#i will talk to you guys after i get all settled at work!! kissin your noses so delicately!! mwah <33

[yuukimiyas]

(っ´>ω<))ω<`) g’mornie loves!! thats us sharin a mornin squeeze!! <33 we made it to the midway point in the wk!! ໒꒰ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩꒱ྀི১ woo!! i gotta wash my hair & then get ready so quick!! i’ll ttyl at work!! MWAH!! <33

[voleurdesoleil-archive]

Lucky Escape

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Male Detective (Jonah Rafferty) x Adam x Nate

Word count: 2.6k

!! cW !! mentions of blood, insults and toxic relationship

read on ao3

Today could have been a peaceful day, and it was, at least until someone came in to report that their van had been stolen. At first, Jonah didn’t pay much attention to it as Douglas was doing a surprisingly good job taking the owner’s statement. The voice sounded familiar, but Jonah couldn’t place a name or a face on it, so he didn’t linger on it. That was until the man started making a scene in front of the whole station.

“Are you even listening to me!”

The guy was yelling in Douglas’ face who was throwing distressed looks at Jonah. As he rushed out of his office, the guy turned around and Jonah stopped right away.

“If it isn’t Jonah Rafferty!” The man said mockingly.

“Luke…”

“So it’s true? You’re the new sheriff in town?”

Jonah ignored the question and walked to the front desk. He glanced over the report that Douglas was filling, but didn’t see any reason for the scene Luke was making so he asked: “What’s the problem Douglas?”

The Mayor’s son opened his mouth to answer but Luke interrupted him. “The problem is that your secretary doesn’t take his job seriously!”

“Officer Friedman isn’t a secretary,” Jonah said, stressing Douglas’ function. “And for all I see, there are no mistakes in his report.” Jonah added, giving him a reassuring smile to which Douglas let out a sigh or relief.

“Of course you’re gonna defend him! Is he your little boy toy?”

A shocked silence settled on the station as the officers quickly went back to work pretending they weren’t listening when Jonah took a look around him. Jonah’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists as Luke looked all proud of himself, a smug grin settling on his face.

“If you cannot respect my officers, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave this station and start looking for your van on your own.” Jonah spoke each word clearly, trying to be as stoic as possible.

“Oh…” Luke let out, his grin growing even bigger on his face. Deciding to ignore Jonah’s warning he added: “So you’re the boy toy this time, aren’t you? Exactly like you were with that reporter! What’s his name again? Bobby something…”

“We have your report, I’ll put someone on the case.” Jonah stated trying to ignore Luke.

“Can you put that cute little chick on the case? No offense but I don’t want your deviant ass near my car -” if Jonah didn’t know him better, he could have believed Luke’s apologetic smile, until he gestured to Douglas and added: “-nor your little boy toy."

“I’ll put Officer Len on the case.”

“Oh come on Jonah! Be a sweetheart and put Poname on my case, I’ve been trying to land that ch-”

“That’s enough! Can you have some respect for the officers of this station? You don’t like me fine! I couldn’t care less! But those people did nothing to you and deserve to be treated with respect so if you can’t do that I’m gonna ask you once again to leave!”

There was a moment of silence after Jonah had finally bursted out, but the sneer that grew on Luke’s face told him he had only fueled his stupidity.

“Or else what?” He had gained everyone’s attention. “Do you want me to tell them how much of a slut you are? I know about a lot of your boyfriends, or should I call them boy toys?” He was turning the station into his own little stage on which he was strutting proudly. “I’m afraid that little reporter of yours is incapable of holding his tongue…”

Jonah knew that whatever Bobby had told Luke, it was probably lies, but nevertheless he couldn’t risk losing his colleagues’ respect. Not now. Not after he’d worked so hard to gain it.

“What do you want?” Jonah resigned.

But Luke wasn’t even listening to him. “So let’s see! There was Taylor, Lucas, Zeke, Ryan, the guy from the bookstore, the exchange student, the delivery dude, that one was very low Jonah, Simon, Chris, who else? Jack, Frank, another Taylor, Percy…”

Jonah stopped listening as Luke kept enumerating the names of guys who actually had just been his classmates, or guys Bobby cheated with. The only ones he had actually dated were the exchange student, whose name was Arthur, he was also his French tutor, one of the Taylors and Lucas.

“Are you done making a fool of yourself?” Jonah asked as Luke stopped talking. “If you’re done, I think you can-”

“Oh, but I’m not done sweetheart, there’s one last person to talk about…” Luke cut him. “How about we talk about Bobby Marks now? I thought he was a slut, just like you, but turns out he’s actually a really nice guy. He told me a lot of things about you that I probably shouldn’t talk about-”

“Then don’t!”

Jonah looked over Luke’s shoulder and saw Tina standing in the doorway. She was coming in to start her shift.

“Officer!” Luke exclaimed, embarrassed. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know you should probably be leaving.” She said, stepping aside to hold the door open. “Have a nice day, sir.”

She waited for Luke to get out and be out of view to step back inside the station. But before she even reached Jonah’s office, he had already left his gun in his desk and grabbed his coat.

“I need some fresh hair.” he simply said walking past her.

___

"Jonah! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! Tina said-” Nate froze in the middle of the training room. “Jonah?"

Jonah was kneeling on the floor, his bloody hands laying on his laps. His ragged breath was interspersed with sobs. The punching bag above him, was stained with his blood and so were his clothes. He didn’t react when Nate called his name another time.

Nate wanted to rush to him but the intense smell of his blood made him scared to even take a step.

"What happened?"

"Get out…”

“Jonah?”

“Get out!” Jonah yelled. His teary eyes were filled with an indefinable mix of rage and despair as he turned his head towards the vampire.

The door burst open as the other vampires rushed to the training room. Seeing the bloody mess surrounding Jonah’s hunched figure, none of them dared to say anything, but Adam rushed to Nate’s side.

“Get! Out!” Jonah yelled one last time, almost pleading as Adam took another step forward.

Morgan walked to Nate and grabbed his arm. “Nate…Come on…” she said as Farah was pushing Adam out of the room, leaving the detective alone.

___

A couple hours later, Adam was knocking on Jonah’s door. He slowly opened the door, only peeking his head in the room. Jonah was sitting on his bed, trying to bandage his left hand. Bo was sleeping next to him. “Can I come in?"

The detective simply nodded.

Adam walked to Jonah and sat at the foot of the bed. Seeing that he was struggling with the bandage, Adam scooted closer and took Jonah’s left hand in his. “Let me help you…” he whispered, to which Jonah gave a grateful smile.

Blood was already seeping through the layers of gauze and, as he gently wrapped Jonah’s hand, Adam couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been in that training room, punching that bag, before they found him for his knuckles to be as bloodied as they were. Jonah winced as Adam wrapped his hand one last time.

“I’m sorry, did I wrap it too tight?” he instantly worried.

“No, it’s okay.”

Adam could feel Jonah’s pulse under his fingers as he was holding the bandage in place while Jonah was cutting a piece of medical tape. Even though he could hear his heartbeat, feeling it, feeling its irregularity when their hands brushed over the piece of tape and exchanged a gaze, was a wonder for Adam. It was something so simple and yet something he would never get used to.

His hands lingered on Jonah’s after he was done and they stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, simply holding each other’s gaze and hands as a comfortable silence settled around them. The world blurs and blends together until all they can feel and sense is each other.

"How are you doing?” He eventually asked. To which Jonah only shrugged. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He was once again given a shrug as an answer.

Seeing Jonah like that made his heart clench in his chest. His mission was to protect the human but he had failed so many times already. He felt so helpless. “Is there anything I can do?”

That’s when a tear rolled down Jonah’s cheek, quickly followed by way more and Adam, in a blurred movement, immediately closed the gap between them to envelop him in a reassuring embrace.

His hand softly rubbing Jonah’s back as he was slightly rocking them on the bed. He could feel his tears crashing on his skin and his cheeks becoming hot from the crying against his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss on his hair, right above his ear.

“Je suis là, tout va bien,” Adam whispered, holding Jonah a little bit closer.

He held Jonah until the sobbing stopped and when the detective pulled away, Adam’s hand remained on his waist. Jonah rubbed his eyes and, with the back of his hand, wiped away his tears.

"I’m sorry…” Jonah said, his voice hoarse.

“No please, do not apologize Detective…"

Jonah chuckled upon hearing Adam calling him Detective and a smile grew on the vampire’s face as he heard that sound he loved so much.

"Are you feeling better?” Adam reached out to wipe away a stray tear but his hand lingered on the human’s face, cupping his cheek. Jonah leaned in the touch and, putting his hand above Adam’s, kissed his palm.

Jonah nodded. “Thank you…” he whispered against the vampire’s palm.

After a kissin on Adam’s knuckles, the detective grabbed his phone on the bedside table, and after quickly typing, threw it on the bed. The motion drew Adam’s gaze to the bandages wrapping both of his hands.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Jonah said as he noticed Adam’s worried gaze.

“I just wish you would have come to us instead of hurting yourself like that…” Adam’s voice was filled with regret.

“Adam… You being here right now is more than I could have wished for… ” Jonah reached up, gently cupping the vampire’s cheeks. “You are more than I could have wished for.”

Slowly, Jonah closed the distance between them, until their forehead touched. Until he could feel Adam’s breath tingling on his own lips.

Adam was the one to lean forward and capture Jonah’s lips. The kiss was surprisingly soft despite its intensity. The minty taste of Adam’s lips contrasted with the heat taking over Jonah’s body as his whole being was set on fire and that any remnants of sadness was instantly replaced with pure bliss.

Jonah’s heart pounded in his chest as Adam’s hand slided down his back, sending a shiver down his spine as his fingers barely grazed his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Slipping his hands on the back of Adam’s head, Jonah pulled him closer, deepening the kiss and slightly parting his mouth a bit more, wanting, needing to taste more of the vampire.

But the kiss was cut short by a soft knock on the door. Adam let out a frustrated groan against Jonah’s lips before parting as the door opened revealing Nate.

“Am I interrupting something?” The vampire asked as he felt the electrified atmosphere of the room.

Despite his desire to send him away, Jonah answered that he wasn’t and Nate closed the door behind him.

He waited for Nate to sit with them on the bed and took his hand while he gave a gentle squeeze to Adam’s. He knew why he asked Nate to join them, but having them both in front of him, looking at him expectantly, Jonah wasn’t so sure he had made the right decision.

“First of all, I want to apologize for what happened earlier. Today wasn’t a good day but that wasn’t a reason to take it out on you.” He pulled them both into a hug. “I’m really thankful to have you both and I know you just wanted to help, so I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“Hey!” Nate cupped his cheek. “It’s okay, you needed some space, I think we can understand that.” The vampire said, to which Adam nodded in agreement.

Jonah nodded in return. “I cleaned everything, not sure if the smell is still there though…"

"We’ll take care of it, don’t worry about that.” Adam said.

“Now, apologies are great, but I think you at least deserve an explanation to my being in such a state."

"Jonah, you do not have to give us any explanation if you don’t feel like it.” Nate said sensing the uncertainty in Jonah’s voice.

“I know, Nate, but I want to.”

Upon those words, Nate gave him a gentle smile, which was all Jonah needed to gather up the courage to finally speak but, as Jonah started retelling the altercation he had had with Luke, everything he had tried burying deep down came back into ravaging waves.

Everything he had been planning on saying for the past hours was thrown out the window. His structured speech came out to be an overwhelming mess. Things he had told only to Tina and things he had never told to anyone came barreling out of his lips before he could stop them and through a curtain of tears he told them everything.

He told them about his high school band and his best friends outing him out in front of the whole town after kicking him out of the band for being polyamorous or as they would call him for the next few years “for being deviant”.

Adam and Nate weren’t saying anything. Adam’s gaze was completely focused on Jonah and Nate’s fingers were drawing incoherent forms on the back of his hand.

He told them about his hard time with the town and his hard beginning in the Wayhaven PD because of that. About being the talk of the town. About his colleagues giving him crass because he was only a slut in their eyes. About the people of Wayhaven yelling insults at him when they discovered he had been assigned to their case.

A worried frown immediately appeared on both their faces as Jonah stopped to avoid choking with his own tears. Adam and Nate both reacted at the same time and hugged their little human until he couldn’t breathe.

And he told them about Bobby. That still open wound. He told them about Bobby’s manipulation, about him using Jonah’s polyamory to explain his infidelities, about Bobby taking away pieces of himself so slowly that he never noticed until he was left with nothing.

Jonah could feel Adam’s grasp on his hand tighten as he told them about his past with Bobby and, both looking for comfort and to reassure Adam he made some space in between his legs and wrapped Adam’s arms around him like a blanket. With his back against Adam’s torso, he pulled his other boyfriend to him. Nate laid on the human’s laps who instinctively started raking his fingers through his hair, the vampire melting in his laps as he did so. They all chuckled when Bo started whining and came to sit on Nate’s stomach seeking affection.

They stayed like that for a while, until Jonah fell asleep. Nate held the human in his arms while Adam was opening the bedsheets. He gently laid him down before they both crawled under the sheets to cuddle their boyfriend. Pressing a kiss on Jonah’s they both sworn to protect the human so dear to their heart.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER FIVE: US

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 2868 Rating: T - canon-typical language, reference to Stephen King A/N: The adorable, fluffy early part of a relationship is hard to write, y’all. Especially first dates.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

“So...you and Derek…” Riley began after you had both placed your orders and found a table. 

“What? What about Derek and me? There isn’t a ‘me and Derek,’” you said in a rush. Except that there was, now, and you weren’t sure why you were denying it. 

“That’s my point! You’d be good together.”

“Would we?” you asked skeptically. 

A voice nagged at the back of your mind, lecturing you about how you knew that already, how of course you were good together, you were more than good, you were perfect foils. You liked bickering and bantering with him, and watching scifi together, and doing terrible impressions of people you both knew, and just talking and being near him. You weren't sure what had happened earlier, but you knew you wanted it to happen again. And that you wanted...to curl up on your couch with your knees tucked up under you and your head on his chest while his arm wrapped around you and held you close, or sit across from him at a restaurant and steal his fries, or make pancakes with him on a Sunday morning in your pajamas (never mind that you'd have to learn how first, for Derek you'd figure it out). You were sure you wanted all of those cute, romantic companionship things, with Derek. So why were you still pretending otherwise?

“Sure. He’s not my type, and he can be a little annoying sometimes, but he makes it work, in his own way.”

Your conversation was momentarily interrupted by your drinks and snacks being brought over. It was just enough time for you to come to a decision. 

“You’re really selling him,” you joked, hiding a smile behind your scone. “I’m so convinced.”

“Come on, Y/N. Give him a chance. He might surprise you.”

“Riley, listen. I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, setting me up with Derek, but you are wasting your breath...”

“Why? Give me one good reason not to go out to dinner with him.”

“He hasn’t asked me to?” you squinted your eyes and tilted your head in question. 

She sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Hypothetically though, if he did ask, and assuming you both had the night off, and—”

“Riley, can you slow down for a second?” you couldn’t help but laugh as you cut off what was likely to be quite the spiel. After all, she was a business major, and they loved their hypotheticals almost as much as lawyers.

She stopped, or at least paused, and picked up her coffee cup, looking at you expectantly.

“You’re wasting your breath not because my answer would be no, but because...well..he and I sort of...already...hooked up? About,” you checked the clock on your phone, “an hour ago.”

She choked, only just avoiding spraying her latte over you. “What?!”

“Well I mean, not hooked up, hooked up. But there was a lot of kissing, and other stuff. And not a lot of clothes. It probably maybe might have actually ended up as hooked up, hooked up if you hadn’t called,” you grimaced as you tried to explain. “But you cannot tell Sean any of this.”

“Why not?”

You chewed on your lip. “Because it just happened. And I don’t know if it was a one-off, heat-of-the-moment thing. So I don’t want him to know anything until there’s something worth knowing. If there’s something worth telling, he’ll probably end up one of the first to know anyway.”

“Okay, I might let you have that,” she smirked, leaning in. “So tell me more: What’s ‘other stuff’? How few clothes are we talking? How’d it happen? Was it good?”

Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as you laughed awkwardly and focused your attention on your drink as a distraction. 

~

“You’re never gonna believe this, dawg,” Derek said, blowing a puff of smoke up into the air. “So I was over at Y/N’s, and we were hangin out, and we started arguing, right?”

“Because that comes as a shock to anyone,” Sean answered, rolling his eyes and taking a long drag before passing the joint back.

“No, no, no, man. That’s not the surprising thing. We’re arguing and all up in each other’s face and then, out of nowhere, she kisses me!” Derek’s grin was wide and a little bit awed as he spoke, forgetting to take another hit.

There was genuine shock on Sean’s face and he seemed at a loss for words, blinking owlishly at his best friend. 

“So anyway, there I am, there we are because the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen - no offense to Riley man - is kissing me, so obviously I kissed her back. She didn't taste like I thought she would, apples or somethin, like she always smells, but I guess that's her hair or something, it was…” Derek trailed off for a second, trying to think of exactly how he wanted to describe the taste of kissing her, and then he snapped his fingers, carrying on, “candy canes. Those ones with the extra purple stripe that kinda taste like berries.”

He ignored Sean saying his name, trying to capture his attention and carried on. 

“Then, it's not just kissing. Cus she's laying back onto the bed and I'm following and now I'm on top of her and she takes her shirt off. No bra underneath so I've got the perfect view of her sweet, perky—”

“Stop!” Sean yelled, voice echoing off the concrete pillars of the parking garage. “Fucking hell Derek, that's my cousin. Practically my little sister for Christ's sake.”

 “What?” Derek frowned, confused for a moment when it finally dawned on him. “Oh shit, man, I'm sorry. I thought since you were cool with me taking a shot...I wasn't thinkin about…”

“It's fine. I only need to bleach out half my brain. I'm happy for you and Y/N, I really am, it's about time frankly, but I don't want to know.”

“Yeah. Yeah no problem man.”

A silence hung over them as they finished their smoke, before suddenly Derek was speaking again.

“I looked up the song while I drove here, and it turns out, she was right. I had nothin to even argue with her about.” He chuckled, the grin creeping across his face again. “I’m glad I did though.”

~

Several weeks went by and it seemed like things were going back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. You got busy with school and finals, seeing Derek a lot less often and for shorter blocks, and the timing never seemed right to talk. 

One night, you were both hanging out with Sean, trying to cheer him up over the fact that Riley had cancelled on him because of some big presentation for school. While your cousin was out of the room meeting the pizza guy, an odd silence descended over you both for a moment, before Derek turned to face you on the couch. 

“What are we?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” you answered, frowning in confusion and mirroring his position. 

“We have one killer makeout, then never talk about it. I flirt, I think you’re flirtin back but it’s hard to tell. You call me sweet one second and stupid the next. I just don’t get it, Y/N, and it’s starting to drive me crazy.”

“I like you, Derek. A lot. Like, to the point it kinda scares me if I’m being honest, a lot,” you shrugged, holding your shoulders at your ears. “But...I don’t know. Is this a good idea?”

“This? You mean...us?” He frowned in confusion. 

“Is there an us already?” you sighed, voice trembling. “Yeah, I guess I mean, the possibility of an us at least.”

He reached over, taking one of your hands in his. “I don’t want to push you into anything, but I’ll be honest, girl, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You opened your mouth to make a snarky comment in response and he shook his head, laughing lightly. 

“I mean the real you, not just kissin you or seeing your tiddies, although those were nice.”

You shot him a glare, reaching across the gap between you to slap his shoulder in annoyance. He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender.

“You’re so smart, way too smart for me. And fiesty, and hilarious, and sweet. I don’t know, you’re you. And I really like everything about you, all the little things even that make me feel like I got steam comin outta my ears like the Looney Tunes.”

“I…”

“Let me take you out to dinner, or breakfast, or lunch, whenever you’re free. A date though. One date and we can talk about it, whatever’s got you feeling unsure. Please?”

He was looking at you so earnestly that you couldn’t resist saying yes, suggesting lunch on Sunday just as Sean returned. He looked between you with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. You rolled your eyes, stealing the food from him, and Derek pressed play on the movie as Sean settled back into the middle seat. 

~

You paced anxiously up and down the length of your living room, biting on a thumb nail. You paused, debating changing your outfit for the third time. Derek had said he wanted to do the whole package for a date, so he was going to pick you up at your apartment, and drive downtown. Then you’d park and walk together to lunch. It was cute. But it left you with too much time to think while you waited for the text that said he was downstairs.

It was just Derek. Derek who’d been your friend for months now, who could make you laugh no matter what, and who looked at you like you hung the moon when he thought you didn’t notice, and who made your stomach flip. Derek who you’d been fully ready and willing to sleep with a few weeks ago. But this felt different. It was a real date. It was a tipping point, maybe the start of something, or the end. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump. 

‘Hey, I’m here. Want me to come up?’ you read. 

If he came upstairs, you could probably convince him to forget the date and the questions and the everything else to pick up where you’d left off the last time he’d been to your place. The thought was tempting. But it was only delaying the inevitable. 

‘I’ll be down in a sec,’ you fired back instead, gathering up your keys and purse and hurrying down to meet him. 

He was standing on your front step when you got downstairs, greeting you with a surprising hug, which you were happy to return, before you both stepped back and took each other in. 

“Damn,” he said with a low whistle. “You look…damn.”

You felt your cheeks flush hotly. Your outfit wasn’t something particularly fancy, but you had tried to dress nicely for him, and to take advantage of the warm spring weather.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, smiling broadly at him (code for he looked absolutely jaw-droppingly sexy in his own choice of dressy-casual). 

He winked at you and then swept an arm out dramatically. “Your chariot awaits. Shall we?”

“Don’t mind if I do, kind sir,” you affected a posh accent and haughty expression before giggling and practically skipping down the stairs.

~

The drive, as usual, turned into an impromptu concert (mostly Bon Jovi today) and for the walk to the restaurant and all of lunch, conversation flowed easily. It was comfortable enough that you almost forgot that you had hesitated to agree.

“I hate to kill the mood,” he said after most of your meal was done. “But part of today was supposed be to figuring out us.”

You sighed. There was the other shoe, finally dropping.

“You’re right, it was.”

“So why do you think this is a bad idea?” he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Straight to the point,” you observed. “I'm surprised.”

He shrugged. “Just wanna get it done. Why dance around?”

“I don’t know. We’re friends, and I like how things are. And you and Sean are friends and if we were to try this...dating or whatever thing, and it didn’t work out I don’t want to lose us or ruin your friendship or,” you sighed. “It just seems like a lot to risk.”

“Sean and I are way too close to let a girl come between us, even if that girl is you.” He smirked teasingly at you.

“Well that makes me feel a little better,” you rolled your eyes, but there was a sincerity to your words that he definitely picked up on. “What if you’re wrong, and we start dating, and it makes things awkward between you and Sean? What if it doesn’t but we break up and then Sean has to pick between his cousin and his best friend? What if we start dating and it doesn’t work out and we lose each other? Because you’re one my best friends, Derek, and I can’t even imagine what life would actually be like without you in it, but it’s a scary thought. What if—”

He reached across the table to rest his hand on top of the fingers you were drumming anxiously on the table. 

“Forget what ifs for a second.”

You looked at him skeptically.

“Just work with me. No thinking about the future. If just right now mattered, how would you feel? What would you do?”

“I don’t know. I’d feel...happy? I’d tell you that I’m having a really good time hanging out with you again, and I missed it when I got busy with finals. I’d tell you that color looks really good on you. And that you have chocolate from your pancakes on your lip, but...I think you should leave it there and let me get it…” you were blushing furiously, cheeks practically on fire, and you fought the urge to look down at the table. 

He laughed, the sound filling your chest with warmth and effervescence. With a wink, he shifted his chair around the table until his knee bumped into yours. 

“Go on then,” he murmured, angling even closer. “Live in just this moment.”

You breath caught in your throat, heart racing.

“Or should I do it for you?” 

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and his eyes traced its path. 

“Derek…” your voice was barely above a breath. 

And then you were both leaning in, and his hand was braced on the back of your chair, and yours was on the back of his neck. Your lips were on his and his were on yours, and for a second, time and his breath and your heart all stopped. You slid your tongue across his lip and then sucked on it lightly, removing the chocolate stain as promised and making him groan softly. His hand left the chair to curl around your back, trying to angle you closer without pulling you off your chair. 

Someone cleared their throat behind you, shattering the moment and making you leap apart. The freckle-faced young waiter stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“You...uh...I was asked to come over and tell you that…” he stammered, blushing furiously. 

“We’re disturbing the other customers and should keep the PDA for later?” you asked sheepishly, not unfamiliar with the feeling of having to deliver such messages to couples on dates. 

He nodded rapidly before turning tail and practically fleeing back to the kitchens. You couldn’t help giggling, especially when you saw the pouting look on Derek’s face. After a moment, he grinned and joined in with your laughter, until you earned another stern look from some of the older folks in the little restaurant around you. 

“Maybe we should go?” you suggested, struggling to contain yourself. “I don’t think they like us much.”

“Probably,” he answered, quickly waving down someone to bring your check. 

As you walked out together, you impulsively stepped closer. You were just passing through the door and into the afternoon sunshine when you laid your head on Derek’s shoulder, making him stiffen for a moment, before he shifted his stance to make it more comfortable for the both of you, looping an arm around your waist.

“So,” he said as you wandered like that down the sidewalk in no particular direction.

“Hm?” 

“What’s this mean then?”

“It means that I like you, a lot. And I like this...us...thing. And I’m still scared, but I want to give it a shot?”

“Okay.” You could practically hear the grin in his voice as his arm tightened to pull you closer.

“And if you ever break my heart, I’ll break your foot.”

“Why my foot?” he laughed.

“Because it’s easy-ish. And it makes it harder for you to leave.”

“Ah, I see. Going a little Annie Wilkes on me?”

“You’ve seen Misery?”

“No. But I liked the book.”

You tilted your head to look more fully at him, gaping. 

“What? Am I not allowed to be a Stephen King fan?”

“You never cease to surprise me, Derek Sandoval.”

[thestuckylibrary]

Mods’ Reads: January 2020

Here’s the list of everything the Mods have read this past month!

Mod Blue

Sine Tactu by justanotherStonyfan (complete | 22,586 | M)

“Want me to help with this?” Steve says quietly, head about level with James’ stomach as he stares up at him, fingers reaching up for James’ fly, but James shakes his head.

“No,” he says, wets his lips - Steve is all skin and muscle and he’s totally naked and he’s right here and- “no, I’m.” He swallows hard. “I’m not getting naked. This is about you.”

Part 29 of Honey Honey

Propius by justanotherStonyfan (oneshot | 6,178 | E)

Steve comes home kicking snow off his shoes, although a lot of it’s gray colored, and he’s shivering. Despite that, his cheeks are bright with the cold and his smile is bright with affection, camera in hand.

“Hi!” he says on a breath, shoulders hunched to keep the cold air out of his collar, and James smiles, crosses the conversion to reach him, and grabs the trailing ends of Steve’s scarf to draw him down for a kiss hello. “Mh.”

James wrinkles his nose as Steve’s nose presses into his cheek.

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he says, and Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah,” he says “That’s why I came back inside.”

Part 30 of Honey Honey

I Believe In Something More by cydonic (complete | 74,304 | M)

In April of 2014, two very important things happen: The Winter Soldier is prepped for a mission as part of Project Insight which never ends up happening, and Steve Rogers finds out his mother is dying.

In October of 2018, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers meet in the Sculpture Garden at UCLA. Bucky has spent the ensuing years building a life for himself, learning that he likes to study in the sunshine and build friendships with people who just think of him as ‘that nice guy who’s really smart’, not what he used to be. Steve has tried to make it in Brooklyn, but everything reminds him of Sarah. He needs a change of scenery, and following his childhood best friend Sam Wilson over to California seems to be the way to do it.

Rare Is This Love (Keep It Covered) by histoires_eternelles, musette22 (complete | 66,773 | E)

It's 2014. Captain America has been out of the ice for three years and is trudging along, saving the world and trying to get used to living in the future. Steve thinks he knows how the rest of his life is going to pan out – a life of duty, which he chose when he signed up to be Erskine’s science experiment. But then, he meets Bucky Barnes: the out-of-this-world-gorgeous mechanic and war vet, who turns Steve’s life upside down and makes him question everything he thought he knew. Slowly, Steve comes to realize there is more to life than duty and punching Nazis. Just one problem though: how on earth does a 96-year-old virgin who only just realized he may not be entirely straight make the transition from crush to relationship? Cue healthy amounts of self-doubt, awkward flirting, pretty blushing, existential crises, emotional growth, and maybe, possibly, a sexual awakening.

darling heart, i loved you from the start (but that's no excuse for the state i'm in) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 19,725 | T)

“I thought you’d make a terrible Nazi but turns out you’d make a terrifying one instead.”

The year is 2012. Loki has vanished with the Tesseract, and Manhattan is a blazing wreck. A very tired Steve Rogers goes home and meets another very tired Steve Rogers.

Or, the one where Steve saves the mind stone for last and decides to fuck the timeline beyond all recognition, which regrettably involves crawling delicately up Hydra's asshole and less regrettably involves showering a very confused Bucky Barnes with affection.

Kissin' by the mistletoe (Love came to stay) by obsessivereader (oneshot | 4,949  | E)

“I told you,” Steve wheezes, as he tries to catch his breath. “Didn’t I fucking tell you we'd fall if you didn't quit pushing?”

He’d laugh if he had any air left in his lungs. Instead, all he can do is stare up at Bucky as the sound of his carefree laugh winds its way around Steve’s heart. He barely even registers the cold seeping in through his jacket and jeans as he lies in the snow, attention catching instead on the snowflake clinging to Bucky’s lashes. Were Bucky’s eyes always that luminous? The crinkles around his eyes so endearing? Were his lips always that pink?

Bucky’s laugh dies away at Steve’s continued silence. A strange expression settles on his face, like he’s looking into the face of a stranger for the first time, studying and cataloging Steve’s features one by one—eyes, nose, mouth.

Based on this tweet, which has, sadly, been deleted: FUFJFJ ITS SNOWING A LOT IN NY RN AND IM WALKING HOME AND THESE GUYS ARE LIKE PUSHING EACH OTHER IN THE STREET AND ONE GUY GOES “YOU ASSHOLE STOP PUSHING ME IM GONNA FALL” AND THE OTHER GUY WAS LIKE “.... For Me?” and the other guy was like bro... no fuck you” AND THEY BOTH FELL

Part 2 of Happy Steve Bingo!

thot through the heart (and you're to blame) by Deisderium (complete | 9,899 | E)

"You look like shit," Steve says, and that breaks the spell a little because fuck you, Steve, he looks good. Steve's nostrils flare. "Is that—is that blood on your mouth?"

Oh, fuck. Bucky needs to work on not being a sloppy eater. He wipes his mouth hastily, and without thinking, licks his hand clean. Steve stares.

*

In which Bucky is a baby vampire, a disaster, out to have a good time, and hopelessly in love with his roomate; and in which Steve has a few secrets of his own.

Part 1 of food for thot

Scratched Ragged and Rubbed Raw by cheesethesecond (oneshot | 3,788 | T)

“How are you gonna sleep tonight,” Bucky asked, letting his head fall back against the wall and closing his eyes, “knowing that a guy who tried to kill you is sleeping in the next room?”

“Like a baby,” Steve said.

This Lonely Hour Before Daybreak by cheesethesecond (oneshot | 2,912 | T)

Steve knew there would be good days and bad days. That’s how this sort of thing worked.

Except sometimes, the bad days go like this.

Something Great by dragongirlG (oneshot | 1,485 | G)

The Soldier knows he is not Bucky Barnes, but he still seeks out Steve Rogers after the helicarriers fall, inexplicably craving Rogers' affection. Rogers gives it. (Basically, the Winter Soldier wants a hug. Steve gives him that and a little more.)

Based on a prompt from withinmelove: I have a love for Winter Soldier as his own person so Winter Soldier and Steve cuddling is my prompt! Maybe WS is touch starved and is really eager to be affectionate with Steve who is happy to be close and tender with him.

The Right Partner* by LeeHan (oneshot | 41,651 | E) *graphic violence

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong,” Bucky said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “but I believe I was promised a mocha.”

When he turned to look at Steve there was laughter in his eyes and a touch of heat in his smile.

Dating a civilian was always risky. Luckily, Bucky seemed like a nice, genuine guy and Steve knew he could gently reject him with the smallest shrug and that Bucky would accept his decision easily. It was the smart thing to do.

“Don’t forget the croissant.”

—

Steve meets a beautiful man with a bright laugh on a sunny day in Italy. Captain America meets the elusive Winter Soldier moments later.

Date Bucky Barnes. Defeat the Winter Soldier. Bring down Hydra. How hard could it be?

Pedantic Affectations by fannishlove, relenafanel (complete | 15,858 | M)

Steve Rogers: khaki pants and ugly tweed wearing art history professor specializing in historical queer art (by day). Is actually Captain America, vigilante and the bane of Detective Barnes’s existence (by night).

Detective Bucky Barnes: A very clever cop who suspects something is up with Steve. Is frustrated that Captain America exists and is dedicated to finding him because he loves a good puzzle.

So, how does Steve convince Bucky that he's too boring to be Captain America? Go on a date with him.

(Steve is kind of really, really bad at this secret identity thing)

The Comfort in Certainty by justanotherStonyfan (complete | 20,554 | E)

"You were right when you said we need to talk," Steve says softly ... "Is there anything you want to say first?"

... James can't stand the suspense. If it's going to happen, if he's going to do it, James wants that bandaid ripped off now.

"Is this a breakup talk?" he says, and his wishes his voice would be stronger but he’s almost glad that it’s not.

Steve takes a deep breath in through his nose.

Part 31 of Honey Honey

Honeypot by cleo4u2, xantissa (complete | 133,204 | E)

Preconditions: One Sasha Marozow - internationally renowned assassin for hire, known as the Winter Soldier, ex-Hydra operative freelancing for the last five years; One Steve Rogers, Captain America - recently defrosted national hero and Avenger; One assassination contract; One set-up known in the intelligence community as the “honeytrap”.

Expected Result: One Winter Soldier in custody, the name of his employer attained.

Actual result: Definitely not as expected.

Part 1 of Honeypot

Give Up the Ghost* by cleo4u2, xantissa (oneshot | 19,518 | E) *graphic violence

They were happy together and the year had been good for them. They thought nothing could tear them apart. They were wrong.

Part 2 of Honeypot

i'm a believer (got a fever running through my bones) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 16,742 | E)

Everyone knows Captain America is an alpha. His tragic romance with Howard Stark is as popular a topic for movies and academic papers as his exploits in the war. Sure, Stark never said a word, and he clearly moved on, given that Tony Stark is currently alive. But even now, people like to gossip in hushed whispers about how sad it is that Howard Stark passed away a mere two years before they found the good Captain in the ice.

Bucky gets it, alright? Alpha/omega is the norm. Matches sanctioned by god or whatever bullshit your conservative Christian sect of the day likes to ramble about. It’s the twenty-first century, and the world still runs on a maddening policy of straight until proven otherwise. Thing is, Bucky has most certainly proven otherwise and has been doing so since he was a wee alpha panting after some knothead or the other because being queer didn’t magically make him any less stupid than your average horny teenager.

Bucky’s an alpha, Bucky likes alphas, and he’d love nothing more than to climb Steve Rogers like a goddamn monkey bar.

- Steve meets Bucky on a flaming helicarrier. It’s not the most romantic first meeting, what with the Nazis and the bullet wounds, but they make it work.

the jackpot question  by biblionerd07 (series, ongoing | 16,126 | G-T)

Steve needs a ride home for Christmas. Bucky needs a passenger.

Winter Gorgon* by Quarra (complete | 74,067 | E) *graphic violence

For as long as Steve could remember, all he ever wanted to do was what was right. So when he hears about his father's old regiment being held as POW's by the Nazis, he's determined to put what Doctor Erskine gave him to good use and goes AWOL to rescue them.

But the 107th isn't all he finds there. Deep in the labs is a very unusual prisoner; one with snakes in his hair and a mask nailed to his face. Despite the man's monstrous visage, Steve can't in good conscience leave him to the enemy. That one act of mercy will change his life, the course of the war, and even the future of the world.

[louhooo]

Hello My Old Heart | Chap. 13

Chapter Summary: Let’s get this show on the road!

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU]

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, underage drinking [it’s bad, mmkay? don’t do it], aaaand some ANGST

A/N: SORRY I FELL OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH WITH THIS SERIES!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!!!

“Okay, Danny’s giving the signal,” you watched the flower girls make their way to the front row and sit beside Peggy. Your turned to Pepper and smiled at one another. She winked at Sharon and started her walk down the procession. You looked back at Sharon and fixed a flyaway strand of hair. “It’s not too late if you wanna take a run for it.”

Sharon laughed, a smile staying on her face. “It’s so weird. I was so freaked out earlier, but now that it’s here?” She chuckled, “I’m ready to be married.” You smiled and shared a quick hug.

“I love you, Sharon.”

“I love you, too, Y/N.” You pulled back, both glassy eyed and adjusted the bouquet of flowers in your hand.

“I’ll see you in a bit, lady.” You and Sharon shared a watery laugh and you stepped into the doorway, holding the flowers up as you walked down the aisle.  

You took slow and steady steps, a wide smile on display as you scanned the audience. You spotted Nick sitting towards the back of the church wearing all black, not deviating from his usual color, despite the occasion. The Barnes’ sat two rows behind Sarah and Joe, and you tried to hide your embarrassment when Becca leaned into the aisle and snapped a picture of you, causing a few rows to laugh politely. She beamed up at you as you walked beside her.

“You’re a little shit, Rebecca Barnes.”

She giggled, “Love you, too.” You grinned and looked at blond man standing at the altar. 

Steve stood anxiously, giving you a nervous chuckle when you locked eyes. You smiled tenderly at him and he stepped down, kissing your cheek.

“She looks beautiful, Stevie,” you murmured into his ear. He placed a hand on your waist and hugged you, the tension radiating off his body. You gave him one more smile and stepped up beside Pepper and turned to watch Sharon.

Everyone stood and the doors opened up to an ethereal figure in white standing in the doorway. Sharon glided down the aisle, her eyes never leaving Steve’s. You looked at Steve, and sure enough, his usually stoic persona melted away to the sentimental sap that he was. 

Steve’ll be the first one to tell you: weddings always make him cry.

You sniffled and wiped your tears as you helped fix her dress as she stood next to Steve. When you stood up straight, you finally acknowledged the feeling of someone staring at you. You took a jagged breath and cast your eyes towards him.

Bucky stared at you as Sharon’s uncle started talking about how honored he was to officiate for her and Steve. You were vaguely aware that he was still talking about the couple, but you prayed no one asked you what exactly he said.

Tck! 

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the window, pushing the curtains back and lifting the window pane up. You folded your arms and leaned against the sill, smirking at the brunet a few feet below.

“Whatdya want now?” He clicked his tongue and put his hands on his hips, squinting up at you.

“You aren’t answering your phone. I coulda had an emergency and you woulda missed it.”

“Well, ya seem to be just fine, so–” Bucky gave you an unamused glare back and you laughed.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” You sighed and leaned back enough to push the screen up. You leaned out of the window with your hands on the outer sill.

“Will you get up here and kiss me already?” If he weren’t so anxious, he would’ve teased you some more, made you wait longer, but he couldn’t. Not when he hadn’t kissed you since last night. He quickly stood on top of the AC unit and you leaned out further to meet him. You kept one hand on the ledge and the other on his jaw, holding him close. Bucky cupped your face and held you as he pulled your lips to his. Slightly chapped and tasting faintly of coffee. 

Just how you liked your kisses in the morning.

“I never wanna go that long without kissin’ ya ever again.” He placed kiss after kiss on your lips until you giggled and pulled back. You stuck out your pinkie for him.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Barnes.” He smirked and hooked his pinkie with yours and you shook in agreement. You intertwined the rest of your fingers together and gazed at each other. “What did you and the guys do last night?”

“Played Call of Duty and ate pizza. And Clint got one of the guys at work to buy us beer.”

“You didn’t drink too much, did you?” Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, just enough to get a buzz. Stevie got pretty toasted, though.”

“Buck…” you drawled, “you promised me no hungover people today.” Bucky chuckled.

“He drank less than I did! He ate a greasy breakfast at Peg’s and he was fine. No one’ll be the wiser.” You shook your head with a small grin. “What did you and the girls do?”

“Talked about the universe. Same as any sleepover.” Bucky grinned and rolled his eyes, but you weren’t joking. Sleepovers get very serious once everyone is settled into bed.

“You gonna share it with me?” A slow grin spread on your face.

“Sorry. I can only tell ya if we have the same last name.” He pursed his lips and hummed.

“Well, I did have plans this afternoon, but I might be able to squeeze a wedding in.”

You played along. “What plans do you have?”

“Dancin’ with my pretty wife and eatin’ cake. In that order.” Your face heated up and you grinned bashfully at him. 

“A real charmer, huh?” He gave you a dazzling smile that made his eyes twinkle.  

“So I’ve been told…. So, you’re gonna marry me, right?” You hummed.

“If you ask nicely.” Bucky blinked and gave a sly grin as he tilted his head. He traced his fingers down the curve of your neck, his thumb brushing over your collar bone, skimming the chain of your necklace. 

“Y/N, will you marry me?” You stuck your tongue out to wet your lips, Bucky’s eyes landing on your lips. His mouth parted and he slowly cast his eyes back on yours. 

“Sorry. I’ve already got plans tonight.” He growled in the back of his throat and stood on his toes and attacked your lips, making you laugh. Your bedroom door opened and Nat growled.

“Barnes! I told you to get lost!” Bucky grimaced and kissed you once more before jumping off the AC and taking off running towards his truck.

“See ya later, Peaches! I’ll be the stud in front!” You smiled and bit your lip.

“I’ll be the one in white!” You hollered out to him, he cast another dazzling smile over his shoulder and you watched him until he was out of sight. You sighed and stood up straight turning to look at Nat.

“Really?”

“We haven’t seen each other since last night! We haven’t gone that long without seeing each other since he visited his family in Indiana two summers ago.” 

“I know for a fact he and Sam walked here at midnight last night so he could see you.” You grinned and shut the screen on the window.

“I can’t help it. He’s cute and has nice hair.” Nat shook her head and sighed.

“C’mon, Juliet. You gotta finish getting ready.”

“C’mon, Y/N! We wanna see!” Becca squealed from the other side of the door. You studied yourself in the floor mirror and smoothed out the invisible creases by your hips. Sharon and Nat came into view and grinned at you.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” You took a deep breath and turned to look at them.

“I’ll text Clint if you wanna leave.” You shook your head.

“Do you think he’s gonna like it?” Sharon gave you an understanding smile and placed her hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, Bucky is gonna cry like a baby when he sees you. Steve said he already cried once this morning.” You blinked and tilted your head in curiosity.

“What? I just saw him at noon. He never said anything.” Nat and Sharon chuckled and she dropped her arms.

“Does that really surprise you? You know how weird he gets about showing his emotions.” You sighed. It was true. Annoyingly true. “Steve said he just stared at a picture of you on his phone and cried.”

“Which picture?” Sharon shrugged.

“He couldn’t tell.” Another impatient knock sounded and you both sighed. “We better go before Becca breaks the door down.” You picked up the skirt of your dress and walked over to the door, taking another deep breath before you opened it.

A flurry of excitement and squeals filled the room. You smiled widely, coming more into the room and giving a twirl for the women (and Becca) who eagerly waited.

“OHMYGOD! You look beautiful!” Becca came up to your side and immediately wrapped her arms around you. You hugged her back tightly and tucked her brown curls as you looked at each other.

“Is Buck gonna like it?”

“He’s not that stupid!”

“Rebecca!” Winnie, Sarah, and Peggy all chided at the same time. Becca rolled her eyes just for you and stepped back. When you looked at Winnie, her resolve quickly faded and tears started streaming down her face. 

“Oh, Y/N….” Winnie spread her arms out, and you quickly stepped into them, trying your best to not break down in hysterics. 

Your family hadn’t been able to come. 

Hadn’t been able, or didn’t make the effort, you weren’t entirely sure, but it upset you all the same. Everyone had been tiptoeing around the subject since they told you they wouldn’t be there, but you did your best to not act like it bothered you. Of course, no one believed you, but you liked to pretend you were better at acting than they gave you credit for.

Winnie squeezed you tight. “I love you, sweetheart. I’m so happy that I’m getting you as a daughter.” You squeezed her back, no longer hiding your tears. The room quieted down as Sarah and Peggy ushered Becca, Sharon, and Nat out of the room, giving you and Winnie a moment alone. You stood together for a few silent minutes, soaking in the moment.

In less than thirty minutes, you would be ‘Mrs. Barnes’ just the same as her. Mrs. Barnes.

Mrs. James Barnes.

Mrs. Y/N Barnes.

You had already practiced writing it a few times since Bucky pretended to propose sophomore year.

You separated and Winnie went to her purse and pulled out a tissue and carefully blotted your tears so that your makeup stayed intact.

“Ya know, George bawled like a baby on our wedding day.” You gave a watery laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. He cries at everything.” Winnie chuckled and nodded her head.

“Yes, he does. And I love it.” She finished wiping your tears and grinned warmly at you. “Bucky cried this morning.”

You gasped in subdued disbelief, “That’s what Sharon said…! Steve said he was looking at my picture?” Winnie kept her grin and nodded. “Do you know which picture it was?”

“He wouldn’t say.” You sighed and tried to think of what picture it could be. “I bet he’ll tell ya if you ask….” You snorted.

“Well, I would sure hope so, but it wouldn’t totally shock me if he kept it a secret from me, too.” You both laughed and a soft rap echoed in the room.

“Y/N, it’s time,” Sharon peeked her head in and grinned. Your forgotten nerves came back with a vengeance, demanding your attention. It was a blur how you somehow made it to the hallway outside the altar. Sarah and Peggy gave you tight hugs before leaving to find their seats, and Winnie gave you a kiss on the cheek before going to find George and Bucky so they could make their way down the aisle. 

“I can spend the night whenever, right?” You blinked and looked at Becca. How long had she been talking?

“Sorry, Bex, I wasn’t paying attention. Spend the night where?”

“At your house.” You gave a breathy laugh.

“Your mom and dad just told us about it last night, Becca, I don’t think we’re ready for guests yet.”

“Especially when you’ll have all those rooms to christen.” You gasped and spun around and gave Nat a pointed look, who only gave a sly grin in return. You eyed her as you looked back at Becca, who had, thankfully, not heard Nat’s commentary.

“Yes, Becca, once Buck and I are semi-settled, you can start spendin’ the night.”

“Can I have my own room?” You laughed and smoothed one, lone, wild curl.

“You’ll hafta ask your brother, but probably.” She groaned.

“He’ll say ‘no’.” You shrugged.

“Ya never know.” She sighed and moved to get in line. The bridesmaid processional song was starting, which meant in two minutes you would be walking down the aisle.

“Alright, Becca, you’re up first.” You adjusted the silver bow on the back of her dress and grinned at her. She smiled and waved before stepping out behind the doors separating the bridal party from everyone else. Sharon, kept watch and Nat came up next to you and squeezed your elbow.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.” You smiled at each other and she disappeared next. Sharon glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

“It’s not too late if you wanna make a run for it?” You scoffed a laugh.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Well… you don’t hafta get married…” You shook your head immediately.

“I’m marryin’ that boy if it’s the last thing I do,” Sharon chuckled and you grinned to yourself. “I’ll have to tell him later that he was right; we shoulda just gone to the courthouse and called it good.” Sharon walked towards you and wiped the curve of her finger under your eye.

“I promise I won’t tell him you said that.” You both laughed softly and your ears both perked at the swell of the song that signaled Sharon’s cue. She took a deep breath and smiled at you, “Let’s get you married.” You smiled back and she left you, taking her turn to walk down the aisle, leaving you alone for a few still seconds.

Deep breaths.

It’s just you and Bucky. No one else matters.

Just you and him.

The double doors creaked open and first few beats of your processional song started to fill the room. You grinned at Clint and Nick, and took another deep breath before clasping your hands around the stem of your bouquet, and taking a step forward.

You glanced around, the sudden feeling of anxiety starting to creep into your thoughts as everyone in the room stood to watch you. Had your palms always been this sweaty? Surely, your heart hasn’t always beat this fast, has it? Did everyone really need to stare at you? 

You finally looked forward, and all the noise stopped.

Bucky.

He stood at the end of the aisle, red and teary eyed, dressed in the navy suit that you thought made his eyes bluer. He bit the inside of his lip, trying, and failing, at keeping his tears from showing.

How did he get so lucky?

You were finally close enough that Bucky could take your hand.

He blew out a long breath as he looked you up and down, “Oh, sweetheart… ya look,” you smiled at him, thumbing the tears from his cheek. “Wow.”

Bucky never thought he’d be one of those grooms that cried on his wedding day, he’d even told you as much every chance he could. 

I don’t cry, Peaches, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna start doin’ it in front of everyone we know.

Of course, you told him he might, and, of course, you were right.

He’ll tell you that later.

But you probably already know.

“Bucky?” He hummed, and you grinned at him. “Let’s get married.” He smiled and squeezed your hand.

You blinked and beamed at your friends as Danny pronounced Steve and Sharon man and wife. The room filled with cheers as Steve cupped Sharon’s face and kissed her. They turned and smiled at everyone before holding hands and making their way back up the aisle. 

You glanced back at Pepper, only to see Nat standing behind her. You blinked.

When had she gotten there? You looked over at the groomsmen and saw Clint at the end. Before you could suggest switching spots, you were pushed towards the middle. Big hands caught you before you could embarrass yourself further.

“Are you okay?” You nodded and tried to wipe off the awkwardness.

“I’m fine, Bucky. We should go.” You looked at him expectantly, and for three slow seconds, he stared at you before sighing and turning, extending his elbow for you. You clasped onto it and ascended the aisle with him, ignoring the way it made your heart race.

“I still wanna talk.” You sighed and looked at him.

Why can’t you just stop loving him? 

Why can’t you just let him go…?

Why can’t you just let Dot finally have him?

“I know,” Bucky’s shoulder’s relaxed, “I do, too.”

… Why do you still have to love James Barnes?

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Previous // Next

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.5

Summary: As much as the guys have loved living in their idyllic little bubble for the past few months they know they need to return to the real world sooner rather than later. Master list can be found HERE.

Warnings/ Content: Unsurprisingly, more fluff. With a little feels too. 

Word Count: 1.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! We made it through the work week, woo! I, for one, am very thankful it’s over. I’ve been fighting this damn cold for days now and I just want to curl up with some tea and die for a bit. As soon as I post this I will be retreating under my blanket fort. Don’t judge me. But do enjoy this chapter of our boys finally returning to the real world. Also, this our last chapter before we meet our third main character :D

Chapter Five

January was bitter cold and Steve and Bucky both started going a little stir crazy after the third back to back snow storm. Steve was as healthy as he could be and he had even gotten over a totally normal cold with no complications shortly after New Years. Bucky had been completely over the top, mother-henning him endlessly from the first sniffle to the last cough, but he had only been sick for a few days before his immune system decided to do its job for a change and he recovered easily. 

Steve had been considering reaching out to Sam about getting a part time volunteer job at the local VA branch but he hadn’t actually done it yet. He was feeling cooped up and missed the satisfaction of a day spent helping people. Steve figured he could help out at the VA a few days a week and still have time for his art. He knew Bucky would make a fuss over him not pushing himself too much but Steve needed to feel useful again. He’d spend months getting used to his new life and he was ready to start giving back and help other guys settle back into their civilian lives. He was trying to figure out how to broach the subject when Bucky did it for him. 

“So Sam was telling me about the work he’s been doing with SHIELD down in El Salvador helping the city rebuild after the earthquake.” Bucky said conversationally over dinner one night. 

Steve raised an eyebrow, he knew that tone. Whatever Bucky was getting at wasn’t as casual as he was making it out to be. “Oh really?” Steve played along, wanting to see where it was going. 

“Yeah, they’re doing a lot of good work down there. Sam goes down and back on the Quinjet a few days a week, it’s not even three hours the way he flies. They still need so much help rebuilding the hospitals and schools, and getting the public services set back up. It’s sad more people aren’t doing more.” 

“Hmm. That’s good SHIELD has stepped in to help. And for Sam too.” 

“Steve, I want to help.” Bucky’s eyes were pleading for understanding and he waited quietly for Steve to react.

A wide smile stretched across Steve’s face, “It’s about damn time, Barnes.”

Bucky let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “It’ll be just a few days a week to start, and only helping alongside Sam. I haven’t agreed to go back on call for missions or anything yet…You’re really not upset I want to go back to work?”

“Of course not! I knew it was only a matter of time before we had to venture back out into the world. I’ve been thinking about volunteering over at the VA part time, just to get back out there. I wasn’t sure how to tell you but, with you going back to work, now you won’t have to worry about me being cooped up at home all day while you’re gone.” 

“I didn’t know you were thinking about volunteering. I think it’s a great idea though. Did you talk to Sam yet? I’m sure he’ll get you hooked up with a position.” 

“Not yet, I wanted to talk to you first. I’ll call him in the morning and see what he can do. Does he know you’re looking to go back?”

“No, but Fury does. I asked him what I’d need to do if I theoretically wanted to end my sabbatical but not go back to full active status.” 

“And what did he say to that?”

“Pick up a damn phone.” Bucky said in a terrible Nick Fury impression. 

Steve laughed, “Sounds about right.” 

“I’ll call him tomorrow and see when the next group is going down.” 

“Sam’ll be happy to have you back on the team.” 

“Yeah, it’ll be good. We’re gonna be okay, aren’t we?” Bucky sounded so hopeful it made Steve’s heart clench. He loved this man so much; the boy who defended him against bullies when he was too small to defend himself, the man who gave him love and care after his ma died far too young, the soldier who followed him into battle so selflessly, the assassin who after seventy years of torture and brainwashing had broken through all of that to remember Steve and pull him from the Potomac, his best friend, his lover, his partner in every sense of the word. “Yeah, Buck.” He said finally, “As long as we’re together, everything's gonna be just fine.”

xxXxx

Steve and Bucky rejoined society on the same cold Tuesday in February. Bucky’s alarm sounded while it was still dark outside and he tried to shut it off quickly to not disturb Steve. Thankfully he barely stirred, his good ear pressed into his pillow and his hearing aid resting on the nightstand, out for the night while he slept. Bucky dressed quickly in the dark and kissed Steve’s forehead lightly before he slipped from the bedroom. He made a pot of coffee and left it on the warmer for Steve to enjoy the rest when he woke up later. Bucky scrawled a note for Steve wishing him a good first day and reminding him to text or call if he needed anything, leaving it by the coffee pot where he would be sure to see it. Bucky stared at the quiet apartment for a moment as he pulled on his winter coat. They had a nice life together but wondered absently if maybe they should get a cat or something. Just a warm happy creature to keep them company when the other was out. Pushing the thought aside he hurried off into the cold to meet Sam at the compound by six. 

Steve woke up while Bucky was in the air somewhere over the North Atlantic. He sent him a picture of himself holding up Bucky’s favorite Star Trek mug, smiling with his hair in disarray from sleep, along with a quick text. 

Stevie G [7:06:18AM]: IMG.29348

Stevie G [7:06:20AM]: Thanks for the coffee! :) 

Jerkface [7:07:10AM]: np have a good 1st day luv u

Stevie G [7:07:40AM]: You too. XOXO 

Steve was still smiling when he left the apartment for work, ready to tackle his first day back in the world. 

It was late when Bucky got home but Steve was still awake watching a documentary on Georgia O’Keeffe. 

“Hey, you didn’t have to wait up for me.” Bucky said as he hung his coat by the door.

“It was our first day, of course I did. I saved you dinner too if you’re hungry.” Steve offered, turning off the TV. 

“We grabbed dinner before we headed back but thanks. Maybe you can take it with you tomorrow for lunch?” 

“Maybe. I found a deli down the street from the VA today and I had the best pastrami sandwich of my life. I’m taking you there this weekend.” 

“Sounds great. As much as I missed you, I’m beat. How about we go curl up under the blankets and you can tell me all about your day?” 

“You just wanna get me in bed.” Steve teased pulling Bucky close to him. He lifted up on his tip toes and kissed Bucky until he let out a soft moan. 

“Says the guy kissin’ me ‘til my toes curl.” Bucky teased back. “Come on, ya punk.” He swept Steve up in his arms and carried him off to bed where they could relax, catch up, and then get back to where that kiss had been leading.

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder​ @remilupin22​ @supraveng​ @hiddles-rose​

If anyone wants added or removed please lmk!

[mercysingstheblues]

This Christmas || Samcedes

Who: Sam & Mercedes Evans, family and friends.  When: 3 Years Later Where: Samcedes’ Household What: A look into the future as Samcedes host a Christmas gathering for their friends and family. 

Mercedes: “Red or green?” Mercedes asked her daughter as she held up two different bows from her dresser. The preteen studied carefully as she pretended to be in deep thought. “Green,” she answered with a doubtful smile. “Red,” she came again looking more satisfied with her answer. “How about we do both?” Mercedes settled as she made her way to the bed where both her children sat. “She likes when o do pigtails anyway so might as well stick to what works.” She handed the red bow to Sammie who went to work helping her perfect her little sister’s hair. “Are you excited to see everyone?” She asked making small talk. “Yes! Grandpa said he something really special for me. I think it’s a car.” Mercedes side eyed her daughter with a shake of her head. “You are 12, I can guarantee you it isn’t a car.” She smiled at the pout of her child’s lips as she continued to twist Grace’s hair. “Fine, then I’ll settle for nothing less than Beyonce tickets. Floor seats.” “Negotiate a ticket for your mom and I’ll throw in dinner at your favorite restaurant.” Mercedes added. She was definitely her child. They made quick work and Mercedes asked Sammie if she would take her sister downstairs and she would join shortly. She did her makeup not really caring to look extra spiffy. She was tired and her feet were too swollen for her to worry about looking cute. After being satisfied with her attire she finally made her way down the stairs spotting Sam laughing it up with Quinn. She smiled at the sight in front her knowing Sam had to be doing one of his many impressions by the look on Quinn’s face. “Any chance he’s coming tonight?” A voice met her as she made it to the bottom. “God I hope so. I’m so ready for him to be out. Grace came early three weeks at that. Sammie was five days early but this one doesn’t want to seem to leave.” She hugged Finn who helped her down the last two steps. “Well I’ll be 50 dollars richer if he does. So maybe put in a good word for me?” She laughed at his reply. “I make no promises but I’ll see what I can do.”

Sam: He teased Quinn mercilessly, making her blush as he imitated Mike being caught in the act by the practice nurses just the previous week. “I swear Quinn, I’ve never seen him so embarrassed! You’re gonna be giving me and Cedes some serious competition..” Quinn giggled in spite of herself and shook her head. “ I don’t think so- you’re still the King and Queen of Freak! I can’t believe you guys are on your third kid!” A tiny mew, came from the tiny bundle she held carefully in her arms. “Seems like he’s waking up..Better go feed him..” she chuckled a little self consciously and he grinned, peering down at the newest addition to his best friend’s family. “Jeez he looks so much like Mike...Lizzie looks a little more like you, but Oliver has Mike all over him..” Fixing her with a serious look as his smile faded he asked her softly, “You happy?” Quinn nodded, smiling widely. “I’m so happy Sam...Thank you..” she reached out, laying her hand on his, “ You didn’t take advantage when I threw myself at you that time and I remember what you told me then- that Mike would find a way..and he did..” Sam shook his head slowly, “ No need to thank me, Quinn. Just glad to see you guys happy and finally free of Kitty. Even Missy seems a lot happier and Sammie said she’s one of her best friends now.” Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek, saying “You guys deserve this..” Looking up, he bit his lip, hiding a grin as he spied his wife aiming down the stairs. He knew she was feeling pretty uncomfortable- she kept saying she felt like a stuffed butterball, but to him she was breathtakingly gorgeous as ever. He smiled as Finn, helped her down the last few steps, no trace of the former jealousy he’d once felt. She was his, had always been, even when he’d been too dumb to see it, and boy did it feel good. “I’ll leave you to your feeding..if you want some privacy you can use one of the guest rooms upstairs..” he told the blonde before making his way over to his wife and catching her around the waist. “Hey Hudson,” he greeted Finn jovially, before kissing his wife lingeringly on the lips. “Hmmm...I’ve gone too long without a kiss from you, gorgeous..” He bent down and gave her belly a gentle kiss. “How’s my little grinch doing?” he teased her as he straightened, his hand stroking the tight mound of her stomach over the soft material of her dress. “Oh God..think I’m gonna be sick,” Finn complained, grinning at his friend’s antics. “Whatever bro, I saw the tears you were crying on your wedding day..Rachel has you so damned whipped, “ Sam bantered back good naturedly, bursting into laughter as Rachel herself came up, threading her hand through Finn’s arm, and watching how the big guy softened to a big pile of jello as he gazed at his tiny wife.

Mercedes: softened in her husband’s arms.  This was one of the big changes they had made in strengthening their marriage and she loved the fact that them touching without any awkwardness was so simple and easy now.  So much they had missed out on being shy and far from transparent with one another.  Now was like a 180.  They communicated more, always talked things through and never left anything off the table.   Long gone was any need for jealousy when it came to him and Quinn and seeing them converse and laugh just now only warmed heart cause she herself got to know Quinn on a personal level and they had now become the best of friends.  These past three years not only did she rejuvenate her marriage but her friendship with Sam as well.  He was her ride or die and she couldn’t have been happier.  “Baby, don’t tease him.  I think it’s cute.  Two of my favorite people found love with one another and I got a Goddaughter out of it.  They’re perfect.”  She smiled at the couple in front of them.   She then turned her attention to her husband fixing her mouth with slight grimace.  “He’s still chillaxing like my womb is a utopian wonderland.”  She looked down at her extended belly as if she could will her labor through penetrating glares.  “Plus, I’m wearing slippers cause none of my fancy shoes fit. Also this baby and I voted and we refuse to be in any Christmas photos.” She folder her arms as of her word was final knowing she would never get away with that one.  

Sam: He laughed at the disgruntled expression on her face, sliding a hand into her hair and kissing the pout away from her lips. "You so are going to be in every Christmas photo..you're sexy and gorgeous and you know it.." It was amazing how much he loved her, he'd thought he'd known how much back when they were first married, but he'd soon learned how fathomless everything he felt for her was. He felt the clap on his shoulder that indicated his father was standing behind them and wrapping his arms around his wife he turned to see his parents and in-laws standing in front of them. "Don't you ever get tired of kissin’ up on your wife?" his dad asked, shaking his head. "Nope," he retorted, pressing another kiss to her soft lips. "Not at all..And before you say it," he fixed his mother and his mother-in-law with a look, "we are not doomed..In fact I think you can safely say, we're exactly where we want to be.." Mr Jones threw back his head and laughed. "That told you, sweetheart," he said to his wife, grinning. "I always knew, though, you two were meant for each other. I'd never have let you marry her if I hadn't have known that." Mrs Jones smiled nodding "I think we can say that three children in, you are definitely sticking together. One might have been an accident..but three? That has to have been on purpose.”

Mercedes: “Three kids and 13 years,” Mercedes added.  Despite them not being all glorious years of marriage she was still for the time she had with Sam.  They stuck together through thick and thin and what probably would be the toughest test to their marriage and they survived.  “I’m still questioning how you gave away my hand in marriage to a seven year old dad.”  “It was easy, watching the two of you interact when y’all were younger.  It was obvious he was hooked.  He had that same look in his eyes I had when I met your mother.  The look that he had just found his match.” Mr. Jones admitted.  “What a lovely match y’all are.” Mr. Evans chimed in.  “Yes, thank you for making our son so happy.  Thanks for the beautiful grandkids.” His wife added. “I’m just glad we are finally getting a boy.  For a moment I thought I chose wrong when we got two girls back to back,” Mr. Jones joked receiving a nudge from his wife.  “Dad!” Mercedes fussed.  “Oh stop you know I love my baby girls from the moon and back.  I only kid.”  Mercedes shook her head with a warm smile as she rested her head on Sam’s shoulder surveying the scene in front of her.  She was surrounded by family and friends that she loved and adored and felt like at that moment she couldn’t be any happier.

Sam: He gently pulled her away from their parents, his arms around her guiding her to stand by the huge Christmas tree the dominated their entrance hall at the foot of the stairs, festively decorated in gold and red. “It’s great to see everyone happy and whole..I thought for a time Mike and Quinn would never get their shit straight..Kitty certainly made it difficult for them..but now that she’s marrying that Ben Israel geek, she could wait to give them full custody of Missy and go after his millions. Always said she was deadlier than a rattlesnake that one. I’m stoked to finally see that back of her.” He turned her slightly towards him, eyes twinkling devilishly, a smirk twisting his lips. “You wanna know how to induce labour?” He whispered conspiratorially, lips brushing her ear as he leaned in towards her, then dropping his head down to nuzzle her collarbone. “Wild, rampant, hot sex..so what do you say?  Everyone’s busy eating..talking..whatever..they’ll never miss us...Just you, me, upstairs in that big old bed..” he grinned enticingly, tugging her towards the stairs, threading his fingers through hers. “If it works, then amazeballs..but if not...try, try and try again..not to mention, it’s good practice for the next one..” Clearly, he reflected, much later on, in the early hours of Christmas Day, watching his wife hold their newborn baby boy, that old wives tale had worked a trick very nicely...He picked up her hand as she held the baby in the crook of her arms and kissed it gently, with all the love that he felt for her now and always. “Thank you, Cedes...not just for this...but for all of the Christmases that have gone before..”

[bourbonboredom]

Bachelorette Party III

This was originally going to be a one shot, then I realized I’m basically incapable of keeping things brief.

A ClydexReader fanfic

Part I   Part II   Part III

Summary: You’re back in Boone County for the first time in seven years. Your best friend from high school is getting married and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. On her last night of freedom, the bachelorette drags her bridal party to Duck Tape as a final stop on their bar crawl. It’s under the dimmed lights that you see your high school friend/high school crush, Clyde Logan. Is it fate? Or is your friend just trying to set you up?

Word Count: 2,853

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW my dudes

@a-whole-damn-sackler​ @sadsexvibes @ladygrey03​ 

When you were traveling back to Boone County for the week you didn’t expect to run into your high school crush, much less be making out with him on his couch. You were half-trying to process the fact that he liked you as much as you liked him and you were both too afraid to say anything, and half-trying to kiss him with enough passion to make up for the last decade.

His hands dropped to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. The kiss became more frantic, the two of you trying to recompense all the pining. You bridged the gap between your bodies, moving to straddle his lap. He nips at your lower lip, making you gasp and arch your back. Your core brushed against the front of his jeans, letting you feel his half-hard length through the denim.

“Somethin’ tells me you’ve been wanting more than just kissin’,” you smile, grinding down on him.

His grip on your hips tightens and he fights back a moan.

“Can you blame me? Comin’ into my bar in that cute lil outfit? And when you put my coat on?” he couldn’t hold back the moan as you ground on him once again.

“You liked that? I can keep it on if you like,” you bit your lip as you stared down at him. His coat was pretty big on you, but you weren't opposed to wearing it. It made you feel like you were really his girl.

“No sweetheart, I want it off,” he growled, “I was all your clothes off,”

“Only if yours come off too,” you felt your voice get rougher with lust. You slid his coat off your frame, letting it fall to the floor beneath you.

He slowly moved his hands to undress you, finding himself hesitating at your zipper. He looked up at you, brow furrowing once more.

“Do you really want this?” he asked. “I feel like I’m dreamin’. I-I’ve been dreamin’ about this for so long I just—“

“Clyde, of course I want this. This is real, big guy,” you cradle his face in your hands, tracing over a beauty mark with your finger. You press a chaste kiss to his lips and let your hands glide over his chest. “If you don’t wanna do this, I get it, we can take it slow,”

“I don’t think I wanna take it slow,” he whispered, touching his nose to yours.

You smiled and kissed him again. He worked on your zipper, slowly shedding the clothes from your figure. Your hands worked on unbuttoning his shirt, pressing your hands to his bare skin as you went. As you reached the last button your hands dipped lower to his belt. You made quick work of removing his pants, revealing the tent in his boxers. Clyde was nipping at the swell of your breasts as he unhooked your bra, leaving you in only your underwear. As the lace fell to the floor, he let out a low moan.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he grabbed each breast. One with the calloused flesh of his right hand, and one with the cool metal of his left hand, making you shiver in his touch. He flicked a finger over each of your nipples and you squirmed.

Your hips bucked into his, your nerves on edge as you felt him twitch inside his boxers. You began to move in slow circles, loving the way the tip of his cock would catch your clit. You felt as a wet patch formed in your underwear and slowly spread to his. You stop to tug his boxers off, he lifts his hips to help you.

His cock bobs as its freed from the fabric. You stop for a moment to look at it. Clyde has always been a tall man, which left you wondering about what he was packing. He definitely didn’t disappoint. He was big, with the tip blushing such a pretty shade of pink. You noticed the droplets of precum gathering at the slit and you reached down to collect them on your finger. He groaned at the contact, and groaned again as he watched you lick them off. You looked at him through your lashes, enjoying how just a simple motion could get him this riled up.

“Can I suck you off?” you ask, ghosting your fingers over the head of his cock. You watched his jaw drop but he was unable to make and sound, so you settled for him nodding.

You move between his legs on the floor in front of where he sat, resting on your knees. You looked up at him as you stroked him slowly, watching his cheeks get pinker and pinker. You give a tentative lick to the head, making him bite his lip. Slowly, you wrap your lips round him, hand staying at the base to steady yourself as you took him deeper into your mouth. You knew you weren’t going to be able to take all of him, he was too big for you to try to deepthroat. You moved your hand at the base of his cock, matching the pace you set with your mouth.

Once you had a good pace, you looked back up at him. He stared down at you, eyes half closed, his good hand clutching at the fabric of the couch. His chest was rising and falling and he was struggling to not make any noise, letting out quiet moans as you hollowed your cheeks around him. You moved off him with a pop, holding his cock as you licked from the base of his shaft up over the head, circling your tongue around his slit. His hand flew to your hair and the noises became louder. His head tipped back and his eyes squeezed shut as you continued.

It didn’t take long for his grip to get tighter in your hair, his thigh muscles tightening as you stroked them with your free hand. You took him as deep as you could as you reached down to play with his balls. He hisses at the contact and he bucks into your mouth, making a trail of drool run down his cock. You pick up your pace, wanting to watch him come undone in front of you. Suddenly the hand in his hair tugs at you, motioning for you to pull off. You look up at him, waiting to see what he wanted.

“Darlin’ I’m gettin’ close and I wanna make sure I take care of you before I get to cummin’,” his voice shakes as he tried to calm himself.

“Take care of me, huh?” you grin. You kiss your way up his shaft as you speak. “Why don’t you show me your bedroom so we can do this properly?”

You let go of his cock and begin to stand up. His coat brushed your leg as you stood, you’d forgotten that it wound up on the floor. A thought suddenly crossed your mind and you picked it back up, shrugging it back on to your body. Clyde sat wide-eyed as you stood before him wearing only his coat and your lace panties. The sleeves went past your fingertips and the shoulders barely fit yours, causing it to slip down and give him a peak of your breasts.

“Darlin’?” it came out as quiet as a breath.

“Y’know, I think I like this coat. It’s so warm,” you say, stepping closer to him as you spoke. “Do you wanna keep me warm too?”

Before you had the chance to figure out what happened the view of his trailer turned upside down. In one quick motion he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, walking towards his bedroom. You smile as he sets you down on his bed, bouncing slightly on contact. He stands over you as you lay on your back, letting the coat open so he can get a better view.

His body covers yours in the next instant, his hands moving to either side of your head as he presses kisses to anywhere he can reach.

“Fuck. Sweetheart. Lookit you. Wearin’ my clothes and nothin’ else. Lookin’. So. Damn. Perfect.” he said between kisses. He pushed the fabric of the coat away to cover every inch of skin with his lips.

You weren’t used to Clyde talking like that. He was always exceedingly polite when speaking to people. You think you could count the number of times you’ve heard him curse on just your two hands. But you liked hearing him talk like that. Being so lost in his lust for you that his mouth gets a little filthy. You wanted more.

“Clyde, please. I want you so bad, please fuck me,” you whined, grabbing ahold of his dark locks as he kissed the inside of your thigh.

The kiss turned into him nipping at the delicate skin in a way you knew would cause bruises later. His attention went to your underwear, sliding the lacy fabric off your body as you threw his coat to the side. You watched his chest rise and fall as he moved back up your body to kiss you.

“I’m gonna give you what you want babygirl. Shit, I would rub myself raw thinkin’ about doin’ this with you when I was overseas. Gonna make you feel so good,” he trailed his fingers around your core, feeling how you were dripping just for him.

Two of his fingers slid inside you, scissoring your walls to stretch you out. After seeing his dick earlier, you knew you were gonna need it. Even his fingers were large, making you bite your lip in order to stop from moaning.

“I wanna hear you, lemme hear how good I make you feel,” his thumb went to your clit, drawing tight circles over and over. You felt the pleasure in you building.

“Clyde please! I wanna feel you inside me, I want your cock!” you cry, feeling dangerously close to climax. You wanted to cum with him inside you, you wanted to feel all of him.

“How can I say no to you?” he pulled out his fingers, wrapping his hand around his cock as his other hand nudged your legs further apart.

He lined himself up with your entrance, gathering your precum on the tip of his cock before slowly pushing in. Your hands clutched his biceps as you felt him sink into you. He stretched your pussy, filling up every inch of you until your hips met the base of his shaft. His body was tense as he fought to control himself, keeping still so you could adjust to him. He peppered your face with kisses while he waited, whispering praises into your ear.

“God you feel so good sweetheart, you’re so perfect,” he groaned quietly, feeling your pussy contract around him. “Tell me when you're ready, I don’t want to hurt you,”

You nodded, letting him know you heard him. You took a few measured breaths, letting yourself get used to him. You hooked your legs around his back and slowly pushed his hips forward. He kissed your neck as he began to set the pace. He took his time, letting himself feel every inch of you. He propped himself on his elbows so he could look at you, gaze into your eyes and you whimpered out his name.

Your hands left his biceps in favor of wrapping around his neck. You bridged the gap between the two of you, kissing him with ten years of pent-up passion. You didn’t have the words for how good this felt, how right this felt. His hips began to rock into you faster and you tried to silence your moans with his lips, feeling yourself getting close to climax once more.

“I’m not gonna last long,” you tell him, feeling your body start to tighten.

“Me either,” he eyes screwed shut. He fucked into you faster, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the air.

You wrapped your legs around him tighter, trying to draw him as close as possible. The change in angle had the tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. He reached between the two of you with his good hand to let his fingers tease your clit. You felt like you were about to burst from pleasure.

“Clyde!” you all but screamed, your nails raking over his back.

“Thats it, cum for me, lemme feel you squeezin’ me,” his voice was rough from exertion.

“Clyde, fuck!” you saw stars, his fingers rubbing over you in just the right way to make you come undone.

“Fuuuck!” you felt his hips start to stutter, his rhythm being interrupted in favor of burying himself as deep inside your pussy as possible.

You came hard, not being able to focus on anything but your cunt seizing around his cock, milking him toward his own orgasm. He called your name as he came inside you, coating your walls with his seed.

You both came down from the high, becoming more aware of your surroundings. You caught your breath, loosening the vice grip your legs had on his hips. He drew himself from you, dick twitching as he watched his cum drip out of you. He let out a low groan before looking back at you.

You looked at Clyde, in disbelief of what just happened. You look at his face, in awe of how much had changed in the last ten years, and how little had changed. His strong nose, his dark eyes, the freckles that dotted his skin, he was as handsome as the day you met him. His lips parted as he tried to catch his breath and you stifle a giggle. But you can’t hold it and suddenly your peels of laughter fill the room.

“Oh my god!”

He looks at you in confusion, his mouth frowning with concern.

“Darlin’?” he asks. You giggle as you rest a hand on his cheek, the other going to your mouth to contain your grin.

“Your tongue is still blue from the slushie,” you tell him, laughing from a mixture of amusement and pure bliss.

He takes a minute to register what you had told him, and then smiles when he realizes. He laughs with you, giving you another glimpse of his blue-stained tongue. It sends you into another bout of mirth. You kiss him again, this time sweetly. You pulled each other into your arms, relishing in finally putting all that pining to bed. You were both exhausted, feeling the early morning hours catch up to you.

You jump as the sound of your phone ringing fills the otherwise quiet trailer. You slip yourself off the bed, walking over to your cellphone still sitting on his coffee table. The caller ID shows you it Sarah, the time shows you its almost 5am.

“Hello?” you answer the phone on the fourth ring.

“Hey, are you okay? You haven't come home yet,” she sounded slightly concerned. You love her, but it serves her right for leaving you behind with a guy you haven't seen in years.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m with Clyde, we’ve been catching up,”

“Ooh catching up or catching up?” you rolled your eyes even though she couldn't see. Clyde came out from the bedroom to stand behind you and envelope you with a hug, pressing his naked frame against yours. You rested your head against his chest, smiling up at him as you spoke to your friend.

“I’ll fill you in tomorrow, I’m pretty tired and was just about to go to bed,”

“Ooh you definitely have to fill me in then!” she squealed.

“Goodnight Sarah,” you’re just about to hang up when you put the phone back to your ear. “Oh! And thank for all the snacks!”

“What sn—” is all she gets in before you hang up. You out your phone down and turn around in his arms, wrapping yours around his large torso.

“Gettin’ tired?” he asked.

“Mhm, let’s get to bed big guy,”

The two of you all back to his bed, drawing the cover up over you. Putting clothes back on seemed pointless and you preferred to have him naked as he spooned you. He was warm against you and you knew in that moment you were gonna take every opportunity you could to cuddle like this.

“We were really stupid teenagers, huh?” you ask.

“We were, but I think that’s okay,” he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I think it was probably meant to happen now. We’re more mature now, less likely to mess it up,”

You smile as you realize he was back to being polite Clyde. No more cursing from him for the night. You’d have to wait for the next round, you were hoping there would be another one.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” you smile to yourself. “I’m glad it happened now,”

You felt him smile into your neck, his breath tickling you.

“Me too darlin’, me too,”

[rue-by-another-name]

Love Me Do - h.s. a.u. one shot

You met him at a low point, and looking back on that it was probably for both your own good. You met him after 21 years of being single, being the single best friend, being the awkward third wheel, and being the obligatory best friend that was always there for advice and encouragement and comfort, but never comforted yourself.

You were tired of being single. You were tired of the hole in your heart and the tingling heavy feeling of longing for someone to hold. All you wanted was for someone to be worried about you, to talk about you to others in a loving way, to get nervous around you because of their feelings.

You watched a lot of TV and cinema. It was your true passion to direct and be involved in the film industry. Cinematography was your guilty pleasure of a lifestyle you longed for, and film school wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to be in the big leagues, but instead you were just the coffee girl assisting your professors for extra credit and learning their coffee orders by heart.

But mostly, you were lonely.

You weren’t really a drinker, but you liked fruity drinks that made you buzzed enough to forget about your lack of a relationship – any relationship. You were tired of always pining, always wondering, and always ending every day alone.

Sliding into the bar of the small joint down the street from your flat, your mind was reeling at the fact that your friend Bea had broken up with one boy and was already onto the next not three weeks later. How? How did that happen? How were you always alone?

“You’re new.”

The voice broke you from your thoughts as you looked up to see the bartender standing in front of you, arms behind his back and dishrag tossed over the shoulder of his tucked in black shirt as he cocked his head to the side and seemed to be regarding you shamelessly.

He was cute, and where you would usually start to already concoct some elaborate and cheesy storyline in your head on how a script would play out on a screen between the two of you, your mind went blank. You were tired of getting your hopes up, emotionally attaching yourself to even strangers just to run a scenario for a potential relationship through your void. This boy was out of your league, and you were tired.

“I don’t drink much,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes and resting your elbow on the bar as you leaned on it.

“But it’s one of those nights?” he asked, nodding as your shrugged your shoulders half-heartedly and looked at the menu.

“Could I do an old-fashioned please?” you grumbled, pulling out your phone to scroll through Instagram before thinking otherwise. The bartender noticed your stopped movements as he pulled the necessary bottles from behind him.

“So are you trying to forget someone or what?” he asked. “M’Arry by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Harry I’m trying to forget myself,” you said honestly, resting your forehead on the bar in defeat as Harry smirked at your presence. He placed the drink on front of you before nudging your shoulder to let you know it was ready.

You lifted the drink to your lips and Harry instantly knew you didn’t like it. “So you really don’t drink then,” he chuckled, watching as you attempted to take another sip stubbornly.

“M’just not …” you trailed off before pinching the bridge of your nose. You were really trying to keep it all in and Harry was no stranger to emotional girls at his bar, but there was something far more intimate and fragile about you that concerned him a bit.

You were cute, but not someone that would have stuck out to Harry instantly upon your arrival. It had taken him a moment before he realized you were sitting at the bar, and he had been around and witness to enough social situations to know that you were the best friend. You were the one that was always there but never there with anyone. You were the friend that took the group picture but never was really in one.

You were the girl who thought going to a bar would be a good idea but didn’t like alcohol.

“Well,” Harry sighed and took the drink back, cocking his head back and downing it himself. “If you need anything else, let me know.” He left you there at the bar with a glass of water and a bowl of lemons to spice things up before making his rounds and going back over to his regular customers.

Harry had been working here for ages, and though he loved his job and loved the company he kept, he was itching for the days when his struggling acting career would stop being such a struggle. He was tired of this ‘struggling artist’ shit and was ready to just move on with his life.

Whenever that would be.

“Tha’one looks a wreck,” Niall chuckled as Harry walked back over to where his good friend had his hand lazily and permanently wrapped around a beer. Harry looked over his shoulder to where you were running your pointer finger around the tip of your water cup while scrolling through your phone.

“Is that water?” Niall asked, scrunching his eyes as if to get a better look.

“She doesn’t like alcohol,” Harry chuckled.

Niall smirked, “Nah. She just hasn’t been introduced to the right kind yet. Everyone likes alcohol.”

“You like alcohol enough for everyone,” Harry responded.

“Do ya think she should be looked after?” Niall asked, “Should I go over an’ask if she’s okay?”

Harry regarded you for a moment, the way your makeup was slightly smudged from the brimming tears before he turned back to Niall and bit his bottom lip. “Don’t think tha’d be a good idea mate.”

“S’usually your thing though innit?” Niall asked, “Kissin’ on the emotional ones.”

Harry smacked Niall’s shoulder with his towel as Niall howled from his own joke and Harry rolled his eyes. Sure, Harry was known to pick up a girl or two from time to time. Girls liked bartenders and Harry’s face was perfectly symmetrical – something even science declared to be beautiful – so he didn’t usually have an issue with picking up women.

Harry would admit that things had been a bit slow lately, but you just seemed far too emotional and fragile to be a one night stand or back alley hook-up. So Harry let you be for the night, always coming by with the water pitcher to help you hydrate whenever he was walking around helping other customers. He slide you the bowl of pretzels for you to munch on, and though not many words were said as the night went on, a certain agreement was made between the two of you.

You left though before Harry was packing up. He usually liked talking to customers as he closed the bar early in the morning and something had made him think you’d still be around. But he turned to refill your glass and found you gone around 12:30 with a couple of bucks under the empty pretzel bowl.

But for you, you hadn’t left early enough. You got swept up in your assignment readings on your phone and scrolling through social media and before you knew it you were still sitting at the bar past midnight and you really needed to get to bed for your morning class. You were too embarrassed to say anything to the bartender so you slide out as quietly as possible – something you were good at – and walked down the street to the lobby of your building.

Fridays were always pretty chill considering you only had one class, but it was with Bea and she was always doing her makeup and talking about her new beau and, though you adored her immensely, you were slowly starting to become numb to all of this as your self-diagnosis of a forever single woman settled into your brain.

“Where did you even go last night?” Bea asked, wiggling her nose as she finished applying highlighter. “You came back way later than usual.”

“I was at a bar actually,” you mumbled, checking the playback monitor of the camera you were focused on for your set design class. The studio looked like Mars for the upcoming student film being shot, and checking lighting had never been the most fun thing for you. But the shadows on the rocks were angled oddly on the monitor and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“A bar?” Bea raised an eyebrow. “By yourself?”

“I sat there and did some assignments. I don’t know,” you shrugged, “The bartender gave me pretzels.”

“The bartender, huh?” Bea smirked, “Was he cute?”

“Yeah he was cute,” you said honestly, “Too cute.”

“Did you talk with him?” Now Bea was full probing you for answers and you were too over it to even give a single fuck.

“Not really. I ordered a drink and didn’t like it and I’m pretty sure that offended him. We didn’t talk the rest of the night,” you shrugged, “But he gave me pretzels.”

“You mentioned that.”

“Well that was all that happened.”

“Well,” Bea turned to you and handed you the lens you were reaching out for. “It’s a Friday night! We could go again if you’d like and I could bring Gav and we can all go party or something?”

“I don’t know I’m kind of tired.”

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll meet someone!” Bea tugged at your arm. At this point she was just starting to make a scene.

“Bea,” you groaned, “I’m not going out tonight!”

And that’s how you found yourself entering the much more lively bar with Bea and Gav and your other friend Millie later that evening. Harry was behind the bar again, soaking up the energy of the place now that it was much more full kicking off the weekend. You saw him laughing at something a guy was saying and it was a full laugh too – eyes wide, nose scrunched, head tilting back and hand on stomach – fuck he was too gorgeous for words. Your single heart weighed heavy in your chest.

“Is that the bartender from last night?” Bea asked over the music. You simply nodded, checking your phone and pretending to read an email.

Bea squealed, “Then let’s go order drinks!”

“No I –” you started but Millie had already grabbed your arm and was tugging you after Bea and Gav towards the bar.

“Hi!” Millie smiled at Harry as the two of you snuck your way through the seats to lean against the bar. Harry turned and smiled at Millie with what you could only consider to be genuine. Millie was a gorgeous girl no doubt with her long perfectly curled hair and freckles. She wore huge glasses that framed her face well, and her style was impeccable. She wanted to be a model, and you wanted to curl under a rock and sleep forever.

“Hey there,” Harry smiled and leaned forward on the bar as Millie observed him with a twinkle in her eye. “What can I getcha?” he asked.

“Vodka shots would be fabulous thank you,” Millie smiled. You just stood next to her, wondering if Harry was even going to look your way or even recognize you, but he’d yet to even register your existence.

Awesome.

“Would you like anything Y/N?” Millie called over the music, turning to you as Bea nudged you from behind once Harry’s eyes finally turned to you.

You gave Harry a small smile as his eyes lingered for a moment. He recognized you, he’d have to be stupid not to considering you’d just been here the day before, and he smirked when he noticed that your friends had most definitely dragged you here.

“I told my friends there was a cute bartender here and now I have to wait until they’re all drunk enough to leave and watch Game of Thrones like I’d planned,” you said bluntly.

You weren’t entirely sure what switch had gone off inside you, or what was fueling your angered emotions, but there was something so perfect and dazzling about all the people around you that you knew there wasn’t any hope for you to find someone tonight to link onto. There was no point to try, and so you didn’t even try to stand up straighter or lean suggestively against the bar. You just sat down and swiveled from side to side as Millie and Bea stared at you in awe.

Harry didn’t even flinch from your statement. He merely smiled before reaching down and grabbing a bowl of pretzels and sliding them towards you. “Y/N,” Harry nodded now that he’d heard your name from Millie, “Can I get you a water?”

“Lemonade please,” you grumbled before Harry nodded and walked away.

“What is your problem?” Bea groaned, resting her forehead against Gavin’s shoulder as if the world was ending, “You completely just blew it.”

“This is ridiculous,” you protested, munching on a pretzel and sliding a napkin towards you as Millie hopped onto the seat next to you.

“You two go ahead,” she said, pushing Bea and Gav towards the dance floor, “I’ll sit with Miss Mopey.”

You rolled your eyes as Harry returned with the vodka shots and a lemonade, placing yours before you before handing the shots to Millie. “Bottoms up,” he winked at her before the knocked the shots down together. Turning to you, he tilted your lemonade cup a bit as your eyes widened at fear of it spilling all over you.

“You too Y/N love,” he smirked, “Wouldn’t want the designated driver to get dehydrated.”

“Oh we walked here,” Millie smiled, “We live down the street.”

“Students then?” Harry asked, leaning on the bar now so he was more privately in a conversation with Millie. You just sat there, sipping your drink and nibbling on pretzels as you watched the interaction.

“The performing arts college yeah,” Millie smiled, “Are you a student too?”

“No just finished last semester,” Harry nodded, “Acting.”

“Oh!” Millie’s eyes lit up, “I’m in acting too! Well, I mean I want to go into modeling but there’s not really a degree for that, you know?”

“You’re fit for the part,” Harry winked, standing back up fully and helping a guy that had asked for a beer.

“And Y/N?” Harry asked. You looked up and raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” you nodded, “Still here.”

Millie visibly looked uncomfortable and you fiddled with the straw in your glass.

“No,” Harry chuckled, “What are you studying?”

You stared at him, almost as if challenging him to look away. Did he really care? Or was he just being polite to Millie’s friend so he could get in her pants for being a nice boy?

“I’m studying film,” you finally said, “I find directorial work to be fascinating.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, “Really? Yeah it’s pretty cool. I took a couple classes while I was there mostly to get a better all-around feel for it if I ever end up on a set myself. Did you ever have Gleason?”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not dead yet.”

“Well he worked with Sco –”

“Scorsese. Yeah crazy. I kind of think he’s lying about it though to get some street cred. I asked him once about Casino and it was like talking to a brick wall.”

“That’s because Casino is shit.”

You couldn’t believe your ears as you watched Harry’s smug face. “You take that back,” you hissed.

“The Aviator is way better,” Harry shrugged, “Top notch.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned, shaking your head.

Harry just smiled and refilled Millie’s shot. “Well have a great night ladies. If you need anything, just let me know.”

You watched as Harry walked away, still in awe of the conversation that just happened but also just pissed that nothing else came from it. Here you were again making a great connection with someone that fell through almost as quickly as it began.

Again.

“He’s hot,” Millie mumbled before doing another shot, “I want him.”

You didn’t want to feel territorial or jealous at Millie’s statement. She was a beautiful and confident girl who had had quite the normal amount of dating experience in the past. And to her, Harry was obtainable.

You, however, would have to sit through another whole night of awkward conversation with guys and dancing by yourself. So all you could do was wish Millie luck.

It didn’t take long after that for you to go home. You finished your lemonade and Harry wasn’t around as much as he had been the night before considering the amount of people, and so you didn’t expect him to come around and refill it again. You left the empty pretzel bowl and glass with your money before telling your dancing friends that you would be going back home now.

Neither of them protested since they were already caught up in other people, and so you spent the night reading a book before falling asleep. It was simple and a bit lonely, but how you would rather spend a Friday night.

Saturday morning you found yourself in the kitchen stirring sugar into your coffee as you read a book. It was quiet, just the way you liked it, and you didn’t expect Millie or Bea to be up at any time soon. So you were surprised when you heard footsteps coming down the hall.

“Good morning Y/N.”

You turned rather quickly, eyes wide as you recognized Harry’s voice before you even needed to see him. It was the first time the two of you were in the same room and not divided by a bar between the two of you, yet you were reminded that he was only here because he’d slept with Millie and suddenly all hope you’d had earlier was lost.

“Good morning,” you said, getting over your initial shock before placing your book on the counter and reaching for another mug. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Absolutely. That would be great,” Harry nodded, sitting down now at your kitchen counter. There was something almost poetic about the fact that you were now serving Harry and you tried not to make awkward conversation about it but instead decided to remain silent.

“Did you have a good night last night?” Harry asked, lifting the mug to his lips as he eyed your pajamas. All you were wearing was a large t-shirt with a significant amount of holes in it. It was an old firefighter’s t-shirt from what he could tell and you looked pretty adorable in it.

Not that he would ever tell you that. You also kind of looked a mess.

“It wasn’t bad,” you sighed, leaning against the counter, “Took some notes. Got some work done.”

“You didn’t stay long?” Harry asked.

“No I left rather early.”

Harry nodded at this, clearing his throat as he looked down at his coffee mug. Finally, he decided to speak, “Not in a rude way or anything, but you just don’t seem to like me very much.”

You blinked at him, turning back considering you were almost half way out of the kitchen at this point. “Oh,” you bit your lip, “No. No I’m sorry it’s not you or anything. Wow uh … have I really seemed super bitchy to you?”

Harry smirked as he turned to you and shrugged, “I mean, just distant I guess. Not amused.”

You felt the guilt seeping in your bones as your ran a hand along your forehead. “No, I’m sorry Harry it’s not anything personal. It’s just been a bit of a rough go for me, is all.”

“Hope everything’s alright,” Harry nodded, “From one stranger to another.”

You chuckled and stubbed your toes against the floor awkwardly. “Thank you. Yeah, I promise I find nothing annoying about you. Except for the fact that you disrupted my morning time before the others wake up.”

“They won’t be up for a while,” Harry smirked, “We got in pretty late.”

“And I’m sure got to sleep much later after that,” you mumbled, hiding your face behind your mug as Harry just stared at you.

“Well,” you sighed, “I’m probably going to go and get breakfast soon. If you’d like to join me then you’re free to tag along. If not, you can just give me your order and I’ll pick it up with everyone else’s.”

Harry checked his watch. “I’d love to stay but I actually have to be somewhere. Thanks though.”

You internally punched yourself. Of course he had somewhere to be. This wasn’t a romcom where the best friend and the soon-to-be boyfriend of the friend go out and get breakfast together and bond before falling in love. Real life was nothing like movies.

“Sounds good. See you around then,” you said curtly before making your way briskly towards your room.

And you didn’t see Harry for another week. Millie didn’t mention him and neither Bea nor Millie suggested going to the bar at all. Your week was spent going over screen tests and going through the rigorous activity of scene boards through mountains of coffee.

On Thursday night you found yourself stranded from your own flat. Bea and Gav were having a date in, and Millie was at a potential shoot with some of her model friends. Out of luck and options, you hunkered down in a back booth at the bar.

It was just your luck Harry was working, and considering you were kind of hoping he would be/hoping he wouldn’t be, you had mixed feelings when you made eye contact.

Harry regarded you oddly for a moment. This was now the second Thursday in a row you’d come in. But unlike last time where you only came in with a phone and sat at the bar, you were now at a booth, spreading papers out in front of you, piling textbooks around your laptop, and shoving glasses on your face.

Slowly, he made his way towards you wondering if maybe it was his attention you were seeking. If you were, he’d find that adorable and it wouldn’t be the first time someone would try to become his friend, but if you weren’t then he would be okay with that too.

“You know this is a bar, right?” Harry asked, “Like, people come in here to get wasted, not do their homework.”

“I know that,” you mumbled, “But Bea and Gav –”

“You say that as if I should know who they are,” Harry cut you off.

“My roommate and her boyfriend.”

“Your roommate has a boyfriend?” Harry asked, eyes widening slightly as he took in his new information.

“Not Millie,” you rolled your eyes, “My other roommate Bea and her boyfriend Gav are having a date night in our flat and Millie is busy with her friends and the campus library is closed.”

“Okay?”

“You have free wifi.”

“It’s not free,” Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s free for customers,” you shrugged, “And not as busy as Starbucks three blocks from here. I’ll take an iced tea please.”

Harry stared at you for a moment as you went back to your work. You were serious. You were actually here to get schoolwork done. Harry was in awe in a weird way – not in a ‘she’s amazing’ kind of awe, but almost in more so a ‘what even is this human’ kind of way.

“Okay,” he grumbled, walking back over to the bar and fixing your drink. It was a slow evening. The only person who had been in here so far was Niall and he only stopped by for about an hour.

“Thanks,” you mumbled halfheartedly without even looking up from your work as Harry set the drink down in front of you. There was a bowl of pretzels there too now, not that you’d asked for them or noticed, but Harry knew you liked them.

“So uh …” Harry cleared his throat, “What are you working on?”

You looked up at Harry, slightly shocked that he was lingering at the table and asking you a question. He was probably just trying to be polite? Still, you found your cheeks flaring up a bit at the though of him wanting to know more.

“A script,” you sighed, “Going through and making directors notes. Telling people where to look when and where to stand and how to feel.”

“Cool,” Harry nodded and tossed the dish rag over his shoulder before picking at his nails. “Do you uh … are there any projects at uni going on right now that they might need some actors for?”

You felt your chest heave at this. He wasn’t here because he was interested in your work. He was here because he was interested in what work he could get. You smiled politely and shuffled some of the papers before you, “I don’t know of any upcoming projects. Most of our projects are kind of on-going at the moment.”

Harry nodded and felt ridiculous for even asking. He’d been out of uni for less than a year and he was already missing it a bit. He was missing being busy and the work. He was tired of auditions.

“But I can tell Millie to give you a call if she hears of any,” you suggested.

Harry cocked his head to the side a bit with a perplexed look on his face. “Why would Millie call me?”

Because you guys hooked up? You thought. Instead you let out a long sigh, “Because she’s more involved in the acting department. You two probably speak the same language.”

“Every good actor knows to become friends with the director,” Harry pointed out, “They know all the ins and outs and all the good stuff before it’s even announced.”

Though this was nothing more than just an observation, and you were actually impressed with Harry’s knowledge of where he needed to be and how he wasn’t afraid to go after what he wanted, it still stung a bit.

And you let him know.

“So you’re telling me to my face that the only reason you want to be friends is so that you can get work because I’m in a better position to get you a job than my hotter friend Millie that you’ve already slept with?”

Harry knew his face showed shock, but mostly because he really couldn’t believe you’d just been so blunt. And he could tell that though you were acting confident, the words you’d just said also were bouncing around in your head a bit in shame.

“First of all,” Harry sat down in the booth across from you and you sucked in a breath. He was a lot closer now and you suddenly didn’t feel as powerful. “That’s not even what I meant. It was a compliment meaning you have more of a handle on everything and are the person to go to.”

“Nice save,” you mumbled.

“And second, I didn’t fuck your friend Millie so I don’t know why you have that going through your head.”

You raised an eyebrow and nearly wanted to laugh in his face.

“You were in my apartment early the next morning in boxers!” you cried, failing to even hold back a smile. “We’re adults; you don’t have to lie about your sex life!”

“She was too drunk to even walk! I helped your friend get her home!” Harry cried, “Wow is chivalry truly looked down upon these days?”

You merely shrugged, reaching up and rubbing your eyes as if to exemplify your boredom with this conversation. “Well you made the right decision then. Would you like a cookie for your valiant efforts?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at this. Something about the way you seemed hesitant in every rash thing you said tipped him off that this wasn’t your usual behavior. “Something is severely up your ass and I would try to help you find it but you’d probably hit me,” he chuckled.

You felt your cheeks warm at his statement and a small chuckle pushed past your lips. “I’m just tired Harry,” you sighed, “I’m sorry I’ve been so …” you waved your arms around your head and rolled your eyes as if that would explain your behavior. “Things are just difficult at the moment and I’m tired of getting hopes up and going over things too deeply in my head only to be let down.”

“That’s the vaguest answer I’ve ever heard,” Harry chucked.

You shrugged, “But to get back to your question, no – I don’t know of any projects going on. But I can let you know if I hear anything.”

Harry nodded and slumped a bit in the booth across from you. “M’just tired too, ya know? Not as much work as I thought.”

“I know,” you nodded, “That’s on my brain quite often now. I don’t have much longer myself.”

“You seem brilliant enough. I’m sure you’ll find work.” Harry stood as he said this, flopping the dishtowel over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be starting to work on your final project anyway?”

“I’m still looking for funding,” you cleared your throat, slightly embarrassed. “It’s hard to find other work to pay for the actual work I want to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I have scripts I want to direct. My friend Tad wrote the most amazing script and I fell in love with it. I want to direct the film and maybe even work a bit on producing it as well depending on the budget. Millie said she’d be in for it and I’m sure I could find some other actors. Locations wouldn’t be too hard,” Harry watched as you rubbed your face tiredly, “It’s just the funding.”

Harry thought for a moment as the idea started to fester in his mind. He hated himself a bit for thinking about it, and hated himself even more for questioning it. You were a director looking for the funds to be able to make a film, and he was an actor who needed a film to do his job.

“You could work here,” he blurted out, instantly closing his eyes and sucking in a breath as he said it. Your eyes, however, were wide open as you stared at him in shock. Just one look at his face and you could tell he regretted it.

“You don’t mean that,” you mumbled, looking back to your work. “I’m not a charity case, Harry.”

“Right, you’re just here for our wifi,” Harry smirked as he crossed his arms and looked down at you. He may not be certain how he felt about having to share his side of the bar with someone else, but he could use the extra help. The owner was a total no-show whenever Harry asked about hiring more people on, and Harry felt as though he basically ran the place. Hiring you might actually help him out more than hurt him.

Plus, maybe he’d get an acting gig out of it.

You slouched in the booth as Harry leaned in and raised an eyebrow, “We pay good here, in case you were wondering. You’d work nights, and on nights like this I’ll let you do your homework behind the bar.”

“I don’t even like alcohol,” you grumbled. You felt this was ridiculous, but Harry was so close to you and something about the idea of the two of you working together was enchanting as your romantic heart took ahold of your gullible and lonely brain.

“All the better then,” Harry shrugged, “You won’t be tempted.”

You were both quiet as Harry watched you debate your decision. “You must want something because you’re definitely not offering me this job because you want to hang out with me more often.”

Harry shrugged, “Maybe when you start casting, you could find a place in your film for a lead male with curly brown hair and muscles.”

“Why? Because you think that’s you? We won’t have enough of a wardrobe budget to give you muscles.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m hurt. Just show up tomorrow afternoon whenever you’re done with classes and I’ll start training you. Tomorrow night you’ll be on shot duty. No one can mess up shots.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, “And I’ll talk to Tad about the script and see what we can do for you.”

Harry winked, “That’s all I ask, love.”

Harry stood to walk away but you called after him. “And what kind of role would you like?”

Harry turned to and seemed to be thinking about it before saying, “One that makes me out to be a hero that gets the girl and has the whole audience rooting for me at the end, ya know?”

“Sounds like a romcom, honestly,” you chuckled, “Didn’t peg ya for a romcom kinda guy.”

“Romcoms are the most unappreciated of all movie genres,” Harry nodded, giving you a very serious look, “If I can take my shirt off, flex, and make out with a girl while getting paid and famous, what’s not to love?”

“It sounds like you’re more interested in porn than romcoms,” you joked.

Harry winked, “Don’t give away all my secrets, love. Gotta have some mystery to keep the crowd guessing.”

“Porn star romcom it is,” you noted, “Starring Mr. Harry Styles.”

“Just make sure there are good shots of my abs, yeah?”

“Just make sure you give me all the credit and thank me in your awards speeches,” you smiled back.

“That’s what friends are for, yeah?” Harry asked, turning away and back to behind the bar as you felt the smile fall from your face. 

Friend.

Of course. How could you be so in your own head, in your own fantasy realm, to think for even a second that Harry was flirting with you, or even that he was interested. He wasn’t interested. In fact, he was using you to find a job and creating a friendship of it all to keep you around. 

With this reality check, and a brand new job to come back to tomorrow, you left the bar with nothing more of a goodbye than the bell dinging over the door as you walked through it briskly. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, his lips pouting, when he heard this and turned to find you were gone. He figured you’d come say goodbye before you left, and because he’d been so sure of this he’d put together a bag of pretzels for your walk home.

Another day, he figured, before popping them in his mouth himself. 

-----

I feel like there’s more to this? I don’t know. You all asked for a bartender one shot and this was the best thing I could come up with? Not my best work but I also feel like the story could evolve more - yet not sure if there would be enough interest in a second part. 

If there is interest, I can look into it! Just let me know! Thanks for all the support and patience! I hope this was a lovely surprise! 

Part 2 HERE

[arabidzombiewrites-archive]

Housecall

Summary: A continuation of Special Delivery. Dwight gets sick. David wants to know where his delivery guy is. Also David is an accidental kidnapper, because that’s how helping works sometimes.

Word count: 1957 <<First <<Previous Next>>

After Saturday with the party and the kiss and the awkwardly rushing back to his car so he could collect himself and maybe not die of social awkwardness in the arms of a drunk and very handsome stranger he’d delivered pizzas to every week for months Dwight’s week went as normal. Mostly normal. From the outside it appeared normal. Dwight went to his classes, sat through lectures and worked on papers. He went to work, delivered pizzas. David ordered in from them a few times that week, and every time Dwight made some excuse to get someone else to handle the delivery.

He did not know what he was going to do when he saw David again. The guy had been drunk and Dwight was pretty sure it was a spur of the moment thing. Maybe David regretted it and was ordering pizza so Dwight could deliver it and David could punch him. Maybe this was part of some bigger joke that Dwight was the butt of. Just thinking about it had his heart racing. At the same time, he kept thinking about how it felt when David kissed him. It felt good, a dizzying rush that had left Dwight light headed and really happy. He didn’t have any other kisses to compare it to, so he had no way of knowing if that was normal. Just how things worked when people kissed. Either way, the prospect of seeing David again was mostly terrifying and only a little exciting in a good way. Dwight thought it would be better to just not.

Maybe it was luck, or it could have just been the stress that Dwight felt from the situation, or a mixture of both, but when Saturday came the delivery boy was too sick to work. He called in, curled up on the old couch in his apartment with a blanket and a cup ramen, and prepared himself for a night of watching cat videos until he passed out with the hope of waking up and feeling not as awful the next morning. The couch was probably older than Dwight himself, but he had gotten it for free when a neighbor wanted to throw it away and it was comfortable enough to sleep on in his cold apartment. Much more comfortable than his bed, which sat in his room, which was the coldest space in his apartment every winter.

--

America was fun. David couldn’t imagine himself living there, but as far as places to visit and have some fun in went, it was good. He hadn’t planned on staying too long, just enough for him beating the piss out of a referee to blow over so he could go to the pub without having to deal with anyone’s shit over it. He wasn’t trying to avoid a fight, David King never avoided a fight, but he was kicked out of a sport he loved, lost any chance at a future that sounded worthwhile, and just wanted some time to deal with things. Deal with things, of course, mean drinking and partying and blowing off steam in peace. In another country.

Things were going pretty damn well. David had booze, he had an easy time picking fights when he wanted one, he had someone in his bed every time he wanted them. Turns out people went crazy for the rich foreigner, especially one as handsome as David if he did say so himself. In fact the only complaints David had about his vacation to America were that his usual delivery guy was not showing up-- The cute one with the glasses and the blush that had been a surprisingly good kisser. At least, from what David remembered of that night he was. It had been a really good party and some of the details had been a little fuzzy the day after.-- and that Americans didn’t know what a decent pub was.

The pub problem just meant that David would have to throw parties and settle for a more American drinking experience. The delivery boy, well that was something else to deal with. Several times throughout the week he tried to get Dwight back out; had a plan all laid out. Dwight would show up with the pizza, David would actually talk to him or maybe floor someone again to show Dwight how impressive he was. Maybe they’d get to talking and David could spend time with someone who didn’t seem to know shit about him and hardly seemed after his money; both were very rare traits for David to encounter, but not bad.

Except every time he ordered pizza it was a different person bringing it. David would thank them, give them a tip, and end up with more pizza than he actually wanted. By the time Saturday rolled around he was in no mood for any more. Instead of ordering and hoping his usual guy showed up, David decided a more direct approach. He went to the pizza place--

--only to find that Dwight wasn’t in that day. Out sick, they said. David’s first instinct was to deck the guy who’d told him, but what would that get him? Banned from the place and it would make seeing Dwight again harder than it had to be. David was not afraid of hard work, but he didn’t see the point in making a problem where there didn’t need to be one. Besides, he’d have other fights, there were always other fights. So David decided to inquire about Dwight’s address.

Some people might have been told that they couldn’t have that kind of personal information and backed down. David was too stubborn for that.

--

Dwight groaned in his sleep. His limbs twitched as he dreamed about running away. His emptied ramen cup was on the floor, forgotten in his apartment. Dwight was not in his apartment; he was in some kind of forest running for his life from-- from. He was not really sure, he did not see what it was. He could hear it behind him and somehow he just knew that he’d die if it caught him, so he ran without looking back. Sometimes it sounded like his father. Sometimes it sounded like bullies from his childhood up through high school. Sometimes it didn’t sound human at all.

The otherwise quiet apartment was disturbed by his panicked whimpers and groans. Dwight was pretty sure he can’t outrun the thing forever. He knew he had to hide, but every time he tried the thing found him and he ended up running again. He was sure the thing was right behind him and that he was about to die. He’s about to die. He could hear his father’s angry voice. Dwight flinched, expecting at any second to feel the sharp, stinging pain of his father’s worn leather belt.

It never came.

Instead he heard someone calling his name, far away at first. Then he heard it again, louder as if someone was right by his ear. Dwight’s eyes snapped open and he nearly fell off the couch in surprise at seeing crazy British guy standing over him. For a moment, Dwight was pretty sure he.was still dreaming. Then a moment of trying to wake up went by and realized he was not. Then he panicked again.

“ ‘eard you was sick,” David started talking casually, as though it were completely normal that he’d found where Dwight lived and managed to get in somehow, “So I brought soup. You look awful, mate.” A take-away thing of soup was placed on the small coffee table that sits in front of Dwight’s couch before David walked away, towards the door.

Dwight tried to watch and pull his blanket around himself at the same time. He still felt sick. His body ached and felt too cold. It didn't help that the heater was off; it was expressive to run. Turning his head made him feel dizzy. He gave up and settled for listening to David do whatever it was he was doing to the door.

“You're in my apartment,” Dwight said, as though that might change things. Maybe David would realize that he had shown up uninvited amd leave before Dwight did anything embarrassing.

David seemed unconcerned. He finished with the door and made sure it closed, locked, unlocked, then opened again. Then, he sauntered back over to Dwight. “It weren't ‘ard to find, this place. A bribe here, some questions there. Christ, mate, this place looks like shit. D’you actually pay to live ‘ere?” Even with Dwight’s disapproval hanging in the air David looked relaxed, as if he owned the place.

“Maybe he really is royalty,” Dwight huffed. Then he realized he said that outloud. His brain chose that moment to remember every time he saw David punch a guy and Dwight quickly added, “That's what they say. Anyways. Why are you here?”

David seemed more amused that upset, which Dwight was thankful for. “Close enough to royal any’ow. I'm a King.” Dwight was not sure what that meant, but was not given time to ask. David continued, “An’ I came to apologize.”

“For breaking into my apartment?” Dwight was not sure he was following the conversation. He was not sure he could stay awake much longer.

David laughed, “Nah. That was just to get in. For scarin’ you last week, then kissin’ you an’ scarin’ you again. I was tryin’ta make you feel better, an’ you just looked so cute there.”

Dwight yawned, “So you broke into my house?”

“I tried gettin’ ya to deliver, but it was always someone else. When you didn' turn up t’work when I went lookin’ I paid your manager a visit an’ asked. When I ‘eard you was sick I thought to m’self that you might like a bit of soup. Always makes me feel better when I'm sick. I gave your boss a ten’er, an’ ‘e gave me directions.”

Dwight nodded lazily. “That was thoughtful. Absolutely crazy, but thoughtful.” He had a hard time keeping his eyes open. “You didn't have to.” Most people didn't notice or care when he was sick. It was a nice change of pace, if not very strange.

David was talking again, but his words all bled together as Dwight fell asleep.

“--an’ that’s why I decided,” David stopped when he realized his entire speech was falling on deaf ears. He sighed and shook his head as he finished his thought, “That we should be friends.”

He considered leaving Dwight bundled up where he was to get better. David looked down at the smaller, bundled man on the couch. If it weren’t for the shivering, he looked very comfortable. Dwight hadn’t really been too happy to see David, despite the gift of soup. David looked towards the door; maybe he should try again when Dwight was feeling better. Then again, how could anyone feel better sleeping in a freezing shoebox like the one Dwight called home?

It was the pathetic whimper Dwight gave that made David’s decision. He couldn’t just leave Dwight to freeze in his sleep sounding terrified of whatever it was he was dreaming about. That just didn’t feel right. Besides, the place David was renting while he was in the US had more than enough space and he was pretty sure Dwight wouldn’t mind. David nodded to himself and set to work. He had to go through Dwight’s belongings to pack the delivery boy some clothes and the laptop that had been plugged in and playing videos the whole time David had been there into a backpack that he’d found. It fit around the books that the bag already held, which was good. David shouldered the backpack and lifted Dwight as carefully as possible.

[pendragonfics]

You Are My Sunshine

Paring: Frank Castle/Reader

Tags: female reader, slice of life, domestic fluff, sharing a bed.

Summary: In the morning, you’d do your best to get out from the covers, and sliding on your slippers, put the kettle on. It was a sneak act because you no longer lived alone (take that, senior-year yearbook editors who claimed you’d be last to find love). It wasn’t just you and a pet, no, it was you, and your boyfriend, and the gorgeous monster of a dog called Max.

A slice of the life you share with Frank Castle, and his dog.

Word Count: 1,196

Posting Date:  2017-05-11

Current Date: 2017-06-12

In the morning, you’d do your best to get out from the covers, and sliding on your slippers, put the kettle on. It was a sneak act because you no longer lived alone (take that, senior-year yearbook editors who claimed you’d be last to find love). It wasn’t just you and a pet, no, it was you, and your boyfriend, and the gorgeous monster of a dog called Max. You had met him in your favourite coffee shop in the city, when they’d accidentally given you his order, and he yours. He wasn’t too pleased to get the cup with extra marshmallows, and you didn’t much like the idea of taking your coffee without anything in it to make it pleasant. But when you’d swapped the paper cups, you also swapped numbers, and well, the rest was history.

Flicking the switch on the kettle, you move the clutter on the kitchen bench as to sit on it, and stare out at the impending sunrise. Before meeting Frank, you had been nearly religiously devout to sleeping in, and he had the whole military thing of getting up, making the bed, and eating before dawn thing still in his head. But something clicked, and now he was the one snuggling down in the covers, and you were flicking through the TV on mute or flicking through your News Feed for the latest on the NYC Heroes app.

On the street, there’s a plethora of people up already for the day – the paperboy, riding a skateboard with cheap earphones in, joggers wearing a spandex sort of pants you’ll never get the hang of, mothers and their prams pushing their way toward the park a block down the way. Up in the apartment, it’s quiet, apart from the boiling kettle, and the occasional snore from either Frank or Max.

If it wasn’t a week day, you’d do all in your power to crawl back into the bed and snuggle against Frank. But it was a week day, and you had work, and your work wasn’t lenient to being late. You pour your tea into a travel mug, and start making a coffee for Frank.

Slipping from the bench, you cross the living room, and flick the little TV on. Frank brought the box home a couple of months ago, after a huge raid with the local bike gang. He called it a ‘celebration present’, but you suspected that he’d bought it because it was easier than hooking up the police radio device. You also suspected it was used during the day when he didn’t have anything on, because when you come home, the channel is left on the ones that play soppy soap operas.

But as the TV warms up (it’s one of the old ones, which sometimes is out of tune and needs a good thump, and has red and blue and green pixels) it shows the weatherman standing in front of a chart filled with little sun pictures.

“I’ll never know why that guy is always smiling so damn early in the morning,” the rumble of the sleep-addled voice of Frank Castle remarks. Glancing up, you see he’s behind you, his hands grasping the top of the sofa. “G’morning, sunshine.” He gives you a wry smile.

It was never anything else, always sunshine. You weren’t sure if it was something Frank said to every lady he came across, or maybe it was the name he called his wife before the incident, but you were sunshine. And it stuck. Never beautiful, or sexy or babe. Sunshine. You guessed it was because anyone else could be those things, could be beautiful, could be sexy, could be his baby. Maybe he called you it because there was only one sun. Or maybe it was just a word. Frank Castle killed people for a living, not complimented girlfriends.

“Hey,” you smiled.

Reaching up, guided his collar down, so you could kiss him from the couch. But just as he seemed to be getting into it, you remembered that today was a week day, and you had work. “Hey –,” Frank protested, but you slipped out from the position, and back to the bedroom, where the closet was. “I wasn’t done kissin’ you.”

You laugh. “You take too long to kiss, Frank. Besides, I’ve got work.”

There was a little office in the local High School with a plaque on the door with your name on the door, a script that you had fought tooth and nail to get. As the school’s head of literature department, you had a glorified title, taught English to bored high schoolers and after dark, ESOL to adult immigrants and refugees who had come to America for a better life. You weren't a hero, not like Frank, not like Daredevil, or even Spider-Man. You just did your part to make the city a better place. Make kids feel safe. Made adults understand the life they'd signed up for here in the city. 

“Call sick,” he tells you, following you to the closet. He grips the door, leaning, watching you as you change from your pyjamas to something a little more work appropriate. “It’s coming into flu season, I’m sure they won’t think nothing of it.”

You laugh. “I’m the head of English! I can’t call sick.” You grab a shirt, but just as you put it on, you see there’s a little stain on the collar. Defiantly not professional. “Don’t tell me the Punisher is being lovesick today. Is this an anniversary of something, or…?”

Frank’s head shakes. “Just want to spend some time with you.”

“I made you some coffee before you got up,” you distract him, motioning to the kitchen. “Should be strong enough for you by now.”

In the time that it takes for the bear-like pre-coffee Frank Castle to amble away to retrieve his drink, you choose on a greyscale polka dot blouse, blazer, and a pair of black slacks. You’re just about to shrug the blazer on when Frank is back, half the black coffee skulled when he makes a noise.

“How is it that you look like some kind of sexy librarian fantasy?” He asks, taking a sip.

You give a dry laugh, buttoning up the jacket. “Must be you projecting, Castle. I’m not even a librarian, talk to me when you’re cohesive after your coffee.” Grabbing a pair of black kitten heels, you try to put them on standing, and taking defeat, take a seat on Frank’s display of pristine bed-making. “Is this too much black?” you ask him, and rising, do a twirl.

He shakes his head, a little smile. “Can never have too much black.”

Your eyes roll. “It’s a good thing I love you, Frank Castle,” you test him, a jesting smile upon your lips. “I’ll see you this night for takeout and trashy TV. Unless you’ve got other plans?” You put out in the air, playing the card you’d never had the real opportunity to play before you settled down with Frank.

“Hell’s Kitchen doesn’t need me tonight.” He leans forward, and pecks you on the cheek. “Have a good day, sunshine.”

You beam. “Love you too, Frank.”

[bevioletskies]

20 questions [12/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: janet announces two new school-wide events, gamora tries to change her strategy when it comes to dealing with her feelings, and yondu is the captain of this ship, and no, I'm not talking about the eclector.

word count: 5301 | total word count: 118k

a/n: listen, yondu being alive and well in this au of mine might be one of my favourite parts about writing it.

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

So maybe, just maybe, it was a little narcissistic for Peter to think this way, but it seemed as if the entirety of the Academy was breathing a little easier once he and Gamora had made up, and were successfully faking it again. They held hands wherever they walked (so long as the others weren’t with them - Rocket had taken to making kissing noises whenever they stood a little too close together), kissed whenever they had to part ways for classes, and told stories about their “dates” to anyone who would listen.

Except this time, unlike their “origin story”, as Peter had called it, the “dates” were nearly one hundred percent truth. They talked about the rude SHIELD agent, the date in Shakespeare Park, the musical, the museum - they even mentioned dancing in the hotel room, in which Gamora rolled her eyes in pretend fond annoyance, while Peter winked at their enraptured audience. “Can always count on a romantic song to set the mood,” he had said cheerfully. Hey, if they weren’t going to talk about how that night had ended in private, they could at least play it up in public.

On Friday afternoon, after classes were over and everyone had dispersed out onto the quad, Janet was once again poised to make announcements, this time sitting atop the bulletin board, megaphone in hand. “Attention, Academy students!” she hollered, as if she wasn’t already amplifying her voice enough. “Just a reminder that voting ends in two weeks, so get your ballots in. We need more volunteers for ballot counters, sign-ups are available at Avengers Hall. Also, we have two new super exciting events ready to share with you guys!”

“Now what,” Rocket groaned. “She ain’t gonna break out a confetti gun, is she?”

“Ten units it’ll be a fog machine instead,” Yondu said.

“Deal. Shake on it.”

“As a school of heroes, we’re always working towards saving the day. I mean, that’s our number one goal here, right?” The crowd cheered ecstatically. “But I think there’s one more thing that we can do to close out this school year as a way of giving back - a fundraiser festival!” Janet kicked her legs up and down in excitement. “There’s so much talent at this school that doesn’t always get celebrated the way that our hero-ing skills do. So, you can either sign up to present a talent, or, volunteer to run a booth! There will be a bake sale, a dunk tank, a temporary tattoo artist, and maybe we can get a kissing booth set up?” She winked, causing giggles to ripple through the crowd. Director Fury was shaking his head nearby, arms folded in defiance. This was what he got for running a superhero school full of teens and young adults.

“I am Groot?”

“Kissin’ you’s like kissin’ a baby, Groot. Don’t think anyone here’s running for president anytime soon, ‘cept maybe Cap.”

“I have also finally gotten Director Fury to agree to host a prom this year! Tickets are on sale now at the Avengers Hall, and ticket sales, plus all our fundraising money, will go towards various charities around the world and Damage Control right here in New York.” Janet beamed. “The theme for this year’s prom will be…”

“Ten units it’s Under the Sea.”

“I bet ten it’ll be A Night to Remember.”

“...Masquerade Madness!” Janet squealed. Yondu and Rocket muttered “damn!” under their breaths in sync. “Everyone will be wearing a mask - bonus points if it looks like your actual superhero mask. But don’t actually wear your superhero mask, that’s lazy and I’ll be mad.” The students exchanged dubious looks - they didn’t like Janet when she was angry. “Anyways, that’s all! Thank you, lovelies!”

As the crowd began to disperse, chattering excitedly to their friends about what they were going to do for the fundraiser or who they wanted to go to prom with, Peter stepped closer to Gamora, hands moving to settle on her waist. She shivered at the touch as he bent towards her ear, kissing the side of her head before whispering, “I have an idea. Follow my lead.”

“I would if I knew what your idea was,” she muttered back, though he ignored her in favour of walking around her so he was facing her front. Her eyes widened in alarm as he got down on one knee, arms spread wide.

“Gamora,” he said loudly, and what was that odd not-British accent he was doing? Out of the corner of her eye, she could already see other students forming a circle around them, whispering to each other as they watched their spectacle. Janet had flown over, phone in hand, eyes the size of saucers. Kamala was bouncing up and down nearby, tweeting with reckless abandon and trying not to squeal too loudly. “My incredible, beautiful, deadly, powerful, deadly powerful - ”

“Quill,” she huffed, though she tried and failed to hide her smile behind her hands.

“ - will you go to prom with me?” Peter finished, looking so wonderfully earnest she could feel her grin spreading even wider. It was as if he was really hoping she would say yes, but that there would be a chance she would say no, and really, why would she say no?

“I thought it was a given, considering you’re my boyfriend,” Gamora said, and wow, she did not say that word out loud enough, it felt too foreign on her tongue, “but yes, of course I will.”

A cheer went through the crowd, firmly solidifying Peter’s somewhat arrogant belief that his relationship with Gamora had become a beloved part of the school’s social environment. As he got to his feet, his usual cocky grin on his face, he wondered how else he could possibly play up the moment. Gamora seemed to have the same idea, launching herself in his arms with surprising force, burying her face in his neck. “Smart,” she murmured, breath hot against his ear. “Our classmates will definitely know we have made up by now.” She pulled away, but not before taking both of his hands in hers, squeezing gently.

“And we continue to be the cutest couple in school,” Peter replied softly, smiling. “Let’s go get our tickets.”

“Wait! I have a confetti gun I want to use on you guys! Come back!”

“HA! Pay up, blue boy.”

“Ain’t never betting on nothin’ with you again, rat.”

______

Dinner that night on the Milano was a much more raucous affair than that of the previous three nights, now that Peter was back with his team. Everyone’s spirits were lifted, relieved that their leaders were once again back in a good place. Peter even offered to help Mantis and Drax cook (“You have burned water, Quill, get out”), but instead was relegated to setting the table.

“Man, I missed you guys,” Peter sighed happily. “The whole ‘broody loner’ schtick really doesn’t work for me.”

“I don’t understand none of the crap that came outta your mouth just now,” Yondu said, slapping him on the back. “But we missed you too, boy. Twig got all weepy, it was awful.”

“I am Groot,” he protested, though he jumped up and down, arms outstretched, for Peter to scoop him up.

“I missed you the most,” Peter told him, resulting in a tiny wooden smile so cute that even Nebula, who was otherwise sulking in a corner, had to fight the urge to grin. “But hey, while I was away, I watched a couple movies with songs you might like. I’ll play ‘em for you sometime.” Groot nodded eagerly, patting his small hand against Peter’s cheek before jumping back down again onto the kitchen counter.

“You done cryin’ about your own problems yet?” Rocket entered the room, lugging what looked like a giant detonation device behind him. “Found this mysterious piece of crap dumped outside. Probably Stark’s. Has all the parts we need to get the Milano finally back up and runnin’. This your doing, Quill?”

“No, but he’s been sneaking stuff in for us, as far as I can tell,” Peter replied. “It’s a good thing, right? You don’t have to acknowledge he helped, and we can finally get my baby working again.”

“Your insistence on referring to the Milano as a child is disturbing.” Gamora had walked into the room and swatted Peter’s arm playfully in a surprising display of casual affection, a stoicism in her eyes that didn’t match the gentle smile on her face.

“Not a child, my child.”

“Do you people ever talk about anything of significance?” Nebula’s sigh was almost impressive as Director Fury’s. “Gamora and I have decided to kill the Black Order. We apparently require your assistance.”

“Oh, hell,” Yondu groaned, throwing himself down on the couch. “Can’t we focus on one thing at a time, girl? Got enough on our plate as it is.”

“Your failure to perform well at school has nothing to do with the rest of us,” Nebula shot back. “Try harder.”

“Nebula.” Gamora clicked her tongue at her sister disapprovingly. “Let’s not turn this into a fight for once, okay?”

“That’s hypocritical, considering you and Quill having a lover’s spat nearly made this whole team fall apart in a matter of days.”

“We had a misunderstanding, it’s fine,” Peter said defensively. “Mantis, Drax, is dinner ready yet?”

By the time everyone had finally sat down to eat, Peter was reminded of how exhausting it was to keep up with his ridiculous team of misfits, but damn if he wouldn’t trade them in for all the units in the world (alright, maybe Nebula, but she was slowly growing on him, too. She was important to Gamora, so by extension, she was important to him as well).

“I spoke with Janet earlier today,” Mantis said after a few thankfully silent minutes of everyone stuffing their faces. “She said she didn’t want to give away the current voting results, but that you and Gamora seem to be in second place at the moment.”

“Second? Who’s in front of us?” Peter exclaimed, food nearly spilling out of his mouth as he spoke.

“Captain America and Agent Carter, of course,” Mantis replied with a shrug. “Even students who do not care much about love voted for them because it is a love that spans decades.”

“Gamora and I have literally seen each other almost die, like, ten times each. Isn’t that romantic?” Peter was flailing again, waving his fork around haphazardly. Gamora moved to gently push his hands down before he could knock over everyone’s cups in the process.

“The almost dying isn’t romantic, Quill, the ‘saving each other’s lives’ part? Maybe,” she said dryly, letting her hand linger for an extra moment before moving away.

“We could stage a - ”

“No, no, boy, you are not riskin’ your hide just to win sympathy points from those fools,” Yondu said fiercely, slamming a fist down on the table, causing the dishes to rattle. “You’ve had some stupid ideas in your life, but that might be one of your worst yet.”

Sulking, Peter slumped back in his chair, throwing down his fork in defeat. “We gotta give it one last boost. Two weeks, and voting is over. It doesn’t even matter what we do afterwards, but something’s gotta be done now.”

“What happened to the other categories? You are all acting as if this is the only one that matters,” Nebula said with a smirk. “Have we all become so invested in this lie that we’ve forgotten about winning ‘Best Team’?”

“You technically are not part of the team,” Drax reminded her. “Frankly, I’m unsure if it will ever happen for you.” Nebula sneered in response. Gamora stomped on Drax’s foot from the other side of the table, shooting him a warning glare. He let out a howl of pain.

Mantis’s hands shot out to clasp at both Gamora and Drax’s wrists, quick to subdue them before it could escalate. “Actually, Janet says we will probably win that one,” she said, brightening. “The Avengers fight too much, the Defenders are scary to a lot of the newer students, and the other teams are not as prominent in popularity. Peter is especially recognizable to the general public. There are many girls who like to post on social media about him.” Peter could see Gamora’s nose wrinkle in disapproval, so he reached to gently pat her on the leg under the table, hoping no one else could see.

“Awesome, so that’s fifty thousand units in the bag. No, Drax, there’s no physical bag,” Peter interrupted himself as Drax opened his mouth. “And as much as I want to win Most Attractive Team...because that’s apparently a thing, the Avengers look like freaking models. And we have a raccoon.”

“I’M NOT A - ”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

“As always, I’ve gained nothing out of this.” Nebula stood to leave with her plate and cutlery, half of her food still left over. Her dramatic exit was ruined by getting stuck behind Drax’s chair on her way out. They all watched in awkward silence as Drax scraped his chair along the metal floor to allow Nebula to side-step with her back against the wall, an increasingly murderous scowl forming on her face.

“We should figure out a plan of attack against the Black Order or she might attempt to leave again,” Gamora muttered to Peter.

“You think we can wait until after the voting’s done?”

After dinner was over, Gamora went to go give Groot a bath (it was usually Drax’s chore, though he’d been protesting against it ever since Groot had been sick that one time and puked on him in the shower), Rocket disappeared to start taking apart the device Stark had “donated”, and Drax followed him to “help” (more like observe and criticize despite knowing nothing about engineering compared to Rocket), leaving Yondu and Peter to take care of the dishes.

“I think I finally figured Nebula out,” Peter said as he dumped a generous amount of dish soap into the sink. “She doesn’t make dramatic exits from dinner because she’s mad or irritated, she does it to get out of dish-washing duty.”

Yondu started opening all the cabinets in search for a clean washcloth. “And y’all say I’m irresponsible.”

“You literally haven’t done homework in like, three months, man,” Peter pointed out. “You’re smarter than this, Yondu.”

“Don’t lecture me about smarts,” Yondu grumbled, finally locating one behind a stack of suspiciously foggy-looking shot glasses. “I know what I’m good for, and it ain’t school.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t try,” Peter said. He began scraping the food scraps off the plates into their composter. It seemed slightly clogged, but he couldn’t tell if it was because it was a terribly cheap machine or if Rocket had been messing with it for parts.

“I’m done talkin’ about this, but you know what I wanna know more ‘bout? You and Gamora,” Yondu said, straightening up with a smug grin. “What happened? Y’fought for like, five days straight. That’s a record for you two.”

“We both said stuff we regret, no need to share the details,” Peter mumbled. “She might’ve also made it pretty clear she doesn’t actually want to date me, and I guess it just made me kinda sad, but, y’know, I’ll get over it.”

“You asked?” Yondu’s eyes widened. That seemed like an unlikely turn of events. Peter was overconfident at times - well, most of the time - and might’ve overdone it, whatever it was he had done, but Gamora didn’t seem like she would turn him down. She was starting to look just as gooey-eyed around Peter as he did around her. Not that Yondu was paying attention, of course.

“No, but she’s weirdly trying to set me up with girls I barely know,” Peter huffed, throwing the plates into the sink a little more aggressively than he needed to. “You don’t do that with a guy you want to date, therefore, she doesn’t wanna date me.”

“You do if you think it’ll make ‘em happy,” Yondu said, frowning. “If you love someone, you do whatever it takes to make ‘em happy. Don’t you know anything about love?”

“Come on, Yondu,” Peter sighed. “We grew up together. You know that ‘love’ wasn’t ever really a part of my relationships, if you could call ‘em that. Gamora’s...the closest I’ve ever had.”

“Now, now, Quill. You put on a big show, make them girls think you’re smooth,” Yondu said, pacing around Peter. Oh no, Peter thought, it’s Yondu’s Dramatic Speech Time™. “You charm ‘em, kiss a fair bunch, sleep with a couple ‘cause you think it makes you happy. And it does, for a while. But then, you ditch the Ravagers, try to start over, fresh, at the Cosmic Conservatory, and you see a girl that spins you on your head.”

“The pacing really isn’t necessary,” Peter interrupted, but Yondu just continued as if he hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not just that she’s pretty - and she is - it’s that she’s clever, she’s resilient, she’s strong, she’s unlike all the girls you been after your whole life. You flirt with her, but it don’t work ‘cause she’s smarter than that. You don’t wanna give up because she’s somehow different. But then this whole orb business, and Ronan, and you go back and forth, saving each other’s lives, and next thing y’know, you’re runnin’ a team together, living on a ship together, goin’ to school together. She’s everywhere, and she’s almost too important, so you play house instead.”

“Yondu - ”

“You’ve gotten too comfortable in pretendin’, boy,” Yondu said, brandishing a wet spoon at him. Peter winced as it made an incredibly disgusting squelching sound. “You gonna let a good thing like that slip away ‘cause you think she don’t feel the same? Here’s an idea - ask her.” He stood even taller, a satisfied look crossing his face. “I’ll only believe ya if she actually says no.”

Peter blinked at him in disbelief. “Do you know how dramatic you look when you do that? No, don’t answer that, you definitely do.” He sighed, turning back to the sink so he could scrub at the last plate instead of looking at Yondu’s smug expression. “Look, I’ve only just sort of acknowledged that I have feelings for her, okay? And this isn’t the first time - for some stupid reason, I - you know what, I’m not telling you about that. But now, I know for sure, that I like her, a lot, and I’m not ruining a good thing by telling her.”

Yondu snorted. “That’s what all those idiots in those films a’yours say. What’re you waitin’ for, boy, some big, life-changing moment?”

“No,” Peter snapped. “I’m waiting for proof that she feels the same. You think I like getting hurt?”

“So all them girls you flirted with before, you knew it was a sure thing? Never thought you’d get turned down?” Yondu leaned against the counter. “I don’t believe that.”

“Getting turned down for a date or a casual hookup is one thing,” Peter said, setting the last dish down, staring at it intensely like it had personally offended him. “Being rejected when you tell someone how much you like them? When they’re one of the most important people in your life? A whole ‘nother ballgame.”

“So you’re sensitive,” Yondu shrugged. “Your strength and your weakness, if y’ask me. Love, compassion, that’s your real power, ain’t it? You care so much about people you don’t even know. I’m just sayin’, a girl like Gamora, she’s a toughie, but she’s got some baggage. Insecurities, like everyone else. She might need you to spell it out for her before she shows her hand at all.”

He walked away with a knowing smile and wink, leaving Peter feeling thoroughly chastised. Yondu was only older than Peter by a year or two, so why did he feel like just got lectured by a father he didn’t have? He shivered a little at the thought of what his actual father had been like - a “complete and utter jackass”, to quote Yondu’s apt description of him. The way he’d tried to get between Peter and the other Guardians, the way he’d taunted him about his mother. Peter winced when he remembered how Ego had compared his relationship with Gamora to be like his own relationship with Meredith. Never, Peter thought fiercely.

Left alone with his thoughts for a few minutes as he mindlessly rearranged the kitchen cupboards (who thought it was a good idea to put preserved eyeballs next to the jam? Why did they have preserved eyeballs, and who was eating jam?), a voice pulled him back to reality. “What’re you doing?” Peter jumped, turning to see Gamora standing there, leaning against the wall, wearing one of his hoodies, her hair slightly damp at the ends. He raised an eyebrow. “Groot was fussy and splashed me, don’t look at me like that,” she chuckled. “Why are you moving everything around? Do you not have homework?”

“I do, which is why I’m doing this instead,” he lied smoothly, shutting the cupboard door. “You staying here tonight?”

“Are you?” She stepped closer, blinking up at him. “It’s the last Friday before I finally get back to performing at Club Galaxy. I thought we could do something.” Peter was pretty sure his brain short-circuited when she bit her bottom lip, an impish grin forming on her face.

“You, uh, have something in mind?” Peter was very confused. He couldn’t be sure, considering he’d never seen her do it before, but was she flirting with him? He’d been surprised enough yesterday when Gamora had ended up sleeping in his bed, but now her tone suggested she wanted a continuation. Before his brain could take him to a different line of thinking, he weakly suggested, “Another movie, maybe?”

Which is how he found himself, once again, in his (other) bed with Gamora pressed against his side, showing her -

“Dirty Dancing?” she said. “You’re not even trying to pretend anymore, are you?”

“Why’re you wearing my jacket?” Peter blurted before he could stop himself. He wasn’t sure why the thought to ask had suddenly registered in his head, as if she hadn’t been wearing it for the past twenty minutes already. She looked so at home in his clothes that he could feel all those feelings bubbling up again in his stomach, both something oddly warm and comforting, and something that was urging him to do something he’d regret.

“Janet is having some girls’ tea party - I don’t even know why - and I thought that showing up wearing what is clearly my boyfriend’s jacket would help,” Gamora said. She didn’t even look convinced of her own words - as valid as her point may be, it explained nothing about why she was wearing it now. Still, he decided not to comment as he mulled over what Yondu said. She was, despite her warrior’s exterior, still a young woman with sensitivities. He’d seen it in the discomfort on her face when he’d confronted her about what she said about him, how words could hurt her more than any weapon ever would. It wouldn’t do him any favours to point out the flaws in her logic.

He hummed, laying his head down on the pillow, wondering vaguely if she was planning on staying in his bed tonight as well. Probably not, considering her room was just next door, but it was a nice thought. Unlike Gamora, Peter had shared a bed with people before. Not always for sexual reasons, but with his mom when he’d had a nightmare, or even with Yondu when the Eclector was particularly overcrowded (Yondu didn’t like to talk about it). There was something about waking up to see her next to him that made him feel safe. And maybe, for a moment, he could pretend it was a result of something real. He stole a glance at her, watching as her dark eyes fixated on the screen, taking in Baby and Johnny’s dance practice. “Maybe we should do the lift at prom,” Peter said, half-jokingly.

“I hope you’re not expecting that,” Gamora said, pointing as Jennifer Grey crawled across the floor. He momentarily got distracted by the mental image that her idea had provided him.

“That would be really difficult to do in a prom dress,” he chuckled. “Hey, so do you really want to go to prom?”

“It would be odd if we didn’t,” she replied.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Peter said softly. “Not for the con. For you.”

“I like experiencing the things I missed out on,” Gamora said thoughtfully, finally turning back to look at him. “I guess it makes me feel like I've become a part of something meaningful, even if it is just a school dance.”

“Then I'm glad to be a part of it,” he declared. “Now, after this movie is over, you have to tell me whether you've had the time of your life…”

______

The weekend passed by with little issue, all things considered. After the turmoil the team had gone through in the past month, they were grateful for the mundane, monotonous crawl of a lazy weekend. Peter was still a little rattled by Yondu’s speech, but he knew it came from a place of caring, as much as Yondu would deny it.

Peter and Rocket even managed to fix the Milano and finally get her up and running once more. True to his word, Peter started off by doing his repairs in a T-shirt, stripped down to a muscle tank, and eventually decided to go shirtless for the last couple hours in the height of the afternoon sun, sweat dripping down his forehead. He was pretty sure there was some irony in being cat-called by Tigra and Black Cat as they passed by the loading bay.

“Is this display necessary?” Gamora sighed when she had dropped by after spending most of her day with Janet and the other girls. “It’s not that hot.” He noticed she was still wearing his hoodie, now fully unzipped over her usual “uniform” of a blank tank top and leather leggings. It was a good look on her.

“You might be used to wearing all-leather outfits in the peak of summer, but I’m not,” Peter replied with a smirk. “I thought you’d enjoy the view, honey.”

“Yes, I don’t know why you’re complaining, Gamora, unless you want to keep him all to yourself,” Felicia purred. “You could cut diamonds on his stomach. I should try that sometime.”

“Don’t talk about him like that, his ego is already the size of his ship,” Gamora said, frowning, though she moved closer so she could kiss him. If her hands lingered on Peter’s bare torso for a little while longer than they needed to, well, that was her business.

Sunday was when the Guardians caught up on homework, albeit separately. Yondu also took the opportunity to chase the others down and chastise them about slacking. “You are telling us not to slack?” Nebula said, eyes narrowed. “That is a first.”

“Not on homework, girl. Your sister and Quill,” Yondu said, causing her to groan.

“Still on about that, are we? You seem oddly invested,” Rocket commented slyly. “What’s going on there, Yondu?”

“You really wanna know?” Yondu snapped.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Rocket stood to his full height (three feet tall, so hardly intimidating, but to his credit, he had one of his signature BFGs by his side). “I wanna know why you care so d’ast much.”

“Then I’ll tell you.” Yondu settled into the armchair, glancing around to make sure Peter and Gamora were nowhere nearby before starting. “I might not’ve been captain yet, but when I was a kid Ravager, we had a job to go pick up some skinny kid off Terra. Weren’t allowed to ask questions about why or what we were doin’ with him. I watched ‘em big boys haul in that snot-nosed kid, who wouldn’t stop cryin’ about his mama. I was one of the only kids on the Eclector, so they told me to shut him up by any means possible. I didn’t wanna hit him or nothing, he was probably 60 pounds soaking wet. So, I asked him if he knew why he was here, what happened to his mama. Next thing I know, kid’s rattlin’ off about his music, all the shit he’s got in his backpack that she bought him, stuff like that.”

Mantis leaned forward, eyes wide, enraptured. “And then what happened?”

“One of the men - not the cap’n, just one of them commanders - came in and yelled at me for makin’ it worse. I say, ‘kid’s scared, he thinks we’re gonna sell him into slavery. We ain’t doing that, are we?’. The guy decks me across the face - me, also just a kid.” Yondu sighed slowly. “Then Quill, ‘cause he’s a dumbass, starts hittin’ the guy - who’s prob’ly 300 pounds on an off day - kickin’ him in the shins, hollerin’, saying ‘leave my friend alone, he ain’t done nothing’. We been talking for an hour tops, and he already thinks we’re friends.”

“That sounds very much like Quill,” Drax said, smiling fondly. “A man of good intention and terrible execution.”

“The guy don’t leave ‘til Quill’s got another black eye and a couple bruised ribs, but he’s smilin’ like he won a million units, ‘cause he’s decided that I’m stuck with him,” Yondu continued. “All cheery-like, tells me his face hurts, like I can’t tell. Won’t shut up about nothing ever since. And we get older, we start talkin’ about girls we like. Go out on jobs, see pretty girls, we flirt with ‘em, it can’t hurt. And I’ll admit, Quill’s more successful ‘cause he’s got that something special, y’know, but then he ditches the Ravagers for the Cosmic Conservatory. When I finally see him again, he’s talking about some girl with a sword who kicked his ass. And yeah, he mentions how pretty she is, but it’s everythin’ else that makes me realise there’s more to her than that. In some ways, feels like the way he used to talk about his mama - with love, with respect. He got it bad.”

“You really trying to say Quill’s had a crush on her since the beginning?” Rocket said, skeptical. “I mean, yeah, now he’s pretty obvious about it, but what about before when we were fighting Ronan? He was all business once we got down to it.”

“Gotta have your priorities straight, boy,” Yondu said, wagging a finger at him. “No time for nookie-nookie when there’s a maniac on the loose. Anyways, I been listening to Quill yammer on about nothin’ for years, and all a’sudden, he’s reluctant to talk. Something’s changed - it’s for real this time. For the first time, he’s nervous about losing. So we gotta help him out, push ‘em both in the right direction.”

The group fell silent for a moment, considering. “I have been helping,” Mantis piped up. “They are both too stubborn to admit it, but I can tell they both want it to be real.”

“Admittedly, I’ve not really done my part,” Drax murmured, head bowed as if he were ashamed. “But neither of them listen to me as much as you or Yondu.”

“I am Groot?” He blinked up at them slowly, hopeful.  Rocket nodded approvingly.

“That’s actually not a bad idea, Groot,” he said. “Groot thinks he can use the ‘child’ angle to his advantage. Y’know, bring out the parenting instincts.”

“That’s good, twig,” Yondu said, smiling. “So, we all clear now? Get ‘em together so Quill can get back to normal. This weird, evasive crap? Ain’t like him.”

“If it will get you to shut up about it already,” Nebula muttered.

a/n: fluffy ridiculous OTT team dynamics are everything. hope y'all found this chapter to be a breather after the ridiculousness of the last one. next chapter's a fun one - the team finally take on a new job now that the milano's up and running, which may or may not make our lovely "couple" question whether they're doing this for the money anymore. also, black cat and tigra for those of you who don't know who was hitting on peter in that end bit there.