#if any of them had actual just plain fun with their clothes .. it was Roger

[pcttrailsidereader]

Excerpt from 'Walking Home'

I happened to meet Rick Rogers and one of his hiking partners in 2018 near Dove Springs in southern California. My friend Billie Robinson and I were headed toward Walker Pass. We had set up camp near an abandoned mine site when Rick and Cool Breeze passed by. Turned out Rick was from the same county Billie and I are in northwest Washington. That was a fun coincidence. Fast forward to 2023. A friend shared a book about someone's PCT experience entitled 'Walking Home'. As I began reading I noticed that there was something familiar about the author. Reading further I was sure I had met Rick. I looked back at my journal from the section where I had met the fellow from Conway and sure enough, there he and Cool Breeze were. I was intrigued and finally got in contact with Rick after meeting him several years ago.

Most hikers on the Pacific Crest Trail take zero days in towns every week or so to resupply, wolf down some easy calories, and just plain laze about to let their bodies recuperate and recharge.

Moving through nature at foot speed mile after mile creates its own reality, and it’s easy to feel more at home there than in any other.  Zeroing in town, everything looks artificial, or alien, with people and machines doing unnatural and incomprehensible things.  It can be disorienting for some and their thoughts and behavior can be affected.  And some hikers, especially those fragile of mind, should just never zero, even when they resupply.  Stopping can be just too weird for them… ]

Zero Days In Oregon

I had to stay put and kill a couple days in Medford while I waited for my lightweight tent and sleeping bag that my wife had mailed. I would be relieving my backpack of the heavy tent and sleeping bag that I had carried the 800 miles I’d walked since she had mailed them to me in Chester.  Also going was the bear can I’d carried through 450 miles of it.  From here north, fully half the weight I carried on my back would be gone.

I’d rented Medford’s best thirty-dollar-a-night hotel room.  After a look inside, I decided to splurge for an extra amenity, so went to a nearby hardware store and spent another four dollars on some painter’s plastic to drape over the bed.  I put my sleeping bag on it and sat down.  A small TV was perched atop a dented microwave that in turn sat on a cigarette-burned corner stand next to the window.  A cheerful TV newswoman was cautioning her viewers to stay indoors, as breathing the wildfire smoke outside was a serious health risk. I sat on my sleeping bag and plastic drop cloth, and contemplated the newswoman’s warning, while simultaneously trying to discern the origins of the stains on the walls of my room.  As a civilized person of discernment, I realized that all risks are relative, actually.  I went outside for a walk.

The next two days, while I waited for the mail to bring my lightweight gear (and for the antibiotics to calm my bladder down), I made little adventure walks around town.  The built environment, as much as could be seen in the smoke haze anyway, seemed grimier, and somehow deficient compared to the trail’s scenery.  The geometry of the sidewalks and walls was simpler, more planar, and lacked the curves and fractals that my eyes had grown accustomed to seeing.  Their colors too, especially in the smoke haze, were less interesting.

Still, there were some landmarks of interest.  Shopping Cart Island was among my favorites. There was a bike path along the creek and greenway that formed a sort of border zone between a shopping mall on the one side, and an industrial park on the other.  A bridge connected the two, and it had a wide sidewalk bordered by a low guard rail. It was easy to lean over to watch spittle slurp down to the creek. 

Apparently, the homeless people that lived in the thickets beside the bike path in the greenway took shopping carts from the mall’s parking lot and brought them back with them.  It would have been rude to leave their shopping carts on the bike path in front of their camps in the thickets, so instead they thoughtfully threw them off the bridge and into the creek below. 

The shopping carts had strained plastic bags and odd articles of clothing from the creek, and these partially submerged accretions were covered all over with scum and algae.  They had made a sizable island in the creek’s sluggish current, and the disturbance spawned semi-predictable patterns of spinning little whorls.  Dropping a globule of spittle into one of these took real perseverance.

That night, I had a phone conversation with Monica. Back home, she was having some trouble with subcontractors, and at one point told me that she wished I was there. I did too. There, on the painter’s plastic alone in my creepy hotel room the Trail adventure wasn't much fun, and it was difficult to see what novelties I had to look forward to.  I’d walked nearly fifteen hundred miles already, and I was pretty sure I’d gotten the hang of it by then.

“Look, I have a rental car,” I said.  “I could be home tomorrow and just put an end to this now.”

“Well, I just sent your stuff in the mail,” Monica said.

“I’ll just call them and have them send it back.”

“No, you can't do that.”

“Sure I can.  Easy-peasy.”

“No, I mean you can’t quit.  What would you tell your son if you just quit halfway through?”

“Halfway through?  I’ve walked the whole length of California.”

“Your goal was to complete the PCT,” Monica reminded me.  “California is only two-thirds of it. If you quit now, you'll have a hard time explaining it to Matthew.  Besides, he’s looking forward to finishing the trail with you when you get to Washington.”

“Hmm.”

“Not to mention that you will regret it as soon as you get here, and you would continue to regret it for the rest of your life if you come home now.”

I held the phone but didn’t talk into it.  Monica doesn’t enjoy silence, and neither can she abide indecision.

“I don't want you coming home any other way than by walking.  Don't come home,” she said. “I don't want you here.”

My next room, in Cascade Locks, had a number of things that the Medford room hadn’t, like a door for the bathroom for instance.  But it lacked those special features of interest that can make a stay so memorable.  Missing was the Rorschach mold pattern in the shower stall, and the cigarette burns on the bedside table.  And the light switches and the doorknobs didn’t have those layers of grime accreted to them that leave your hands feeling conveniently greasy and moisturized after you’ve touched them.

It had a nice view though, across the street towards the post office, with the Columbia River as backdrop.  There’s not a lot of land between the single row of buildings fronting the main street and the river behind them, but there is some, and most of that the PCT hikers have claimed for free camping.  They’ve named it, actually, calling it Shrek’s Swamp.

There was a great old-fashioned place for ice cream near the post office, and while I was there nursing a root beer float, I watched a guy wearing an oversized white button-down cotton shirt and a denim kilt walk into town.  He had a large leather sling bag on his back, carried with a single strap of macrameed jute rope worn across his body.  He was balding, had a scruffy red beard and freckles, and looked to be on the verge of an unpleasant sunburn.

Lately, I had seen a lot of people that had spent a lot of time outside, and he was a guy that looked as though he’d spent a lot of time outside.  He wasn’t a through-hiker, though.  His sling bag and strap were more suited for thumbing rides than for carrying gear over long distances, and he wore woolen socks in sandals.  His clothes showed wear, but somehow, subtly, not in the same places as hikers’ clothing.   

He was looking down as he walked, and it looked to me like the freckles on the top of his head were larger than the ones on his face. This didn’t make sense, because over time I thought, the skin on his face should have stretched more than the skin on his skull, so that his face freckles would have been bigger than his scalp ones.  I decided that I must have misjudged them at first glance. 

But as he came abreast of me, and I was making more careful observations, he must have felt my eyeballs on him because he stopped briefly to shake off my gaze with a quick stare-down and a curt nod.  I nodded back to acknowledge that I would return to minding my own business and let him see my eyes slide off of him and back down to the root beer float in my hand.

I went back to my room, stripped down, and put on my rain gear.  Everything else, I took to the hotel’s coin-op laundry.  I went back to my room again to wait, but with nothing on underneath, rain gear gets sticky and uncomfortable.  I took it off, so was sitting on the bed naked when I heard a ruckus outside.

I stuck my head out the window and heard shouting.  “Hey, this is for PCT hikers only.  You’re no hiker.” 

Then another voice, “Yeah.  This isn’t a homeless camp, so beat it, Scuzzy.”

I saw the denim kilt guy come back out onto the street from between two buildings.  Apparently, he’d tried stopping to rest in that area the PCT’ers used for free camping, Shrek’s Swamp, and some of them didn’t like it.  They were chasing him off with hurled threats and insults.

Even though he was already retreating, the first voice yelled again, louder, “And don’t come back again either, loser!”

That didn’t seem fair to me.  I mean, they didn’t own the place, and they weren’t paying anything to camp there either.  Maybe the guy was dressed a little funny, and maybe was homeless even, but really- his situation wasn’t all that different, materially, from the lifestyle we through-hikers had been living since spring.  Those guys needed some perspective, needed to look within themselves to find some tolerance and understanding.  I decided to illuminate them.

“Hey!  You’re all a bunch of losers!” I yelled towards the Swamp.

“What?  Who said that?”

I leaned farther out the window.  “I did,” I yelled back.  “You’re all a bunch of squatters, a bunch of freeloaders, a bunch of dirt-bagging, monkey-butts.”

“Oh yeah?  Why don’t you come down here and say that?”

“I would, but I don’t have any clothes on!”

“You what?”

“Yeah, you heard me.  You’re all dirt bag camping for free, and I have a hotel room.  I paid for it, and I have a TV in here.”

“So?”  The voice I was anonymously yelling at didn’t seem all that impressed, and I realized that paying for a TV wasn’t something that necessarily inflicts a through-hiker with jealousy.  If I wanted a shot to land, I’d need to communicate something that would.

“AND, I have a bathroom door!” I added.  “And YOU DON’T!!”  I pulled my head back inside and closed the window, confident that my point had been made, and sat on the bed again naked and alone, and watched the little television in the little room that I had paid for. 

But it was golf, and it was boring.

To read Rick's book 'Walking Home' follow this link:

Walking Home; Common Sense and Other Misadventures on the Pacific Crest Trail  by Rick Rogers

A Zero in Tehachapi

[astrophysicist-guitar-god]

Picture from this post by @fuckyeahmercury​. 

Always one to take a fun and colorful risk -- I love this, it looks like Roger’s wearing a Juicy Fruit Gum belt:

There’s one on WorthPoint:

Description from the listing:

OLD VTG 1960S WRIGLEY'S JUICY FRUIT CHEWING GUM BELT W/ LUCITE BUCKLE 38" LONG

This offering is for an old vintage 1960's Wrigley's Juicy Fruit Gum advertising belt. The belt measures app. 38" long not counting the buckle. The buckle is made of a Lucite type material and the belt is made of vinyl and faux leather. 

[kikilefangirl]

New Beginnings For Late Bloomers

Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Word Count: 2.4k)

You answered the Wakandan prince and princess’ call almost immediately. You quietly and swiftly made your way from your room, taking the familiar route south to the lab.

King T’Chaka’s death was so recent that his presence was still very much felt around the palace. Everyone, of all ranks, collectively mourning the loss. As you passed through the halls, you thought of his children—you couldn’t imagine losing your father, especially in such a jarring way. You bristled before turning the corner, bracing yourself for whatever was on the other side.

A pale skinned, dark haired man appeared to be sleeping in a large tube. Beside it, Prince T’Challa and Princess Shuri were in deep conversation with another white man, this one blonde. He stood opposite them and face to face with you.

You weren’t one for rudeness, but you had never seen a white man in person before, and it was strange. You found yourself switching back and forth between the and his sleeping friend. The first and second white men you had seen up close. They both had white skin tinged with pink, and their hair really was bone straight. The blonde gave you a warm smile, maintaining a slight recline and dropped shoulders.

You weren’t very good at interrupting or with strangers; your shyness was a terrible hindrance, and it was a wonder you even had friends in the royal family. The stranger’s reaction saved you the trouble, causing both siblings to do the same. Immediately, your eyes drifted the man in the tube, lightly pressing your fingers on the glass.

T’Challa cleared his throat and gestured at the blonde, “Y/N, this is Captain Rogers.”

You nodded at him and followed his downward gaze––to the other white man. Because you were closer, you could see his breath fog up the glass in front of his nose.

“We need you to watch over Sergeant Barnes while he is within our borders,” Shuri said. Though he looked relatively peaceful, what this Sergeant Barnes was like when he was awake must be hard.

“Your daily tasks will be to tend to him.” T'Challa explained.

Your gaze softened when you glanced at Captain Rogers. His concern was plain to see, enough to make you muster up whatever courage you had to speak.

“I will do as I am asked. Sergeant Barnes will be well cared for during his time here.” You replied. You gave him a small smile.

The man nodded at your reassurance, and you excused yourself. You had a lot of work ahead of you.

…

The sound of giggling and shuffling feet took you out of your reverie.

You were greeted to the sight of children laughing and chasing each other on the river bank. You smiled at their antics, but had to shoo them away. They were playing outside of Sergeant Barnes’—erm, Bucky’s hut while he was sleeping. You noticed how little the man allowed his body to rest, and you did your best to prolong it.

You knew the kids had broken his sleep, so you entered his hut, anyway. As you expected, the man was on his back looking at you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Please, try and go back to sleep,” you whispered, averting your gaze.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his head back on his bed. You took the opportunity to light an incense on the outer edge of the hut while you went about your daily tasks. It was the one that usually lulled him back to sleep, but Bucky was wide awake.

You occupied yourself with menial work in an effort to ignore his eyes on you. You were taking out an old blanket but when you touched the other side, you felt a thick, runny liquid. The harsh smell of iron hit your nostrils almost immediately.

Blood.

“I had another one after you left.” A raspy voice called from behind you.

You quickly wrapped the blanket in your arms, doing your best to hide the sight. Bucky was sitting up; he may have been looking at you, but his eyes were much farther away. The color wasn’t familiar to you, but the distant sadness in them was. You could see fresh scratches poking out from his tunic and the slight grimace on his face.

Gently, you set the blanket back down and grabbed the tin of shea butter from your supply bag. You unscrewed the cap and scooped the product out. You made your way to his bed, sitting on your knees beside him.

You pulled the cloth down to reveal the familiar nub where his arm used to be.

“Your head therapy with Dr. Amari has been switched to Tuesdays and Thursdays, for now. Shuri needs time to grieve the king and the mind must come before the body, in your case. ” You said softly, applying the shea butter evenly and without fanfare.

Bucky was leaning away from you, but he nodded nonetheless. You never had to yell or shout to get his attention––he always heard you, no matter how quiet you were.

When you were done, Bucky offered you a tired smile, but you couldn’t return it. You felt your face get hot and averted your gaze. It was different when you had nothing more to do, and he was just staring at you.

“I will get you new bedding and clothing when I return.”

You darted out of the hut as fast as you could, only stopping to let out the breath you had been holding.

…

“I don’t know if your treatment is working, Shuri.”

The princess was busy working on a new project. With heavy protective goggles on, and a wicked grin, there was no telling what she was up to. Carefully, Shuri shut the lid on it, and spun towards you.

You held up the bloody fabric, and Shuri frowned.

“Ah, Y/N, Sergeant Barnes’ brain will take more work than his body.” She said, scanning the blanket.

“He claws at himself while he sleeps.” You replied. The memories of his episodes were so clear in your mind. For a man who was fairly quiet and calm, in those moments he was mechanical and unflinchingly cruel. It was the first time a cold feeling settled in the pit of your stomach and it was truly awful.

Shuri was periodically glancing up at you as she read Bucky’s file. The farther she read, the more the princess looked puzzled. She clicked her tongue, then suddenly clapped loudly. The sound made you jump.

“Shuri!” You hissed. The girl was bouncing on the balls of her feet, animatedly. An especially devious smirk made its way onto her face.

“He is from New York City, ah! The city where dreams are made of!” She sang. Her off key version made you cringe at first, but a smile soon replaced it.

The Wakandan princess’s bubbly mood was the thing you enjoyed most about her. She was always so excited to explore and plot anything she wanted; it was refreshing to see.

“Take Sergeant Barnes to the market! It is a city environment to remind him of home.” Shuri exclaimed wildly.

Your eyes widened in horror at her suggestion. Shuri lit up, her ideas kept coming.

“He needs you to go with him. It can be a date!” You nearly choked.

“Princess Shuri!” You cried out. It was actually more of a high pitched squeak.

You gazed down at the blanket. It’s rich brown color was tinged with a darker one. The sickly smell of blood—Bucky’s blood—still invaded your senses. Your job was to care for him while he was in your country’s custody.

You sighed and agreed.

…

Bucky knew something was wrong the second you found the blanket.

The slight downturn of your chin as the realization dawned on you—he should’ve buried it when he had the chance.

The scratches were deep this time, but Bucky healed fast. It had been just over eleven hours since they happened. He had since changed into new clothes, so as to spare you from seeing the gashes, but he didn’t have the tools to get rid of the blood on hand.

Bucky heard your approaching steps, and went out to greet you. It was the height of the late afternoon heat; the dark haired man could see you approach through the vapors.

He knew it had been a long time since he’d been around a woman as Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. That was the exact reason why he wasn’t used to how you looked then. Your deep brown skin glowed as you came closer. A gold armband sat on your upper left arm, shining in the sunlight. You had on a green two-piece, decorated in bright Wakandan prints.

Bucky missed his phantom limb during times like this. It meant he was still capable of being the smooth, confident guy from Brooklyn and not the mess he truly was. He shifted his weight, bracing himself for your arrival.

…

“Would you like to come with me to the market?” You asked.

You wouldn’t look up at him for more than a second, but you did sit near him during the escort over. On his left side, too.

Once you two made it to the market entrance, it was in full swing. Hundreds of people were mingling through the stalls. A woman was haggling a tailor for a shoddy job he’d done. The smell of spices and roots hung in the air.

You snuck a glance at Bucky, giggling at the curious stares he received. And what a strange sight he was—a very white man in Wakanda. It was unheard of.

“I was told you were from New York City. Manhattan?” You said.

Bucky turned to you, mildly offended.

“Brooklyn, doll. Real different.” He said. You watched him inhale, taking in the bustling vendors and patrons.

You put a slight pressure on his shoulder, leading him to a street show. The performance was fun and free as the drummers played their sing song rhythms. Even you felt the urge to sway your hips to the beat.

A crowd had gathered, stomping and clapping as they went along, growing more boisterous as the dancers went on. Lost in the moment, you failed to notice Bucky’s balled fists and his blank stare. The only reason you did, was because in the middle of your small dance, you bumped into a hard body. The way you bounced off of him jostled you back to reality.

You got him some water, pouring it on your hand and then on his forehead. The cold shock worked, but with it came those scared, disoriented eyes. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t try and steer the big man any direction. You never could, Bucky was just kind enough to oblige most times. This time, he seemed so splintered, he followed without protest.

You led Bucky into an empty alleyway.

“I’m sorry. Please, let me take you back.” You said, apologetically.

You thought it would help him, not this. You leaned back on the wall opposite to him, waiting for Bucky to decide what to do. Slowly, heavy breathing subsided and he lifted his head from the ground.

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t like it. I did. But the people and the sounds and the—I know I was raised in a big city, but it’s been a long time since then.” Bucky said, finally.

He met your concerned gaze and almost looked relieved. The man stood up to his full height in one swift motion.

“I don’t think I like them anymore.” He admitted in a low, gravelly voice.

Your heart sank at his omission. Bucky had no idea who he was anymore, or what made him happy. He needed some peace that didn’t come from his place at the river, that was too familiar.

“I know a place you might enjoy, but it will take time to get there.”

Bucky had complete faith in you, and nodded imperceptibly.

…

It was a quiet ride up the mound.

By now, it was nearing dusk. The sky was a vibrant mix of purples and oranges and reds. Bucky hadn’t spoken again, and you hadn’t pressed him.

“It’s an undeveloped hot spring, Prince T’Challa and I found it together as children. No one will bother us here.”

You stalked through the heavy foliage with a clear head, muscle memory guiding the way to the cave. You were very aware of Bucky’s silent presence behind you. He navigated the vegetation with ease, carrying the food and water in a basket.

You huffed just taking the towels and blanket, and he looked unfazed. The both of you finally reached the mouth of the cave as soon as the last rays of sunlight faded. You watched as Bucky’s face darkened in the dim light.

“There are lights on the far end, vibranium powered so they will last.” You said. Bucky had far better sight than you, and he successfully found and turned them on.

He pointed the bright light toward the cave ceiling, setting off a series of shadows and patterns above you. You smiled softly, satisfied with your work. Bucky was still shook up from the market, but once he stepped into the hot spring he physically seemed more comfortable.

“Don’t stay in too long, it could be dangerous,” you warned him. A blast of warm air hit you, and you laid down on the blanket.

“Got it.” Bucky replied.

Occasionally, you heard the sound of water sloshing around, but you were too lazy to turn your head. There was no one around for miles to interrupt the calm, so you finally closed your eyes.

You heard water streaming to the cave floor as Bucky drew nearer. You thought nothing of it, until you felt warm, sopping wet hands wrap around you. You gasped the intrusion—if you hadn’t known who it was you would’ve screamed.

Bucky pulled you into him. Your face rested on his bare chest, catching the heat emanating from his warm skin. You didn’t have time to freak out.

What he did next wasn’t quite like a cry. The noise was so soft you thought you misheard it at first. It was a strangled, ghost of a sob.

“I-I can’t stop saying I don’t know.”

Bucky clung to you, letting all of his frustration and pain roll off him in waves. You took your cheek off his chest, the warm water leaving your face hotter than normal.

You stopped Bucky before he could recoil—gripping his shoulder.

“Horrific things happened to you Bucky, and I am sorry for that,” you started, staring off at the hot spring behind him. Steam rolled off its surface and wafted upwards and into nothing.

“You are rebuilding yourself and that is alright.”

Bucky peered down at you with a hardened kind of fascination. His eyes raked over you and he broke out in a grateful smile. A true smile.

“Thank you.”

He paused as he regarded you, dropping his shoulders.

“Doll? Can I kiss you?” The request sent you toppling over on the inside. You swallowed hard.

“Why?” Your voice was small. It was the cost to stare Bucky in the eyes while you asked. He needed to see how dead serious you were. You could be fragile, too. You blinked rapidly in anticipation, trying to concentrate over the roar of blood rushing through your veins.

“You never asked me to be someone, now I can be someone else.”

Your jaw dropped. You mustered all the courage you had and met his lips. The kiss was hesitant and soft. There were no expectations, just a sweet moment for two people that needed more of them.

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 6

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

After Steve and Bucky helped you get everything unpacked, the three of you enjoyed some take-out. Pizza to be exact.  Well, the same pizza you had earlier with them.  You had been craving it for the last two weeks and your stomach was very happy.  

“Did you make your grocery list yet?” Bucky asked as he took care of the cleaning up.  

You couldn’t help but laugh. As you were unpacking the few items you had for your personal kitchen, you began playing with the screen on the refrigerator.  You couldn’t believe the high tech gadget and while it took you nearly an hour, you finally figured out how to add groceries to the list.  

“I did.  I’m surprised I was able to figure it out, it only took me about an hour,” you responded.

This made Bucky full out laugh.  “An hour? That’s actually impressive.  It took Steve here almost a month to figure it out before he finally gave up and asked for help.”

Trying to hide your smirk, you turned to look at Steve.  He had a scowl on his face as he was looking at Bucky.  “Let’s not forget I was frozen for 70 years.  I’m still trying to learn all this damn technology.”

Leaning over you pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple.  “Don’t worry about it Steve.  Other than my gaming setup, I’m not too big on technology either.”

~~~

“Dad, I’m home!” you called out to your father as you shut the front door to the run down farmhouse.  It was just the two of you now ever since your mother’s death one year ago today.  You didn’t want to go to school, you wanted to stay home.  Stay in bed.  But your father said it would be best to try and continue on like it was any other normal day.  It would never be a normal day.  Ever again.

As you turned the corner and into the living room, you saw him. Your father.  Dead.  Hanging from the wooden ceiling beam with a noose around his neck.  “Dad?” you choked out, not believing that this was happening again.  “No. No, no, no, no, NO!” you screamed as you ran to him.  Upon touching his leg you knew it was too late.  Way too late.  He was so cold to the touch.  It had been hours since he committed suicide and you weren’t here for him.  

“Why dad!  WHY DID YOU DO THIS!  DON’T LEAVE ME PLEASE!  DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE!!” you cried and begged but it was no use.  He too was now gone.  

~~~

You jolted awake by the feeling of hands on you.  Your breathing was ragged and you were dripping in sweat.  Both Steve and Bucky on either side of you; their eyes filled with worry.

“Are you alright?” Steve questioned.  

“How..did you…get in…here,” you replied as you tried to catch your breath.  These kinds of nightmares always made you feel like you had just ran a marathon.  

“F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted us that your heart rate was going through the roof.  You scared us half to death with your screaming doll,” Bucky spoke quietly in the dark room.  “You feel warm,” he said as he placed the back of his flesh hand over your forehead.

Shrugging him away as nicely as possible, you got out of bed.  “I’m fine.  I’m just going to take a cool shower.  Thanks for coming to check on me though.”

Inside the confines of your bathroom you opened the medicine cabinet and took out a couple of bottles. Filling up a glass of cold water, you placed the pills in your mouth and downed the entire glass.  

It had been months since you last had a nightmare.  To be honest, you thought they were finally done with, until you realized the todays date. Of course.  It was the anniversary of your parents’ death.  How could you have forgotten?  Oh right.  You had met your soulmates and spent the entire day moving into your new place.  Now you felt guilty for even forgetting in the first place.  

As you stripped of your sweat soaked clothing, you hopped into the shower.  The water mixed with your tears as you quietly sobbed and asked your parents for forgiveness.  

~~~

When you got out of the shower, Steve and Bucky were no longer in your room.  Instead, you found a little note on your pillow.  

We didn’t know if we should give you space or wait for you so we will let you make that decision.  Let us know if you need us to come back tonight.  Try and get some sleep sweetheart.  

Steve and Bucky

Even though the note was sweet and thoughtful, you knew instantly that you would not be getting any more sleep tonight.  

By eight in the morning you were still awake and scrolling through social media when a text from Bucky came in.  

Bucky: Breakfast in the communal kitchen?  Everyone would like to meet you.

Oh god.  You were dreading this part.  You had already met Natasha, but to meet everyone else all at once? Anxiety began to creep over you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet them, it was that you had anxiety about meeting people for the first time.

Y/N: Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready

Jumping out of bed you headed for the closet to try and figure out what to wear.  Was this casual?  Or was everyone going to be wearing their pajamas?  Did you want to dress to impress them?  Or did you want to be yourself?  You went with the latter, figuring if you were going to all be living under the same roof, they might as well get to know the real you.  

You put on a pair of black skinny ripped jeans and a plain forest green t-shirt.  Slipping your feet into your comfortable black flats, you were about to head out the door when you took a look at yourself in mirror.  Steve would blow a fuse at the dark circles under your eyes.  So you quickly placed some concealer under your eyes.  

Steve and Bucky were waiting for you in the kitchen and the three of you headed down to the communal living area.  They didn’t ask you about your nightmare and you were grateful for that.  

The elevator doors opened and for once, your stomach growled at the smell of breakfast in the morning. You loved breakfast food, but you weren’t big on eating in the morning.  Now breakfast for dinner, that was something you could eat every night.

Steve cleared his throat and everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the three of you. Instantly you felt your face heat up.

“Everyone, this is our soulmate Y/N,” Steve spoke loud and clear.  He began pointing everyone out for you.  “That’s Tony, Pepper and Bruce.  You know Natasha of course and right there is Clint and Darcy.  Thor and Jane are still on Asgard but you’ll meet them another time.”

You awkwardly waved.  “Hey everybody.”

Tony was the first to come up to you and he shook your hand.  “Tony I can’t thank you enough for my rooms here.  They are perfect.”

He waved his hand like it was no big deal.  “Please. My gift to you.  And that is why I pay my interior designer the big bucks. She knows what she’s doing.  Now, if you need anything, anything at all, just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y and I’ll make it happen.  Happy to have you here kiddo.  Maybe you can keep those two out of trouble huh?”

“I’ll try,” you chuckled.

Just then Bruce came up and the two of you exchanged quiet ‘hellos’ before he and Tony were off to their lab, food and coffee in hand.  

“Hey, now that you’re here, maybe Cap will stop being such a grouch all the time now that he’ll get laid,” Clint blurted out and as quickly as the words left his mouth, Natasha smacked him upside the head.  “What? It’s the truth.  No offense Steve but you have been a real crab ass the last few months.”

“Shut up Clint!” Darcy spoke as she shoved him out of the way.  “Hi there.  I’m Darcy. Darcy Lewis.  Just ignore him.  He doesn’t think before he speaks.”

In that moment, you knew you were going to be good friends with Darcy.  “Nice to meet you Darcy.”

“Now I hear that you game, is that correct?” she began to say as the two of you piled food onto your plates and sat down.  

The morning didn’t go as bad as you thought.  The only downside was that it now seemed Steve was in a bad mood because of Clint’s big mouth. At least you were getting to know Darcy and Pepper and they both were really nice.  

Darcy asked you a lot of questions about your job and gaming.  She had even asked if she could sit in on a night that you worked so she could watch everything.  Of course you said she could.  Hell, it would be fun to have Darcy there.  

You were starting to get tired after not getting much sleep so you excused yourself and went back to your room.  Tonight would be the first night that you will be working at the tower and you wanted to try and get some rest.  You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.  

“Is everything alright sweetheart?” Steve’s voice startled you just as you were about to open your door.

“Jesus Steve, don’t sneak up on me like that,” you replied with a hand on your heart.  

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.  I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright.  Especially after last night is all.”

Dropping your hand from your chest, you gave him a tight smile and put your arms around his narrow waist, pulling him in for a hug.  “I’m ok Steve.  Just a little tired is all.”

He placed his chin on your head and held you in his arms.  You felt safe against him.  Like nothing or no one could ever hurt you.  You were starting to realize that maybe single life wasn’t what you truly wanted. Single life was just something that you had become accustomed to over the last year.  Maybe being in a relationship again would be better for you.

[maddiewritesstucky]

hello! i would like to know that if your bucky in silver steve universe is into feminization?

(please ignore me if you have written this before, i just got struck with this idea after reading that frat evans/silver daddy thing)

if he is into it, what if one day they do decide playing college where silver daddy is The Professor and baby buck is The Student but bucky walks in with a damn mini school skirt with white thigh high socks and a white transparent shirt? he has some cherry colored lip gloss on his lips and his hair is beautifully and masterfully messed up,,,, he's all smooth too 👀

do you think silver daddy would stand a chance? because i can see him going "this why i said i wouldn't deserve you. goddamn, baby, look it them gorgeous legs" 👀

thank you 😌 lmao

Okay so when I wrote Silver Steve saying that, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to that possibility of what college role play would actually look like for these two.

I don’t see this pair as one for feminization, (my mind did immediately shift your slutty uniform suggestion onto my SugarVerse Bucky though, because those two would absolutely get amongst that 👀) but I think if Silver Steve and Bucky were to attempt some kind of professor/student role play, it would end up going a little something like this...

***

“Mr Barnes, right on time. Please come in...close the door behind you.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen as he steps into the study, taking in the scene before him. 

Steve’s gone all out - moved his desk away from the wall to sit behind it with an empty chair on the other side; wearing his thick framed reading glasses and a goddamn tweed vest that he’s pulled out of nowhere. He’s staring Bucky down with his fingers steepled on the desk and a grin not nearly as well contained as he probably thinks it is, and it only serves to remind Bucky just how out of their element they both are here. 

“Professor Rogers,” Bucky bites back his own smile as he closes the door, shutting them both into the impromptu ‘office.’ “What’s this about, sir?” 

He saunters forward, casting his eyes downward to the stack of opened mail Steve is sliding across the desk with a sigh. 

“It’s about your latest assignment,” Steve gestures at last month’s power bill,  “you wanna tell me why you were so late handing it in?” 

Late, of course Steve’s playing it this way. Bucky almost wants to break character and kiss Steve right now for his inability to even pretend like he’d ever find Bucky’s work subpar.

“I’m sorry, professor, I’ve just found myself a little...distracted, lately.” Bucky circles round the desk, bypassing the empty seat to perch instead right in front of Steve, on the desk’s edge. “I hope this isn’t going to affect my grade?”

He walks his fingers up the line of Steve’s arm, and Steve as good as giggles.

“Well I’m not sure Mr Barnes, this is the second time this has happened, I’m starting to see a pattern here…” 

He tries to furrow his brow as he looks up at Bucky, but his eyes are sparkling, and honestly...this whole thing is a little ridiculous. 

The whole idea started as a joke, really. But then it turned into a ‘maybe this could be fun’ and eventually a ‘hold up, this could actually be hot’ the more Bucky thought about it. 

But his fantasies had failed to factor in the realities that a) they don’t do role play, and b) Steve will always and only ever be Steve, regardless of circumstance.

“Is there anything I could do to make up for it?” Bucky husks, as seductive as he’s able while trying not to laugh. “Maybe there’s some kind of arrangement we could come to?”

He leans in and tucks his face into the crook of Steve’s neck, trying to hide the way his cheeks are pinking up, and Steve’s hands come to settle on his hips. 

“I suppose you could, uh, focus harder…” Steve clears his throat, tipping his head for the press of Bucky’s lips, “apply yourself…”

“Apply myself? To what should I apply myself, professor?” 

Bucky works his lips up the line of Steve’s jaw and slips his hand down Steve’s chest, and he feels the exact moment Steve freezes at the downwards trajectory of his touch.

“Um...summer school?” 

“Summer school?!” Bucky can’t help the sudden outburst of laughter that bubbles up. “Steve, this is supposed to be a sex thing!” 

He pulls back to watch Steve burying his face in his hands, smothering a groan. 

“God, I know,” Steve laughs, “but this is so unethical! This professor is a creep!”

“It’s fake!” Bucky’s giggling now too, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him into a hug as Steve physically shudders and recoils from his own imaginary behavior.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let me try again,” Steve steels himself, pulling back and shaking himself off, “I can do this, just...be the predator...” 

His glasses are sitting slightly askew on his face now, and the vest is even more pilled and ill-fitting up close, and Bucky’s laughter is the only thing that’s realistically gonna get any harder here. 

“Stevie, let’s just...chalk this one up to experience,” Bucky grins, wiping at the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. 

But Steve shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Bucky and tugging him into his lap. 

“No! I can do this!” he laughs, slipping his hands around to grope at Bucky’s ass, “See? Look, I’m being a creep! Take your clothes off or I’ll fail you!” 

“Steve!”

“Get naked right now or I’ll revoke your scholarship! Show me your...your entire...nude body!” 

“Steve!” Bucky’s gone for it, crying with laughter and squirming away from the kisses Steve is pecking all over his face and his neck. “Wait, I got a scholarship in this scenario?” 

“Obviously,” Steve grins, “top of your class. And if you wanna stay there you better make it worth my while, you...devious student.”

“Devious student? That’s not even remotely se—” 

“I will give you straight A’s for the entire rest of the semester if you let me see your bottom!” 

“Okay, we’re done here,” Bucky traps Steve’s beaming face between his hands, “this is not happening. I love you, but role play is cancelled indefinitely!” 

“Really? I kinda felt like I was getting the hang of it th—” 

“Indefinitely,” Bucky kisses him square on the mouth, smile to soul-deep smile, “but if you wanna take me to bed, as just plain old you and me? That I can allow.”

“Fine,” Steve sighs, scooping a giggling Bucky up with him as he stands, “but I’m keeping the vest on.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Smalltown Bringdown 3

Warnings: blood, violence, groping, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new job does not offer the stability you crave.

Note: So, I’m thinking 4 to 5 chapters. I had another migraine last night which meant an early sleepy time for me. I work today so I’ll be running around as you guys get to read this! To those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your mother wasn’t happy about your new job. Neither were you. Yet, you couldn’t tell her why you accepted the job at The Asp or what Bucky said; what he had implied. You fed her some tripe about the pay and benefits and you didn’t lie when you said it was all you could get. He made sure of that.

You were dressed all in black; jeans, long-sleeved tee, a pair of narrow toed boots. You were nervous. You liked The Saucer because it was quaint, you dreaded The Asp because it was anything but. A biker bar, the seediest place in town where boozers and gamblers alike spent their cheques. Your mother always told you to avoid the place. For good reason; your father had never returned from that very bar.

You ran your hands along your stomach and down your thighs. You took a breath and pulled on your jacket as you turned away from the mirror. Your mother was in the kitchen, just home from work. You walked through and Ash danced at your feet. The speckled Dachsund always thought a coat meant he was going on an adventure.

“Before you leave,” Your mother said as she wiped her hands.

“Not really hungry, mom,” You grumbled.

“I know, I know,” She rounded the counter and grabbed her purse. “It’s not food… for once.”

She pulled out a small cylinder and held it out.

“Is that mace?” You chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” She shoved it into your hand. “Any of those boys start giving you a hard time, you give ‘em an extra spray for me.”

“Mom.” You shook your head. She wasn’t making you any less nervous.

“Ash has a good sixth sense. He didn’t like that man one bit,” She crossed her arms. “And I’m inclined to share the sentiment.”

“Mom, look, this is what I got,” You grabbed your own bag and dropped the mace inside. “And you know if I got him as my shadow, no one else is gonna give me anything.”

“You be careful, honey,” She grabbed your shoulders and drew you close. “Maybe… apply to college again.”

“Mom, it’s a little late for that and you know I can’t afford it.” You hugged her and pulled away. “I can handle myself. I have so far.”

“God,” She touched her forehead. “You sound like your father.”

You stuck your tongue out at her and went to the door. 

“Mom,” You turned back, “I love you. It’ll be okay.”

“Love you, too,” She said glumly, “I’ll leave your dinner in the stove.”

“Alright,” You took a step out into the hall, “Thanks.”

💀

It was almost dark out as you walked up to The Asp. You stood across the street and looked up at the moniker. Cleopatra was chipped and faded but her eyes shone beneath the spotlights. It was more Liz Taylor than the actual queen. You crossed the road and held your head up as best you could as approached the bouncer.

“Here for a job,” You said plainly. He didn’t bother to card you.

“I heard,” He grumbled as he pulled a smoke out. “The man’s in there somewhere. Waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Lonny,” You pushed through to the dim barroom. 

Lucy was pouring a pint at the bar for a man in a tattered flannel. He slid his money across and she returned his change. He tossed a few coins over the wood and took a swig. You neared and leaned a few feet away from the man. Lucy wiped her hands on the towel tucked into her apron tied around her rounding stomach. A pregnant barmaid was a peculiar sight.

“Hey, didn’t believe him when he said you were starting,” She smiled as she waved you around. “Grab an apron,” She pointed to the pegs along the wall. You grabbed a plain black smock and tied it around your waist; pockets big enough for a notebook and change, though it reached no further than the middle of your thigh. “I’ll show you the ropes; figure if I can get it, you can.”

“Figure you’re right,” You followed her behind the bar. You glanced at her faded roots that topped her yellowed bleach blond hair. Little different than the girl who’d gabbed loudly in the back of your Lit class. 

“Beer,” She pointed to the shelf of pint glasses, “Wine,” She continued to the stemmed ones, “Whiskey, scotch, liquors. Me and Bobby do most of the pouring so you worry about beer and serving.”

“Alright,” You followed along and she turned around. 

“Just as they’re labeled,” She pointed to the taps. “This is water, soda,” She touched the hoses along the counter. “Grab a cloth and a tray. Looks like we’re startin’ to get our usual crowd.”

“Thanks,” You said and she gave you a mocking smile.

“Oh, and there’s a little closet just inside the kitchen. Put your stuff in there.” She advised.

You did as she said and took your small notebook and pen from your bag. You grabbed a round tray and a cloth from the stack of folded linen. You tucked it in your pocket along with your notebook and went back to the barroom. Lucy glanced over at you as she rubbed her stomach and nodded to the group of men around a table by the far wall.

You smiled at her and strutted around the bar. You recognized the man with his back to you. Steve Rogers sat with four other men, their voices a buzz that permeated the bar. You held back your venom as you approached and stopped just by his shoulder as you greeted them with your simulated cheer.

“Can I get ya anything?” You asked.

“Beer, the us--” Steve began but as he looked to you his voice died. He smirked. “Hey, doll.”

“Hello,” You said to the table. “So, what’s the usual?”

“Just a bud,” He turned in his chair and slung his arm over the back. “Well, pardon me, I just… seeing you here is… funny.”

“Funny.” You repeated. “That it is.” You looked to the rest of his party. “And the rest of you?”

“Coors,” Danny raised two fingers in a half salute and the rest of the men chimed in as you tallied their order in your head.

“Right, I’ll be back.”

You spun and felt a light pat on your ass. “Thanks, doll,” Steve said and you ignored him, not even missing a step.

You went to the bar and leaned your tray on it. “A Bud, two Coors, and two whiskey neat.” You said. “Extra foam on the bud if you can.”

She scoffed and went about her work. “That Steve’s silly but he means no harm.” She said.

“Mhmm,” You pursed your lips. “No harm at all, eh?”

She handed you the drinks one at a time and you set them on the tray.

“Really, not so bad here, once you get to know them,” She sang. “And it’s good to be on their side.”

“I’m sure,” You balanced the tray and turned away.

You returned to the table and smiled as best you could. You began to unload your drinks; whiskeys, Coors, then the single Bud. As you leaned in to set Steve’s pint before him, you felt another brush along your ass, followed by a pinch. You paused and sneered at him.

“Sorry, doll, hand slipped,” He smirked.

“Yeah?” You looked at his beer and dumped it in his lap. “Oops, hand slipped.”

He stood and the beer dripped down his jeans as he looked down in shock. The bar was silent but for his cursing and you backed up as he pulled the wet hem of tee away from his stomach. “You little bitch.”

“Sorry, it’s my first day,” You grinned. “I’m still getting the hang of things.”

“Don’t be fucking smart,” He lunged at you and grabbed your arm. Your tray clattered to the floor as he yanked you close. “You work for us now, means you belong to club. You belong to all of us.”

He turned you and gripped the back of your neck as he forced you against the table. He squeezed until you bent over and gasped in pain. 

“Get off of me!” You tried to kick out at him blindly.

“Do you know what that means? Hmm? Belonging to the club,” He slapped your ass with his other hand. “Boys, you wanna have some fun tonight?”

“She doesn’t belong to the club,” A deep voice cut through the dull music rising from the jukebox. The air stilled and you breathed heavily against the wood. “Let her go, Steve. I’m sure it was an accident.”

“She poured beer on me.” Steve growled.

“And you pinched her ass. Must have scared her and caused her to spill on you,” Bucky’s boots sounded across the floorboards as he neared. “It was an accident, wasn’t it, honey?”

He came up on your other side. 

“Y-yeah,” You sputtered. “Yeah. Like you said.”

“See?” Bucky said. “So, let her go.”

Steve released you roughly and huffed. You stood and Bucky bent to pick up your tray. He held it out to you and you took it with a mumbled thanks. 

“Steve, go get dried off and she’ll get you fresh pint,” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Oh, and let this be a warning.” He squeezed and looked around at his men. “She’s not the club’s. She’s mine. Any man finds his hands wandering and they might just find them gone.” He said through his teeth. “Got it?”

The men agreed at once, a flurry of ascent. You backed away and quickly retreated to the bar before he could turn his attention on you. Lucy’s eyes were wide as she watched you.

“I didn’t know were his,” She gaped. “You’re a lucky girl.”

“I’m not,” You snarled as leaned on the bar. “Go on, need that Bud.”

💀

At the end of the night, you cleaned up the empties and wiped the tables. You counted your tips and yawned as you zipped up the coins in your purse. You hung your apron and helped Lucy with the bar. You grabbed your jacket and signed the time sheet. She said her goodbye and waited for Bobby to finished in the kitchen. 

You headed for the door but were stopped by your name. You turned slowly as Bucky stood at the other end of the bar. “Gotta talk to you.” He said.

“About?” You asked.

“My office.” He replied. “Just work stuff.”

You tried not to roll your eyes and shrugged. He turned and you followed him across the barroom. He led you into a room opposite the restrooms. He waited for you to enter and was sure to close the door behind you. You paused and glanced over your shoulder. His hand rested on the knob as he watched you.

“Go on, sit,” He gestured to the leather chair that faced a desk. “You been on your feet all night.”

“To be fair,” You stayed where you were. “I’d rather just home and go to bed.”

“I know this isn’t home but the bed part I can accommodate.” He snickered. His arm rubbed against yours as he passed you and sat on the other side of the desk. “We gotta go over a few things about this job.”

You sighed and dragged your feet to the chair. You sat and crossed your legs as you hugged your purse. You stared at him without emotion.

“You understand those men didn’t try anything further because of my say so,” He pointed to the door. “Now, I could’ve let them and what do you think would happen? Who would stop it?”

You gulped and stay silent.

“You know the cops, they don’t come here for nothing more than a drink,” He shook his head. “Maybe a bit of pool but they don’t come here to work, you understand?”

“Yes,” You uttered quietly. “I understand.”

“I didn’t have to do that. Didn’t have to claim you but you went and poured that beer all over Steve. Like you want him to do something.” He laughed. “Trust me, you don’t want that.”

You looked away and shifted in the chair.

“But I did it because I don’t want anyone else touching you. As the leader of this club, I share many things, I make sure my men have what they need, but you are mine,” He said the last three words deliberately. “I know you don’t get it, not yet, but you will.”

“You’re fucked,” You hissed. “This place, is fucked. Who are you? King Shit of… Birch? Birch?! This pile of trash.”

“I’m the king of your world,” His jaw ticked. “Now, I can be… a kind king and patient even as you… adjust but you don’t talk to me like this in front of anyone. I mean it because the moment that tongue lashes out I’m gonna have to lash back.”

You shuddered and looked down at your purse. “I just…” You slowly looked up. “You tellin’ me you can’t get a woman who wants to be here? The standards around this town aren’t that high.”

“I can get anyone I want,” He smirked. “And I think you’re just realizing that, honey.”

The breath went out of you. The tone of his voice, the heat in his eyes. You struggled not to look away. You bit down. His eyes drifted down and his lips parted hungrily.

“We’re just about finished here but one more thing,” His voice was dusky. “There’s a dress code. Jeans and short sleeves. A nice hint of what’s beneath… skirts at the thigh.” He ran his tongue across his lip. “Now, you can go… should go before I change my mind.”

You stood. Your nerves bounced around your chest wildly. You gripped your purse and nodded. 

“Got it.” You muttered.

“Right. See you tomorrow night,” He sat back and pushed his legs apart. He winked at you as you neared the door. “You have a good one.”

“You too,” You eked out before you slipped out. 

You closed the door behind you and stumbled numbly through the barroom. You couldn’t get home quick enough.

💀

When you got home, your mother was asleep. You were thankful for it. She would ask you how your night was. You didn’t wanna talk about it. Ever. Didn’t want to think about the dread of those to come. The fear that bubbled in your stomach. So unfamiliar to you. Growing up in a small town, there wasn’t much to be afraid of because every day was the same.

You turned the stove on and waited for the ravioli in the glass pan to heat up. You took it out and sat alone at the table. The light overhead shone a spotlight on you as Ash snored in the hallway. You ate without tasting. You opened the book you’d left on the table and opened it to your mark. 

‘I'm as pure as the driven slush.’

You laughed to yourself and swallowed. Lu was right, Tallulah was funny. Cynical. And ballsy. You admired her. You wondered for a moment how she would deal with this life. With this town. Well, she never belonged in a small town, she would’ve found her way out.

You cleared your plate and rinsed it. You set it in the rack and checked the doors. They were locked. An old habit; some would call it a compulsion. They said in small towns people don’t lock their doors. In this one, they always did.

When you were a girl, your father gone, the reason obscured from you, you imagined it was the monsters that hid in the night who took him from you. In a way, that was true.

You were tired but restless. You couldn’t help but hear Bucky’s words in your head. See his eyes staring back at you; menacing and dilated. A predator tracking its prey. That’s what you were; you both knew it. There was no way out.

Your mother said you took after your father. Had he died protecting her too? Or for his own selfishness? It didn’t matter, he’d left you both behind.

[marshunter06]

As promised, I’m here to bug you for a song fic. Any song off Lover by Tay Tay for Romanogers please and thank you! 😘

You are so incredibly sneaky, but it worked. I’ve listened to all the songs off the album now. Full disclaimer, I really meant to use Lover, but my muse had other thoughts.

This can also be read as a prequel to my fic “These Are The Moments I Cherish” https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828147

Death By A Thousand Cuts- Taylor Swift

“Eyes up Rogers. We got company.”

Natasha says easily as she dodges a knife being thrown. She gives Steve a smile before launching into an attack at her would be foe. Sam takes him down before Natasha even has a chance to strike.

“You two can go back to flirting, I’ve got this handled.”

Sam quickly turns back towards the threat leaving the two love birds to roll their eyes.

“Can’t let him have all the fun. Come on Old Man.”

She smiles at him once more.

Steve wakes up with images of his partner fading once again. He barely remembers stumbling into his bed. He has a massive headache from the Asgardian mead Thor brought. He knows it won’t help, but it was one of the ways she used to cope, drowning herself in vodka until she passed out. His heart aches just thinking about her. He still can’t bear the thought that she’s really gone. He keeps thinking back through the memories they made, he’s never been more grateful the serum gave him perfect recollection.

She said she’d see him in a minute, she lied. Tears threaten to fall as he thinks of their last exchange. He never got to tell her how he felt, not that she didn’t know, but he never said the words out loud. He knows that she felt the same, but they missed their chance. He wishes he could be with her, going on like this is torture. It’s death by a thousand cuts. She was his anchor, helping him hold on, and now he’s lost.

“Meet me downstairs in five. We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping? For what?”

“Some new clothes. No offense Steve, but you really don’t blend in with your old fashioned tastes.”

“It has been seventy years Nat.”

“Exactly, so we’ve gotta catch you up with the times. First rule of espionage, always dress the part.”

She winks at him before turning away towards the elevator.

He spaced out in the shower. Reluctantly, he turns off the water. He steps out with a towel to his closet. He takes his time picking out an outfit. He settles on a plain grey shirt and jeans.

He skips breakfast in favor of going to visit Tony. The snap almost killed him, but luckily the suit helped him survive long enough for them to get him help.

He makes it to his cabin fairly quickly despite taking the scenic route. Pepper opens the door with a smile and lets him in to where Tony is resting in the bedroom.

“Hey Cap, didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Sorry for just dropping by, just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright.”

“I could be a lot better, but I could also be dead… shit, sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Are you okay Steve?”

“I don’t know… I still see her everywhere. I catch myself saying things to her as if she’s still here. I can’t let go of her.”

“What’s on your mind soldier?”

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.”

She touches him lightly on the shoulder, concern clearly written on her face. He turns to her with a frown.

“You’re not really here Nat.”

She smiles at him and he wants to believe it’s real. He feels her hand on him, it has to be real.

“Wherever you are, that’s where I am.”

“Steve?”

He snaps out of his vision, he apologizes for spacing out again.

“I know this isn’t easy, but you know she wouldn’t want to see you like this. You look like shit. Drinking isn’t going to help. I would know and so does Natasha.”

“I know. Every time I think of her, I feel a knife cut into my heart. She’s not here and I can’t pretend to be okay.”

“Death by a thousand cuts. That’s what it feels like.”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

He wakes up before her, he always does. She usually wakes up soon after, he cherishes those few minutes with her sleeping peacefully in his arms. Her eyes flutter open to see him looking at her lovingly.

“Morning.”

“It’s almost noon.”

“Well, I had a long night.”

“We did have a long night.”

She pretends to be confused.

“Hm… we? I think I might need a little refresher on what happened last night.”

“You know that we’re late for a group meeting with Sam and Wanda.”

“They can plan things on their own, I adapt well. If you insist on going…”

He cuts her off with a kiss, he had no intentions of leaving the bed. They were on the run, and while it’s nice to have a plan, things changed too quickly for them to actually follow through with them. All he needs is her beside him and he would be okay.

My heart, my hips, my body, my love

Tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug

Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united we stand

Our country, guess it was a lawless land

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

Paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust

Tryna find a part of me you didn't take up

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough

But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

“She never gave up, maybe you shouldn’t either.”

“I would never give up on her.”

“You still have to return the stones, there’s gotta be something we can do to bring her back.”

Even after talking with Tony, he still turns to the alcohol in the barrel. He was almost done with it anyways, it’d be a shame for it to go to waste. He tries to hold onto hope that he can bring her back, but a part of him still worries that it won’t be enough.

I get drunk, but it's not enough

'Cause you're not my baby

I look through the windows of this love

Even though we boarded them up

Chandelier's still flickering here

'Cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not

No, it's not

It's death by a thousand cuts (You didn't touch)

Tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch

My body, my love, my trust (It's death by a thousand cuts)

But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough, no, no

“You really should put that down. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“It’ll wear off in time.”

“Steve, I’m worried about you.”

“And I’m worried about this failing. I’ll stop drinking if you tell me this is going to work.”

“I can’t do that. I don’t know that it’s going to…”

I take the long way home

I ask the traffic lights if it'll be alright

They say, "I don't know"

The next morning, he’s up and ready to go in his uniform. He has to try, living without her was too painful. He’s willing to do whatever it takes, even if it means he doesn’t make it back.

“Nat…”

“Steve.”

[megalony]

Fractured pieces- Part 7

Another part of my single dad! Roger Taylor series which I hope everyone is enjoying so far.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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

"Alright, is that everything you want to take?" Roger questioned, looking to James who had set out a small pile of clothes, his colouring book and a brown paper bag containing the presents for his grandparents. James had never been out of the country before going on tour with the band so he had gotten a few souvenirs. His favourite was postcards, he loved collecting them and now had all the ones from the different states on his bedroom wall. He got a few extra ones and some magnets as presents for his grandparents and was finally going to stay with them since it was the weekend.

Whilst they were away Freddie had helped his nephew come up with an idea. (Y/n) had been on almost every tour with the boys and when they reached a new stop she would take photos or have Roger take a photo of her in front of a landmark or a corner shop. Roger had given those pictures to James before the tour and Freddie suggested James get photos of either himself or Roger in the same places as (Y/n) on the photos.

They didn't get a lot of free time on the stops but they had quickly jogged around wherever they were, matching the photos to the landmarks and then James would snap a photo of Roger in said place. He wanted ones to match so he had a set for each parent.

"And photos." James chimed, picking up the envelope that held the photos of (Y/n) and the newly developed ones of Roger. His fingers skimming over the envelope as if he were holding actual magic between his fingers. A delicate smile pulled at Roger's lips as he could suddenly see (Y/n) in the dainty smile on his son's lips that made his heart flutter. Reaching out Roger started to pack the few items James had gotten out for him before reaching out for the envelope. Placing it carefully on top so they wouldn't get crumpled or damaged in any way.

"All done, you take this down and I'll get the backpack sorted, okay?"

Nodding, James took hold of the bag Roger had neatly packed before turning and trotting out of the room as the drummer followed behind. They had been back home for a week now and it was taking a little time to readjust to being home again. The temperature change set off James' bad chest again since he had gone from extreme heat to suddenly being faced with the deadly cold back home in London. Jet lag hadn't been easy for the first day or two but they were slowly getting back into their normal routine. Part of that routine was James staying with (Y/n)'s parents on a Friday night, they'd usually pick him up from pre-school but he wasn't back until next week.

Roger had tried over the past four years, he tried for James' sake to be civil with (Y/n)'s parents and he had proved on every occasion that James staying with him was the best decision. There was always going to be that slight tension between them but they were getting along well enough and that was what mattered. They all wanted what was best for James.

Going down the stairs, Roger grabbed James' backpack that was waiting on the shoebox near the door. Taking it into the kitchen as James headed into the living room to wait until Roger was ready to drive down. Going over to the island in the middle Roger set the backpack down and took everything out of it to check. They had a weekly check to make sure James wasn't running low on any medication. Roger took his time opening each tablet bottle, shaking them and counting to make sure. He opened the medicine bottles, seeing that he was running low on cough medicine which was very likely since James seemed to drink the medicine every day on tour. The drummer jotted down what was needed before checking the two inhalers. There was a purple one and a blue one as one of them was for if James thought he was going to have an attack and the other was to stop an attack when it happened.

Turning around Roger rattled through the medicine cupboard and grabbed the new blue inhaler he had gotten just after they came home. Putting that one in the bag as he started to pack it back up, adding a few throat and cough sweets just in case. The drummer had made a point of labelling everything so James could start to learn what each one was for so if Roger wasn't there and no one knew he would have some indication of what he needed.

Lisa, (Y/n)'s mother was slightly perplexed when the drummer put a few pieces of paper in the backpack. One detailed what each medicine was and what it did and the other was instructions of when James could take them, in what dosage and what not to take with them. She knew Roger did that for James' benefit but a small part of him simply added it to show her he knew what he was doing and that he knew what was best for James. She knew by now what James should and shouldn't take but Roger always kept the lists in the bag anyway.

"Okay, I've put the new inhaler in the bag and I'll hang onto the spare one for now. The list is in and you've got enough of everything for now, we all set to go?" Holding out the backpack Roger waited like always, their routine being James would put on his jacket and then his backpack. Even though he needed to take it off for the car he always put it on before they left the house.

Going into the hall, James sat down on the bottom step to put on his shoes, smiling as he held his foot out to Roger silently asking for help with the laces. When they were done Roger grabbed his coat from his designated hook before James took his hand. The rather big house only held the two of them but everything was always kept organised. They had an R hook on the wall for Roger's coats, a J for James and since Freddie always popped by James insisted they needed an F as well. Roger couldn't hide the tears when James asked if they could put up a (Y) for (Y/n) even though she obviously wasn't there he still wanted a hook to hang her coat which Roger had kept. The drummer didn't know if it was some kind of coping mechanism or if James just wanted to feel like he had a mum instead of just a dad but either way, Roger complied with what he'd been asked.

It wasn't too long a drive down but both of them enjoyed the drive since it was filled with singing. James couldn't hold the long notes for very long and some songs left him out of breath but he always tried and it made him smile.

Roger forced a smile when Lisa opened the door, seeing her eyes light up at seeing the little boy in the drummer's arms. Setting James down to his feet Roger smiled as he reached out for a hug from Lisa before Roger handed her James' overnight bag. His Queen backpack settled neatly on his shoulders.

Roger had bought the bag little over a year ago since James had started to insist on carrying the plain bag that held his medication. Roger thought he could have his own bag to make him feel a bit better, to have that sort of control to take everything he needed around with him. He loved the bag and knowing it was important made him feel even better. Lisa had made the mistake of trying to take the bag from James the first time he turned up with it. She was going to hang it up or put it in the kitchen out of the way but James looked to Roger before almost bursting into tears. He didn't take it off that night until he had to go to sleep. Now Lisa just let him take it off whenever he wanted and put it down beside him, not letting it out of his sight especially now after the tour when they'd left it on the bus.

"He's got a bad chest today but he's had his meds." He informed before going down on his knees so James could hug him. "Right, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, trouble. Have fun." The nickname of 'trouble' from tour seemed to have stuck well with Roger, not that James minded since it always seemed to make him smile. Roger kissed his temple, ruffling his hair before pulling back and walking down the two front steps.

"Bye, love you, daddy."

"Love you too, trouble."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Snapping the elastic of his boxers over his hips Roger ran a hand through his partially dried hair before heading out of the bathroom. His hand gripping the bannister as he headed down the stairs at the sound of the phone that he only just heard with the vinyl playing in the background upstairs.

Roger had been out with Brian earlier in the day after dropping James off for the day and usually on Friday nights when he was free the drummer would either go out with Freddie or he would come round and they would have some drinks. Freddie and Roger both decided not this week since they just got back from tour and the drummer fancied a bit of peace for the night. It did feel weird not having James around since he'd gone three months seeing him every day and night.

Nights like these were weird for Roger, he liked the peace of being alone but at the same time, he didn't like not being without James. They had their routines at night that Roger couldn't always break out of. They watched a movie at six o'clock in Roger's room to help James settle before Roger got him ready for bed. It was different to not be calling for James to get a bath or a shower or grabbing him a glass of milk before bed. It didn't feel right not to be tucking James in and popping up every so often just to check that he was actually asleep.

Slumping down onto the sofa Roger grabbed the telephone, holding it to his ear as he tipped his head back on the sofa, wondering who was calling. He sat up straighter when Lisa's voice came through on the other end of the line. The conversation didn't last very long before Roger slammed down the phone, jogging out of the room to go up and get changed. Thankful he hadn't had a drink yet so he was able to drive and go to see what was wrong with James.

Roger couldn't quite tell if it was anything bad or not. James was crying and wanting to go home but whenever he was ill he called for Roger so that didn't mean this was that bad.

He couldn't quite keep the panic out of his system as he knocked a little too harshly on Lisa's front door. Trying to catch his breath back when she opened the door and beckoned him inside out of the cold. Once she had shut the door Roger turned to face her, one hand on his hip as he waited to be told what was wrong.

"Where is he? What's happened?"

"He's had his medication and cough syrup but he wants to go home, he has a slight temperature and tummy ache." She tipped her head in indication for Roger to follow her through to the living room. Her foot only just getting over the threshold before Roger bypassed her and speeded over to the sofa. Seeing James curled up on his side, a blanket wrapped around him as tears were quickly being shed from his eyes. His face was turning a blotchy red but Roger couldn't decipher if that was from the tears or the temperature he had.

"Daddy." He whined, instantly coughing as soon as the word passed through his lips but that didn't stop his arms reaching out for Roger. Sitting down on the sofa Roger gently picked him up, setting James down on his lap as the little boy pulled the blanket with him. Curling up against Roger's chest.

"Hey, baby. What's the matter, eh?" Roger cooed as he pressed his hand to James' temple, feeling that he was rather warm. It wasn't quite a fever but it wasn't good.

"Chest and tummy." He responded, burrowing himself into Roger's hold as he tugged the blanket a little closer around him indicating that he wasn't feeling as warm as the temperature he was running. Keeping James secure in his arms Roger leaned down to grab the backpack leaning up against the sofa they were sitting on, unzipping it as he glanced over to Lisa, silently asking what James had taken.

"Has he had one of these yet?" He asked, pulling out the IBS tablets since his stomach was hurting. Seeing Lisa shake her head as Roger delved back into the bag. "But you gave him two of these, right?" Roger confirmed, pulling out the silver and green packet that contained the tablets that James took for his chest. They were ones that he needed to take if he didn't have an infection yet to stop one occurring and to ease the pain he was clearly suffering. A frown took over Roger's features when she shook her head. "Christ, do you even read the labels when you give him one? He might have an infection, these stop that from getting worse. Here, baby, take these for me." Roger got out two of the chest tablets and then one for his stomach, placing them into James' palm.

Reaching to grab the Thomas the Tank engine cup that held orange juice which clearly belonged to James. Watching him shake his head as he swallowed them, pulling a face at the feeling he had grown accustomed to.

"What's he had to eat?" Roger asked, trying to calm down his growing temper. He thought by now they would have read the instructions he put in the bag clearly and known what each tablet in the bag did. Sure there were a few medications but at the end of the day, they thought they were better equipped to care for James so Roger expected them to do it right like he did.

"Fishfingers for dinner, a few cookies and some ice cream."

"Ice cream... was that before or after your tummy hurt, baby?" Roger questioned, leaning his head to look down at the little boy perched on his lap. Watching James lazily pull his head up to lock eyes with his dad.

"Just after." He mumbled before tucking himself back against Roger to the point he was almost fully covered by Roger and the blanket. Running a hand through his hair Roger shook his head, leaning down to put the medications back in the bag before zipping it up. Gently unravelling the blanket from around James, Roger helped him with the backpack before getting to his feet. Keeping the blanket around James to keep him warm as he turned to look at Lisa and Mark who stayed quiet, sitting in the armchair.

"I asked you not to give him ice cream or anything that cold and I specifically told you not to give him that if he had tummy ache because it makes his IBS worse. Thanks for ignoring me." The drummer huffed before wandering out into the hallway. Ice cream or ice lollies or anything that cold was alright in small amounts but they upset James' stomach and if his stomach was already hurting the ice cream would make it worse. Roger guessed due to his sudden temperature they all thought it would help but he had told them time and time again to listen to him about these things because Roger wasn't making it up.

Roger knew what James needed. He knew that he needed to go home now and have a bath since the heat always helped his chest and it would bring down the temperature. He knew James would need more cough medicine after that and then another tablet before he went to bed to settle his chest. Roger knew exactly what he needed to do for his boy and the very fact that they had insinuated four years ago that he didn't made his blood boil.

Heading out of the house Roger settled James into his car seat, letting him hug his backpack to his chest as he wrapped the blanket around him. Kissing his forehead gently before shutting the door so he could go and talk or rather argue, with Lisa for a moment.

"He has a temperature so we gave him a little ice cream and I gave him the cough medicine-"

"There's a list, Lisa! A fucking list. You're meant to follow that because it tells you what medication to give him and yeah ice cream is nice but not for James. It irritates his stomach and I'm trying to stop him eating dairy because he might be lactose intolerant." The doctor had told Roger on James' last visit that he could be lactose intolerant so lowering his dairy intake for a while would see if it reduced his symptoms. They were the same symptoms for his IBS so it was harder to tell but Roger was beginning to think he might be lactose intolerant so ice cream would only worsen his already delicate stomach.

Roger made the list for James' benefit not so much as to annoy Lisa, he needed her to do what he told her because if she didn't it was going to affect James and everything Roger did was for him. Reaching down for James' shoes Roger stuffed them into his overnight bag which he slung over his shoulder as he got ready to leave.

"If you want to keep looking after him you have to listen to me because I'm his dad whether you like that or not. I know what he needs and you don't." If this happened again Roger wouldn't be so happy to let them look after James because it wasn't just a cold or a tummy bug that was going to go away in a few days. This was James' life, he was four and he had to deal with all of these problems. He was Roger's life and the drummer made sure every day that he did everything he was meant to in order to look after his boy, he wasn't having anyone risking James' health.

Just as Roger turned to leave he stopped, turning back to look at Lisa for a moment. He couldn't seem to stop thinking about what they had said to him when they wanted custody of him. They kept saying James needed more care than a normal child and that Roger couldn't provide that, he wondered if they had really thought everything through at that time.

"And to think, you thought you were better to care for him than me." A cynical laugh left Roger's lips at the thought. How wrong they had been. "He belongs with me."

[i-am-the-gay-shit]

The Machine of a Dream

SO... I'm totally suppose to be updating 'My only Sun'... But I have writers block and can't force anything new yet... I've re-written the 4th chapter... like... 10 times... So I'm taking a break from that! (Sorry to anyone waiting for that update, I promise to try and get it before the end of next week!) I've been listening to I'm in Love with My Car, and this idea came to mind. Enjoy:) This is a Smut! (Maylor. Sex scene. Please read at your own risk! <3)

The scenery passed so quickly it was just a blur of dark shadows, brown, and orange. The Radio blared some new song by The Sweet as the wind whipped through the open windows.

His arm hung out the window and tried to flow with the wind while he moved his head to the beat. His brown, unruly hair flying all over his face, but he didn't care. Not when the moment was so perfect... Speaking of perfect…

Looking over, he couldn't help the smile on his face grow wider as that blonde hair danced with the wind and those pink lips were spread in a pearly white smile. Dark sunglasses hid familiar brilliant blue eyes which was slightly disappointing, but not terribly. Oh no. Even still, his boy always looked so... sexy while driving like this... His left hand lazily holding the top of the wheel while his right arm was propped on the open window, hand tapping the visor to the rhythm. Only changing his right hand to the wheel when his left hand needed to shift.

They were far from London by now, on some older road surrounded by plains of dead, brown grass thanks to the cold autumn that had settled. The wind around them definitely had a bite to it, but neither of them wanted to let go of the free feeling it gave them. Speeding down the lonesome road with the radio at maximum volume. Singing to old classics they had grown up to, brand new songs, and everything in the middle. It was bliss.

"That was 'The Sweet', yeah?" Roger had to pretty much yell over the wind and the radio.

"Yeah... 'Fox on the run', I think they said." Brian nods with a smile, having to raise his own voice as well.

"Huh... It was good... Liked the beat." He heard Roger comment to himself as the song switched to a much more familiar tune.

"The machine of a dream, such a clean machine

With the pistons a pumpin', and the hubcaps all gleam..."

One of their own. Well. One of Rogers. One Brian was originally against. The lyrics were just... very... awkward. But he had to confess... after hearing Roger record and sing it... God he was captivated. He always forgot what an amazing voice his boyfriend had... Bohemian Rhapsody really brought some light into Roger's range, but this song... the raspy, deeper vocals... did something to him…

"Heh. Bet you didn't expect to hear this on the radio." Roger commented louder than his previous. Brian could hear the slight bitterness to his smug tone.

"Actually... I'm surprised this is the first time I've heard it on the radio." Brian said with complete honesty, keeping his eyes front. Out of the corner of his gaze, he saw Roger take his sunglasses off and look over at him. Probably trying to figure out if Brian was really being truthful or being a dick.

"...Seriously?" Roger asked, making Brian look over. Their eyes locking before Brian reached over and pushed Rogers face so he was looking at the road.

"Yes, I'm serious, Rog. I made fun of you before I heard the song, but after... Babe, your voice just made that song for me." He smiled as he watched Rogers eyes flicker from the road, to him, and back to the road. Almost like he was waiting for a mean comment. But it never came. Brian just smiled fondly before leaning his head back against the headrest and watch the scenery rush by.



"I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile

I'm in love with my car, string back gloves in my automolove"

Roger switched hands on the wheel to downshift, but before he could take his hand from the shift Brin reached over and gently put his hand over Rogers. Neither said anything. They didn't have to. Both silently watched the road as their fingers slowly entwined. Roger kept his speed steady so he didn't have to shift and so they could keep their hands together for as long as possible. Brian knew Roger hated driving in the city because they could never hold hands like this, and he also knew Roger took a personal pleasure from their small intimate touches. But he loved those sweet touches too.

"Bri... I have to downshift." His voice was soft and almost completely drowned out by the radio which now was blasting The Beatles - Hello, Goodbye, honestly one of their personal favorites but now wasn't the time to bring it up. Something in the blondes soft voice made Brian unease. Not in a bad way, he just knew his lover enough to know that calm and quiet almost always came before a storm.

Slowly he untangled their fingers and allowed Roger to operate his car fluently. Slowly down shifting as they lost speed, until the were off and parked at the side of the road. The upbeat tune was the only noise at this point since the wind had died down. They just sat there without a word, enjoying the peaceful scenery and song, before Brian looked over at Roger. The blonde was nodding his head to the beat while looking out his window.

"...Roger, you okay?" He asked softly, reaching hand over to place it on Rogers hand which was resting on his thigh. Slowly the blonde turned to face him. Blue eyes locking with hazel. Roger didn't look mad. He honestly didn't have any specific emotion written on his face. It was just kind of... blank. But from his eyes, Brian knew Roger was relaxed. But something was bothering him.

"Rog?" He spoke up when his lover didn't make a move to reply. Roger just smiled softly after a moment.

"...I love you, Brian." He said softly. He couldn't even hear the radio at this point. All he was focused on were those simple words that made him smile ear-to-ear like a school boy.

"I love you too, Roger." Brian replied with a warm smile before they both leaned in for a kiss. It was simple and soft, just like the words they had spoken. One kiss... two... three... four... Brian honestly loved when he could count their kisses. He didn't know why, but it was just a small detail he couldn't get enough of... Which was quite opposite for the younger man who would much rather a quick pace kiss. The vast difference between their likes and preferences always made Brian laugh. He wondered how they made it work, but somehow... they always made it work. Not flawlessly, but it still worked.

They pulled away slowly, still facing each other as they leaned back in their seats. Eyes barely breaking contact.

"...Do you really like the song?" Roger asks softly, averting his eyes.

"Babe, I love it.... now." He admitted. Roger shot a glare at him, making him chuckle. He turned the radio down before continuing. "Hey. It's no secret I didn't like it before. But after I heard you sing it... I really came to love it." Now Brian averted his eyes shyly.

He looked down at the stick shift and studied the numbers and pattern on the little head as if he never saw one before in his life before he heard the small click of Rogers seat belt, making him look up.

"Rog-"

He was cut off by Roger leaning in completely and taking his lips into a deeper kiss than their previous kisses. Brian let a small shocked noise come from his throat before closing his eyes and accepting the sweet lips and intoxicating tongue. He heard another click and felt his own seat belt loosen.

"Rog-"

Brain tried again but was once again unable to finish his sentence before the blondes lips were on his again. He felt Roger shift in his own seat as he pulled away for a moment. Brian was about to take this opportunity to speak up again, but was taken by surprise as the small blonde easily slid from the drivers seat to his own... Happily straddling his lap. Their eyes met for a slight moment and a spark just just ignited. Their lips meeting quickly, teeth clashing in the heat of the moment and tongues dancing together. Rogers hands gently cupping Brian's face as Brian held his hips. Their position was uncomfortable as hell, but neither really cared as their lips connected and reconnected in a series of searing, passionate  kisses.

"Roger-" kiss "-Meadows-" kiss "-Taylor-" kiss "-Are we really-" Kiss "-about to act like a couple of-" Kiss "-horny ass teenagers, and screw mindlessly in the back seat of your car with the radio playing?" Brian was finally able to get his entire sentence out by turning his face from those invading and wicked lips, which only smirked at Brian.

"Why, my dear, Brian Harold May. We are not teenagers, nor will we be mindlessly fucking. I prefer to call it "passionate, hot, sexy, love making". And we're not in the backseat. We're in the passenger's seat." Roger smirked as he spoke in a smart-ass tone. But let out a surprised squeak as Brian slapped his ass gently.

"Alright, smartass. Are we really going to act like horny ass adults and have a passionate, hot, love making session in the passenger's seat of your car?" Brian corrected himself with a fake annoyed tone. The smile on his face told Roger that he wasn't truly annoyed, just playing.

"Uh. You forgot 'sexy'. But I'll let it slide." Roger giggled as Brian gently smacked the back of his head this time. "But yes. To answer your question: That's exactly what we're about to do. Are you against it?" Roger cocked an eyebrow with that devilish smirk on his lips.

"Not in the slightest. Just wanted to make sure I had the story right~" Brian cooed before catching Rogers lips in another deep kiss. This time their hands roamed. Brian let his hands gently cup the perfect curved of Rogers ass, loving the way the jeans fit him. While Roger wasn't wasting anytime and let his hands instantly start to unbutton the taller mans white shirt. It wasn't long until the shirt was long gone and thrown to the back. Rogers hands roaming Brian's broad shoulders, down to his arms, back up and down to his chest.

Brian let his hands rub and grip at the clothed ass of his lover, loving the small noises coming from the young mans throat. Especially loving the moan, breaking their kiss, when their clothed erections brushed against each other.

"Brian..." Roger breathed out before moaning again as Brian rolled his hips up, rubbing them together again, both of them moaning softly this time. Their lips soon met again with a new fire burning as their hips continuously moved against each other.

Rogers hand suddenly left Brian chest, reached down between the seat, and clicked a small button that sent Brian flying backward with the seat and breaking their kiss. Brian laid there in shocked for a moment, his brain slowly registering that Roger had made his seat go back, before being brought back to reality as Roger stripped off his shirt with no problem and threw it to the back. He suddenly hoped no other cars decided to take this back road for a Saturday drive, because he knew all they would see is Roger... Though from a far, he was sure Roger would look like a woman anyway...

"Hm... Distracted~?" Roger practically purred as he leaned down and kissed at Brian's neck.

"Kind of..." Brian hummed, enjoying the small assault on his neck. He loved when Roger licked and kissed at his neck...

"What's on your mind~?" Roger smirked against the skin before licking and giving a small bite, making Brian groan softly.

"Well..." Brian started but stopped as he let in a sharp breathe from the feeling of Roger's teeth on his neck. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm thinking about my hand on your grease gun~" Brian teased. He felt those lips stop dead in their tracks before Roger pulled away so that he was sitting up. Face in his hands and shoulders shaking as if he were crying, which made Brian sit up as best as he could. He didn't mean to make him cry!

"Rog, babe, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be-" He started off in a panic before he heard a small giggle. Slowly he realized the blonde wasn't crying, but laughing. Slowly Roger removed his hands from his face and was laughing so hard his face was red and tears started to form in his eyes. This made Brian start to laugh too.

"I-I could have gone all fu-fucking night without hearing that, Brian!" Roger laughed out, trying to steady and calm himself which only made him laugh harder. Brian was laughing just as hard at this point.

"Yo-you're the one wh-who wrote the bloody lyrics!" Brian tried to say clearly between laughter.

"Doesn't mean you have to whisper them to me during sex!" They both laughed for a good minute or two before calming down. "Bloody, idiot..." Roger said in a whisper, smiling and shaking his head.

"Aw, but you love me?" Brian said innocently, laying back and giving big puppy dog eyes.

"You know I do." Roger smiled before leaning down and kissing Brian again, not as deep as before, but still a nice kiss.

"Wait. We have a situation to take care of before we start kissing again." Brian said softly, pulling away. Roger gave a confused look. "Your pants. They need to be off, Love."

"Oh... Yeah, I guess that's how sex works, huh?" Roger laughed softly. Brian smiled and nodded with a small hum. His hands making quick work of the blondes button and zipper, helping him struggle out of the jeans and underwear before tossing both in the back with their shirts.

"Well, that was a bloody nightmare." Roger huffed before straddling Brian again.

"Yeah? Imagine if we were trying to make out and do that at the same time." The taller said with an amused smile on his lips.

"Yeah, yeah." The blonde huffed again before opening the glove box and grabbing something. "Before you stop us again for something, here." He said before tossing a bottle of lube onto Brian's chest.

"I-.... Why do you have lube in the glove box?" Brian smirked, but Roger just rolled his eyes

"For when I have my hand on your grease gun." Roger said sarcastically, but Brian didn't have time to laugh. Their lips were pushed together and dancing again before he could register anything. His brain finally caught up and he took the lube from his chest. Opening in and pouring some on his hand without breaking their kiss.

He wrapped his left arm around Rogers waist as his slick, right hand brushed against his entrance before thrusting his first finger in. Roger moaned into their kiss as the digit easily entered him; his body still loose from their previous encounter. Brian knew he really didn't have to prepare his lover, but felt the need to anyway. If only to push Roger as close to the edge as he could get him before...

"Brian..." Roger gasped out, breaking their kiss. The older man just hummed before allowing a second finger to slip in, loving the gasps and whines coming from his lover as he moved his fingers in a scissor motion. He only spent a moment like this before thrusting a third finger and moving the fingers in out out easily.

"Fuck~! Brian..." Roger moaned out all of a sudden, making Brian smirk.

"Hm? Right there?" He asked as his fingers gently teased the same spot. Roger moaned out and whined. "What was that, babe? You need to use your words..." Brian cooed, his fingers brushing that spot again.

"Ah-ahhnn, fuck, Brian, right there... please..." Roger manages to moan out.

"Of course." Brian hums before letting his fingers continuously brush against his lovers prostate, not letting them hit full on, but definitely enough to making the man above him a moaning mess. He marveled at the way Roger's body arched slightly and hips pushed back against his fingers. The way his head leaned back and how he bit his bottom lip, like that was going to keep him quiet.

"Want more?" He asks softly, receiving a small whine as an answer, making him chuckle. "Okay..." He says before removing his fingers and grabbing the lube. Rogers fingers already working his zipper and pants just enough to pull his aching cock out. Humming softly, Brian poured some more lube on his hand before tossing the tube in the back seat and stroking his erection. Groaning softly at the cool, wet feeling. Though he didn't enjoy the feeling for long because Roger grew impatient and smacked his hand away. But Brian couldn't complain when he felt Roger's warm heat surround him slowly... well... he could complain, but he sure as shit wasn't about to.

Groaning out, he closed his eyes and enjoyed his lover slowly taking all of him. The way they fit together was just perfect.  Brian couldn't be sure how long they took or when exactly Roger was completely seated on his lap, but he was in heaven the entire time.

Gently gripping on his lovers pale hips, he moved his hips softly. As if trying to ask permission to move without words. Roger gasped softly before resting his hands on Brian's shoulders to steady himself. Slowly lifting himself up, until the head of Brian's cock was almost ready to slip out, before letting gravity guide him back down. They both moaned and moved together, Brian slowly thrusting up and Roger sinks back down. Both trying to find a comfortable position before speeding their rhythm up. Soon the only sound that filled the air around them was the lewd, wet sound of their skin meeting and both of their moans.

"Brian~~! Fuck~! Right there, babe~" Roger moaned out, throwing his head back in pleasure. Brian gripped his hips tighter before thrusting up harder, right into his sweet spot. Roger moaned out and quickened his pace. Brian could tell the blonde was already close and just let him take the control he needed. Slamming down and speeding up, pleasuring them both. He had no complaints and enjoyed laying back in pleasure; watching that blonde hair bounce softly, eyes close tightly, and mouth hang open slightly. He could probably come at that sight alone...

"Ffffffffuck, Brian~!" Rogers voice whines and moans as he rides his lover like no tomorrow.

"Go on, babe... Roger, come for me... Come on, babe..." Brian encourages softly between moans. Roger didn't need to be told twice before tightening around Brian's cock and coming, riding out his orgasam as Brian moans and bucks his hips up. His own release flowing close behind.

"Fuck..." Roger pants out, letting himself slowly relax. Brian's hands gently massaging his hips. Without anymore words, Roger laid down and snuggled to Brian. Both enjoying the quiet of the evening.

It was around 1 am when they finally got back to London. Both walking side by side, arm around the others waist, into their shared apartment for the band. Neither was surprised to see the TV or their two bandmates snuggling on the couch.

"We were wondering about you two..." John said softly, not taking his eyes off the action packed, cheesy movie playing.

"We just took a drive..." Brian said simply. John's eyes flickered to Brian and then to Roger, noting their messy hair and clothes. But he didn't say anything, instead he just looked back at the TV, not even wanting to know what the two really did.

"Oh, guess what we heard on the radio today..." Freddie muttered sleepily as they two walked past the couch and to the stairs.

"With my hand on your grease gun?" Roger whispered before bursting into a fit of giggles, making Brian smile widely and bite his lip to try and not laugh. The comment didn't go unnoticed by their friends, but again John just looked at them before looking away, shaking his head. While Freddie just looked over in a confused, sleepy state of mind, before John simply just put his hand on Freddie's head and guided him back to lay on his chest. Trying to ignore the giggling duo headed for their room.

[hearts-hunger]

“D’you need a pencil, love?”

Part Five || Masterlist

Summary: You and Roger have a study date at Kensington Market, and Freddie gets to dress you up to his heart’s content.

Pairings: College!Roger x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: None!

A/N: Ok lovelies! Here’s part five. I feel like it’s not super great because I got a little in the weeds about the details (as I tend to do) and I didn’t really know how to end it, but I hope you like it! ♡

“Alright, so... molecular mass.”

You groaned and laid back on the artfully thrown pillows and blankets piled in the corner of the shop where you and Roger had set up camp. Technically the mismatched rugs and pillows were for patrons who wanted to lounge while their friends tried on clothes, but Freddie had waved you and Roger over to the corner when you’d arrived. Kensington Market had the feel of a Middle-Eastern bazaar all fit under one roof, each of the shops side by side and packed full with exotic and bohemian items. The shops had been placed in such a way that they created winding, narrow streets between them; it felt like a different world entirely from the city just outside. Both of you had happily settled in the corner of the wondrously cluttered shop, your textbooks and a bag of fries - or, rather, chips - between you.

“What about it?” you asked.

Roger laughed. “Define it, you goose. Tell me what you know about it.”

You sighed dramatically. “Um... it’s the sum of the mass of the elements times the number of atoms in each element.”

“Okay,” Roger said. “Right out of the textbook, at least you’re good at memorizing.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

He gave you an amused smile. “Yeah, but d’you know what it means? If I picked a molecule right now, could you calculate the mass?”

You wilted. “Probably not.”

“Hey,” he said consolingly, moving closer to you. “It’s ok. You will, if I have anything to say about it. Look, let’s practice one.”

He closed the textbook and grabbed a loose leaf of paper from your binder, scrawling a few example molecular formulas across it.

“None of these letters and numbers make sense to me, Roger,” you said morosely. Through the course of your study session, as much as you loved spending time with him, you’d been worn down to defeat by the number of times you messed up an equation or misremembered the definition of some term.

“They will, love,” he assured you. “Give yourself some time.”

You watched his face as he continued writing you some practice questions. “Promise you won’t get fed up and decide not to help me any more?”

He looked up at you. “I promise. You could get the answer wrong a hundred times and I’d still help you try and figure out the next one.” He smiled. “Besides, I don’t think you’d let me kiss you if I said I’d help and then left you to your own devices the moment you mixed up an equation.”

“Who said anything about kissing?” you teased, though you liked the idea. You'd found yourself dreadfully distracted in class that morning, replaying the feel of his lips on yours.

His expression flickered with worry. “Do you not want to? I mean, it's perfectly fine if you don't, I just thought with last night and all - ”

“No, last night was wonderful,” you assured him. “I really liked it.”

His face softened as tipped your chin up, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“We can go as slow as you like,” he said gently. “No rush, love. All I want is to be with you, get to know you.”

“That’s what I want too,” you said, enchanted by his blue eyes and his soft features and his fingers on your skin. “You know, you can get to know someone pretty well by kissing them.”

He gave you a crooked smile. “Is that a fact?”

“Hm,” you agreed. “Maybe you should try it some time.”

He chuckled. “Maybe I will.”

He leaned closer to you and kissed you gently, his fingers softly running down your neck and under your jaw. When he pulled back, he smiled at the dreamy look on your face.

“Can we just do that instead of chemistry?” you asked.

He bit his lip. “You don’t know how much I want to say yes, love, but...”

You sighed. “Ok, ok. Let’s do chemistry.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “How about, for every right answer, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“No fair!” you said. “I’m terrible and you know it.”

He laughed. “I have a few discretionary kisses I can use if I feel you’ve gone too long without one,” he said. “But you’ll get better and you’ll get more and more answers right as we practice, I promise.”

“Okay,” you agreed, warmed by his sweet reassurance and the promise of more kisses.

“Atta girl,” he said. “Here, try this one.”

You spent the next hour or so working on equations; as he’d promised, you did find them a little easier every time. He corrected your mistakes with grace and praised you when you got things right, kissing you between words of encouragement and pride. It was by far the most enjoyable study session you’d ever had, and you looked forward to many more over the course of the semester.

“Look how easily you figured that out!” Roger said excitedly as you finished the last problem on the homework assignment. “All by yourself, love, and not one mistake.”

You blushed, beaming with pride. “All thanks to you.”

“Nah,” he said, dismissing that with a wave of his hand. “I’m just here to help. You’re quick once you get the basics down, and that’s all I’ve given you. The rest was you.”

“Do you think we should try some more?” you asked.

“We can if you want,” he said. “Or we can be done, since we’re finished with the homework.”

“Oh, do say you’re done, darlings,” came Freddie’s voice. Both of you looked over to the register to see him leaned on the counter, his chin propped in his hand. “I’ve been waiting ages for you to finish.”

“We’re done,” you told him.

He brightened. “Wonderful!” he said with a grin. “I’ve got so many things I want to try you in, darling, I’ve been making a list of them all day.”

You helped Roger pack up your school things and put them in your messenger bag; he brought it over to the register and stowed it behind the counter.

“You and Y/N go have your fun,” Roger told Freddie. “I’ll mind the register.”

“Hm, you’re actually going to get some work in today?” Freddie teased.

Roger laughed. “I seem to recall you slacking off work to be with Mary more than once, mate.”

“Who’s Mary?” you asked, coming over to where they stood.

“Fred’s girl,” Roger told you. “You should meet her, you’d like her.”

“I’m bringing her to the show tomorrow,” Freddie told you. “I told her all about you last night and she’s dying to meet the girl who turned Roger Taylor into the biggest softie this side of the Thames.”

You hid a laugh behind your sleeve as Roger blushed.

“Come on, my darling,” Freddie said to you. “Let’s find you something absolutely outrageous to wear tomorrow night. Roger, dear, go help that poor chap over there in blazers. He looks absolutely lost.”

You looked over to where the rack of blazers were towards the front of the shop, seeing that the young man browsing it did seem a little overwhelmed with the variety of colors and materials.

Roger smiled. “On it. Come show me whatever you try on.”

He made his way over to the customer, starting up a conversation easily as he started to point out the different styles and what they might pair well with. Roger himself was evidence of the fact that clothing could be artfully mismatched and look amazing. He showed the customer how he’d paired his plain black shirt with his dark blue jacket patterned with white flowers. You’d complimented him on it when he came to pick you up; it looked good on him with his worn-in jeans and a simple necklace around his neck.

“Roger’s quite the salesman,” Freddie told you, a hint of pride in his voice.

“You trained him well,” you said.

Freddie smirked. “Damn right, darling.”

Freddie’s style was a walking advertisement of how the myriad of eclectic second-hand clothes that filled the shop expressed a vibrant personality in the wearer. If you couldn’t tell Freddie was a bit outrageous in the best kind of way by the way he talked or the glint in his eyes, you could certainly tell from his outfits. The look today was a black and white polka dot shirt with a flowy red overshirt and tight black pants, bracelets jangling on his wrists as he took your hand and led you to the dressing room at the back of the shop.

“I’d like to start from the ground up, my dear,” he told you. “Not that I don’t like your outfit - it’s a very cute dress on you - but I’m going to completely make you over.”

You laughed. “I entrust myself completely to your artistic vision.”

He grinned. “That’s the spirit. Go on in and I’ll bring you something.”

You did as he said, drawing the curtain closed behind you and slipping off your dress. Freddie handed in a lacy green dress with huge poofy sleeves and silver butterflies embroidered across it.

“Brian, darling!” you heard Freddie say as you put the dress on. “What brings such an eminent scholar to our humble establishment?”

“I’ve brought you a present,” Brian said. “Who’ve you got in there?”

“Y/N,” Freddie told him. “They finally got done with homework and now we’re playing dress up.”

You stepped from behind the curtain to show off the dress, twirling slightly. “Good? Bad? Horrible?”

Freddie’s eyes widened. “Not at all, darling, it looks marvelous on you! Don’t you think so, Bri?”

Brian gave you a sweet smile. “It’s very nice, Y/N.”

“Oh, I know just what it needs,” Freddie said excitedly. He went to grab a scarf and tied it in your hair like a bandanna. “How’s that?”

You looked at your reflection in the mirror and smiled. “I love it.”

“Naturally,” Freddie teased. “I am a style expert, after all. Go show Rog.”

You turned and looked to see if Roger was still with the customer and saw he was ringing him up at the register. You hung back until the customer left, not wanting to be in the way; no sooner had the customer taken his things than Roger turned his attention to you, a smile lighting his face as he looked you up and down.

“What do you think?” you asked.

He bit his lip, trying to hide a smile. “To be perfectly honest, love, when I saw that dress on the rack I thought it was hideous.”

You gave an incredulous laugh. “Roger Taylor!”

He laughed. “Now, no need to get upset, if you’d give me half a second I’d have told you that all it needed was the right model to make it absolutely breathtaking.”

You blushed. “Well, for the dress’ sake, I hope it finds someone pretty to wear it.”

“It won’t find someone prettier than you, love,” Roger said easily. “In fact, I think - ”

He cut himself off, his attention drawn from you. A second later your attention was diverted too - the music that suddenly filled the shop was nothing like you’d ever heard before. Freddie and Brian were standing at the turntable shoved into a spare space on one of the shelves that lined the wall, looking at each other in wonder at the sound of the song they’d put on.

“Who is that?” Roger asked. “That run down the toms is bloody marvelous.”

You assumed that had something to do with the drums; you didn’t have the ear to isolate that, but the lush, driving sound of the song was really something. You continued to listen, thinking of who it could be.

“Here come old flat top, he come groovin’ up slowly,” came the lyrics. You gasped.

“That’s John Lennon!” you said excitedly. “Is this their new album?”

Brian looked over at you with a grin. “Yeah, it’s just come out today. ‘S called Abbey Road. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

“What a sound,” Roger agreed, an awed tone to his voice. “It’s not like anything they’ve done before, is it?”

“Tim can’t say they’re not rock ‘n roll now,” Freddie said.

“No,” Brian agreed. “This certainly proves that wrong.”

“Keep it playing while we work, darling,” Freddie said to Brian. “Unless you have to hurry off?”

“I came to look at shoes, actually,” Brian said. “Rog told me you got some new ones in.”

Freddie smirked. “Yes, dear, there’s a pair of clogs in there I think you might enjoy. I put them over with the others, go have a look.” He beckoned to you. “Come, darling, I’ve got another dress for you.”

You went back over to the dressing room, trying on the dress he handed in. You tried on lots of different things - dresses, skirts, flouncy shirts, leather pants, and everything in between, modeling your looks for the boys but beaming especially under Roger’s lavish praise. Abbey Road played as you laughed and joked and made fun of each other’s fashion choices. Roger nearly had a heart attack listening to Ringo’s drum solo, insisting on moving the needle to play it again. A few customers came in and either Freddie or Roger took care of them.

“Now that’s the look I’ve been going for,” Freddie said to the latest outfit you’d tried, a white top and frayed jeans with the most extravagant shawl you’d ever seen. It was the one Freddie had mentioned to you last night, a silky blue thing with tassels on the hem and beading across the back that made it look like a spread of peacock feathers. It was your favorite thing you’d tried on so far.

“I knew it would look dazzling with your eyes,” Freddie said, teasing out your curls a bit. “You’re a perfect model, you know? Much better than anyone I ever had at school.”

“Because I’m so willing to trust your artistic instincts?” you teased.

He smiled. “That and because you’re a darling little thing to work with. You’ll have to go model for Mary some time - she’s dying to try some new looks with the spring line at Biba.”

“Mary works at Biba?” you asked, impressed. You hadn’t been there yet but you knew its high-end reputation.

“Mmh,” Freddie agreed, replacing one of the shirts you’d tried on earlier to its spot on the rack. “She loves clothes nearly as much as I do. It’s why we’re a perfect match.”

You smiled. “Just that?”

He smiled back, a hint of bashfulness in it. “Well, that and the fact that she’s a divine and wonderful creature I could never deserve in a million years, and she somehow chose me to be her love. That makes me pretty well besotted with her, as you can imagine.”

“She sounds lovely,” you said, endeared to his obvious love for her. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“You’ll have a grand time, darling,” Freddie said happily. “We’ll all get to be the best of friends, and if ever poor Brian can find a girl, she can be our friend too.”

“Oi, I heard that,” Brian said from across the shop.

“As intended, darling,” Freddie said airily. You giggled and he gave you a conspiratorial grin.

“What’s got your funny bone, then?” Roger asked, coming over from the register after finishing up with a group of girls buying jewelry. “Not talking about me, I hope?”

“Oh no, darling,” Freddie said. “We can’t very well make fun about you being single, can we?”

Roger smiled as he glanced over at you. “No, I don’t suppose you can.”

“Oh, we’re officially an item now?” you teased. “Whatever happened to taking it slow?”

He laughed. “You’re the one who said we should get to know each other by kissing.”

You blushed. “Yeah, well...”

He gently tweaked your cheek. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind, love. In fact, I think it’s a bang-up way to get to know someone.”

You would have leaned in to kiss him right then and there had it not been for Freddie’s dramatic sigh.

“God, I do feel so ignored when you two get within three feet of one another,” he keened. “I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse.”

Roger smirked but didn’t take his eyes off you. “I think you’re right about that, Fred.”

He took you gently by the chin and kissed you; your hand went to his chest of its own accord, lightly brushing over where his heart beat, steady and strong. He was right. This was a bang-up way to get to know someone.

Freddie gave both of you an exasperated smile when you broke apart. “Yes, yes, you’re very sweet. It’s lovely. Can I have my model back now?”

Roger laughed. “Sure, but this outfit’s missing something.”

“Don’t be silly,” Freddie scoffed. “If you’re so smart, then, what does it need?”

Roger reached to unclasp the necklace he wore, a small silver disk on a chain, and let it dangle from his fingers. “Needs a bit of flash, that’s all.”

Even you knew that the last thing your outfit needed was flash - the beading on the shawl sparkled as it caught the light every time you moved. But that wasn’t was this was about.

“Turn around,” Roger told you gently. You did as he said, letting him put his necklace around your neck; you shivered at his touch as he moved your hair from under the chain, his fingers brushing the back of your neck.

“There,” he said, nodding to your reflection. “Perfect.”

You felt the same, seeing you and Roger together in the mirror. Your hand went to the trinket round your neck, feeling the metal warmed by its contact with him, knowing you’d be hard-pressed to ever take it off.

“You’re going to be out of a wardrobe soon,” you joked, your voice soft with affection, thinking of the shirt you’d put back on after your shower last night just so you could have his scent of smoky sweetness around you.

He chuckled and kissed your cheek. “I don’t mind.”

You smiled. “Thank you. I love it.”

“You’re welcome, love,” he said sweetly. “I couldn’t let Freddie have all the fun.”

You laughed as you looked over at Freddie, who had busied himself with re-hanging clothes to give you and Roger a moment.

“Do you think this is good to wear to the show?” you asked him.

He smiled. “If you like, my darling. You’re taking home this one and some of the ones you really liked, and any of them look lovely so it’s up to you.”

You blushed. “I didn’t bring money with me.”

He waved you off. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of making you pay for letting me dress you up. Besides, it’s good advertisement. When people ask you where you got styled, send them to me.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“You’ll find I’m hardly ever not,” he said smartly.

You smiled. “Thank you, Freddie.”

“You’re more than welcome, my dear,” he said. “Roger, help her pick out a snappy pair of shoes to go with that, won’t you?”

Roger smiled as he offered you his arm. “Shall we?”

You let him lead you towards the front of the store where the shoes were, Roger stopping briefly to compliment Brian on the white nail polish he was working on at the counter.

“White’s a bold choice,” he said appreciatively.

“Um... thanks,” Brian said, a bit distracted as he carefully painted another coat. “Thought it’d make my solos a bit flashier, you know.”

He nodded to the shoes. “There’s some blue heels in there that’d look good with that, Y/N,” he said.

“That’s where we’re headed right now,” you said. “We have to complete the look.”

You heard him chuckle as you and Roger crossed to the shelves fairly bursting with different kinds of shoes, looking through them to find ones that might go with your outfit.

“What classes do you have tomorrow?” Roger asked you.

You thought for a moment. “Well, chemistry, obviously, and then two more classes. Why?”

He shrugged. “After chemistry, I’m headed to De Lane with Bri and Tim, so I thought if you weren’t busy, maybe you’d like to come hang out.”

“What’s De Lane?” you asked.

“Oh, ah, recording studio. De Lane Lea, technically. Mercury Records wants us to put down a few songs, and you could come if you like.”

“Can I?” you asked. “I mean, would they let me in?”

“In the booth, yeah,” he said. “I mean, now I’m thinking on it, I won’t be able to spend a lot of time with you since I’ll be in the studio, so I guess it wouldn’t be the most fun in the world for you, but - ”

“Roger,” you said with a smile, saving him from his progressively more apologetic rambling.

He blushed and looked over at you. “Sorry.”

You took his hand. “I’d love to come,” you assured him. “I’m not done till 2:30, but if you’ll still be there, I’d love to come listen.”

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” he said. “Do you really want to come? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You smiled. “No, it’ll be fun. I’ve never been to a recording studio before. And I can just stay with you until the show, right?”

He beamed. “Of course you can. Do you know where De Lane is?”

“No clue,” you said. “But my roommate probably does.”

A flicker of worry crossed his expression. “I don’t want you to get lost,” he said. “Maybe I should come get you.”

You had to admit that the thought of travelling around London by yourself was intimidating, but you wouldn’t dream of disrupting their recording session.

“It’ll be fine,” you assured him. “It’ll be good for me to see the city. I don’t get out much, you know.”

He chuckled. “Can’t say that any more, can you?”

“I’ve been out more in the past 48 hours with you than I have the whole semester so far,” you told him.

“And you’re loving every second of it, hm?” he teased.

You smiled. “I am, actually.” You stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I really like being with you, Roger.”

He lightly touched the place you’d kissed, his cheeks rosy with warmth. He gave you a shy smile. “I really like being with you too, love.”

Read Part Six!

taglist: @onceuponadetectivedemigod @somekindofroger @dashlilymark @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg @crushthewiredlove @marvel-lously @rogertayolr @strawberryfields-forever 

[sunnyie-eve]

Somebody To Love (Part 11- Galileos)

(Ben!RogerTaylor)

Word count: 1,998

Warnings: Language

—————————————————

"You hate it too, don't you." His head falls when he sees my face after he read all the lyrics to me. "I don't hate it... it's just... it's your kind of song and not something I would jam out to." I pick his head up. "It's not terrible, Roger. Just a tad weird and funny. But since you like the song so much, I shouldn't shit on it. Before anyone judges it, I think they should wait to hear the final project." I smile at him to cheer him up. "So you like Brian's cheese lyric more?" He raises an eyebrow at me. "Not really. I like Deaky's song the most." I smile at him and he hits me.

"Of course you do. You love Deaky more than me and Brian." He lays back in the grass. "I do not! I love you all equally!" I slap his leg and he sits back up. "I call bullshit, you've gotten with the two of them in the pass." He smirks at me. "When did you find out about Me and Deaky? We didn't tell any of you." I look at him shocked. "Anytime you two drank around us I always say the glances between you two. Then you both say you're ready for bed. I mean, I found it obvious while the others were clueless." He laughs and I roll my eyes at him. "Why did you keep it to yourself for the last two years?" I ask him resting my arms on my knees.

"Wasn't my business to tell people. You two were secretive about so." He shrugs his shoulders and I smile at him. "How are you and relationships working out? You're the only one without a girlfriend." I wink at him and him hit me, "What about you? You don't have a boyfriend." I roll my eyes. "Tell me, when do I have time to meet guys? I'm always doing stuff for you four on tour and in the studio." I lay back on the grass looking at the sky. "Well it's sorta the same for me too. Touring, studio, so I don't have time to actually get to know someone. The girls I get with are just for fun, and they don't want anything but that." He lays next to me looking at me.

"Well we both suck at finding someone." I laugh then fell him hold my hand. "We'll find someone at some point." He says looking up at the sky. "Yeah, everyone has someone out there for them. It just takes time to find that person." I look back up at the sky again. We stay like this till we hear yelling in the distance, "WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU TEO DOING! WE HAVE WORK TO DO!" I sit up and see Paul scream at us in the distance. "I'm never going to like him." I say standing up then help Roger up. "Me neither." He wraps his arm around me shoulder as we walk back.

~

"Busy day today lads!" I hear Paul yell walking through the house banging on a few doors. "Right, it's Brian's day in the recording studio." I stretch in bed making sure not to hit Roger. I get out of bed and grab clothes to change into. To be honest I didn't mind about changing my trousers in front of Roger, but I go to the bathroom to put my shirt on.

We all make our way to the recording studio and Paul stops me. "Why don't you do your job and make us some coffee." He smiles and pushes me into the kitchen as they carried on. "Why don't you do your job and make us some coffee." I mock him while I start to make coffee. "Thank you, Alice." I hear Roger behind me and I turn around to see him sitting down. "You're welcome, Roger." I smile turning back around. "That's what I forgot to talk to you about yesterday on the hill. Why don't you call me other names? Brian is Bri and John is Deaky. I'm just plain old Roger." He turns me around to face him. "I don't know? Now go before Paul yells at me." I shove him away from me.

Once the coffee was finished I brought everyone their coffee. I put Brian's on the table since he was already playing. "Thank you darling." Fred takes his drink and I hand Paul his. "You're Welcome." I give him a fake smile before going to sit next to Roger on the sofa. As Brian plays I lean back into the sofa tossing my legs on Roger's lap and he smiles at me. Once everyone finished their coffee they went straight to drinking alcohol. "Alice, make me a glass." Paul hands me his glass and I take it from him and pour him another one. "Here." I hand it back at him and sit next to Roger again.

"Give me that." I take the cigarette out of his hand and take a drag off it shocking him and Deaky. "You don't smoke." Roger says turning to look at me. "Nope, but I needed a drag." I say eyeing Paul who was eyeing Fred like he was some candy. I give Roger back his cigarette as Brian finishes he part he was on. "That was pretty damn good. Brilliant, I loved that." Fred says but didn't press the button. "Press the button, Freddie." Me and Brian say at the same time.

"It's good umm... play it like you wrote it." Fred tells him. "Well I did, I wrote that part." Brian says sorta confused. "Taking the piss." Fred laughs and I catch Paul glare at me. I give him the what face and he turns away, "I was smoking that!" Roger complains as I pull the cigarette out of his mouth to take a puff. "Quick your whining rockstar." I backhand his arm and he rubs it. "Here you go baby." I shove it back in his mouth and lean back crossing my arms over my chest. I just want to ring his neck and hang him from a tree. Ugh Paul!!!!

Fred tells Deaky to start the tape again and he does what he's told. Roger looks back at me and slightly smiles. "What are you smiling at?" I ask him completely annoyed because of Paul. "You're just too cute when you're grumpy." He squeezes my thigh and I just glare at him. I sit up and take off his sunglasses, "Why do you have theses on inside? You look ridiculous, you know." I smile at him placing them on top Of my head. "Because I can. They go good with your outfit." He smiles at me as he takes a sip from his drink.

"We came here for no distractions, so would you two stop flirting with each other. Alice, go make us something to eat." Paul turns to face us and I had enough with him. "I'm not flirting with him, and I'll go make everyone but you lunch. Because I like everyone but you, also everyone is busy and you're not. You're just looking at something you want." I flip him off walking to the kitchen to make some fucking sandwiches. "I should literally just quit. I'm done, with his bloody fucking mouth." I talk to myself alone making the last sandwich.

"Don't do that, I'll miss you too much." Roger scares me as he was standing right behind me. "Don't you ever do that again! You almost gave me a heart attack." I hit his chest and he grabs my hands, "Hey, fuck Paul. He just needs to piss off." Roger says in a calm voice nodding his head. "Yeah, into a blackhole where he can never leave." I say in a serious tone making Roger laugh. "See, this is why I love you so much." He pinches my cheeks as I just stand there. "Because I'm rude and a bitch?" I ask confused. "No, because you don't put up with shitty people." He says taking the sandwiches off the counter.

~

Today was Roger's turn in the recording studio and while Fred made him do one part. I helped Brian with his puzzle books sitting on the couch with him. "How was that?" Roger asks. "Freddie?" Deaky asks Fred, "Higher." He says and me and Brain look at him. "Can you go a bit higher?" Deaky asks Roger in the studio. "If I go any higher, only dogs will hear me." He tells us. "Freddie's note, sorry." Deaky tells him, "Go on, roll the tape." He says not wanting to.

I stand up and walk up behind Deaky to watch Roger better. "Higher." Fred says again and I point my hand up to tell him higher. "Jesus! How many more Galileos do you want?" Roger asks getting to the annoyed point. They do more and more overdubs while I just start to laugh at Roger. "Who even is Galileo?" He asks putting his hands in his hips. Deaky goes on and tells him a few more and we wait for Fred to say something. "My nuts feel like they're in my chest right now. Are we done?" Roger asks and I get a huge grin holding in my laughter or else I hear Paul's big mouth. "That's it. He loves you." I say as Deaky presses the button.

After Roger finishes the other parts Fred wanted him to sing, he rejoins us flopping down on the chair. "Hey, if you want your nuts to go back where they belong... I can punch you hard enough in the chest." I joke and his get out of his chair to hit me. "I saw you laughing at me the whole bloody time." He drags me over to the chair so he can sit down with me on his lap. "Well I can't lie and say I didn't." I laugh and he hits my arm again. "We should get back to work now." Paul looks at me and I roll my eyes. "Let us have the rest of the day off. It's Alice's 25th birthday." Roger hold me close to him. "We're already behind on schedule, No." He says standing up now. "It's alright if we stop for today. Roger already finishes his part." Fred says leaving the room clapping his hands.

"You're going to make the band fail." Paul looks straight at me. "Hey, I think you should knock it off now!" Roger raises his voice at Paul. "Why should I and why are you standing up for her? You want to get in her pants? Has she not shagged you yet like... I assume the other two?" Paul laughs and Roger careful removes me to stand up. "Listen here you-!" I run up to him and Brian jumps between the two, "Don't even talk about Alice like that again. She's not one of those girls." Brian points how finger at Paul and Deaky walks over to us. "Just don't ever talk about her or tell her what to do. She works for us not you."

We all leave the room and I just go straight outside to the rooms to go take a bloody nap. Of course once I got comfy someone had to walk in. "Alice." Roger sits down next to me. "What, Rog?" I asks looking back at him and he was smiling. "Why are you smiling?" I sit up now to look at him. "You called me Rog and not Roger." He smiles like an idiot. "You're an idiot, you know that right?" I say and he nods his head. "Yep, for many reasons actually. One, because you called me something more the just Roger. Two, I made a song about being in love with a car. Three, I used to sleep with many of girl for fun. Four, I'm not very smart. And last but least five... I'm in love with you."

[hiyadarlingirl]

EVERGREEN LOVE, part 6

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 , part 8, part 9

Summary; It’s three days after the storm and you are at a lecture thinking back at a crazy occurrence (inspired by Logan from Gilmore girls!) that made Roger and you become friends. Later you also attend a  gig of Rogers band smile! 

wordcount; 2,8k

Warnings; swearing, tiiiiiny bit of angst, fluff

 Thankyou for reading everyone!! This part wil be a fun one, so sit back and relax! The dress I imagine reader wearing at the gig is this one from Jackie Burkhart! 

‘Does it still hurt?’ You asked.

‘My heart? Yes, consistently.’

‘Your ribs, stupid.’ You said, smiling.  

It was three days after Roger had gotten back from his sailing trip and everything had returned to normal. You were back to the banter that marked your relationship and you were glad nothing had changed. You were sitting in the lecture hall with a couple of minutes before lecture and were waiting for professor Goodall to come in and talk about plant physiology. A subject you knew would keep Rogers interest for at most 20 minutes before he would start getting annoying and in need of attention.

‘Ah. My ribs are splendid.’ He answered your question. Professor Goodall had now entered the room and started to quiet down the audience.

‘Wanna see?’ Roger asked and before you could say no, he stood up and pulled up his striped t-shirt to proudly show you the bandages that were wrapped around his upper body.

‘Taylor. Sit down. Nobody wants to see that.’ Professor Goodall said with a sour expression.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that sir.’ Roger replied with a hint of a smirk.

‘Just sit down an try paying attention for once Taylor. And save me the cockiness next time.’

You pulled Roger down by his wrist before he could make more of a fuss. It was no secret that professor Goodall wasn’t very fond of Roger and neither was he fond of you after an incident that had taken place almost two years ago.

--------------------- 

It was at the start of spring semester and you were both in your first year. You didn’t know Roger very well at the time having only spoken to him briefly so you couldn’t possibly foresee what was about to happen.

You were sitting in the middle of the audience next to Ally, scrabbling down notes while listening to the professor. He just started explaining the cell cycles of micro-organisms when a guy came rushing in, interrupting the lecture.

‘Y/N!’ You looked up, surprised at hearing your name. ‘Darling! My love.’ He spoke dramatically. You froze in your seat.

‘What are you doing to me? Please save me from this bloody misery I can’t handle it no more.’ You tried to assimilate what was happening, everybody had now turned in their seat staring up at you. Ally was looking at you confused. You gave her a confused look back.

‘Y/N please.’ He continued.

Professor Goodall looked perplexed. ‘What in the world….’ Then turned to you. ‘Miss Y/L/N what is this?’ You gave him a clueless look.

‘Y/N! Please tell me you love me! For I’ve been in love with you from the moment we met.’ He cried theatrically. You tried placing the guy, having seen him before but not in any of your classes. His curly hair wasn’t something you would quickly forget. Then it suddenly dawned on you. Your assumption got confirmed when another guy came rushing in.

It was Roger this time. 

You suddenly got it. They were performing a play to make you as uncomfortable as you could  possibly get.

‘Brian? What the fuck?’ Roger shouted and came running towards Brian who had climbed up the stairs and was now in the audience.

Professor Goodall had finally found his voice back. ‘Taylor! Get out of my class! And take your friend with you!’ He spoke firmly but Roger ignored him completely.

‘Don’t you dare steal my girl you wanker!’ Roger grabbed Brian by his shoulders.

You didn’t know where to look, wanting to disappear under the seat and never return. You could hear the audience laughing but it felt like you weren’t there.

Brian freed himself from Rogers grip.

‘Y/N, please liberate us from this excruciating pain. You have to choose one of us.’ He said.

‘Yes Y/N. Stop playing with our fragile hearts. It’s brutal.’ Roger added, his eyes twinkling.

You couldn’t bring out a word and slightly shook your head at Roger, giving him a deadly look.

‘Taylor, get down NOW or I’ll never see you in any of my classes ever again.’ Goodall started to fully lose his temper now.

‘But sir, you don’t understand..’

‘Taylor!’ Professor Goodall spoke with his voice low, trying to sound authoritative. Roger smiled. ‘Alright.’ He said then, giving in. He started to walk down the stairs, but then stopped in the  middle turning back to face you. ‘To be continued.’ He added, a mischievous look in his eyes. You just squinted your eyes at him.

Just before he and Brian left the classroom they made a little bow, clearly enjoying the attention. Majority of the students clapped and laughed but you were just pissed.  How far they would go to get noticed was pathetic. And using you for it? How childish.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you maybe had liked getting noticed by him a little bit. But you would never admit that out loud.

‘That was… curious.’ Ally said, at the end of the lecture, gathering her books. ‘They were good though.. very invested.��You rolled your eyes at her.

After class you saw the boys waiting outside, leaning against the wall, talking. First you considered to just walk away, ignoring them and pretending the whole thing hadn’t happened. But then Roger waived at you so you gathered your courage and decided to talk to them.

‘Ah there she is.’ Roger said when you started walking towards them, pushing himself off the wall and standing up straight.

‘Hi.’ You said, stepping closer. ‘Great play, very convincing.’ You started, leaning on one leg, arms filled with books. ‘Could you maybe leave me out of it though, next time?’

‘Why? You didn’t like it?’ Roger asked innocently.

‘Look, I know you guys like attention, but there are plenty of ways to get that elsewhere aside from embarrassing me, believe it or not.’

‘I know that love, but that’s a pity cause I just wanted attention from you.’

Even though you didn’t believe a word he was saying, you didn’t know how to respond to that.

‘What do you mean.’ That was kind of a stupid question, you knew that, but Roger smiled sweetly.

‘You are so hard to catch, girl. I just had to take measures for you to notice me. Forgive a fool?’

You thought about that for a second. You uncatchable? That was new. You thought it was the other way around, actually. You hadn’t really tried becoming friends with him because he seemed so hard to keep. Talking to everyone but never really staying. It wasn’t like he was popular in the usual sense of the word. He wasn’t wearing fashionable clothes, nor did he hang with the cool people. But he had something that drew people in. His unapologetic way of being himself and not giving a damn about what anyone thought of him. Choosing people on character instead of status. You had to give him that. You wouldn’t please his arrogant ass just yet though. His smooth talking wouldn’t win you over this easily.

‘Well, you have my attention now, what are you planning on doing with it?’

He was quiet for a couple of seconds, reading your face.

‘Wanna be my friend?’ He asked then, eyes wide and a toothy smile gracing his face.  

You didn’t expect this question so it took you a while to answer.

‘Okay.’ You said. Not too enthusiastic but he didn’t seem to mind.

And with that you became friends. Way better friends then you had over seen coming. Thinking back on it you wondered how Roger ever got Brian so far as to declare his love to you in front of so many people, he didn’t seem the type for it. It showed how good of a pall Brian was to him though.

 ----------

‘Hey.’ Roger pulled you back into the present.

‘Wanna go to a gig of mine and Brian?’ He whispered in your ear.

‘Of course!’ You whisper shouted back. ‘When is it?’

‘Tonight, I’ll pick you up at six, wear something cool, it’s gonna be wild.’

‘That can be arranged.’ You grinned.

‘So no Led Zeppelin shirt Y/N. You’re our supporter now.’ He said with a semiserious face. You laughed at that, earning yourself an annoyed look from the professor. You sat up straight and tried focusing on the lecture again.

‘Cell devision in plants is limited to specific regions. In plants it’s the meristems that accounts for growth lengthwise upwards and downwards.’

You yawned but started scribbling down notes again. 

----------

That evening you stood in front of your closet deciding what to wear. Ally was laying down on your bed, providing you with advice. She was coming too but was too lazy to try out several options, having already stuck with sky blue pants and a white T-shirt.

‘What do you think of this?’ You asked while staring at yourself in the mirror. You were wearing pink flared jeans with a white embroidered blouse.

‘Definitely maybe.’ Ally said, her chin resting in her hands.

‘Hm-hm.’ You agreed, changing into a different outfit. Denim jeans this time with a faded peach top.

‘Too plain.’ She stated. You looked at yourself in the mirror.

‘Maybe with a different top?’ You proposed and changed it for a bright pink, very revealing lacy tank top.

‘Too slutty.’ Ally said, shaking her head.

‘Yeah I see what you mean. I kinda like it though.’ You said, and put it on the definitely maybe pile. ‘Let’s try another one.’ You started to get out of the jeans and into a navy floral dress that tied closely around your waist.

‘Love it.’ Ally nodded in approval. ‘This is the one.’ You turned around looking at the back. It truly was pretty, with pink and white details, tight at the waist and flowy from the hips down.

‘Okay.’ You agreed and got into some red clogs that tied around your ankles. ‘Let’s go then. Ready?’

‘Ready as ever.’ She answered getting up from the bed.

You grabbed a thick jacket and went outside to wait for Roger who was far too late as per usual. Just as you started to get annoyed he pulled up at the driveway.

‘Hello there ladies, wanna go for a ride?’

He was wearing demin jeans, white sneakers and a silky red jacket with pink flowers. It was a complete mismatch but suited him nonetheless.

Ally got in the backseat so you got in front.

‘You are late. Again.’

‘Well hi to you too.’ He said, then added: ‘This isn’t a date is it. I’m allowed to be.’

‘Being my friend doesn’t give you that privilege.’ You said. ‘Plus I’m sure you’d be late at a date too.’

‘Oh darlin.’ His face was dead serious. ‘I wouldn’t be.’ He looked at you with such an intensity it made you oddly uncomfortable. You just pulled up an eyebrow.

‘Well go on then, drive.’ He let his eyes linger on your face for a second longer before giving a quick nod and starting the engine.

When you arrived it was almost seven so Roger had to rush backstage. ‘Good luck.’ You said, giving him a hug and quickly tried fixing his messy hair.

‘Thanks, join me and the boys for a drink after?’

‘Sure thing. We’ll cheer at you from the audience!’ You and Ally went inside as Roger got to the back. It was quite a large space, fitting at least a hundred and fifty people. The place was already packed and it was extremely hot compared to the cold outside. You and Ally got drinks and made your way through the crowd to the front stage. You sipped at your drink and waited for them to come on which didn’t take long. Brian came in first, getting cheered by the audience. Then in came Roger, waving his drumsticks in the air. You could hear all the girls screaming. Tim, the lead singer entered last and walked to the front of the stage grabbing the microphone.

‘Yesterday my life was in ruin, now today I know what I’m doin.’ He started. Everyone cheered. Your eyes shifted from Tim to Roger in the back who was feverously banging his drums. You liked watching him like this. Completely in his element and in the moment, steady rhythm, slightly pouted lips. The band was clearly also affected by the heat, maybe even more so by the physical exercise and warm stage lights. You could see the sweat rapidly gathering on Rogers skin, his long hair starting to stick around his face.

‘Shall we get some air?’ Ally asked after a while, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘It feels like I’m in the fiery pits of hell.’

‘Alright.’ You agreed and followed her through the crowd to the entrance. Suddenly you recognized a familiar face. It was unmistakably Christina. Rogers crush Christina. She was wearing a crop top and a short skirt showing almost her entire body. She was in the same classes as you so she recognized you and gave you a smile.

‘Cool to see you here!’ She shouted in your ear as though it was more self-evident she was there than you. ‘Do you like it?’

You didn’t really feel like doing the small talk thing with her, but as she was Rogers crush you decided to make a bit more effort. She didn’t seem too bad.

‘Yeah, they’re wonderful.’

‘Can I ask you something, Y/N?’

You were surprised she knew your name. ‘Of course, ask away!’

‘Do you think Roger fancies me? He’s been staring at me from the stage this whole time!’

You were surprised she was so upfront and couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Oh darling, I am positively sure he won’t be able to see you from that distance with his blind ass.’ You said. Then added: ‘But yeah, I think he might!’

‘Oh.’ She laughed a little embarrassed. ‘But.. so you think he does like me then?’

‘Yeah.’ You nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘Thankyou Y/N.’ She was positively beaming. It gave you mixed feelings but you gave her a smile nonetheless. You didn’t want to be the one standing in the way of those two. If there had ever been anything between Roger and you, in whatever form, it would’ve already happened right?

You followed Ally outside and thankfully breathed in the fresh cold air. But only for a second though, as you started to freeze in mere seconds in your cold dress. You jumped up and down to keep warm. ‘Wanna go inside again?’ You asked, wrapping your arms around you own body.

Ally nodded and followed you inside. The band had started their last song and looked exhausted but happy. When they finished the crowd erupted into loud cheers and whistles. You climbed on a wooden chair at the bar and screamed the loudest, fulfilling you job as their personal supporter. They walked to the front of the stage and bowed, taking in the craziness of the crowd. When they left the stage you took Ally’s arm and dragged her backstage feeling privileged you could just do so.

‘You were amazing!’ you cried out flying into Rogers arms who had to steady himself by the sudden weight thrown at him.

‘Thankyou love.’ He said, a bright look in his eyes. He smelled a little like sweat but you didn’t really mind.

‘Great crowd you were. Tasteful energy. Want a beer?’ He asked. You nodded.

‘You too Ally?’ He asked her and she nodded as well, clearly intimidated by the band.

‘There is someone in the audience for you by the way, Rog.’ You threw in casually, taking a sip from the glass beer bottle.

‘What, who? Not my mom is it.’

‘No, no. It’s Christina.’ You said, carefully reading his reaction.

‘You are kidding me.’ He said, genuinely surprised.

‘Nope. Go look for yourself.’

‘But I wanted to celebrate with you first.’ He said, which surprised you a little.

‘Don’t feel obligated, I’ll wait for you. Go talk to her before she’s gone.’

He seemed to hesitate a little so you gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Go before she’s gone.’ You said. And with that Roger was out. You were doing the right thing, you thought. Why did it feel so wrong then? After a while you decided to take a look and opened the door. There was still a vast amount of people lingering in the space so it was hard to find Roger at first, but then your eyes found him, standing at the back of the bar, talking with the girl. He had been with girls, you knew that. He had kissed more than you and you knew he wasn’t a virgin anymore, but you had never seen him with one yourself, having only heard about them.

You knew you were peeking and you shouldn’t be doing it, but your eyes were glued to him and Christina as she leaned forward and kissed him. 

Next part

 TO BE CONTINUED! 

@white-queen-walks, @fics-for-my-heart, @midnightloversville, @killerqueenbucky, @fallinginlovewithwhereyouare, @about-aphrodite, @daarkdreamy, @bulsaratheopera, @notsoinnocent13, @int0-you, @fortuneboldlyfavors, @chaoticjasontoddinsoup, @rogahtaylahthedrumah, @notborednorstressed, @bensroger, @sleeping-bobcat, @mercuriangel, @juliet-taylor

[firebirdtransam68]

30 Sonic Questions

1. Why did you become interested in Sonic?

2. How did you hear about Sonic?

3. How long have you been a Sonic fan?

4. Favourite male character(s)?

5. Favourite female character(s)?

6. Favourite game(s)?

7. Favourite vocal theme(s)?

8. How much merchandise do you have, if any?

9. How many Sonic games do you own?

10. Got any clothing or apparel?

11. AoSTH, Satam or Sonic X?

12. Archie or Fleetway?

13. Favourite Sonic form? Pick one.

14. Classic, Dreamcast or Modern? Pick one.

15. Favourite Sonic level(s)?

16. Favourite Sonic soundtrack(s)?

17. Favourite Sonic music track(s)?

18. Got any remixes you like?

19. What do you contribute to the fandom? (art, writing, edits, videos)

20. Do you closely follow Sonic related news?

21. Been to Sonic Boom?

22. Been to Summer of Sonic?

23. Got any fan characters?

24. Any artists you admire?

25. Favourite voice actor for Sonic?

26. Favourite official art style?

27. What do you like about the fandom?

28. What do you like about Sonic? (the character)

29. Met any Sonic friends through the fandom?

30. Excited for Sonic's next birthday?

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

This ask meme has been reblogged by @xsailormobian, who had the meme in text format (I changed the formatting, but I credited the user who reblogged this post).  And, since I had not found a decent Sonic ask meme as of now, I will take pleasure into answering all 30 questions.

I will answer as much as I can, since I have answered questions relating to Transformers; and since I am a fan of both Transformers and Sonic, I might as well answer this ask meme.  

Here it goes:

1. “Why did you become interested in Sonic?” - Besides the fact the franchise is based on extraterrestrials, have many different characters with many different complex traits, and contain an anti-hero, the Sonic The Hedgehog franchise shares a lot of things in common with the Transformers franchise (extraterrestrials, different characters, voice actors/seiyuu, styles, etc.), despite the former being set in the 1990′s and the latter in the 1980′s.  I took more interest when I realized Sonic X was an anime (characters speaking English, or throwing in English, comes to mind).  I took even more interest when a particular character has the same seiyuu as a few Transformers I really liked (hint: the character is a hedgehog).

2. “How did you hear about Sonic?” - When I was at a movie store a long time ago (I was around 5 or 6), I came across a character with spikey quills and a signature smile with a pose (it was on a wall in a children’s watch room).  I first heard of the name when an elementary school student was talking about it when playing a computer game featuring the blue hedgehog.  I wasn’t too much of a fan until much later.

3. “How long have you been a Sonic fan?” - Almost a year; I recently became a fan after Transformers.

4. “Favourite male character(s)?” - Sonic The Hedgehog, Shadow The Hedgehog, Silver The Hedgehog, Knuckles The Echidna, Jet The Hawk, Scourge The Hedgehog, Team Chaotix, and Mephiles The Dark (but mostly Sonic, Shadow, and Silver).

5. “Favourite female character(s)?” - Amy Rose, Rouge The Bat, Katella The Huntress, Wave The Swallow, and Sally Acorn (to an extent).

6. “Favourite game(s)?” - Shadow The Hedgehog (2005), Sonic The Hedgehog (2006), Sonic The Hedgehog (1991), Sonic Riders (2005), Sonic Adventure 1 and 2, and any fan game where a character and zone can be created (Sonic Forces is influential, even though I never played the game).

7. “Favourite vocal theme(s)?” - Many, but I took interest with Crush 40′s “Live And Learn” from Sonic Adventure 2.

8. “How much merchandise do you have, if any?” - None.  My cousin, on the other hand, has the games, toys, shows, and books (but not all, of course; though, I wish).

9. “How many Sonic games do you own?” - None; my cousin has the games; that is why I come visit his house.

10. “Got any clothing or apparel?” - Nothing related to Sonic; my clothes have regular (non-pop cultural) styles, or are just simply plain.

11. “AoSTH, Satam or Sonic X?” - Sonic X; with English subtitles; unedited.  Animation and some sound effects remind me more of Transformers: Micron Legend.  Also, Sonic’s English was awesome and funny (depending on how he throws in English).

12. “Archie or Fleetway?” - None of the above; not even IDW.  I don’t read comics as much.

13. “Favourite Sonic form? Pick one.” - Many, but since I have to pick one, I will go with Super Sonic.

14. “Classic, Dreamcast or Modern? Pick one.” - As much as I appreciate Classic, I will go with Modern.

15. “Favourite Sonic level(s)?” - Many; I can’t name just one.

16. “Favourite Sonic soundtrack(s)?” - 1991-1997, Adventure 1 and 2, Shadow The Hedgehog (2005), Sonic 06, Sonic X (Yoshihiro Ike, NOT 4Kids), Sonic OVA, and, to some extent, Sonic Forces.

17. “Favourite Sonic music track(s)?” - I don’t have one.

18. “Got any remixes you like?” - Do 1980′s remixes count?

19. “What do you contribute to the fandom? (art, writing, edits, videos)” - All of the above; fan media included.

20. “Do you closely follow Sonic related news?” - Not as much; I am not particularly into new trends; just what I like (whether old, new, or underrated).

21. “Been to Sonic Boom?” - No.  Next question, please.

22. “Been to Summer of Sonic?” - No; I never heard of it until now…

23. “Got any fan characters?” - Many, but not online.  One of them is Stella Stripes (female; Alignment: Good), the other is Silhouette The Hedgehog (female; Alignment: Evil), and I have a couple on DeviantArt (all female).  I also got many male fan characters (including a falcon whose Alignment is Neutral), as well as fan characters with different genders rather than male or female.

24. “Any artists you admire?” - Many, but mostly the official creators; also the creators of Sonic X.

25. “Favourite voice actor for Sonic?” - My favorite Japanese voice actor is Jun’ichi Kanemaru; I really admire the fact that this seiyuu speaks both Japanese and English, since he was also an English teacher at one point, and I really like Sonic’s quirkiness and fun-loving personality.  My favorite English voice actor is Jason Griffith; it was the first English-speaking voice I heard, and he nearly captured Sonic’s personality nicely.  My least favorite is Roger Craig Smith, since to me, he sounded off, and a little too old; and the creators drastically changed Sonic’s personality as a result, just like how they changed Shadow’s personality since 2010 or 2014.

26. “Favourite official art style?” - Sonic X (similar to Transformers: Micron Legend/Armada), Modern CGI renders, the 2005 game versions, Sonic OVA, and the classic styles.

27. “What do you like about the fandom?” - Extraterrestrials, many different characters, many opportunities to ship, has an anime I really like, seiyuu, and had female villains (Katella The Huntress came to mind; Merlina is a little weak, in my opinion); also, the fandom is very open to fan characters and fan media.

28. “What do you like about Sonic? (the character)” - Fast, confident, knows how to fight, is friendly, is quirky, throws in English here and there (Sonic X), and never gives up.

29. “Met any Sonic friends through the fandom?” - Some, but I don’t exactly remember their names.

30. “Excited for Sonic's next birthday?” - I am actually more excited about a crossover with Transformers (which this is hardly talked about), but I acknowledge Sonic had a birthday (although, to me, he will always be 15 years of age).

There should be more ask memes like this.  In fact, I am for adding many different ask memes for many different fandoms, including Sonic, Transformers, and Spore (there should be at least one Spore ask meme, since I cannot find any).

Well, that is all I will be saying for now.  Stay tuned for more posts (I am thinking of doing reviews for certain episodes of Transformers: Micron Legend and/or Superlink when I have the time).

This is FirebirdTransAm68 signing out.

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, calbeebellona!

May 7 - ShieldShock ficlet for the prompt “Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll give it back.” or “Their pick-up line wasn’t as good as any of mine, I’m just saying.” I hate Civil War, so maybe set it in an alternative universe where there is no Civil War? I would also like it to be humourous and a bit of fluff? Basically, I just want a happy story with some laughter in. for @calbeebellona

Written by @iamartemisday

The Avengers had fans. Steve knew this, yet it was still a bit surreal to walk through the halls of Javits Center and see twenty one people dressed in homemade Captain America costumes of varying levels of quality.

He himself was suited up for the occasion. The shield strapped to his back felt heavier than usual and he was sweating under his helmet. So far, no one had recognized him, though. Tony had explained it to him while insisting he couldn’t go to any fan event in plain clothes and sunglasses.

“Do you have any idea how shady that looks, pun half intended,” he said with the beginnings of a grin. “If you really want to do this, you have to go whole hog. Get in there and work that suit like the real Captain America.”

“I am the real Captain America,” Steve had said.

“And that’s exactly why no one will notice you.”

Steve didn’t have to be a genius to know that didn’t make any sense. And yet, he’d been walking around the convention all day, attending panels, browsing the dealer’s room, buying a few things, and not a single person had anything to say about Actual Real Steve Rogers in their midst except ‘awesome cosplay, dude.’

“Maybe we should go,” Steve muttered to Bucky after they’d been asked to pose for pictures for the hundredth time. “Pretty soon, someone’s going to figure out we’re not just fans in costumes.”

Bucky, clad in black pants, combat boots, and a black jacket with the left sleeve ripped off to expose his metal arm, punched his shoulder. “Come on, Punk. I thought you were having fun. This was your idea.”

“I know,” said Steve. He quickly averted his eyes as a girl with his face plastered all over her clothes ran by. “I didn’t think it’d be so… this.”

A man with a distended gut and a cheap shaggy brown wig walked by in an amateurish Winter Soldier costume. His entire right arm was wrapped in aluminum foil, complete with a crudely drawn red star. He caught sight of Bucky and paused to give him a once over. “Your Bucky costume’s not bad, but that’s the wrong arm.”

He waved with his right arm, allowing bits of foil to fall off, then disappeared into the crowd as Bucky’s jaw fell and his face turned bright red. “It is NOT the wrong arm!”

He clenched his fists as Steve made a token effort not to laugh at his best friend’s pain. “Come on, Buck. I thought you were having fun.”

“Bite me,” Bucky stomped off towards the refreshments table, and that was probably the last Steve would see of him for hours.  

He wandered into the main corridor, filing past kids with toy propulsion blasters and young women in catsuits and red wigs. A few more fans asked for photos. One of them wore a shirt which loudly proclaimed she was Steve Rogers’ future wife. He fake smiled like a champ and made a beeline for the dealer’s room as soon as the overly touchy girl set him free.

It was a little less crowded than before. Steve could actually move without fear of crushing someone’s foot. He stayed close to the walls, ignoring the multitude of Hawkeyes, Thors, and even a few Lokis hanging around. A few booths away, a bespectacled young woman in blue jeans and plaid would have been the most normally dressed person he’d seen all day, were it not for the signs she was carrying.

SUPPORT JANE FOSTER!

JANE FOSTER WAS ABLE TO BUILD A BRIDGE TO ASGARD IN THE DESERT WITH A BOX OF CAR PARTS.

JANE ONCE PUNCHED A NORSE GOD IN THE FACE. CAN YOU PUNCH NORSE GODS IN THE FACE? JANE FOSTER IS BETTER THAN YOU.

How she held all those signs with only two hands, Steve couldn’t say. Maybe she was secretly magic. A shirtless man covered in green body paint sidled up to her, his grin a perfect contrast to her irate frown. “Hey babe. Wanna hang out later?”

“That depends,” she said, “do you want to talk about how Jane Foster is unfairly treated by so-called Avengers fans and denied credit for her scientific innovations by drooling fangirls with internet access and delusions of becoming Asgardian royalty?”

The shirtless man blinked. “Uh… Jane who?”

She rolled her eyes and kept walking in Steve’s direction. From up close, he could almost say he knew her, but the name escaped him. “Do you need help holding those signs?”

He hadn’t meant to speak. The words just popped out of his mouth of their own volition. The young woman brightened up. “See? That right there is a much better pick up line. Here you go.”

She handed him the ‘Punched a Norse God’ sign and Steve made a note to ask Thor about that later. He had a feeling he knew which god got punched and that was a story he needed to hear.  

“My real pick-up lines are much better,” Steve said, earning a smile from the girl whose name had finally popped into his head. “It’s Darcy, right? Darcy Lewis?”

“Yup,” she said as they re-entered the hall. “I guess you’ve seen the pics online. I’ve been working with Jane for years and last week I made the mistake of looking at the Avengers fan forums. There was a lot of bullshit on there about Thor dumping Jane because she’s ‘boring’ or that she dumped him because ‘she’s a bitch’. As if the woman just sprang into existence when Thor needed a muggle girlfriend and her life has no meaning outside of him. For fuck’s sake, they broke up mutually. They’re still friends and Jane had been working her ass off on that bridge since before Thor was even a thing.”

“That’s awful,” Steve said. This was why he stopped going to the fan forums after the first time. That and the rather… suggestive art people drew of him and Bucky. Or worse, him and Tony.

“I even found this website: janefostersux.com. And that’s ‘sucks’ with an X because who cares about proper spelling when you’re an unemployed, basement dwelling edgelord. It’s okay, though. I told Tony about it and he broke through the firewalls and filled every webpage with pictures of omelettes. I’m not sure why omelettes. I guess he was just hungry, but it killed traffic to the site so I can’t complain.” She heaved a long sigh. “Anyway, thanks for listening to me ramble.”

“No problem,” Steve said. They stopped in hotel lounge for a break, leaving their signs at their feet as they took the last empty spots on the last empty couch. “I think it’s great that you’re doing all this. Dr. Foster deserves to be respected.”

“Got that right.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a spiral notebook decorated with science stickers and a pen attached. “I’m collecting signatures from fans to give to Jane later. You in?”

“Of course,” Steve said. He wrote a quick note for Jane, who would probably be amused to learn how he finally met her legendary intern.

“Aw, you’re awesome,” Darcy said, with a smile that made Steve’s stomach flip. “And you’re the best Captain America cosplayer I’ve seen all day. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the real thing.”

Steve coughed and rubbed the side of his neck. “Well, actually…”

[surrounded-by-superheroes]

Crave Ch. 2 (Bucky Barnes)

Summary; The Asset.

Makes it sound like there was only one, doesn't it? One assassin, one soldier, one life stolen and taken over to be used as a tool for evil minds. There was never only one. Hydra's bloodstained hands, people called them. And once one's hands have been bathed in blood so many times, it's near impossible to look at the skin and not see red. Yet, when Hydra has been pushed out into the open by the Avengers there's the slightest flicker of hope for the asset left behind. You see, I never had a Steve Rogers. No one is looking for me. The only person I've ever had is the one I was trapped with, the one that's now free. The one who, if he finds me, I will surely destroy.

A/N; Second chapter! Reblog and comment and tell me what you think!!! :)

Warnings; Language, sexy teasing.

Words; 3,132

Chapter One~~~Crave Masterlist~~~Complete Masterlist

Chapter Two

The Facility

My apartment is small and relatively empty. A mattress on the floor with one heavy, navy blanket tossed across it, a small island, mismatched stools, bare kitchen counters excepting a coffee maker and toaster, stove, microwave, and mini fridge in the corner. There’s a bathroom just across the kitchen the size of a closet and has my big suitcase in it with what clothes I own. A couple of books lay beside the mattress and supplies me the only entertainment in my tiny apartment. After a quick shower last night, I just put underwear and a big T-shirt on, then fell onto the mattress to get some sleep. It was about three in the morning when I fell asleep. Which is why I’m pissed that it’s seven and I’m hearing a knock at the door. Knife clipped to my underwear, I stalk over to the door and swing it open.

James is leaning in the doorway with a dark blue baseball cap pulled low on his head. He’s traded his black clothes for dark jeans, rust Henley, and dirty white sneakers. My eyes shut in irritation and to shut out just how good he looks as my taut muscles relax.

“Gotcha.” He smirks as I open my eyes. “Nice outfit.” He looks me up and down appreciatively. This is made even worse since the shirt I’m wearing used to be his.

“It’s too early. Go away.” I swing the door at him and walk to the kitchen to make coffee. A thump tells me he caught the door and a slight click speaks to him shutting it behind him as he comes in. Drat.

“Little rude. Then again, you did give me a bullshit address before so maybe this is you being nice.” I shoot him a glare as I make a pot of coffee. If he’s sticking around, I’ll need it. “So, this is your place…” I whirl around and nearly throw the mug in my hands at his head. His eyes widen amusedly when my stormy grey eyes meet his clear blue ones.

“Oh Jesus, don’t even start. Sorry, I’m not sleeping on silk sheets and having eggs benedict every morning, but this is how I’ve decided to live. If you have a problem with it, get the fuck out.” I snap and spin back to my coffee pot. It actually takes him a minute to respond. Must be getting old.

“This place is shit, Rosie. I know, I’ve had places like this.” He tells me in a slightly softer voice and comes to this side of the island to be closer to me. After pressing the on button, I turn back around to face him as the pot groans.

“Don’t call me that godforsaken name.” I hiss and look up to meet gentle, stupidly affectionate eyes.

“Why don’t you let me take you out of here? No bullshit, I want an answer this time.” He crosses his ankles and arms at the same time to tell me he isn’t going anywhere and raises an eyebrow. I notice his arms flex and can tell he’s holding himself back from touching me, a habit I would’ve thought he’d have forgotten by now. Sighing, I hop up on the counter and put my hands in my lap so I don’t flash him.

“Pretty sure I already told you. Besides, what would I even do there, James? Hang out with the janitor? At least I’d have something in common with him.” He waits for me to continue and I roll my eyes. “Invisibility.” He huffs and pushes off the island to walk over to me. My legs instinctively widen to make room for him and the second his hands touch my legs goosebumps pop up all over my body. My soul sighs at being close to him again as electricity crackles between us. Cold and hot fingers tap in a line on my thighs as he stares into my eyes. “Oh, Chr-” I force a frown onto my face.

“You’ll be with me,” James says quietly and I nearly throw up my heart in his face. “And I can look after you. I’d be happy to get an apartment a little ways from the facility with you. Separate rooms. Single room, if you want.” He smirks a little to lighten the seriousness of his proposal. “Bottom line is, doll, I’m not leaving you. We’ve been apart for a little while,” I snort, “and I’ve got to say, not a fan.”

“James. It’s been years.” I sigh. “It’s been years since anything happened between us and there’s a reason for that.” I remind him and jump when the coffee pot beeps. His hands slip further up my thighs to my hips, tugging me closer to him. My hands plant themselves on his chest and he leans into it slightly, my palms pressed against his pecs.

“Because you kept running from me. You never explained that pesky reason you keep bringing up anyways. And that’s not true. It’s only been a year since that night in Brooklyn.” He corrects and I shake my head to block out the memory. Bucky pushes a little closer to grab the pot and fill the two cups I got out, then puts the container back. I press my lips together to prevent myself from reaching out to those familiar lips.

“That’s different.” I murmur and accidentally sigh with pleasure when his mismatched hands squeeze my hips. His pupils are blown wide with desire as my hands make fists in his shirt. “It was my first time seeing you since…since.” I end my sentence there and shove him back before hopping down. I take a breath of air, free for a moment from the drug that is him.

“So, you have to think I’m dead to give me any attention?” He pokes fun and I slide his coffee down the counter so he can make his own. Milk and sugar go into mine and the smell drifting up to me as I stir is at least slightly soothing.

“We’re talking, aren’t we? That’s attention.” I sass and he groans with frustration. “And I haven’t thrown you out for coming here so early. I think I’m being pretty damn hospitable.” My feet carry me around the island and to one of the stools around the island. It creaks slightly under my weight as I settle and look back at Bucky.

“Can you stop being a smartass? I told you I’m not going anywhere without you and I fucking meant it.” He walks around the island and splashes coffee on the counter when he slams his coffee mug down. Wasting coffee is a personal offense to me.

“Hey-”

He leans against the counter and huffs. “So, am I dragging you out of here, hogtying you to my bike, and taking you back? Or are you coming willingly?” There’s nothing but honesty in those baby blues, so I know he’s being serious.

“Pretty sure I could take you, Barnes. You’ve been out of the game longer than I have.” I point out and he frowns.

“Exactly. Not gonna let you fall into something again, doll. Not a chance.” My eyebrows raise and I take a hearty gulp of coffee as I think of a comeback.

“Sure. People just fall into Hydra.” I tease and his frown weakens a bit. Always prided myself on getting him to smile. “Look,” I lift a hand and rub my tired eyes. “I’ll come look at it with you. Alright?” He’s not going to let this go, obviously, so maybe this’ll hold him off a little. When he smiles it makes it harder to maintain the fact that I cannot fall into this. Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

“Good. Change and let’s go. Right now.” A heavy sigh leaves my lips and I hop up and head to the bathroom with my coffee.

“You’re infuriating.” He chuckles outside the door as I sit on my toilet to finish the rest of my coffee. My feet lift and I set them on the edge of my bathtub to relax. He can wait. Once my coffee is gone and Bucky’s asking if there’s a window in my bathroom that I’ve snuck out of, I change. First, I take my hair out of its bun and the burnished bronze falls in big curls below my shoulders, down my back. Then comes light jeans, a plain grey sweater, black socks, and ankle boots. Just to make Bucky wait a little longer I take my time doing my make-up before finally opening the door. Seems he was content to wait since he’s made himself comfortable on my mattress and is peacefully leafing through the pages of one of my books. “Tada. Let’s go.” I call and he looks up, then scans my body slowly. His lips part, “Don’t start. Come on.”

I strut out the door and wait for him to follow. He does, but with my bag on his arm and my heavy blanket around his shoulders. “Alright, ready.” He winks at me as I frown and basically skips down the stairs. Sighing, I lock the door and follow. We’re on the road within two minutes. Would’ve been quicker if Bucky hadn’t had to strap my stuff on his bike, but whatever. Hate to admit it, but it feels good to be beside Bucky on motorcycles again. Despite myself I’m grinning as we speed through the streets to what Bucky apparently thinks is my new address. As we tear into the driveway, my eyes take in just how beautiful it really is. Bright green, manicured grass, gravel that turns into concrete, multiple buildings housing multiple utilities, even a goddamn fountain which we pull up to. I’ll say this; Hydra definitely had nothing like this. Then again, there was a time where everything Shield had, so did Hydra. My eyes instantly meet James’.

“A goddamn fountain?” I ask and he grins, shouldering my bag and blanket.

“Stark. He’s fancy.” He tells me and slips happily into step beside me as we walk in. “We’ll drop this stuff off then I’ll show you around.” I roll my eyes and stay close as he jogs up a flight of stairs to a row of doors with names on them. We walk down past every door until we’ve reached a hall of blanks. There’s a door with J. Barnes on it and Bucky marches right into the one next to it. It’s small. Grey walls, white bed, black bedside tables, black tv, and a black tv stand are all that’s in the room. Except now there’s my blanket and my bag in it too.

“Never said anything about staying, Barnes,” I tell him as we head out of the room and back from where we came. He shoots me a playful grin.

“No way I’m letting you leave now, Rosie.” He teases and I shove his shoulder into the nearest door.

“What have I said about that fucking name?” I point a finger at him as he presses his lips together to prevent a laugh from escaping. The door he’s leaning on opens and he tumbles inside, then I’m laughing. God, I can’t remember the last time I laughed. A tall blonde that I know is Steve Rogers stands over James with a confused grin on his face, then he looks up at me. His eyes widen and he steps over James to reach me.

“You must be Rosalie Warren?” He questions and offers his hand to me. My smile melts.

“Uh, yeah. How exactly do you know that?” I ask and shake his hand once before releasing. Steve moves to the side as we watch Bucky stand, looking a little sheepish.

“This idiot hasn’t stopped talking about you. Would’ve been humiliating if I didn’t recognize you on sight.” I look at James with raised eyebrows.

“You talk about me, huh?” I ask and take great satisfaction when his jaw clenches.

“Great to finally meet you.” Steve tells me with an earnest smile and bright eyes a shade lighter than James’. The small smile I give him is genuine.

“Shut up, punk.” Bucky shoves Steve lightly once he’s on his feet again.

“If you didn’t want me to say anything then you should’ve shut up about her. You know Nat’ll want to see her too.” Bucky nods as a million thoughts fly through my head. His eyes meet mine again as he passes by us. “I’m in the gym, Buck. Hope to see more of you, Rosalie.” Steve tells me and jogs down the stairs. My eyes look back to Bucky’s and my eyebrows raise.

“Busted.” I tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Might as well follow him. Natasha’ll be in the gym too.” Sighing, I follow him back down the stairs and down the hall a bit until we’ve reached the gym doors. I’ll admit it. I’m a little jealous of the facility. Every exercise machine known to me is in here, lining the walls. There are even various punching bags for the old-fashioned. The center of the room is clear and the floor is padded for hand to hand combat. There’s a door to the far right with the words ‘shooting range’ written boldly above it, so that’s just another thing to look forward to. My eyes pause on Bucky’s smirk as he watches me survey the room.

“Not bad,” I admit and his smirk grows.

“Knew you’d like it. There’s a knife throwing section in the shooting range as well.” Dammit, he knows me. He gestures to another red-head in the room and starts walking over to where she and Steve are wrapping their knuckles. “Tasha.” Jade green eyes snap up and barely skim over Bucky before turning to me.

“Hi.” She greets me with a disinterested voice, but her eyes say she’s anything but.

“This is Rosalie Warren. We go back a bit.” I swear I hear her whisper ‘I bet you do’, before she stands and lets her wrapped hands fall to her sides. She scans me, then purses her lips slightly.

“Nice hair.”

My lips lift at the compliment. “Back at you.” Her hair is probably at least a shade different than mine. She smirks and I find it’s charming. More fighting a smile than quiet judgment. Or both.

“Come to see our two fossils? Pretty great, right?” Her eyes move between Steve and Bucky who both sigh and smile at the tease.

“Not bad. Actually, just trying to get this one off my back.” I flick my chin to Bucky and all eyes turn to him.

“Rosalie’s moving in with us.” He states and my mouth pops open. Excuse me?

“And you’ve told Tony?” Steve finally stands and joins the conversation with amusement dancing in his eyes. Bucky turns to Steve and crosses his arms.

“Didn’t know I needed permission,” Bucky emphasizes the last word, clearly hating it with every fiber of his being. Steve shakes his head.

“This is a team, Buck. Don’t be an asshole.” Steve playfully punches his shoulder before retreating behind a punching bag to start working.

“Stark’s in his lab. Personally, I’m not against having another red-head on the team.” Nat winks at me before walking to her own punching bag. Meanwhile, I’m sizzling slightly with anger.

“Sorry, I don’t remember saying a thing about moving here,” I tell him and cross my arms over my chest. Bucky turns to me and his eyes widen when he sees the look on my face.

“And I said I was unwilling to be without you.” He answers carefully, aware I’m pissed but unwilling to back down.

“Wow. Alright. I humored you and let you bring my stuff here and drop it off in some room. Fine. Doesn’t mean I’m going to agree to stay!” Natasha and Steve have both paused and are watching us. Steve, hesitantly entertained, Natasha, amused and wary. Bucky steps forward so we’re in each other’s breathing space and I hate how my eyes instantly flick to his lips then back to those deep blue pools.

“Sorry if I haven’t been clear, doll.” His left-hand lifts and lets his finger trickle down from my jaw to my collarbone. He sighs as it does, as if it wasn’t intentional but just a need to be in contact with me. It hits me like a shot of tequila; strong, staggering, and sweet with the promise of getting me drunk. “I’m not lettin you slip away. You’re stayin.” His words are quiet and firm and dammit it’s so hard to hold onto my anger when he’s like this.

“You don’t own me, Barnes.” Instantly, Bucky chuckles.

“Doll. We’ve owned each other for a long time.” His voice drops an octave with these words and they yank on my heart. Electricity pops and sizzles between us the longer we stand this close and I feel the pull he has on me. Judging on how he’s slowly leaning towards me, he does too.

“Don’t. Don’t say that.” I object as I feel emotion rising up in my chest. Gently, his hands claim my upper arms, but I instantly push him off. “Look, I’m not yours. You’re not mine. Back the fuck off, Bucky.” My words are a warning, but he just smirks.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, doll?” My eyes narrow. His hand reaches up and grazes my cheek. I shiver and it’s easy to get angry now. My hands frame his face and god he feels good under my hands again. Surprise creeps across his face as he smiles softly. My eyes shut as I savor this brief cheat of resisting him. “Rosie-” He’s cut off when I pull my head back and headbutt his nose. We separate instantly as his hands instead go to his nose. “Fuck!”

It’s just a little satisfying to see the shock and anger on his face. “That’s what you deserve,” I tell him firmly while Steve cracks up behind him and Natasha smiles, clearly entertained. Bucky balls up the end of his shirt and holds it to his nose to staunch the bleeding. The glimpse I get of his torso only makes this all the better.

“You fucking broke it!” He accuses and I still have yet to feel a bit of sympathy.

“Good. Remember this for the next time.” A light, airy laugh escapes Natasha as she stands and tosses a rag to James.

“I like her.” She compliments James and comes to a stop next to me. “Seen Tony yet?” I shake my head. “Walk with me, then.” Natasha pauses at the door as I spare another glance at Bucky before following her. Steve can nurse the asshole while I have fun with Natasha.

Chapter Three

[aion-rsa]

James Wan Horror Movies Ranked

https://ift.tt/3Agt7Vy

James Wan has a new horror movie out this weekend, and it’s been far too long since we’ve been able to write that. As one of the singular genre filmmakers of his generation, Wan managed to launch three successful and pop culture defining horror franchises in less than a decade between Saw (2004), Insidious (2010), and The Conjuring (2013). And yet, the Australian director hasn’t stepped foot in a spooky house since 2016’s The Conjuring 2. Moving on to bigger and (maybe?) better things in Furious 7 and Aquaman, Wan’s new status as a blockbuster director caused many fans to wonder if his days in dark shadows were done. 

Which is why this weekend’s Malignant is such an inviting proposition. Five years after walking away from personally helming Ed and Lorraine Warren’s on-screen adventures, Wan’s returned to his roots with an original horror movie that’s not part of any franchise. What a novel concept. To celebrate this change of fortune, the editors at Den of Geek have put their heads together and voted, coming up with a definitive ranking of Wan’s horror movies. You can trust us.

7. Malignant

Sometimes it takes a while to get back into the swing of things. While Wan deserves credit for championing an original idea in the modern world of sequels, prequels, and spinoffs—he even turned down helming The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It for this!—daring gambles don’t always payoff for everyone. Which might be a polite way of saying that for some of us (although not all), Malignant is a disappointment.

Built entirely around a plot twist we’re not going to spoil here, Wan’s Malignant takes the familiar concept of a protagonist (Annabelle Wallis) being wrongfully accused for supernatural crimes, and turns it on its head. The actual twist however has left folks divided. Some applaud how bold it is while others of us found it fairly underwhelming, and lacking a satisfying subtext or cohesiveness to make it worthwhile. We’re all in agreement though, it’s a stylish bit of eye candy… and that Wan’s done better before. – David Crow

6. Insidious: Chapter 2

As the second installment of Wan and frequent collaborator Leigh Whannell’s Insidious franchise, there was a lot of anticipation over how this horror sequel would follow-up on the cliffhanger ending to the first film. If you don’t recall—and here there be spoilers, by the by—that movie ended on the shocking revelation that Patrick Wilson’s repressed and mild mannered father, Josh, had become possessed by a ghost which has been chasing him since childhood. Worse, this spirit caused him to kill Lin Shaye’s delightfully kooky Elise! (Don’t worry, her soul gets better.) What will happen next to the poor Lambert family?

Read more

Movies

13 Best Blumhouse Horror Movies Ranked

By David Crow and 3 others

Movies

Insidious: Is The Further Real?

By Tony Sokol

Something a lot more rote, as it turns out. This is not to say that Insidious: Chapter 2 is a bad movie; it’s simply a much lesser one than what came before. From the film doubling down on a monster not nearly as intriguing as the Lipstick Demon from the first film to the picture failing to expand on the strange astral plane of the Further in a meaningful way, Chapter 2 is just a tad underwhelming—a horror follow-up going through the motions. Still, it allows Wilson to play secretly evil, so that’s fun! – DC

5. Dead Silence

Dead Silence was DOA in theaters and critically panned when it debuted in 2007, yet after the movie became available as a home release it scraped together a small audience that was mostly composed of very specific genre fans: those who are just plain shit scared of ventriloquist dummies! Directed and written by the horror dream team of Wan and Whannell, Dead Silence stars True Blood’s Ryan Kwanten as Jamie Ashen, a young widower who slumps back to his hometown looking for answers following his wife’s ‘death by dummy.’ Dogging him on his quest is New Kid Donnie Wahlberg in a wild, scene-stealing performance as a detective who seemingly can’t stop preening his facial hair.

The mythical boogeywoman of the piece is Mary Shaw, a ventriloquist who was once lynched in the town after a performance went awry and a child later died by mysterious circumstances. Jamie’s family were an essential part of her lynching, and now Mary is on the warpath from beyond the grave.

Dead Silence is incredibly silly, but an important step in Wan’s directing career. Throughout the film he plays with the kind of masterful sound design and jump scares that he eventually refined down to a sublime craft. Just like one of Mary Shaw’s dolls, all the parts are there but the movie is only possessed by a little soul that doesn’t do too much damage to your nerves. – Kirsten Howard

4. Saw

The movie that made Wan a household name (at least among movie nerds and horror hounds), Saw became the biggest horror franchise of the 2000s and launched a grim new subgenre of exploitation that���s been derisively (if fairly) dubbed “torture porn” ever since. It’s therefore easy to forget Wan’s original Saw really isn’t one of those movies. Oh, people are tortured on-screen in this gnarly nightmare. And it is very horrific, to be sure.

Yet unlike the many subsequent Saw sequels that came later, plus copycats like the Hostel franchise, Saw doesn’t take perverse pleasure in its characters’ suffering or imagine the villain as some kind of antihero. Jigsaw was originally a chilling serial killer in the David Fincher mold, and his original film had a surprisingly minimal amount of gore. Most of the picture is really about the dreadful suspense of anticipation as we wait for something horrible to happen when two men wake up inside a dilapidated industrial bathroom and are told they need to saw off their own feet to survive.

In truth, if this same exact script (minus the grisly flashback sequences) was presented a one-act Off-Broadway play in 2004, it would’ve likely been hailed as edgy and boundary-pushing art. Instead we got a horror classic that spawned a memorable, if ultimately trashy, B-horror franchise after Wan and co-writer Whannell left the series following the first outing. Fair trade. – DC 

3. Insidious

Back in 2010 when Insidious was released, Blumhouse hadn’t yet become the horror behemoth it is today. So low budget but glossy horrors starring talented household names weren’t the norm. It wasn’t just these attributes that made Insidious a breakout which still holds up a decade later, however. It’s the fact that the movie is undeniably scary. It may use certain jump scare tactics at times but boy, do they work. Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne star as a couple whose son is capable of astral projection, which has taken him into the nightmarish world of the Further and caused demonic figures to haunt the family. 

The first half of the movie will have you leaping out of your seat. The second half though is more of a comedy, marked by the arrival of psychic Elise (Lin Shaye) and her sidekicks, Tucker (Angus Sampson) and Specs (Leigh Whannell, who also wrote the screenplay). Made for just $1.5 million, Insidious is good-looking and distinctive, with scenes in the Further sharing an aesthetic with Dead Silence, and a mythology that clearly had legs. To date three sequels have been made, with a fourth confirmed last year. – Rosie Fletcher

2. The Conjuring 2

As a horror sequel done right, Wan’s follow-up to the biggest horror movie of his career felt like a palate cleanser for the director. After helming the successful but tragically troubled production of Furious 7, Wan returned to his roots and delivered a fiendishly designed thrill ride. In The Conjuring 2, we again follow Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga’s fictionalized takes on Ed and Lorraine Warren, this time to London as they investigate the infamous “Enfield Poltergeist” (spoiler alert: it’s a demon).

Once again Ed and Lorraine play the good samaritans and help a young family in desperate need, and Wan still keeps it wildly entertaining and suspenseful, if not necessarily fresh. But as important as his gliding camera set-ups and ability to create new iconic images of evil out of seeming whole cloth—hello, there demon Nun!—it’s the humanity in both of Wan’s Conjuring films which elevate them above the rest of their franchise. Never mind the ghosts; the scene of Wilson crooning Elvis Presley to some beleaguered children is the stuff of movie magic. – DC

1. The Conjuring

James Wan couldn’t have picked better subjects for his paranormal investigation franchise than Ed and Lorraine Warren, the controversial demonologists who left behind countless diaries and recorded accounts of demonic possession, haunted houses, and other supernatural events they claim to have witnessed over their decades-spanning careers. They even opened a museum full of spooky artifacts in the back of their Connecticut home. This is a couple who enjoyed digging into the occult, and with The Conjuring, Wan showed just how much he loved telling stories about the Warrens. 

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The first film covers one of the Warrens’ most famous cases, the Perron family haunting, with more than a few embellishments thrown in for an effective ghost story. In the real-life account and the movie, Roger and Carolyn Perron (Ron Livingston and Lili Taylor) are haunted by an antagonistic spirit that wants their newly-purchased 18th-century farmhouse in Rhode Island all to itself. That’s where the Warrens come in to investigate the strange occurrences, like the smell of rotting flesh in the basement.

The chemistry between Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga, who bring the Warrens to life, is one of the movie’s greatest strengths, establishing one of the franchise’s most important themes: that love can defeat any evil. It’s their devotion to each other, and their will to help others in need, that allows them to overcome any supernatural obstacles in these movies. (It’s why the sequels spend so much time threatening to tear them apart.) More than the creepy set pieces—like a possessed Carolyn in the crawl space *shudder*—and the “based on a true story” tagline, it’s the Warrens as characters that people keep showing up for, and the first Conjuring cleverly sells their love story to an audience just expecting jump scares and demons. – John Saavedra

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