at the tire tracks that had formed, only to see them disappear a little way down the road. The car itself had also gone, leaving no sign as to where they had ended up. The vigilante looked towards Laxus.

"The police are coming; they'll want a statement. Stay until they dismiss you," He demanded of Laxus, who finally found it in himself to speak.

"Sure. Erm, thanks for, well… thanks," He blundered slightly, looking at the man.

The transformation had gone now, and Laxus was afforded a better look at the man. The mask, though doing a shockingly good job at making him unidentifiable, showed clearly that he had chiselled facial features. He sweated slightly, though his pale skin wasn't overly reddened by the activity. His left eye glowed purple slightly and he seemed to be analysing him. All in all, he was pretty good looking.

"The leader of that group is an influential criminal," The hero said, walking back into the alley. Laxus couldn't help but follow him. "You shouldn't have attacked him. He would have killed you without me being there."

"Yeah, I know," Laxus muttered slightly. "I didn't wanna attack him. Bastard pulled a gun on me after he found me recording him. Trying to get him to confess on tape."

"So you knew he was dangerous, and you thought it was wise to follow him into a secluded alley unarmed and in the middle of the night," The hero asked as he placed his hand on the wall he had created. The letters on the roaring man's chest disappeared. "To know that much about him, you must be smart. Why do something so remarkably stupid?"

"'Cause if I got a confession, I could publish and stop their bullshit," Laxus explained, looking at the two contained men with confusion.

"I suppose that's justifiable," The vigilante sighed. "Don't make a habit of it, Mr Dreyar."

Laxus nodded, but stopped himself half way. He frowned and looked towards the hero as he walked down the alley. "How do you know my name?"

The vigilante didn't stop walking, but he did look over his shoulder with what seemed to be a smile on his face. "I'm an avid reader of your work, Mr Dreyar. I'm sure I'll enjoy your story on the Oración Seis when it's done. If you make sure you live long enough to publish it, of course."

The blonde could do nothing as the man before him disintegrated into the same lettering that contained the two criminals. Almost the exact moment the man was gone, a police car stopped at the end of the alley again and two police officers left the vehicle, looking towards the contained men and then Laxus himself. As they approached him, Laxus finally caught up with the reality of what just happened, and only one word could surmise his feelings.

"Fuck."

-~~~-

Saturday July 20th, 2019, Mid Morning.

Freed walked into the lobby of Fairy Tail News with a thermos of coffee in one hand, and a half eaten bagel in the other. He awkwardly placed his pass against the scanning pad that granted his access further than the reception desk, and took another bite of his breakfast, fighting back a yawn as he waited at the elevator with a few colleagues he couldn't identify by name; the Raijinshuu often kept to themselves in work.

As he stepped into the thankfully uncrowded elevator, he leant against the cool metal and willed it to wake him up somewhat. Though he had good reason to be tired, he would rather it not affect his productivity in the work that actually allowed him money.

In reality, his new found pseudo-occupation as vigilante hadn't affected his body clock all too dramatically. Whereas previously he had retired for the night around one in the morning most of the time, he now slept at four. He would now wake up at eight and rush his morning routine to get to work at nine, whereas previously he would wake at six and slowly make his way through his activities; meaning he only lost one hour of sleep. The time spent on the streets also did the job of his late afternoon workout, meaning the time lost in the morning could be recuperated by no longer going to the gym. So, he hadn't so much as gained morning tiredness than shunted it forward so that it occurred at work.

That didn't make it any less obnoxious to be professional when he first sits as his desk, however.

When the elevator arrives at his floor, he leaves and slowly walks to his office. He only speaks to Mirajane and Levy, both of who he is sociable with as they had previously had desks either side of him before his promotion. He then walked into the Raijinshuu's secluded office space, sat himself at his desk and allowed himself some time to relax.

He was the first to be there, as usual. Bickslow and Evergreen would come later, having a later start to the day but also a later end. Laxus should be here but, as his punctuality would always act in direct coloration to his mood, so he would almost never arrive at nine exactly. This would either mean he had been in an hour earlier than needed and had always started his work, or would be late and they would later receive a visit from the blonde's grandfather. To his credit though, the time spent working overtime always made up for his lateness in the end.

This worked well for Freed as well, as whenever Laxus was late it allowed Freed a few moments of respite before the working day truly began.

Although technically he was only the photographer for the group, he did a lot more for the group. Not only would he take and prepare the photographs so they could be used, he would also read through all proposed stories both for structural and story issues; the serious nature of many of the stories they covered meant his subjective critique was just as needed as the editors objective one.

Lazily sipping his coffee as he slid his camera's SD card into his computer, Freed began to think back over the previous night. Particularly, his alter-ego's first encounter with Laxus. The same Laxus who sat directly opposite him.

Although Laxus was an excellent reporter who could easily pick out something a regular person would miss, he doubted Laxus knew it was him who had been his saviour. The biggest consistence between Freed and his vigilante self was his hair, which he doubted Laxus would have picked up on. Whereas the alter-ego had bright green hair with black streaks throughout that hung loose, Freed's normal hair was considerably more muted in it's green colour as well as tied up high in a pony tail. That, combined with the mask, change of eye colour, costume, and the absurdity that someone you know well could hide that he has demonic powers should keep his identity secret enough.

This was also the reason Freed, as his alter-ego, had mentioned reading Laxus' stories. If Laxus were to consider Freed being the vigilante, he would assume that Freed would cut off any connection to knowing him. doing the opposite would lead Laxus to confusion and would hopefully make him second-guess his conclusion.

Freed didn't know if his spells could alter someone's memory. And if they could, he didn't know if he could morally use it on someone he knew.

He had closed his eyes while thinking and let out a small laugh when he opened them again. As the Raijinshuu could take months for their exposé, they also needed to write fluff and filler stories under pseudonyms, hence why his computer was filled with images of a pug on a small trampoline because she had won a local competition. The contrast between his nights and his morning were so large that it could only be surmised by a laugh.

Mindlessly scrolling through the pictures he had taken the day before, in hopes of finding one that could be easily proportioned into the required size while not lacking quality, he heard the door to their office open. He looked over his shoulder to see it was Laxus.

"Good morning," He greeted, eyes scanning the other man slightly as he walked towards him.

"Morning," Laxus mumbled, running a hand over his face and collapsing into the chair seated opposite Freed.

He seemed better rested than Freed was, even if he was being more dramatic about it that Freed. He did have slight bags under his eyes and what seemed to be a nasty bruise forming under his right eye. Although it looked painful, it would at least be useful to Freed as it could give him a way into bringing up the subject of what happened last night, as well as chastising him for his stupidity with both of his personas. He wondered if Laxus was more likely to listen to him than the vigilante version of himself.

But he could broach that topic later, it was early in the morning and both men clearly hadn't yet awoken fully. So Freed simply frowned at the bruise as if confused as to why he had acquired it, before going back to browsing pictures and drinking his coffee.

Every few moments, he would glance up at Laxus. Unless Racer and his little gang had done anything to the blonde's torso, the only injury that Laxus had received was the bruise. He hadn't limped either last night or this morning, and although Laxus was the type to put himself in danger for his work, he also wasn't stubborn enough to deny the need for a doctor whenever it arose. So the fact he was here, and the only mark of an injury was a superficial bruise, meant that Freed had managed to keep his friend relatively safe the night before.

His being in the same area as Laxus wasn't entirely coincidental. Laxus had mentioned wanting to get the confession from Racer that night, so Freed had made sure to stay relatively near the bar Racer could often be found at.

He hadn't planned on prioritising Laxus throughout the night. Since he had begun his vigilante work, he had manged to work out a pretty effective system in finding crimes in action; a mixture of local news alerts as well as having hacked into a police radio system that played into an earpiece in his right ear; by the end of the first week he managed to drown out all unneeded words as well as understand many of the police terminology. If something had happened in the city unrelated to Laxus, he would have dealt with that rather than staying near Laxus. But, as the main issue of the night was the gunshot of Racer and Laxus' fight, he hadn't needed to worry.

Another yawn split apart Freed's lips as he placed the now empty thermos of coffee onto the desk, and Laxus chuckled slightly at it.

"Late night?" The blonde asked, cracking his back slightly as he adjusted his chair, so it was leaning back slightly. Freed know from experience that this meant he was working on a filler story, as when he worked on something, he was passionate about his posture would be better.

"Not intentionally," Freed lied, finally deciding on a picture and opening it in Photoshop. "Apparently I'm unable to see the difference between caffeinated and decaffeinated coffee."

"Maybe that'll be our next story once we finish with these bastards," Laxus joked, spinning in his chair as he procrastinated writing the award-winning dog story. "Famous journalist credited with taking down notorious crime family faces shame and public scrutiny as it's revealed, he can't fucking read a coffee can."

"And that, Laxus," Freed chuckled slightly. "Is why I don't let you write the headlines."

"What was wrong with it?" Laxus laughed, still not yet writing.

"Three things," Freed leant forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "One, it's so long that you'd have to write it in a small font for it to fit onto a page. Two, you should never give away the entire headline in the story, that's just standard. Three, do you really think your grandfather would allow the word 'fucking' on the front page of his newspaper?"

"Good points. You sure it's not just because you get paid for writing the headlines?" Laxus taunted slightly. Freed simply chuckled in response. "You think you're front page news, huh?"

"As if I'd accept anything less."

Laxus chuckled and, finally, started to type on his keyboard. Freed decided to leave him to it; even when doing something he wasn't passionate about, Laxus could get into a rhythm of writing and do a full draft within an hour if he wasn't interrupted. But if he was interrupted while writing a story he wasn't interested in; it was a battle to get him to start again. He could be something of a child at times.

Freed did everything needed on the picture to make it presentable, before opening one of the drafts that Evergreen had sent him. He had chosen her work to start on as she was more likely to self-edit as she went, rather than Laxus and Bickslow who could get caught in the moment of writing and make mistakes without realising it. They all had instances of being guilty of this, but Ever did it the least, meaning editing her work was the easiest thing for his half awake morning brain.

"So," Freed spoke as he formatted Ever's work, finding himself unable to stop himself. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"What happened when?" Laxus asked over the sound of his quick typing.

"Whenever you got the bruise," Freed glanced over the top of his monitor to see Laxus pull out his phone and assess his reflection; he must have not noticed it before. "And if you try to tell me that you fell on something, or walked into an open door, I will take it as a personal insult against my intelligence and I won't be happy."

Laxus stopped for a moment, obviously thinking. Freed had to wonder if Laxus was considering lying about what he was doing, or considering lying about meeting the vigilante that he had previously denied existing.

"Went to a bar," Laxus spoke eventually. "Got a little drunk, some bastard was making too much noise. Went into an alley and, well, you can guess."

Ah. So he wasn't actually going to lie, but he would conveniently leave out all the aspects of his night that would tell Freed he did something stupid and put himself in danger. Freed had heard stories of how Laxus had acted as a child, none all that complimentary. If he could lie as smoothly as he just had, he could imagine the trouble he could have given his grandfather while going through his rebellious phase. Freed might be able to laugh, if Laxus wasn't hiding the fact that he nearly got both stabbed and shot the night before.

"Well obviously you're lying or not telling me everything," Freed muttered, and saw Laxus frown at him in a silent question as to how he knew this. "If that's what happened, you wouldn't be proud of it and would lie. The fact that you're telling me that, it means that something worse happened. So, again, what happened?"

"I trailed Racer," Laxus sighed. "Went to a bar, wanted him to confess. He left for an alley, I followed him, things went bad for a while but I'm fine."

"Bad how?" Freed sighed.

"There was a gun. And a knife."

"For god's sake Laxus," Freed groaned, reigniting the frustrations he felt when he first saw what had happened to Laxus the night before. "I told you multiple times that, before we try and get them to confess face to face, we should explore all other options. And if we do need to act like that, at the very least make your intentions clear."

Freed knew that he was perhaps being more cautious that he would have been before he began his vigilante work. Perhaps it was because he was becoming more aware of how bad the people they were investigating truly could be, and perhaps it was a slight amount of arrogance because he knew that he could handle himself in these situations but, as nobody else had the abilities that he had, other people could not. Either way, what happened the night before gave clear evidence as to why caution was sometimes good.

He wouldn't continue complaining about it. Although it could have ended up incredibly badly, he only ended the night with a bruise and it might have shaken him up enough so that he might show more caution than he had before.

Laxus also seemed to be happy with the conversation ending, so they both went back to their respective work. Freed started to make the small adjustments on the story Ever had sent him, while Laxus continued writing the story again. Admittedly, it was slightly funny to see the large man pouting slightly at his desk, made even more funny when he realised that he was a well-respected journalist writing a story about a dog bouncing on a trampoline.

"I need a walk," Laxus suddenly proclaimed after his stream of typing died down. "You wanna blow off for half an hour? Say we don't have any good pics of the dog and we need some more?"

"Sure," Freed smiled a little. "Though, again, I must say I'm offended that you think anyone would believe I can take a picture that isn't perfect."

Laxus chuckled, standing up and slinging his coat over his shoulders. He picked up his bottle of water as Freed placed the camera back into its bag, which was then slung over his shoulder as to make the lie more believable. They walked to the elevator side by side, again Freed greeted his previous desk mates as he passed them; though he did resist the urge to kick Mirajane's chair as her eyes flickered between the two men suggestively. She had some form of invested interest between whatever relationship the two men had together.

"So," Laxus said as he pushed the button to call the elevator. "Since I can't do any work tonight, you mind if I come over for some company? I'll bring pizza though, ain't a freeloader. I'd invite you to mine but you've seen my place."

Freed chuckled, a little weakly, at the expense of Laxus' crappy studio apartment that he could defiantly improve on and not become financially unstable. It was a running joke between the Raijinshuu that Laxus' apartment wasn't anywhere near as good as it should be, given the money he earns and the position he had at the company, meaning he would have to laugh at the self-deprecating joke to not seem odd.

But in truth, the innocent question was concerning to Freed. Since he had begun his vigilante work, he hadn't really had to balance his social and alter-ego life much. Even on the nights he had decided not to take to the streets, he had the ability to change his mind if something had happened.

Hypothetically, if Laxus were to come to Freed's apartment and something were to happen in the city, he would either have to sit through it and do nothing, or he would have to reveal that he had been the one to save Laxus the night before as well as being the costumed hero that had been protecting Magnolia as of late. And although Freed had realised that being a hero wasn't exactly as presented in comic books, and Laxus wasn't suddenly going to be suspended above boiling oil as leverage against him, Laxus knowing about his alter-ego would defiantly open a can of worms that Freed wasn't yet ready for.

Though, Freed had figured out a way to put people to sleep. It might not be the most ethical thing to do, but he could use that spell on Laxus if the situation required. He could be subtle with his casting, and he would enjoy spending time with Laxus out of work.

"Sounds good," He finally spoke as the elevator doors opened. "Make sure the pizza's got chorizo on it."

"As if I could forget," Laxus grinned as they entered the elevator. "The high standards of Freed Justine are imprinted on my mind. Wouldn't want to wake up the spoiled rich kid inside, you've been keeping him contained for so long there must be one hell of a tantrum building up."

"And smart-ass comments like that are what might finally bring it to the surface."

Hearing Laxus chuckle, Freed decided that he had made the right decision. Sure, if the worse were to happen then it might be a little difficult to pull of perfectly, but having a lazy night with the other man in his company was worth the risk. He could do this.

-~~~-

Saturday July 20th, 2019, Late Night.

Laxus slowly rolled his neck back as he pushed further into Freed's sofa. The thing was more comfortable than his bed, and the blonde found it hard to resist the screaming urge that told him he should sleep; he had been more shaken from the previous night's activities, so sleep had been spotty and uneven at best. He was more than willing to make up for that, but he had invited himself into Freed's apartment, falling asleep after doing that would just be rude.

And, of course, he wanted to keep an eye on Freed.

He liked to think he knew his photographer well, and he could notice when things weren't right with him. So to see Freed acting tired at his desk over the last month or so, along with a whole assortment of other small shifts in how he acted, it made Laxus worry. Perhaps unnecessarily but being aware of that didn't make him worry any less.

This was why Laxus had invited himself into Freed's apartment for the night; so he could either put his worries to rests and confirm that nothing was wrong with Freed, or at least have full confirmation that he wasn't over thinking so he could try and help his friend. Spending time at work had allowed Freed to keep Laxus pretty much at arms length, but spending time with him in his apartment would allow the man to let his guard down. Also, Laxus enjoyed the company of his friend, and spending a night with him was considerably nicer than what he had done the night before.

Having been at Freed's apartment for over an hour, nothing was overly concerning. Freed still cleaned the place to a near obsessive degree, he hasn't been overworking himself at home in any obvious way, and he hadn't seemed overly stressed or antsy as they had eaten. All in all, Freed seemed pretty much the same as usual.

'Thank god.'

He knew that he had probably been overthinking. It was something he was prone to doing, more so with Freed. He didn't feel protective over the other man – not really – but he did pay more attention to his friend than he did with anyone else in his team. The reason for this was also obvious to him.

Although he couldn't accurately define it, he knew he had some kind of feelings for the man. It had happened almost instantaneously; he was working on his first expose and needed a photographer to help get some incriminating pictures of a celebrity. Most people working for the newspaper had denied his request, being involved in a case against someone with such a large social influence could be career suicide, but Freed hadn't batted an eyelid. In fact, he had shown so much confidence in his work that his actual reply was 'as long as you don't get in my way, of course.' That cocky, fearless attitude combined with the good looks of the man, it was natural for Laxus to feel that way.

As time went by, Laxus started to call on Freed as his photographer before anyone else. They soon became partners, and got to know each other better. Freed was actually pretty funny, with a sharp wit and almost nihilistic sense of humour. The closer he got to Freed, the more parts of the man he found he liked. So of course he found himself feeling some kind of romantic feelings to the man.

He'd say he had a crush, but he was a twenty-three-year-old man. Not a six-year-old.

The issue with feeling like that was his lack of ability to talk about it. He wasn't a romantic person, and talking about his emotions had never been something he was confident in doing. So even if he could gather the courage to perhaps bring it up, he would stumble over his words and make an ass out of himself. Not to mention risking his friendship with the man. God; he really did sound like an angsty teenager when he started to think about it.

"You seem very lost in thought," Freed said as he returned from his kitchen, holding out two opened beers and handing one to Laxus. "Anything on your mind."

Damn, he really needed to stop his mind from wondering to such a degree. For someone who's career it was to look into the small things that people tried to hide and come to conclusions based off it, he wasn't great at keeping his emotions hidden behind a mask.

"Just thinking about what happened last night," He lied, although that had been something that had been toying on his thoughts for a multitude of reasons.

He hadn't realised it at the time, perhaps too high on adrenaline, but the previous night was insane. He had been held at gunpoint by an apparently murderous member of a soon-to-be notorious crime family, who he then beat up until he required his cronies to restrain him. He then was going to be stabbed by the damn guy, only for him to be saved by someone who's exitance he had doubted. A man who could apparently perform spells, transform his hand into some kind of monstrous claw, as well as teleport. And the guy apparently knew his work?

Everything was fucking insane! Laxus had woken up thinking he had experienced some kind of fever dream.

"I know it isn't something you want to re-live, but I'm happy to listen if you do want to get it off your chest," Freed offered.

"You wouldn't believe me," Laxus chuckled, bringing the beer to his lips and taking a sip.

"Try me."

Laxus thought for a moment. He supposed that Freed, being a reported, had to have at least a partially open mind. And the stories of the vigilante were getting more popular, so it would seem as though Laxus was just making up bullshit.

"Fine," He eventually said, an almost challenging smirk on his face. If Freed was willing to believe anything, Laxus certainly had a story to test that claim. "Last night, I was saved by the superhero guy."

Although he didn't look at Freed, Laxus could imagine his expression. Restrained shock that would probably turn into amusement at the fact Laxus was backtracking on something that he had been steadfast against existing. The moment he heard a soft chuckle, he knew that his assessment of Freed's reaction was right; of course the guy would enjoy Laxus changing his mind on something that he had previously would have argued passionate against.

"Okay," Freed said after a few moments. "Explain, so I can pinpoint the moment you hit your head and started becoming delusional."

"You know it's that kinda attitude that gets a guy kicked out of another guys apartment." Laxus chuckled, not actually offended.

"You going to kick me out of my own apartment?" Freed raised an eyebrow.

"Guess not. But I can storm out and slam the door pretty fucking hard," Laxus grinned, sipping at the drink he nursed in his hands. "Piss off all your neighbours, get you kicked out. And when you come to my place 'cause you're homeless, then I'll kick your ass to the kerb."

Freed laughed at the comment, also drinking his beer as he mindlessly scrolled through his Netflix to put on something that would entertain them both. Having this slightly flirtatious conversation with Freed, it left all his doubts about his friend in the back of his mind. He was just thankful that he could accredit the slight redness of his cheeks onto the beer he was drinking, because the gentle brushing of their shoulders along with the pleasant, easy conversation between them was something that was defiantly causing a blush to form.

"So," Freed spoke again. "What happened."

"Pretty much what I said before," Laxus shifted so that he was looking at Freed, also so that their knees didn't touch as that was just too much for a slightly drunk man to handle. "Was gonna try and get Racer to make some kind of confession when he was drunk. He left the bar earlier than I thought he would, so I followed him into an alley."

"Always a wise choice with a weapons dealer."

"Fuck off," Laxus laughed, smile remaining on his face. "So yeah, followed him. Fucked up a little and he found me recording him, so he pulled a gun on me, made me crush the recorder – I need a new one, by the way – and started to threaten me."

The fact he was recounting this story in such a comical way seemed odd even to Laxus, but he couldn't feel any different. He expected that, if his life had ever been in danger like it had been, it would affect him more. And yes, sleep had been difficult and many of his dreams had been filled with gunshots and sharp knives, but it wasn't as if he couldn't close his eyes without having flashbacks. Either he was unusual, or fiction liked to glamorise the effects of a traumatic to a pretty dramatic degree.

"Managed to knock the gun out," The blonde continued. "Got in a few punches; damn satisfying. Then his bastard minions got involved and held me down. Racer pulled out a knife, was gonna stab me, then the guy drops from the sky, kicks the fucker and beats the hell out of him and two of his bastards."

"He just happened to be there?" Freed asked.

"Gun went off when I was getting it off Racer, guess he must have heard it," Laxus shrugged, brining the beer to his lips. "He didn't just fight them, though. He had all these spells and crap. Like, he made walls and he got a claw and… yeah, I sound like an idiot, don't I?"

"Not at all," Freed said, his voice sounding amused. "Your stories pretty consistent with everyone else Bickslow talked to. Maybe he can interview you next."

Laxus groaned in slight embarrassment. He had first found out about the vigilante from Bickslow, who pitched the story to Laxus. After hearing this, Laxus had made a pretty big show about how they shouldn't waste time following some non-existent superhero while they had a case as serious as the Oración Seis to deal with. He still maintained that was a logical stance to take, but he also knew Bickslow would rip the hell out of him when Freed inevitably told him.

"So, you've got a first person recount of him," Freed continued. "What was he like?"

"Honestly, pretty hot," Laxus laughed, the alcohol in his system loosening his barriers. "Good body, handsome, cocky. Probably good in bed."

He let out a laugh at his own words. The laugh was partially because the vigilante was the closest thing to a superhero that reality had to offer and, after being saved by him, Laxus had admitted to finding him hot like he was a damsel in distress in a comic book. He also laughed because everything he had admitted to liking about the vigilante, he could also say about Freed. Other than the good in bed thing, because he had to remain somewhat professional with the guy and thinking about how he would be between the sheets was a dangerous thing to do.

Thankfully, the awkward confession of attraction towards the vigilante isn't lingered on. Freed lets out a small laugh, though it had a slightly different lilt than his normal laugh. Either he was overthinking things again, or his drunken mind way playing tricks on him.

"So that solidifies your type then, doesn't it Laxus," Freed grinned. "Almost entirely unattainable, and possibly fictional. You don't make life easy for yourself, do you?"

The irony of Freed's words were not lost on Laxus; the object of any real desires was truly unattainable, but certainly not fictional. The blonde slowly turned his head away from the TV and towards Freed. The light from the TV shone onto his face, highlighting his near impossible mixture of fragility and ruggedness that made up his features. That, combined with the sharp, annoyingly beckoning lips, made Laxus realise just how uneasy he had made his life for himself. There Freed was, always both so close and so out of reach.

The silence seemed them turned suddenly deafening as Freed looked away from the TV also, and directly into Laxus' eyes. The closeness of the two men became clear, and Laxus was now incredibly aware of their shoulders resting against each other, and how his knee knocked against Freed's.

Shit.

He sat still for a moment, almost as if he didn't want to spook the man. Freed's eyes scanned Laxus' face, analysing him with a slightly soft expression. Laxus made sure that, when his eyes eventually rested again, he was ready to greet them. They both leant forward slightly, Laxus leaning down while Freed jutted his chin upwards slightly. Laxus felt his breath hitch as a hand softly landed on his lower thigh; Freed's hand.

Perhaps not so out of reach.

They both slowly leant forward further. Their foreheads gently connected as they moved their lips closer. Laxus felt the soft exhales of Freed's breaths tickle his lips in an almost cruel taunt as he made the final move to bring him into a kiss.

And, in a cruel act of fate, Freed's phone lit up and blurted loudly from the coffee table.

They pulled apart suddenly, the slightly drunken spell cast on each other breaking as they pulled away. Laxus recognised the blaring alarm coming from Freed's phone to be that of the Fairy Tail app's news alert; though why he had to have it that loud was unknown to Laxus. Or why he had to have the damn thing at all, for that matter, as they both worked for the damn newspaper and would figure out what had happened pretty soon without an obnoxious push notification. More so when they were just about to fucking kiss!

"You really need it that fucking loud?" He demanded, a scowl on his face that he couldn't bother to hide.

"Sorry, my phone needs to be updated. Volume keeps changing without me wanting it to," Freed explained, and Laxus hoped the hint of annoyance in the other man's voice wasn't just wishful thinking. The other man picked his phone from the table and read the notification. "Damn."

"What's up?" Laxus asked, mainly out of obligation. What he really wanted to do was smash the offending phone and demand they continue their previous actions.

"A fire," Freed explained, standing up and walking to his window. Even from where Laxus was sitting, he could see smoke rising across the sky. "Kitchen fire, at the Blue Pegasus Hotel, apparently."

Despite his annoyance at the situation, he knew it was superficial in comparison to what had caused it. Having a fire at an office would be bad, but a hotel was awful. It would be heavily populated in the night and, given the extent of the smoke covering the city, a hell of a lot of people might be hurt. He immediately thought about how his work would be tomorrow; being a journalist the day after a cataclysm was the most sobering thing Laxus had been through. He could only hope that the people inside could be helped before the fire could get too bad.

A small part of his mind wondered if the vigilante from the night before would be helping.

"Jesus, most people would be asleep by now," Freed commented, looking towards his clock. It was one in the morning.

"Yeah," Laxus agreed soberly. "Still, as shit as it is, all we can do it let the professionals do what they can and help as many people as possible."

"I suppose," Freed sighed, walking back to the coffee table. He picked up the two bottles of beer and walked towards the kitchen, though lingered directly behind the sofa as he passed it. "Do you want to stay here tonight? No point in walking home this late."

"You don't mind?" Laxus looked over his shoulder towards Freed.

"Not at all."

Laxus was about to thank his host, when the other man placed both hands on his shoulders. He opened his mouth to ask what was happening – as well as ignoring the hopeful thought that Freed would lean down and finish what they had started before – but he felt a sudden wave of tiredness overthrow him. His muscles relaxed within an instant, his mind quickly calming to a point of near unconsciousness. It was unnatural, but he felt the tiredness too overwhelming to care.

Lacking the willpower to question what was happening, Laxus allowed his eyes to close. His head fell against the back of Freed's sofa, resting his blurring gaze on Freed's bedroom door.

And although his sight was hazy and oppressed, a moment before the sleep could take him completely, he could almost be sure he saw Freed pick up a coat from the back of his door and adorn it.

A coat exactly the same shade as the one the vigilante had worn the night before.

Huh.

-~~~-

Monday August 5th, 2019, Late Evening.

There was something about doing this that made Freed feel alive.

An adrenaline rush would course itself through his veins every time he placed the mask against his face. He would teleport himself onto a random rooftop, loving over the well illuminated city of Magnolia, and something would just ignite inside of him. A passion, a sense of duty, a roaring voice that said that this town was his domain and it was his privilege to protect its residents as best he possibly could.

He would jump from rooftop to rooftop, his wings making previously unthinkable distances to cross seem like a simple step. He would check the most popular spots for mugging and criminal dealings, stop them if he saw them, and return back to patrolling the next part of the city.

If he were to say he didn't enjoy his vigilante work, he would be lying.

Perhaps he was just imagining it, but he felt his presence in the city had some kind of effect on the amount of crime in the city. There was no great supervillain, nobody with a vendetta against him as far as he knew, so he had the ability to tackle the smaller crimes that, at least in fiction, were hardly mentioned. So, after being beaten up by someone with abilities that can only be described as magical, Freed liked to think that the backstreet muggers and drug dealers would think that the risk wasn't worth it. Or maybe it was arrogance mixed with the thrill of what he was doing becoming more regular; but Freed liked to think he had an impact.

With every day that went by, he felt himself getting better at vigilante work. His sleep schedule was finally starting to adjust to his new hours, so he wasn't all but dead to the world when he came into work. The sense of obligation was also lessening; he could only help the people he could find, and if a crime happened without him knowing, he shouldn't feel guilty.

He had also started to map out how the city's criminals worked. There were certain days in which the standard crimes of mugging, drug dealings and vandalism were less consistent, mainly mid-week when there were less people on the streets to be the victims. On these days, Freed often shortened his patrol time so that he could catch up on the sleep that his body still demanded. He also knew some of the worst spots for crimes that occurred often, such as the central square being a hellscape of pick-pockets picking on drunk people. All in all, he was starting to get a streamlined routine going and a sense of regularity back into his life.

But over the last week or two, he had found himself on the streets at the night more than needed.

It was a distraction, stopping him from confronting the reality that he and Laxus had almost kissed; that they would have kissed if it weren't for his news alerts. Laxus was one of the few men that Freed had actually considered a relationship with, and there was a very good chance that their almost kiss would have stopped that from actually happening.

When it was happening, Freed's mind had been in a rush. A fire was happening, and people likely would be trapped in a place where only Freed could save them. He needed to prioritise them, so he put Laxus into a sleep spell as soon as possible and teleported away within the minute.

After saving everyone he could, Freed was given time to think.

He had walked home rather than teleporting, his mind fully engrossed in the memories of the near-kiss he shared with Laxus. They had both been drinking, so Freed couldn't be sure if Laxus' leaning in was fuelled by the beer running through his veins, or if there had been some genuine form of attraction to him.

At least he could be sure that Laxus was attracted to his vigilante self. That was something Freed had found himself chuckling at.

When he had returned to his apartment, his mind was still plagued by the nights events were going to affect his relationship with Laxus; something made harder when he remembered that the very same blonde was sleeping on his sofa. He had placed his friend on his bed, made the sofa up for himself and forced himself not to think about it for the night.

It was something he had been doing for nearly two weeks now. Hence, why he was on patrol on a lazy Wednesday night. A distraction.

He felt he had justification for needing a distraction, though. Because, it was clear to Freed that Laxus remembered at least the kiss they almost shared, as there had been a slightly shift in how they acted around each other. He wasn't shunned exactly, and it wasn't as if there was a lingering secret that needed to be revealed, but it just felt different. Like they were both keeping each other at arm's length so that they don't need to discuss what had happened. A task made difficult when they work directly opposite one another and are practically partners in what they do.

Freed can't blame Laxus for this, as he knew he was doing the same. It was more convenient to pretend nothing had happened, so that's what he was doing.

Which was fine. It was working fine.

With a burst of enthusiasm, Freed ran towards the edge of the building he stood on. He pushed off from the edge of the structure and propelled himself into the dark sky, purple translucent wings forming behind his and allowing him to fly throughout the city.

Soaring through the brisk summer air, he made sure not to disrupt the people below as made his way to the western end of the city. Although it was the more affluent part of the town, it also had considerably more crime. Freed suspected that, as the people who were targeted had more money, the criminals would think they would be more willing to give it up. Sound logic, and at least with the criminals focusing on this part of the city it meant less muggings would happen without Freed knowing about it.

However, there was of course another reason for his focus in this area. Laxus had found out earlier in the day that Angel, a member of the Oración Seis family, had just started to become involved with the family's dealings. Laxus had been excited, knowing that out of all the family members, she was least likely to know his face. Meaning he could still get his confession from a member of the family.

And of course, as Laxus always seemed to act on instinct, it would only be so long before he put his plan into action.

It wasn't hard to find that Angel was staying in the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel in this area of the city, and it was even easier to find out she was in the hotel's bar every night drinking. Knowing Laxus as well as he did, Freed realised that he would try to flirt his way into her apartment, overwhelm her with compliments after she had gotten drunk enough to make her more likely to reveal some secrets, and probe her as subtly as he could until he got what he wanted. It was a plan that had worked before, but Freed doubted Laxus would just get slung onto the streets in a state of undress if it went wrong. Angel was someone to be feared, and Laxus' excitement might have clouded that from him.

He was keeping Laxus at arm's length, but still cared for him a great deal. And if Laxus couldn't execute his plan perfectly, he might need the vigilante to save him.

Instead of landing on the luxury building itself, he settled for perching on the fire escape of the building that sat opposite. He could clearly see the penthouse suite, the only place violence could occur without being caught by the copious amounts of security cameras that covered both in and around the hotel.

Time passed slowly as he waited to see if something had happened. The vigilante wasn't proud of it, but he had checked in on Laxus' apartment before he left and found out that the blonde wasn't there. He knew the other man well enough to know he wasn't going to be social when he was so close to finalising a story that had been plaguing his mind for such a long time, so he would defiantly be there. Freed just needed to wait and see if something was going to happen.

"Perhaps I should get an eyepiece," He spoke to himself, something he found himself doing more often now. "Shouldn't be hard to hack into hotel security."

After ten or so minutes of leaning against the uncomfortable metal railings of the fire escape, Freed found himself bored out of his mind. He sprouted his wings again and started to fly around the area, looking out for any crimes in progress that he could stop, or any recognisable faces that he could pay a visit to before they could hold someone at gunpoint and scare them half to death. He found none, which was perhaps for the best as his eyes continuously strayed towards the window of the penthouse suite. So far, the lights in the room hadn't been turned on.

He waited around for nearly an hour before something had happened – waiting was also a larger part of doing vigilante work that fiction failed to tell you about – and the lights to the hotel suite turned on. He landed on a nearby building and looked through the window, eyes narrowing slightly to get a better view.

There was Laxus. With a gun pressed into his back. Of course.

Jumping into action, Freed knew that if Angel was willing to shoot Laxus even his teleportation wouldn't be fast enough to stop her. He flew forward as fast as he could towards the window, eyes trained on the gun. It was the same type the family sold; meaning he knew the metal the casing was made out of. Within in instant, runes plastered themselves across the walls of the suite she was in, heating up that exact metal to a boiling point. He smirked when he saw Angel suddenly throw the gun to the side.

Knowing that he couldn't teleport while using his wings – it was too draining on him – he decided to hold back on entering the room. Instead, he waited and hoped that Laxus would take the chance given to him to get the hell out of there.

Mercifully, the moment the gun was thrown to the side Laxus barged Angel out of the way and ran for the door. Freed let out a breath that he was holding, only to hold it again when Angel ran towards a wall mounted tablet. She pushed a button just before Laxus could reach the door, and when the blonde pulled on it for it to be opened, Freed could only watch as he struggled it. He assumed that this was some kind of security system, disallowing Laxus his exit.

Freed took in a short breath, wondering what his options were. The gun was still untouchable, unless Angel wanted a pretty bad burn, so that was one positive. The new issue was, the woman now had a knife; apparently Laxus was making a habit of nearly getting shot and then nearly getting stabbed.

He needed to act fast.

The windows were going to be unbreakable if the hotel's security was this good, and even if Freed cancelled his flight and teleported before he hit the ground, momentum was carried, and he would be at the very least winded beyond use. For now, all Freed could do was watch and help in any way he could from outside using his runes.

Although he couldn't make out their words, Freed could guess that she was threatening him. He slowly put his hands up and walked towards her, his face somehow restraining what was obviously fear. The vigilante kept in line with the two, watching as she rested the knife against Laxus' chest.

They walked slowly to the large balcony of the suite, which allowed Freed the ability to get closer and intervene if needed. But he needed to be careful, if he flew in now there was a chance that Angel would force the knife into Laxus' chest, either out of panic or out of spite. He flew a little closer, keeping himself low enough so that neither would be able to see. Although his own sight was hindered, he could at least hear what they were saying now.

"So," Angel spoke with a sickly-sweet tone. "Now I don't want to explain why there's blood all over my apartment, dear stud of a reporter. It would be much easier if you just, well… suicide is so common now, maybe we can pretend you're another statistic."

"You think I'm gonna make this easier for you, bitch?" Laxus spat, and Freed felt his jaw clench. Why did he have to make things hard for himself?

"Now Mr Dreyar, I wouldn't annoy me if I were you. You've such a handsome face, I wouldn't want to mess it up myself," Angels threat was obvious, and Freed could just about see her dragging the knife across his cheek. "And, look at it this way. You might land on a balcony and just get mangled and live. If I use my toy, that won't happen."

'Okay.' Freed thought to himself. 'This could be worse.'

"I hope you don't mind, I'll be telling the reporter you broke down crying and confessed to being washed up and an alcoholic," Angel continued. "Up on the edge. Now."

Although Freed couldn't be sure of what was going through Laxus' mind, he knew the man would be scared. He calmed his own breathing and closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of Laxus climbing onto the edge of the building. He was about two feet to the left of Freed, which was good. Slowly, trying not to scare the man, he flew directly to where Laxus was standing, still keeping out of sight of Angel as he hovered in place.

Laxus was looking down, slightly unsteady because of the wind. The moment he saw Freed, it was obvious a look of relief filled him entirely. Freed offered him a small smile that he hoped would comfort the man, before forcing eye contact between them both.

"I will save you," He mouthed clearly, words sincere. "I promise."

Laxus managed a small, weary nod. At the same moment, Angel seemed to be getting impatient and slammed her hands into the small of his back in a vicious push. Laxus lost his footing and stumbled forward, over the edge of the building and towards the ground below. The speed of the action shocked Freed, and he quickly watched as the man flew past him.

Freed dove down, managing to move faster than the falling figure of his friend. He managed to wrap his arms around the blonde's. He had to fall alongside him for a short while before he could start to carry him back and start flying how he normally would.

The blonde was shaking, Freed had never seen him so vulnerable.

He placed him on one of the vacant hotel balconies, making sure he was safely sitting. It took a few moments before Laxus could open his eyes and when he was sure that he wasn't falling, he offered Freed a weak smile. The vigilante returned it, placing a comforting hand on the man's shoulder and casting a calming spell on him.

"I'll be back in a moment," He said, using the same runes to change his voice that he had used before, only speaking softer. "I'll help you down, I just need to deal with her, first."

After Laxus gave him a small nod, Freed flew up from the balcony and back up towards the penthouse. Angel had looked over the edge of the balcony, assuredly because she hadn't heard a crashing sound, and Freed got great amounts of satisfaction at seeing her eyes widen as he slowly, threateningly raised himself so that he was eye level with the witch of a woman. His wings were spread wide, his hair rising as power coursed through it, and for the first time he felt himself fighting off his demonic form rather him calling it fourth.

This was the most angry he had been as a vigilante.

"Agony," He casted, the words forming on her stomach in the runic language he had grown to control. She doubled over, clutching at the words causing her pain. "Look at me," He demanded, Angel ignoring her. "Look at me!" He roared.

The woman slowly looked towards Freed, the pain evident in her eyes. He had no sympathy for her; not only had she tried to kill the man Freed care for more than most, her enthusiasm to become part of her families business told her she had no morals. If she wasn't willing to show mercy to others, she shouldn't expect it given to her.

"Tell your stupid little family, and whatever little minions you manage to brainwash, that man is protected," He demanded. "And his protection has more power than your darkest thoughts could imagine."

He turned his back on the woman and flew back down towards Laxus, knowing that the spell would wear off eventually. If his treatment of Racer and his men hadn't been enough to ward them off hurting Laxus, leaving her in pain for around an hour or so would make it clear that he was one of few people that were off limits.

Landing on the balcony, he felt his anger dissipating. He cancelled the spell that he had placed on Laxus, knowing that he had already calmed down to a degree where he wouldn't be hysterical. He wasn't shaking any more, and just seemed to be looking at his hands.

"Sorry for leaving you here," He apologised, his warped voice sounding odd when speaking so calmly. "So, Mr Dreyar, are you going to become my first regular customer."

"You got a problem with that," Laxus grinned a little. Freed assumed he was performing. "Thought I was a pretty good victim."

"I never said anything on the contrary. You make a very good damsel in distress," He made sure to put emphasis on the damsel part, knowing it would annoy his colleague. "Although I would rather you just be a damsel, as I'd rather you not keep having to remove you from the distress."

"Ain't a damsel," Laxus protested, pouting slightly. Freed laughed at this, and Laxus joined in. "Sorry for putting you out of the way."

"It was no bother," Freed sighed, sitting on the chair opposite Laxus. "You know that family is dangerous. Why keep putting yourself in situations like this?"

"No fucker else will. If we go to the police, they'll say I'm talking out of my ass. If I can get a confession, all the shit they're doing might stop," Laxus sighed slightly, leaning back in his chair. "Or at least it'll make them pay attention."

Freed thought for a moment. Both his vigilante persona and his actual self could see the logic in this, and knowing Laxus as well as he did, he knew that Laxus would cling to that logic until he either got a confession that couldn't be denied, or he died trying. Something that was becoming more and more likely the more he dealt with the Oración Seis. And, given the distance that was forming between Freed and Laxus, it was possible that Freed might not know the next time Laxus would get himself held at gunpoint.

"What exactly do you need from them?" He asked, though knew the answer.

"Footage of them confessing to doing all the illegal shit. Weapons trading, drug trafficking and pretty much everything you can think of. Need to make sure people know it's them without a doubt, and then I'll leave 'em alone."

"I'll get it for you," Freed said, voice stern. Laxus looked up, face shocked and confused. "Give me two weeks, I'll get an irrefutable confession, I'll get it to you. My condition, don't put yourself in danger until at least the two weeks are over."

"Seriously?" Laxus asked, voice shocked. Freed nodded. "Yeah, sure. You think you can do that?"

"What good am I if I can't stop the villains of this city?"

They both laughed with each other, and Freed couldn't help but be reminded how this easy conversation was lacking normally. He could no longer talk to Laxus in this way when he wasn't adorning his costume, and that left a small amount of dull hollowness. He half hoped that a reminder of what he was missing would give him the kick to bring their friendship back to what it had once been. But he knew it wouldn't happen.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a light turned on. The light of the room that was connected to the balcony they were sitting on. He had forgotten that someone would actually be sleeping in that room and, by the look of Laxus' face, he had forgotten also.

"We should probably leave," Laxus chuckled, eyeing the curtained doors. "You can take me down, right."

"Of course," Freed said with a small smirk, before lifting Laxus up bridal style. Laxus gave him a half glare as the wings spouted from his back. "What, how else do you expect a hero to lift his damsel in distress to safety."

"Bastard."

Freed watched as Laxus laughed in his arms, and he slowly started to move his wings to bring them into the air. Bringing him down was a pretty smooth process, he had gotten a lot of practice doing the same thing while attending to the victims of the fire at Blue Pegasus hotel. It took less than a minute to bring Laxus back down to the ground, which was enough time to allow him to come to a conclusion that he was certain of.

He missed Laxus' company. A lot.

-~~~-

Thursday August 15th, 2019, Late Afternoon.

A loud groan left Laxus' lips as he leant back in his desk chair, running a hand over his face.

He was exhausted, brain hardly functioning as he looked at the monitor before him, which seemed to be more a blurry mass of black and white rather than a page of text that he had just written. He had been in work nearly an hour before his shift and started and should have left over two hours ago. But, despite the voice telling him to go home and relax for the night, he was still sat at his office as the sun started to fall.

It had nearly been two weeks since he had been saved by the Vigilante for the second time, and the man had promised to get evidence against the Oración Seis that would finish his story. When he had returned home that night, he found himself questioning why he had happily given such an important task to a stranger, but there was a level of trust he had for the man that he couldn't explain.

Maybe because he had saved Laxus' life twice.

But as the days had passed after the deal had been struck, Laxus had heard nothing. He felt useless, depending on someone he hardly knew to do something so important. He was going to keep to his side of the deal and leave the Oración Seis, and instead had put his focus onto finishing a pile of fluff stories that he had been putting off. That was why he had been doing so much overtime work, so if the Vigilante couldn't end up getting the evidence, Laxus would have enough stories to publish immediately so he could make up for lost time in his investigation.

Also, because, every time he was left to his thoughts, he found himself feeling nauseous at the idea he might have missed his chance entirely with Freed and ruined their friendship.

What the hell had he been thinking? It wasn't as if he had drunk to the point where he had lost all sense, so why had he thought trying to kiss Freed was a good idea. Their friendship had been solid, and one of the better things in Laxus' life, and although he had some kind of feelings for the other man, he wouldn't be heartbroken if they never started to date. But now, not only was that seemingly off the cards, but also their friendship had been damaged to the point where they couldn't act normal around each other.

It was bullshit. As was the fact he was acting like an angsty fucking teenager.

For god's sake, less than a month ago he had nearly fallen to his death and yet his mind was always occupied by Freed; was he so co-dependant? No, that wasn't it. But he and Freed had instantly clicked when they had met and, after their partnership had started, they had been there for each other indefinitely. And now, they felt just like colleagues. It was shit, but Laxus knew he couldn't complain unless he tried to fix the situations.

But what was he meant to do? Laxus couldn't talk to people, he's always been socially shit. And whenever a friendship had been damaged before, he hadn't cared enough to fix it. But he couldn't imagine living without Freed, so something needed to happen. Maybe he was hoping Freed would take the first step, but he was just as stubborn as Laxus.

So for now, he would just distract himself by diving into work.

He lifted his mug of coffee to his lips and drained it, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes at the monitor, hoping that the blurriness of his eyes would lessen slightly. It half worked, at least he could half read what was written, which was all he needed to finish this story and end his work for the night.

Minimising the text document, he opened his email and started to scroll through his imbox. Freed had finished working on the image for his story, so Laxus thought that, if nothing else, he should format the file before leaving.

After he found the email containing the image needed, he leant against his hand and allowed a yawn to split apart his lips. This was probably the latest he had worked since becoming part of the Raijinshuu and sitting alone in the office for such a long time was starting to weigh on him. Still, if the Vigilante didn't manage to get a confession from the family, he needed all the time he could to work on them again. More so now, considering the family would definitely know him now, so regular confession baiting couldn't be done anymore.

That's what he kept telling himself as he sat back, pulled out his phone and opened his music app, fully intending to procrastinate.

This continued for a short while, as Laxus fell into the trap of mindlessly browsing through all his social media, until Laxus' computer monitor lit up alongside the sound of his email chime coming from the speaker. He leant forward, knowing that only his team and bosses would email his work address, and that never happened at such a late time. So, whoever was emailing him, probably had something urgent to say.

After scrolling to the top of his inbox, he sat up straight. The sender's address was simply 'UnregisteredA' and it was accompanied with the subject line: Needed Evidence.

It was pretty obvious that the email was from the Vigilante, but he still couldn't trust the stranger entirely. He opened it to see that it only contained a video file alongside the short message of “I’m sure that this will be enough for your story. V”. Assuming the V stood for vigilante, Laxus felt a small bubble of excitement from in his stomach as he brought his mouse to the video filed and started to play it.

The video was a little shaky and seemed to be from some kind of bodycam. In the middle of the image was Midnight, Cobra and Racer; three unmistakable members of the Oración Seis, the most recognisable members too. Holy shit, if there was anything close to a confession on this, they wouldn't be able to deny it at all.

Looking at the greater picture of the video, Laxus felt himself getting more excited. They were in a warehouse, surrounded by large crates and containers. The family members hadn't yet noticed the Vigilante yet, and they had just opened one of the many crates that surrounded them. When Cobra pulled out the contents of the crate, Laxus was gifted an unhindered view of a weapon. A gun that was no where near being legal, and now Laxus had footage of the most famous member of the family inspecting it like an expert.

"You sure we can't jack up the price?" Racer asks, and Laxus felt his grin getting wider. "Feel like we could get more."

"I agree," Midnight continued, also picking up a gun. "We have a good product; we deserve a good price."

"Neither of you know what the hell you're talking about," Cobra hissed slightly, placing the gun back into the crate. "Our clients are volatile, we discussed a price and we will stick to it. Besides, if we become civil then this can become a more regular deal. That's when we start getting the price we need."

Laxus leant back in his chair, laughing slightly at the footage before him. In the act. The vigilante had just given him a recording of them in the fucking act! There was no way in hell that they could deny their actions once this went public; discussing business deals, holding the weapons, talking about how this wasn't an individual event. All he needed to do was publish this and their crappy little business was going to fall and crumble.

The blonde continued watching the footage, and grinned as he saw all three criminals turn when the Vigilante made his presence knows. They all looked at the camera with wide eyes, and damn Laxus wanted to make it the background of his computer.

A moment later, all three men had picked up guns and were aiming at the Vigilante. From the odd camera angle, Laxus could make out the Vigilante raising his hand and forming a barrier made out of the same energy that had captured the men when they first met. He Vigilante stormed forward towards the three criminals, and Laxus saw that both of his hands had turned into the demonic form as he got closer. It was then that the camera cut off.

As much as Laxus would have wanted to see the vigilante beat the shit out of the bastards – because he really did – he was still elated with the results. This was perfect.

He leant forward and quickly opened the reply window to the email, unable to stop his face splitting gin. He knew that it wasn't likely that the Vigilante would reply to anything he sent, but the brilliance of the evidence he had gotten deserved at least a thank you.

To: UnregisteredA

Holy shit man, this is brilliant. There's no way these assholes are gonna be able to get out of it once I publish it. Thank you so much.

He watched the footage a few more times, revelling in it. He and his team had spent months trying to get enough on these bastards to bring them down, and now he had it. Gift wrapped by the hero that had saved him, no less. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins and he had to fight the temptation to work on integrating the footage into the main story immediately. But he couldn't, as incriminating the evidence was, he still needed to get this right or his professionalism might be called into question.

The Raijinshuu would work in it tomorrow. Fuck, it had been so long since they had been in this position, taking down someone so large. The buzz that'd be in the office in the morning, the determination they would all share, the expression that would paint itself onto Freed's face when he found out. It was all making Laxus' stomach flip in anticipation.

Just as he felt his mood drop slightly at the last though, his email chime rang out again.

From: UnregisteredA

It was my pleasure. I apologise for the footage cutting off so suddenly, I only just realised the extent of what they were doing and I let my anger get the better of me. The camera broke half way through the fight.

Laxus grinned, looking at the email with a slightly disbelieving expression. Not only had the guy given him the smoking gun to the story, but he had also replied to his email in a somewhat conversational way. The blonde knew that this was something that couldn't happen all the time; to have the email of a vigilante at all was unheard of, but to catch the most famous vigilante in recent history in a conversational mood was something he couldn't waste.

To: UnregisteredA

Don't apologise, I got what I needed. You must have gotten pretty into it for the camera to break though.

The reply was almost instant.

From: UnregisteredA

You must remember that I have the ability to transform parts of my body into a demonic form. For the first time, I fully transformed my entire body. The camera was thrown to the floor and smashed, though the footage obviously was intact.

To: UnregisteredA

So you can go full demon? That's pretty badass. Wish I could have seen you beat the hell out of them. Thanks for the footage though. Maybe you can show me your demon side next time you need to save me.

Laxus types with a smile, absently noting that having a conversation with the vigilante had the same easy, free-flowing feeling that he felt when he talked with Freed. Well, at least before the awkwardness of the kiss that had almost happened between them. Now, whenever they spoke, it was always forced and seemed to Laxus as if they were doing it out of obligation. He missed being able to speak to his friends like this, there was something calming about it.

From: UnregisteredA

I'd rather you not get involved in criminals at all. But I suppose, if I had to save you, I could show off a little. For such a pretty damsel.

Laxus rolled his eyes, though felt a smirk roll onto his features. The taunting cocky attitude reminded him of two things. One, why he first found the guy to be hot in the first place. And two, Freed. He tried to focus on the former point, because thinking about Freed would remind him how messed up their relationship had become as of late. He needed to distract himself from that, and right now he had a perfect way to do it.

To: UnregisteredA

I'm honoured and insulted. Demon you better be worth it.

To: UnregisteredA

So, I know it's a little odd to ask, given how we met, and we've only actually seen each other twice, but d'you mind if we keep talking? Been going through a little shit and you remind me of a guy who I kinda fucked up with. A distraction would be nice.

The moment he pressed sent in his second email, he felt nauseous. He probably shouldn't have half-vented his feelings about Freed to a guy who he barely knew, and then openly admit he wanted to form a relationship with the vigilante simply as a distraction, but he was desperate. He missed speaking to Freed like this and found himself craving it, and although it wasn't exactly the same as it was with Freed, this was a close second.

He was just about to log off and forget his stupid suggestion, when his email tone went off again. He looked down and found himself smiling at the response he had gotten.

From: UnregisteredA

That would be nice. A distraction would be good for me too.

-~~~-

Saturday September 7th, 2019, Early Evening.

"Incoming call from Laxus: Persona."

The female voice of his earpiece spoke robotically into his ear, informing him that Laxus had called him; or, more accurately, he had called his vigilante persona. It was becoming a regular occurrence and as Freed raised his hand to his ear and activated his voice changing runes, he felt a small smile paint itself onto his face.

After speaking with Laxus through email for about a week, the blonde had asked for the Vigilante's phone number. Freed hadn't replied immediately, knowing Laxus would recognise his actual phone number immediately but also not wanting to risk stopping his new form of communication with Laxus. He had pulled out his old phone that he had yet to dispose of, brought a cheap contract that gave him unlimited calls, and given that number to Laxus. He transferred all calls from Laxus into his normal phone and could now take any calls from the blonde while on patrol. Balancing himself on the edge of the building he stood on, he took the call.

"Mr Dreyar," He spoke in his demonic tone. "A pleasure to hear your voice again."

He heard a small laugh come through his ear as he looked down the alleyways under him. He had heard through his police radio hack that drug dealers had been frequenting this backstreet, and that they were dealing exclusively with a drug that the police called Spitfire. He hadn't been able to fully understand how bad this drug was, but they were treating it with the same gravitas as Crack, so he would try and stop the dealers whenever possible.

"Nice to hear your echoed bullshit voice," Laxus chuckled, and Freed felt his smile grow. "You ever gonna let me know anything about you?"

Freed let out a small laugh; Laxus had asked a pretty loaded question without realising it. "Maybe one day."

He watched with narrowed eyes as a young man came down the alleyway and rested against the streetlamp placed there. He was wearing a baseball cap and a large coat despite the pretty warm weather, so it was a pretty good guess that he was the drug dealer the police wanted. He would keep watch for now, not wanting to act before he could be sure.

"Look forward to that day," Laxus' voice was slightly tinny through his earpiece. "You on patrol?"

"Of course," Freed nodded, despite being on a call with the man. He would only answer the phone in his vigilante persona when on patrol, just in case Laxus decided to make him his next story and wanted to track his phone. "And you?"

"At home," Laxus said, and Freed thought he heard a yawn somewhere between the words. "Just had a pizza. Highlight of my day."

Frowning a little, Freed looked up from the potential drug dealer. Laxus wasn't one to be openly forlorn, but his relationship with Freed's vigilante self allowed Laxus to be more open about how he was feeling. He suspected that, as they didn't exactly know each other personally, Laxus felt as though he could be open about his feelings as they weren't close enough for repercussions to happen. If Laxus didn't have to face his emotions directly, then he forget that he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable.

Still, the two men had been working in the office throughout the day. They had already released the Oración Seis story over two weeks ago and had been dealing with interview requests from other media outlets since. The media frenzy was dying down, meaning they had been given time to catch up on their normal work.

But the issue that made Freed pause was that Laxus hadn't shown any negativity while he worked.

In fact, he still seemed to be riding off the high of his report. The Oración Seis had been pretty much obliterated, as were their clients, and the police were investigating pretty much everything the family had done in the last ten years. The Raijinshuu had been given a large amount of credit for shining a light onto this issue, the video that Freed had taken had gone viral, and all four of them had gained a pretty big career boost. Laxus seemed to enjoy everything that had happened, so to hear him acting like he was concerned Freed.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, looking back down to the alleyway. "You usually sound as joyful as a kid in a candy store."

"Asshole," Laxus chuckled a little at the sarcasm. "And I don't know. Just feel a little crap right now?"

"Did something happen?" Freed found himself asking before he could stop himself.

"Nothing big or anything, just kind of a rough day at work?"

Freed frowned, either Laxus was lying or he was considerably better at hiding his emotions that Freed had given him credit for. He tried to shake off the feeling that he had missed something bothering Laxus by glaring down at the alleyway again, watching as someone also covered completely walked down. Perhaps focusing on the potential drug dealing would make him feel less responsible for Laxus' mood.

This was something that immediately was disproven when the newcomer to the alley walked straight past the supposed drug dealer and to the other side of the building. So there went the distraction then.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered, keeping his eyes down.

"You some kind of therapist now?" Laxus joked slightly.

"How do you know that isn't what I do as a day job?" Freed retorted with a grin.

"Good point," Laxus sounded as though he was smiling as he spoke. "It wasn't like anything bad happened, not really. It's just, I don't know… you know when we started emailing and I said I needed to distract myself from something. I'm starting to think that maybe I shouldn't have stayed distracted for so long, 'cause it ain't fun."

"I thought you enjoyed your work."

Freed knew that his statement was weak and unhelpful, but he felt a certain level of guilt. Assuming he was right in his guess Laxus wanted a distraction from the deterioration of their relationship, it felt as though he was spying on his friend.

"It ain't the job," Laxus seemed to sigh. "The guy who sits across from me, basically my partner. I've kinda wanted, I don't know, just something to happen with him. And it nearly did, and then it didn't, and we haven't been talked about it since it nearly happened. And that just feels shit."

The tone in which Laxus was speaking told Freed that this was something that he had wanted to get off his chest for quite some time, and Freed couldn't say he didn't feel the same way.

"And the worse thing is, it just feels weird around him now," Laxus continued. "Like, I used to be closer to him than anyone else, and now it feels like we have to avoid talking about anything serious just in case we start talking about the time I nearly kissed the fucker. So it's just, one stupid misjudged thing I did when I was kinda drunk and I pushed him away. And now it's gone on for so fucking long that it'll be more awkward if we do talk about it now. And it just hit me today how shit it all feels."

"What happened today?"

He wasn't proud of himself for asking, but Freed couldn't help himself. Although he missed the easy conversation that occurred between him and Laxus, he also had felt the absence of their serious conversations. He had never been altogether confident in his emotions, and Freed had often had to help him when he was vulnerable.

The issue now was that Laxus was vulnerable because of him. He could either help him without Laxus knowing it was him or leave him in the state of emotional hell. It was the sadness in Laxus' voice that made Freed's choice for him.

"I just looked at him and though, holy shit," Laxus confessed. "He was just so… fucking perfect. Like, a guy can be handsome or hot or whatever, and you can appreciate it then move on. Like, I know you're pretty good looking, but knowing that isn't gonna change my life. But with him, when I was looking at him, he just personified everything. He was handsome, sexy, beautiful, soft, rugged, intimidating and inviting and fucking everything. It's like, I had the gold standard of men and I fucked it up."

"You can't be sure of that," Freed spoke softly. "Maybe the reason he hasn't addressed the issue is the same reason you haven't. Maybe he just doesn't know how."

"Well, the bastards just as stubborn as me. Pretty big achievement," Laxus laughed, and Freed found himself joining in on it. "But in that moment, I just wanted to scream that we need to cut the bullshit, we should be together. You ever felt like that?"

"Yes," Freed admitted, blushing slightly. Even if he only said one word, it was the first time he had outwardly admitted his feelings for the blonde. "I guess I do."

"You got any ideas on what the hell we should do about it?" Laxus asked, and Freed almost laughed at just how appropriate the use of the word 'we' was in the situation. He didn't laugh though, instead he ran a hand through his hair as he sat back on the top of the roof.

"We should do what men like us should always do, I suppose," Freed sighed. "Get over our damn selves and follow our instincts."

"Yeah," Laxus said, and Freed could guess he nodded slightly. "Yeah, I think I might have needed to hear someone tell me that. Thanks. You don't mind if leave ya right now, do ya? I'm gonna go, do it now before I lose the balls. Thanks man."

The line went dead before Freed could reply, and a swirl of emotions filled the vigilante's stomach. The main question attacking his mind was if he had the right to give any suggestions to Laxus, but he had tried to be as ambiguous in his advice as he could. He didn't directly say for Laxus to ask him out – if that was what he was going to do – as he had just said for the man to follow his instincts. And he hadn't lead him to that conclusion, all he did was ask the questions that would allow Laxus to get his troubles off his mind.

And what was he meant to do? Laxus was a closed book, and if Freed hadn't shown him sympathy and a listening ear in that moment, the blonde would have closed up even more than normal. He was clearly hurting, so cutting himself off from his emotions entirely would be the worse thing to do.

'Shit.' Freed thought as he looked down. The dealer was gone.

"Incoming call from Laxus Dreyar."

The sudden voice in his ear informing him that Laxus was calling him, rather than his vigilante persona, made Freed jolt where he sat. As he dispelled the runes on his arm that changed his voice, he realised that they hadn't called each other since before their almost kiss. It wasn't like it was a regular occurrence before, but he found himself engulfed in a comforting sense of familiarity at the fact it was happening again.

"Laxus," He greeted in his actual voice after accepting the call. "Is something wrong."

"No," Laxus said. "Well, yeah actually. I'm sick of avoiding it. We nearly kissed, it happened. And honestly, I want to kiss you. A hell of a lot. And every fucking time I see you, there's something that screams at me to kiss you. I wish I had that night, I wish I had the day after, and I've been wishing I had ever since. And that's it.

"So, I know we've got this party to celebrate the article, and I know you ain't a big party guy, but if you want then maybe we can go together. If you don't want to, then obviously that's fine, but I'd really fucking love it you could be my date. So, yeah. Balls in your court now."

Freed paused, unable to stop himself from smiling. He had always suspected Laxus was putting on a slight act with his vigilante self, like he was showing his better side. But this was the true Laxus: a slightly socially awkward man that, although he might not be the most in tune with his emotions, he had the courage to stick to his convictions and put himself out there no matter the risk it had to him. This was the man he had fallen for.

"It would be my honour," Freed replied.

As Laxus fumbled through an expression of gratitude accompanied with a lot of unneeded profanity – something that made Freed wish this was happening face to face, as Laxus would be incredibly endearing to look at – the vigilante made a promise to himself. He'd been lying to the blonde for too long. If they were to have a relationship, Laxus needed to know who he was.

On the night of their date, he would have to reveal himself as Magnolia's vigilante.

-~~~-

Friday September 13th, 2019, Early Evening.

"Hey, sorry I'm a little late. There was a little- holy shit."

Laxus was standing at Freed's door as he cut himself off, resisting the urge to let his mouth fall agape. Looking up at Freed, he felt his breath hitch and his heart swell. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, his hair tied low in a style that Laxus had never seen, and his face blessed with the softest of smiles as he looked up towards Laxus. The blonde found himself unable to point out a single flaw on the man before him, not that he was going to try to.

He must have been quiet for too long, because Freed raised an eyebrow and his smile took on an amused quality. Laxus felt himself blushing slightly as he shook his head, trying to remove himself from the trance that Freed had put him in.

"Sorry. You look great, that's all," He mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Freed's cheek. Only after did he realise what he had done, and blushed again. "Sorry, you don't mind do you?"

"No, it was good," Freed smiled, Laxus' hear swelling. "And you look good too."

"Thanks," Laxus smiled.

He found it hard to believe that he looked good when compared to the man before him. Laxus himself was also dressed in a suit, white with golden trimmings and a black shirt beneath it. He knew he looked good in his formal attire, but Freed seemed like he belonged in the clothes he wore, and damn did he look good. The blonde now kicked himself for missing all the company dinners that Freed had attended, as each dinner would have given Laxus the chance to see Freed looking as handsome as he was in that moment.

Though, Laxus suspected Freed would look good in anything he wore.

The photographer stepped from the threshold of his apartment and locked the door behind him. Laxus smiled as they walked down the hallways of Freed's building and towards the elevator. They didn't hold hands, nor did they link arms, but the occasional brushings of elbows and knuckles was enough to make Laxus giddy.

After he had taken the leap and asked Freed onto this date, with help from the Vigilante, it seemed as though his relationship with Freed had become something more normal again. They could speak together with ease, were happy to go on assignments together whereas before they would have been somewhat hesitant, and Laxus found himself enjoying his work a hell of a lot more than he when they had been awkward around each other. The only difference was an added subtle flirtation between them; something that didn't go missed by Bickslow and Evergreen.

Bickslow hadn't been subtle with his 'at last' attitude when they had confessed that they would be going to the party as each other's date.

As they entered the elevator, Laxus found himself amused by his own awkwardness. The odd flirtatious comment or teasing had been easy during their work hours, but now they were faced with the actual date he was acting clumsy around Freed. It was fine to be nervous about this though, it meant he was taking their date seriously.

"Did you manage to talk your grandfather out of making you give a speech?" Freed asked, making Laxus groan.

"He said he wouldn't," The blonde spoke with a small pout. "But he had this fucking look on his face. Think he's just gonna make me do it anyway and told me he wouldn't so I wont plan it out and I'll make an ass outta myself."

"He wouldn't do that," At Freed's words, Laxus looked towards him with a raised eyebrow. He still looked beautiful. "Point taken. If he does, we'll just dig up some blackmail on him."

Laxus grinned, biting his tongue slightly as he fought the temptation to explain that the mischievous side of the photographer was one of the things he loved about the man. As socially awkward as he may be, even he knew that the word love shouldn't be said on the first date; not even if it was contained to a single attribute of the man. Or, more specifically, multiple attributes of the man that covered pretty much everything about him.

So avoiding the subject of love was for the best.

A soft, easy atmosphere now forming around them both, they left the apartment building and walked towards the limousine that had been organised for them both; the Raijinshuu were the guests of honour, after all. The car was meant for all four of the team, but Ever and Bickslow had sacrificed their seats so that Freed and Laxus could spend some of their night alone.

As they walked to the car, Laxus found his mind wonder slightly to the Vigilante. He couldn't be sure if this date would even be happening if the man hadn't told him to stop putting the conversation off.

It was odd. The moment he had asked Freed on the date, he not only felt a sense of relief from finally talking his relationship further with Freed, he also seemed to lack the sense of dependence of the vigilante that he had grown accustomed to. The phone calls that, at that point, had occurred at least every other day now didn't happen, and the last time he had contacted the Vigilante was because he wanted to thank the man a final time. That had happened over a week ago.

Somehow, it felt as though the vigilante was some kind of imaginary friend. Now that he had finished with his issues with Freed, he didn't need the vigilante anymore.

"You okay?" Laxus looked up at Freed's voice, seeing the photographer holding open the car door.

"Yeah, sorry. Lost in thought," He sent an appeasing grin to the man as he closed the distance between them both, climbing into the vehicle as Freed held the door for him. When Freed sat beside him, the blonde smirked. "So you're gonna be a gentleman tonight, then?"

"Somebody has to be," Freed smirked. "And I can't imagine a ruffian such as yourself being able to step up in that regard."

As Laxus opened his mouth to retort the obvious teasing, he felt his right hand be lifted up slightly by his date and soft cold lips press themselves against his knuckled. The blonde paused where he sat, slowly looking down to see the eyes of his date that were somehow both angelic and demonic at the same time.

The feeling of Freed's lips against his skin had sent a shiver around Laxus' body, and Freed clearly knew it. he was just glad that the teasing expression on the photographer's face became nothing more, because hearing a joke at his expense from his date may shut him down entirely.

Driving to the company building where the party was happening didn't take long, or at least it didn't seem like a long time as once the conversation started up again it didn't stop. Laxus found himself incredibly glad that he could be like this with Freed again, his distraction in the Vigilante having made him forgot just how much a hole had been created when Freed wasn't fully in his life. Being able to enjoy the man's company so openly, it was perfect, and the idea that they could become more intimate without losing that friendship sent electricity through Laxus' body. It was a thrilling possibility, and one Laxus was determined to make real.

When they arrived outside of the office, Laxus made sure to get out of the car first and hold the door open for Freed. The photographer may have been joking before, but Laxus would be damned if he let the man think he was right. Freed simply chuckled and smiled at his actions.

"The perfect gentleman," He assured Laxus, who smirked at the idiocy of his actions and the fact that Freed was willing to play along.

Entering the building, they saw that the desks of the ground floor had been removed and replaced to make the room look as though it was a ballroom. Given that it had been a fully functioning news room earlier in the day, the change was shocking and impressive. Laxus and Freed both walked in side by side, the soft music of the jazz band setting a pleasant atmosphere as they looked around their colleagues.

Some people acknowledged them, some people congratulated them on their article and the effect it was having, and some people didn't notice them. In Laxus' mind, this was a victory. He would much rather have this kind of reception than some cringe inducing applause as they came in; and he suspected Freed felt the same way.

"Thank you asking me to come here," Freed spoke almost softly. "I know I would have been here anyway, but it feels better being here with you, rather than just alongside you. If truth be told, I missed you. And I'm glad we're trying this."

Laxus felt his heart swell slightly at the confession. "I'm glad too."

With a small burst of courage given to him by Freed's words, Laxus leant down slightly and pressed his lips against Freed's. It was a split-second kiss, chaste and innocent, but it sent a flurry of passion throughout the blonde's body that made him crave for more. Despite it being a cliché, he felt like he had been struck like lighting in the few short moments their lips had touched.

When he pulled back, both he and Freed were blushing. It was subtle, but the redness of the other mans cheeks made Laxus smile softly. He could only hope that he was see that slightly dazed expression on Freed's face again after being the cause of it.

"Wow," Laxus whispered, smiling. "Pretty fucking good."

"Yeah," Freed agreed, also smiling. "We should make a habit of doing that."

Laxus laughed, nodding slightly as he stood up straight again. He found his eyes couldn't leave Freed as they both calmed slightly, standing in the middle of the room. Freed must have got control over his blush before Laxus could – the blonde could still feel his cheeks burning – and he let out a small laugh.

"I'll get us some drinks," Freed offered, Laxus nodding. As Freed walked Laxus, he placed a hand on his arm and Laxus' skin tingled despite the two layers of clothing. He frowned slightly as Freed spoke again. "Good luck."

The blonde frowned at Freed's words, and pivoted so he could look to whatever Freed was speaking of. He let out a slightly defeated laugh as he saw exactly what Freed was wishing him luck over; Mirajane was walking towards him with quite possibly the largest smile on her face humanly possible. She was known to be a pretty big gossip and, as they hadn't been secretive about their kiss, it was obvious that Mirajane had seen it and had a lot of questions. And Freed had left Laxus to her mercy bastard.

He would have done the same thing, though. The guy was perfect for him.

The moment Mirajane had closed the distance between them both, the questions started to come. When had it happened? Was this a date? Was this their first date? Had they secretly been together for years and was that why Freed had denied her offers to set them up? Laxus would have to ask Freed about that last one later, but he couldn't do it when the barrage of questions continued. How she managed to speak so much without losing her breath astounded Laxus.

Although he tried to answer as many questions as he could, it was hard to remember all he had asked. Still, she seemed too preoccupied by the fact that he and Freed were on a date to care all that much that he had missed out some of her questions.

As she calmed herself slightly, Laxus allowed his gaze to drift slightly. Freed had picked up two glasses of what Laxus assumed was champagne and was waiting by bar by himself. At first Laxus assumed he was waiting there just so he could avoid the force of nature and her endless questioning, but he could see that Freed's smile had slipped slightly and he looked almost panicked. Well, as panicked as a man so in control of his emotions could be. He excused himself form Mirajane before she could say anything and walked towards his date with a small expression of concern on his face.

"You okay?" He asked, Freed's head snapping up to him. "You look a little… on edge."

"I'm fine," He said, voice wavering slightly. That concerned Laxus. "Sorry, do you mind if we go to the office for a moment, I need to talk to you about something."

Laxus frowned, but nodded, and they both made their way to the staircase. The short walk to their private office filled Laxus with apprehension as to what had happened in the few moments that would make the usually unwavering man suddenly calm up and ask to speak in private. His immediate reaction was that maybe Freed had realised after the kiss that he didn't want anything romantic with him, and even though it was an unconfirmed thought it still hurt like a bitch.

When they entered the office, Freed pulled his desk chair out so that it was next to Laxus' desk, a silent invitation for the blonde to sit. The blonde did so, speaking before he could give Freed the chance to beat him to it.

"This isn't… you ain't gonna tell me you regret coming as my date, right?" Laxus asked, willing his voice not to break. Freed's head snapped up again, and he seemed shocked at the suggestion.

"No. Go no. Being here with you, its wonderful. In fact, it's practically the opposite," Freed assured Laxus, and the blonde felt his anxiety drop considerably. "When we kissed, it made me aware of how much I want something with you, and that I'd happily be with you for as long as possible. But if that's going to happen, I need to be honest with you in a way that I haven't been for a long time now."

Laxus didn't restrain his frown. Although to hear that Freed wanted to have an actual relationship with him was fantastic – it really was – the idea that Freed had been lying to him made him nervous. He couldn't think of anything his photographer could have bene lying about, certainly not something that would be so important that Freed would feel the need to confess it before he could have any kind of romance with him. The lack of knowing gave Laxus a sense of dread in his stomach, and he silently motioned for his date to continue, not yet trusting his voice.

"I'm not quite sure how to say it, so I think I'll just show you," When Freed spoke, his voice was almost cautious.

The photographer slowly removed his blazer and placed it on the back of his chair, then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his left forearm. Although Laxus wanted to voice his confusion – there was nothing irregular about the part of his body he was showing – he trusted that this was something important enough for Freed to take seriously, so he kept his mouth shut.

Without either man speaking, glowing purple shapes appeared on Freed's skin. They were the same shapes that Laxus had come to relate to the vigilante. A moment later, his arms started to mutate exactly the same way the vigilante's did, and his hand turned to the exact same claw.

What the fuck?

He looked up to see that Freed's eyes were glowing a soft purple, which died down as the transformation ended. The expression Freed wore as he looked back up to Laxus – a look of reassignment, shown through a sad smile and accepting eyes – told Laxus everything he needed to know about what he had just seen.

Freed was the vigilante.

"Shit," He whispered, his mind racing as he caught up with all that would mean.

He hadn't been saved by a stranger; he had been saved by his best friend. The night of the fire he hadn't just misremembered Freed wearing a coat exactly the same that the vigilante had, he had actually seen him adorning the man's clothing. The easy conversation that he had shared with the vigilante hadn't just reminded him of the conversations he had with Freed, they were an extension to the conversations he could have with Freed.

"It was you?" He asked, looking towards Freed.

"Yes. I'm sorry," Freed's voice was soft, almost as if he were trying not to spook Laxus. "I know I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you, certainly not after we met one another while I was acting in that form. And I feel as though I have manipulated you into asking me coming here, and I do feel guilty about that."

It was now Laxus' turn to snap his head up. He hadn't considered the fact that Freed had some kind of influence on their date becoming a reality, and even now he thought about the possibility he couldn't say that the Vigilante – or Freed – had actually manipulated him in any way. It wasn't as if he had bene probing to get to the topic of his love life, and then demanded that he asked his photographer out. All he had done was say that Laxus should follow his instincts, and Laxus instincts were his and his alone.

"You didn't manipulate me," Laxus assured him. "Just gave me the kick in the ass I needed."

"Still," Freed's voice was still hesitant. "I did interfere while you didn't know who you were-"

"Freed, I wanted to ask you out the first time we worked together. I wanted to kiss you that night, and I still do," Laxus' voice was more certain that it had been before. "I'm shocked, and it's weird. Might take some time for me to get used to it, but I will. This is still a date, and I still want to be with you."

"Are you sure?" Freed asked, and Laxus nodded with a small smile.

"Definitely," Laxus assured him, and Freed smiled.

Laxus leant over and pressed another kiss onto the photographer's lips. The fire and electricity still filled him when their lips touched, and that was enough for him to be totally sure that this secret was nothing really, and that once he had gotten used to it, it would be like nothing had happened and their date could continue. He let his hand rest on the man's cheek in a small act of endearment, letting Freed know without a single doubt that he wasn't going to hold any grudge or anger about this.

But then, as he removed his hand from the man's soft skin, a thought occurred to him, and his cheeks suddenly burned a brilliant red.

"I said you were hot. I told you I thought the vigilante was hot a couple times. And I told the vigilante that I thought you were sexy," He said, his voice showing his embarrassment in the realisation. "And all the time, I was just talking about you."

"I'm afraid so," Freed said with a slight laugh. "Quite the ego boost, I must say."

"Fuck, you didn't need that," Laxus chuckled, running an embarrassed hand over his face as a groan left his lips. He let himself laugh though and looked towards his date again. "You asshole."

"I suppose so," Freed agreed. "Are you sure you're okay, I'd understand if you felt like you needed to think."

"I don't need time to think, Freed. I've been thinking for months now, and I'm fucking bored of it. You've always been the guy for him, and having you be the guy to save my life without me knowing isn't gonna change that," Laxus assured him, a grin forming on his lips. "Besides, who the hell else is the damsel in distress gonna fall for."

When Freed laughed at Laxus' joke, the blonde found his heart flutter again. The tension in the room that had occurred between the two of them had lessened now and for that, Laxus was thankful. The sound of Freed' genuine, unstrained laugh was something he often found himself craving and, due to its rarity, it was something he would always cherish.

He leant forward and pressed his lips against Freed's for a third time, becoming quickly addicted to it. This time, he lingered for a second and allowed himself to fully enjoy the sensation of Freed's cold, un-chapped lips against his own.

"But," He whispered as he pulled back. "Tell anyone I called myself a damsel in distress, I'm getting every embarrassing thing you've ever done on the front cover."

"Noted," Freed said with a laugh. "We should get back soon, though."

They both stood up and, as Freed went to walk to the door, Laxus grabbed his hand and pulled him back. He placed both hands on the man's waist and allowed their bodies to press against each other softly, staring at his date and hero in adoration. He slowly started to lean down again, intending to pull Freed into another kiss, this time something less than chaste. Just as their lips were going to push against each other, a loud knock came from the office door.

Laxus found himself cussing under his breath. Getting cut off before a kiss better not become a regular thing.

"You two better not be intending to spent the whole night in there," The voice was undeniably from Makarov, and it contained a teasing tone. "You might not be able to keep your hands off each other, but there's a crowd out there wanting a speech from the lead author of the most read story of the year."

"Fucking knew he would do that," Laxus hissed, only slightly wanting to throttle his grandfather. "Time to make a dick out of myself, I guess."

He tried to untangle himself from Freed but found himself still pushed against his date. He looked down at Freed with a soft, questioning look, to which Freed simply smiled in response. "If you think that it's your fate to fall for me, then it's my fate to keep my love safe, wouldn't you think?"

Before Laxus could reply, Freed leant upwards and pressed their lips together. They moved slowly, showing more passion than they had in the few instances that they had kissed before. Laxus wrapped his arms around Freed's waist closer as he slowly, tentatively licked the bottom of Freed's lips in a silent request for entrance. Freed's eagerness was obvious, as the next moment their kiss became more impassioned as their tongues batted against one another.

As they kissed, Laxus felt a tingling sensation overcome his body. It was unique, and as he opened his eyes, he saw that Freed was disintegrating into the purple shapes that his magic was made form. He then saw that he was doing the same things. His hero was saving him from embarrassment, it seemed.

Yeah, dating a vigilante who happened to be the love of his life was something he could get used to. definitely.