#im on the floor with everyone playing toys right. having a great time

[rolex-kaard]

it's actually so stupid

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I've done a Backstory!Post! for the first of my currently mentioned platonic yandere favorites... now I think it is time for the next one. To begin with, we had how Logan Howlett/Wolverine met his bby... so that means Victor Creed/Sabretooth is next! Let's begin this second Backstory!Post:

• Victor has not had a pretty life. Abused by his father, seen as a freak, hurt and cursed and hated, it wasn't a hard choice for him to decide to become the monster everyone expected him to be. It served them right. Everyone was the same, cowards and pigs, the lot of 'em. And if one was to survive, you had to be the meanest, the strongest, of the lot. He could count on his hand how many people he actually had an interest in.

• His bby is likely someone who surprises him. They are something unexpected, something different than the usual people he deals with. Maybe they are someone with a powerful mutation, or someone who happened to gain the upper hand on him. Maybe they have been dealt a similar hand to him, being hurt to such a degree that it leaves lasting wounds on their psyche... Either way, this bby isn't scared of him. For some reason, they don't see him as someone to revile or hate... if anything, they might be neutral, or even cordial, with him. For once, someone just treats him like a person.

• Their first meeting could be anywhere, really. Perhaps they meet on opposite ends of a fight... perhaps they are in the same group for the time being... for this scenario, I think they would both be held captive by someone. A scientist who wants to study different mutants and their abilities, and in turn make them into weapons, pawns, their own personal soldiers. This person is cruel and manipulative, playing their captives against each other, in an attempt to leave them unwilling to unite against them. Yet for the bby... they don't crack...

• And for the life of him, Victor can't figure out how they did it... how his bby stayed themself, unbroken and untamed... but no matter how they did it, he's not complaining... this is their origin story of meeting, after all, and of course his bby would turn out to be as unbreakable as he is...

• Of course it's his luck to get stuck in this situation. Another freak-of-the-week mad scientist wantin' to try their hand at mutant experimentation. Yep. Just his freakin' luck. And this one... this one is one f*cked up son uv a gun...

• You're not having a great time. Some nut-case is capturing and testing mutants... and you're one of the (un)lucky souls who got caught. Your mutation can only do so much, and this complete psycho has prepared for almost every ability there could be. All sorts of drugs, plenty of torture devices, not to mention the actual power-negating stuff... and this freak doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon. They want to break you, to squash you into nothing and program you and every other mutant here into their personal toys...

• And you happen to have gotten on their nerve this time. It's not like this is the first time you've tried... but this is the first time they actually showed any outward signs of anger. They didn't take too well to you calling their work meaningless, a disgrace to science... so it seems they've finally decided to do something about you... So here you are, being dragged into a room and locked inside until they see fit to "test you" again... but... the thing is... you're not alone in there...

• Great... looks like they brought 'im some fresh meat... Victor groans a little as he gets up. Chains hold him to the floor, shackled to a thick metal cuff around each of his wrists. D*mn it... he can't even leave his side of this prison. And he takes a good look at what the lab rats brought 'im... and he isn't very impressed. It's a kid, that much he can tell... one who looks roughed up quite a bit... heh. Seems like someone made the doc mad.

• "Heh. Looks like we're gunna be stuck here fer a while, huh, whelp? Why don't'cha come closer, so we can get better acquainted?" He watches them, as they take in their new surroundings. The fresh meat winces as they move, but, they do approach him... yet they stay just out of reach... and then ask if he's okay...

• What? Is the whelp drugged er somethin'? They seem to realize what they just asked, and rub at their neck, looking sheepish. They point out that it's a stupid question, but that they are concerned. About him. "Uh, whelp. Ya realize ya should be more worried 'bout yerself, right? The doc must be rather p*ssed with ya ta throw ya in here with me." He lets out a cackle, then regrets it almost immediately when his chest aches with every breath. D*mn that f*cking *sshole doctor, professor, whatever the h*ll they claim to be! The whelp ain't the only one who earned the doc's wrath... whatever the loon gave him, it inhibits his healin' ability...

• "I guess the doc doesn't really like us, eh? This must be "special time-out" fer us, huh, fresh meat?" He sighs, his ribs aching with the motion. The kid hasn't stopped looking at him, but... it's not with fear, or contempt... if anything... they actually look worried fer 'im... They shuffle their feet uneasily, but he can't smell fear on them. None in the least. Blood, sure. Sweat, yep. But not a trace of panic or hate. Huh.

• You watch your cell-mate with concern. He's a giant. Chains hold him back, limiting his movement and leaving him trapped to the back of the cold room. Dark, dried blood covers him, and you can see wounds where the cuffs rubbed against his wrists. Not to mention the bruises coloring patches of his skin splotches of greenish-tinged black. He looks dangerous, deadly... but you stay near, asking if he wants something to eat...

• "Ya realize there ain't any food here, don't'cha, fresh meat? Unless yer offerin' ta be a sacrifice," he huffs out. But you just chuckle, and produce something hidden within the fold of your sleeve... it's a squashed protein bar... but... it's food...

• You ask the man if he doesn't mind that this is what you were able to hide on you. Then promptly explain that it won't taste very well, but it should sate some of his hunger. That he needs it just as much as you or anyone else here needs it. You notice the shackles restrict his arms to the point he can't lift them to his face... possibly as a method to force him to rely on the scientist and their minions for everything... you ask if he's still hungry, and that you're going to have to hold it for him while he eats, if he wants it...

• "'Kay, then. I promise, I won't bite ya. Scout's honor. Now, can ya come over here? I'm starvin'." He waits patiently as you approach him, bringing the much-needed food with you. You open it, holding it up for him to eat, still no signs of panic or fear. He can't help but chuckle a little at that. Looks like ta him, you're one tough little whelp. Maybe you're worth keepin' 'round...

• He takes a bite from the offered food, and you give him a soft, tired smile...

• "Not bad... hmm... thanks, whelp. I think we're gunna get along just fine..." With that, he devours what's left of the food... this moment is how you met Victor... and he never would've guessed that he'd end up with someone like you as his bby...

[killerqueenfan]

Coming Home 

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Five years after the fight with Thanos Bucky finally comes home to you.

This is my first time posting any of my writing on here, I know it's not that great but I'm proud of it :)

..................................................................................................................................................

Five years,  that's how long it's been since you last heard his voice, felt his touch and been able to get a full night's rest. That’s supposed to change today or so you all hoped. You remember the day Steve came to talk to you about Tony’s newest discovery. You couldn't believe what you were hearing and you couldn't get your hopes up. If it was just you it would have been different but you have to worry about the person in the other room. The most important person in your life, your son James. 

When Steve showed up that day for what you thought was just a regular visit to you and his nephew, you knew something was going on the moment you saw him. He greeted you like he always did with a hug and a kiss on your cheek but he seemed nervous. “What's going on Steve?” you had asked him as soon as he pulled away. “Can't I just come and visit with two of my favorite people y/n? Where is the little guy anyway?” he said with a smile.  “You know I can tell something is up right, you're nervous about something” you raised your eyebrow up. “Uncle Steve!” James yelled as he came barreling around the corner and smashed right into Steve's arms. You laughed at your son as he knocked Captain America himself over, or so your son thought. “Hey J man! Have you been working out?” , Steve says to James while lifting him in the air. 

Your son squirmed in Steve's arms while laughing, “No Uncle Steve I'm a Super Soldier like you and Daddy, Im super strong!” You and Steve start laughing at the 4 and a half year olds attempt to give his best mean face to show how serious he was. You loved days like this when Steve would visit and they would play and goof around, James needed it, and so did you. He would visit often to keep you company and to help with his nephew as much as he could. Some visits he would bring Aunt Natasha along so you and your friend could catch up. You used to be an Avenger fighting right alongside your family but that all changed after Thanos, after you lost the love of your life and knew you would be raising your child alone. But your family made sure you were never alone through any of it and every one of them absolutely loved the littlest member of the family. 

“Hey J man why don't you go set up your toys and I’ll be there in a minute, I need to talk to your Mom first” Steve set James on his feet after flying him around for a bit. “Can we play Avengers?” your son's favorite thing to play because he knew he would get to hear stories about all of your friends and he thought Captain America and his Avengers were the best. And Steve loved playing with him and telling these stories, even if Spider Man was James favorite one to play. “Of course we can kido” James' eyes lit up as he ran past Steve to head to his room to get set up. “He never gets tired of hearing stories does he?” Steve askes with a sad smile on his face. “No he doesn't, he loves hearing about everyone, you guys are all his heros, especially Bucky. He loves to hear stories about his Father.” you said while trying to hold back your tears. James never met his Father but he loved him so much and wanted to hear everything about him that he could get out of you and Steve. 

“What's going on Steve? You never send James to his room like this to talk to me, you're making me nervous” you started pacing around your living room. Steve walked up to you and placed his hands on your shoulders. “We think we found a way to bring them back, to bring them all back” Your breath hitched in your throat and your legs felt weak, you were sure if Steve didn't have ahold of your arms you would have hit the floor. Steve led you over to the couch and sat you down next to him, “What do you mean bring them back? Thanos used the snap and then destroyed the stones. How could you bring them back?” You were starting to feel light headed and you were trying your best not to cry. Steve then went on to explain how Tony figured out time travel and the plan to go back and get the stones and use the snap to bring them all back. You had a hard time wrapping your head around it but you believed in your family and knew if anyone could do it they could. Steve stayed late that night with you and James, keeping your son busy while you made dinner and had time to think about everything, about the possibility of your Bucky coming home. When Steve left that night after putting James to bed he hugged you and told you “This will work y/n, I know it will. I will bring Bucky back to you and to his son” You hugged him a little tighter and told him to be safe and tell everyone else the same and that you loved them all, “you know I wish I could help you guys but I…” “You can't leave James, y/n we know and we would never ask you to, I need you here and to keep that little man and yourself safe and be ready to have your family back” Steve told you with a smile, you wiped the tears from your eyes and smiled back. “I will call you when it's over y/n!” and with those last words he headed to his car and you closed your front door. You barely made it back to your couch before a sob racked through your body so hard you couldn't catch your breath. When you finally made it to your room that night, you cried yourself to sleep.

“Mommy?” James' voice startled you as you stood at the stove cooking dinner. “Yeah Sweetheart?” you turned to your son with a smile on your face that did not reach your eyes but he was too young to notice. “When is Uncle Steve and Aunt Nat coming over again? I miss them.” He asks you and you notice his Captain America and Spider Man action figures held tight in his hands. You smiled at your son and you told him “They will come over soon baby, they are busy right now. But you know they love you and can't stay away from you for long”. You walked over to your son and ruffled his hair up. “Are they fighting bad guys again?” James asked while looking up at you with his big blue eyes that matched his fathers completely. Your heart sank at his question, he was so young, you hated that he knew so much about the bad guys in the world. The bad guys that took his family away from home for weeks at a time, the bad guys that took his Daddy away from him. You knelt down in front of your son “yeah baby they are, but they will be back soon”, you hoped anyway. Your son hugged you then, knowing you had a sad look in your eyes. James was so smart for his age and understood so much, and cared so much, he was just like his father. “Will Uncle Steve bring Daddy home?” Your breath caught in your throat and tears came to your eyes while you held your son a little tighter. “Oh sweetheart, I don't…” The sound of your phone ringing cut you off mid sentence and you knew who it was but you were frozen. You just looked at your phone sitting on the counter, you couldn't bring yourself to answer it, you didn't want to know what he would tell you. You couldn't hear it didn't work, that they couldn't bring them back, couldn't bring him back. You don't think you could get through it. You didn't realize that as you were frozen on the floor of your kitchen your son had wiggled his way out of your hold and grabbed your phone. “Hi Uncle Steve, yeah Mommy is here, she's sitting on the floor. I think she's broken” your son’s giggle snapped you out of it and you jumped to your feet reaching for your phone in James hands. “Steve….” you held your breath while you were waiting for him to say something, anything. “We got them back y/n, Bucky is back” You fell back down to your knees from your legs feeling so weak and you started to cry, but even through your happiness and shock you could tell Steve wasn't telling you something. “What happened Steve, what's wrong?” you were surprised by how strong your voice sounds, you definitely didn't feel it. “Don’t worry about that right now y/n, just focus on the good. Buck is coming home to you and James.”

You don't know how you got where you were but you were in your car with your son on your way to Tony and Pepper’s house. The last hour has been a blur and all you know is that Steve said a few people were going over to Tony’s house because the compound was destroyed. You only told James that you were going to see Steve and a few friends, you didn’t want to get your son’s hopes up about meeting his father when you couldn’t believe it yourself. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you haven't seen him in five years. You knew for him it was just a blink of an eye and he wouldn't have changed since the last time you saw him but you have changed. You have aged five years and you had a child, you were different. Would he still love you, would he still want you, would he be happy with having a child, these were all questions running through your mind. But you knew deep down he would still be your Bucky and still love you and will love his son, but you couldn't help but be scared. 

Tony didn't live far from you, which you were grateful for, and before you knew it you were pulling up the long drive. As soon as the car was in park James was ready to get out of the car and see his Uncle, but you moved slower than normal getting him out of his carseat. You saw a few people outside and you were already ready to break down in tears seeing some of your friends who vanished in the blip. You greeted Peter, Wanda and Clint out on the porch with hugs and tears. Clint had disappeared after his family vanished so this was the first time seeing him in five years too. You introduced your son to all of them and James was so excited to meet Spiderman, his favorite superhero despite Steve's protest, and Peter was more than happy to talk to him. You asked Peter if maybe he could keep James busy while you went inside to find Steve and Bucky, and of course Peter was happy to help and James wouldn't leave his side yet even if you tried. Wanda pulled you aside and told you what happened and the loss of Nat and Tony and you were heartbroken. You have been close with them for years, they were your family, Nat was one of your best friends. As you were wiping your tears you heard a familiar voice coming from the kitchen and you couldn’t breath. Wanda noticed and grabbed you by the arms, “y/n it's ok, it's just Bucky, he hasn't stopped asking Steve about you since the fight ended”. Wanda gave you a warm smile and you nodded your head and walked towards the kitchen. When you rounded the corner you could see Sam, Pepper, Steve and then right in between them was your Bucky. He looked the exact same as the day he vanished and looked as handsome as ever. Tears were running down your face and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped your lips. Every set of eyes turned to you but all you could see was one set, one set of the most beautiful steel blue eyes you have ever seen. “Bucky” you could only say in a whisper, and he was across the room in an instant with his arms wrapped around you in a tight hold. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his around your waist with his face buried in your neck. You were shaking and Bucky only held you tighter, “I missed you so much Buck, I can’t believe you're here, your home”. “I missed you too sweetheart, Im here, I got you, Im home” He pulled away first but just enough to look at you, “Still as beautiful as ever”. You giggled at the comment, “and you're just as handsome as always”. You didn't notice you were the only two left in the kitchen, everyone else must have left to give you some privacy, you wanted to remember to find Pepper and let her know if she needed anything she could ask you. You were watching Bucky and his eyes kept going from your eyes to your lips and back again, “Just kiss me already Buck”. “You don't need to tell me twice Doll” and with that smirk you fell in love with his lips were on yours. It was like no time had passed, his lips molded to yours perfectly and they took your breath away. You tightened your hold around his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, and when you pulled slightly you heard a beautiful moan escape his lips, which made you smile. “I love you Buck”, “I love you too sweetheart”. 

You would have kept on going in your own little bubble if not for a squeal and laughing from a little voice from the front porch “Uncle Steve put me down!” You pulled away from Bucky “Uncle Steve? Who is he with out there?”, he asked with a laugh but as soon as he locked eyes with you he froze. “Buck...when the blip happened I was...ummm I was pregnant”, you said while trying to avoid his eyes. You were scared of his reaction, you were afraid he wouldn't want this, then what would you do. Before your mind had much time to think about it you felt his fingers on your chin trying to get you to look at him. When you looked up you were met with watery blue eyes and a smile on his face. “We have a child? I'm a father?”, he whispered to you. “Yeah baby we have a four year old son, James Steven Barnes and he is so much like you”, you said to him while wiping his tears away with your thumbs. “He loves his Uncle Steve and he loves hearing stories about you two when you were young” you told him with a smile on his face. You took a hold of his hand and kissed him one more time. When you pulled away, “You want to meet him?” All Bucky could do was nod his head, but you could see the fear in his eyes and you knew him well enough to know exactly what his worry was about. “Buck look at me” you waited until his eyes slowly met yours while you cupped his cheek in your hand, “James knows about your arm and he doesn't know anything about the Winter Soldier being a bad guy or any of that, he just knows you lost your arm in a fall and that it saved your life. Your son asks about you every day and he loves you, I promise.” Bucky’s eyes stayed locked with yours and you could see his nerves calming down and with a smile he said “Okay let's go get our son.”

With Bucky's hand in yours you led the way to the front porch where Steve and Peter were running after your son in the yard. Steve picked up your son and was ‘flying’ him around in his arms to get away from Peter. “James”, you yelled for your son with a lightness to your voice and he looked up at you. “Hi Mama Uncle Steve was just….Daddy!!” James yelled and squirmed his way out of Steve’s arms and ran up onto the porch and right into Bucky’s arms, he had knelt down to be at his level. Your heart swelled at the sight of your two favorite people finally together at last. You could tell Bucky was trying not to cry as your son had his little arms wrapped around his neck and looked like he never wanted to let go. But your four year old let go first and kissed his father on the cheek, “are you going to have to go away again?” Jame’s little voice broke your heart and you could tell it broke Bucky’s too. “No I’m not going anywhere buddy, I’m coming home with you and Mommy”, Bucky said while looking up at you with a smile. You smiled back at him and then looked over your shoulder at Steve and he was smiling as well. “Good! Now will you play Avengers with me and Peter and Uncle Steve?” Jame’s was already trying to get back down to run and you all laughed at how carefree he was. “Of course I will but you will have to show me how to play”, Bucky said while standing up to follow his son back into the yard but paused in front of you for a quick kiss to your lips “He's amazing y/n, you are amazing” he said before going back for another kiss. “Daddddyyyy” your son whined, he was ready to play with his Dad for the first time and he didn't want to wait another minute. “I already love hearing that” he whispered to you and then he took off running after your son. You couldn't help but laugh at the site in front of you, two super soldiers and a teenager running after a little four year old, but you loved it. 

You had only stayed on the porch for a few minutes before you joined them in the yard and for a moment you tried to forget about the loss of two of your good friends and family members and enjoyed having the love of your life back and Peter back  who is like a little brother to you. You were happy, you had your family back.  After about another hour your little soldier was yawing, “Hey James why don't we take Daddy home and let poor Uncle Steve and Peter get home”, you laughed at the frown on his face but then Bucky picked him up and held him and James snuggled right into Bucky’s arms. You said your goodbyes to Steve and Peter with plans of an upcoming play date with James, while Bucky was putting your sleeping son into the car. As Bucky shut the door he caught your wrist in his hand and pulled you close to him and kissed you, “Marry me?” he mumbled against your lips. You pulled away from him just enough to look into his eyes “What did you say?” you asked with a smile playing on your lips. “Marry me, I wanted to ask you before the fight but I didn't want you to think that's why I was asking. I don't have a ring or anything yet but I'm just so happy to have you and James and I don't want to waste anymore time and…” “Yes", you interrupted his rambling. “Of course I will marry you! I love you, you are it for me Buck” He pulled you close for another kiss and you could feel him smiling against your lips. “Let's go home doll" 

[huntertherapyeras]

Still off my rocker about your toh gymnastics au….. I hope you don’t mind questions feel free to ignore this if so BUT . I’m very curious how the Luz/Willow/Gus friendship develops, if it does, and also everyone’s strengths in the sport…. and whatever other aspects of the au you want to talk about …. 🙏

omg i LOVE questions and i am so excited tk answer!

so willow is just generally an amazing person and when luz comes to her first jo 2 team practice willow is super welcoming and helps her learn the beginning stretch routine! theyre the same age even though willow is a level 4 and willow has been at the gym a really really long time (the only reason shes only in jo 4 is that shes afraid of high bar and has trouble with her bar skills generally partially because her upper body strength isnt great.) she sees a kindred spirit in luz and is excited to have someone her age at her practices in particular because shes the oldest in jo 4! and willow introduces luz to gus since willow and gus tend to hang out together during snack for longer practices! (in this au willow is lonely ... she and amity used to be in the same group and very close but willow picks stuff up slower and when amity skipped jo 5 and moved straight to 7 when they were 10 amity's mom forced amity to stop talking to her)

onto strengths!

so with luz, she actually has a lot of raw natural talent. but she only took tumbling with eda so her knowledge of basic gymnastics is limited! like for instance the first time she touches the bars she picks up a chin up pullover right away but she doesn't know about pointing her toes, staying hollow, straight legs etc. this is why she is in jo 2 - to learn form and basics and still compete. im toying with the idea that the gym doesnt actually have an xcel program until the season after luz starts there, which is why she and willow switch over as the first group.... yknow what im gonna stick with that i like it. but yeah! luz's tumbling skills are way more advanced than her vault, beam, and bars for form reasons mainly. if she did tramp and tumble instead of artistic she could probably easily compete t&t jo 6. she does pick up very fast though for someone who didn't do any sport until she was 11!

(fun fact i actually helped build my old gyms xcel team a few years back as an assistant coach - i loved it. only stopped coaching because of the pandemic and by the time i went back id lost my spot. it was. heartbreaking. the kids barely remembered me... anyways... just a little aster lore in there for ya 💜)

onto willow!!! her floor is also very advanced, she is working on twisting layouts at open gym. her vaults are lovely! her beam is really solid too, like level 4 is really child's play for her but her bars holds her back a lot. she deals with undiagnosed hypothyroidism and the beginnings of pcos which can cause one to naturally have a bigger build and chronic fatigue as well. bars was never her strong suit but when she hit puberty she ended up gaining weight and it can be hard to rebuild upper body strength in that situation (this comes from personal experience btw). theres nothing wrong with being fat! that being said, fatphobia in gymnastics is a HUGE issue, like really bad. moving into xcel is really amazing for her though! because theres a lot less pressure in the xcel program and its mostly about accessibility :3

because amity is hypermobile, she's very flexible and has lovely lines and dance. a lot of her skills are based around her strength in contortion (to her detriment, as party tricks can cause a lot of pain later on for hypermobile folks). bars is a little more difficult for her, but she puts a lot of work into conditioning and training even outside the gym in order to make it unnoticeable. vault and tumbling and bar dismounts cause her a lot of pain that she basically just represses because the high impact is just a lot on her joints. she experiences dislocations and subluxations fairly regularly but has learned to just put whatever joint back in and move on with her day - she takes a lot of ibuprofen as a result x.x. she is EXTREMELY talented but also highly motivated and perfectionistic. her mom puts a lot of pressure on her to be at the top and she also has to deal with being in her already elite older siblings' shadows. its not a fun time for her :( things get better when she loosens up a little though!

gus is Great at everything. hes a level 6/7 training 9 at 10 years old and has no fear whatsoever - literally none. he'll try anything, he doesnt give af. but he struggles with connecting with his teammates because he is both the youngest in his group and one of the best, so people are very jealous of his ability and success

oh also theyre all autistic. all of Them.... luz also has adhd. amity deals with maladaptive daydreaming and dissociation (so real...) and luz comes out as nonbinary when shes older.... [starts screaming]

they are the babiest and i love them with all my soul!!! 🥺

[sunnysidevans]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 | 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Summary: Everyone goes through stages in life, meeting new people, falling in love, getting married , having children. Some people think it won’t happen to them but maybe fate hadn’t lead you in the right direction. 

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST , TW: slight sexual harassment , fighting , language , 18+ reccomended 

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

PREVIOUS STAGE | THE STAGES MASTERLIST

READERS POINT OF VIEW

THREE MONTHS AFTER FIRST DATE

The sound of your alarm woke you up on the cold Monday morning. You groaned as you rolled over and hit the off button on the top, with a sigh you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a yawn, as you were waking up you grabbed your phone from the charger on the bedside table, with a smile you opened the text from Chris “CHRIS: Good morning beautiful! I hope you have a great day today, call me maybe at lunch time?” you smiled as you read the text and sent him a quick reply which was soon interrupted by Zeus, ready for his morning run around the yard. After having a cup of coffee and making your way out of the shower and many clothes tossed to the side, you were finally ready to leave for the day. Making your way out the house you made sure to give Zeus a kiss to the head and a scratch behind the ears and making sure all toys were out from under any furniture, “okay buddy, I love you. Maybe you can have your buddy over later, maybeeee” you said with a smile as you shut the door behind you and make your way to your vehicle to start the dreaded Monday morning.

Driving into work you danced in your seat to the song playing on the radio, humming along softly you pulled into the parking garage attached to the office, being met with Casey. “You made it today” he smirked as he watched you get out of the vehicle, you turned to face him after fixing your skirt, tilting your head you sighed “what does that mean?” you asked as you grabbed your bags from the back seat as you watched him walk past you “well I mean, I figured you spent your weekend with your new boyfriend you can't stop raving about '' he said as the door closed behind him. You made your way into the office, with a sigh you set your things down at your desk and sat down, you couldn’t imagine why Casey made that comment? You shook your head, pushing the thoughts aside and got to work, grabbing all the papers you needed to start the day and get everything done for the long Monday. “(Y/L/N)!” Casey yelled from his office, you got up quickly making your way into the office, standing in front of him “yes?” you asked, adjusting the jacket you had on “well, if you aren’t too busy, I would like you to come to court with me today” he asked looking at you as you nodded quickly “no not at all! Of course I will!” you smiled excitedly, as he nodded “okay, good”.

Leaving the office, you completely lost track of the time,time hitting around 1 pm, having no clue you had just checked your phone with a text “CHRIS: I hope you’re okay, you didn’t text, just checking in, we gotta talk tonight” you sighed, shoving your phone in your purse, what could you possibly need to talk about? You sat in the back of the courtroom taking notes as Casey began the case, you followed along intently on the case as the intern you were but being first hand was exciting for you. “You did great!” you complimented Casey, following him out of the courtroom, holding both your notebook and bag you looked at him “I mean I knew the evidence was there but my god that was like an episode of Law and Order or something!” you laughed following to the car as he laughed in response “see kid, stick with me you can do that everyday of your life if you wanted” he grinned, holding the door open for you as you nodded in thank you before you felt a hand on your butt, gasping you turned and looked at him with shock on your face “What the hell!?” you turned away from him watching his face “oh don’t act like you didn’t like it” he shrugged as you looked over his face “Oh I did not ‘like it’” you put in quotes “I for sure did not appreciate that at all! You are my boss, what the hell” you shook your head, tossing his things in the passenger seat “oh like your boyfriend doesn’t mind, you clearly haven’t gotten much” he rolled his eyes in response to you, you scoffed turning  back to him “I will be going back to the office alone, and do not be surprised if i switch attorneys” you slammed the car door behind you walking away quickly.

Making it back to the office you walked inside quickly, ignoring the many glances from the other women in the office, making your way to your desk you grabbed your things quickly, as Nina made her way to your desk with a whisper “honey..” she whispered looking at you picking up your things. You turned to her with a slight sniffle “yeah?” you asked looking at her “are you okay? Oh honey” she whispered, giving you a hug, no one in the office had a clue that your own mentor groped you in a courthouse parking garage. You gave her a quick hug back as you whispered a soft goodbye and made your way out of the office and to your car. Once you made it to your car you sat back and cried softly, the tears streaming down your cheeks as your cheeks stained from your so called waterproof mascara. Starting the car you made your way home, sniffles and sighs the whole way, pulling into the driveway you sighed, grabbing your car keys and purse making your way inside. You made it inside and within seconds Zeus was beside you jumping up on your legs, you crouched down petting behind his ears and giving him a much needed hug, with a huff he rested his head on your shoulder.

After a few hours of sitting in your own pity on the couch with zeus you decided it was time to get off the couch and make something to eat. As you were standing in the kitchen you were scrolling through your phone, attempting to find a recipe or something to slightly interest you in making something for dinner, as you shouldn’t order takeout but it was in the cards. You looked through  a couple food blogs before coming across a tweet on your feed “OMG CHRIS IS IN LONDON OMG” you read the tweet a few times before continuing your investigation into the tweet. Taking the phone with you, you let Zeus back in from outside as you read through the tweets while you leaned against the door. You looked around with a scoff and pushed your hair back, you couldn’t be mad he was a grown man, but like london? You grabbed the phone quickly before dialing chris’s number quickly as you paced around the kitchen in the sweats and sweatshirt you borrowed from chris’s closet. You pulled the sleeves over your hands as you bit on your nails, waiting for the phone to pick up.

After a few short minutes the phone line clicked,signaling he had picked up and with a groan followed by “hello?” you sighed “chris” you snapped, probably louder than you should’ve as you expected him to be just waking up or sleeping from the time zones, “oh hey” he sighed again as you heard him adjusting in the bed “so uh, what did you want to talk about?” you asked as you thought logically, maybe it was a slip, maybe he didn’t mean to not tell you. “Oh I don’t remember now babe” he yawned loudly on the other end of the phone as you bit your lip “was it I don’t know… maybe the fact your in fucking london?!” you snapped over the phone as you looked around the kitchen, cringing at the fact you raised your voice at him, you heard the sigh as he sat up “oh yeah” he sighed “i’m so sorry I got on a flight and made it our here, it happened so fast I’m really sorry” you could hear the tiredness in his voice as he spoke, you felt horrible “okay but as your so called girlfriend you should’ve told me chris” you sighed pushing your hair back again. He sighed “yeah probably” he sighed as you groaned “yeah probably?” you mocked him over the phone as you sighed again “chris its fucking london! We had fucking plans this weekend!” you groaned “you could’ve even sent me a fucking text but no I find out my boyfriend is in fucking london over a god damn tweet” you yelled, zeus’s ears perked up at the raise of your voice “well maybe if my girlfriend” chris put emphases on the word “returned my phone calls and my texts we wouldn’t be in this mess now would we?” he sassed back. You laughed over the phone “you do realize I don’t sit and make movies right? I don’t have time to be accessible to my phone at your beckon call chris!” you yelled back as you could hear him adjust in the bed with a laugh “that's rich, but yet you're mad that I didn’t answer the phone and tell you i was in london?” he yelled back “seriously (Y/N) !” he finished with a sigh “you are upset im in london”. You shook your head knowing he couldn’t see it “No! I’m mad I didn’t even get a text that you were leaving the fucking count-” a knock interuptted your yelling as you sighed with a laugh as you heard him get out of bed. “Hold on” he said over the phone as he went to answer the door, you heard the door open and a “Hey Chris!”, a voice awfully femanine for being a buddy. You laughed and shook your head, ending the phone call there, you probably shouldn’t have ended on bad terms with the fight, was it dumb? Maybe. You sighed, starting to sob as you slid down and sat on the kitchen floor, the emotions of the day adding up for the day, flowing, you didn’t know what was going to happen with your life anymore, career or love wise.

-

TAGLIST: @onetwo3000​ | @memoriesat30 | @denise1605 | @angrybirdcr @hopefulbonkvoidland | @tessa-bl | @patzammit | @uniquebeautyqueen | @cocomel0613​

[mxchellesworld]

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, use of toys, exhibitionism, degradation, knife play, bondage

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

You had on a creme colored slip dress and underneath was the set which you had bought earlier in the day. Once you got home you had thrown your bags onto the couch and ran to your closet to look for a perfect outfit. You wanted to look angelic in contrast to the sins which you were hoping to commit during the night. 

You had searched in your shoe boxes for an old pair of heels you had from your college days. They were blush pink blocky heels which had long straps that wrapped around your calves. 

As annoying as you knew it would be you dusted some body glitter on your collar and shoulders to shine bright under the club lights. You did some dewy makeup and and made sure to highlight the highest points in your face. The final touch were your dangly earrings and a simple chain around your neck. 

Ordering an uber you waited in the lobby of your apartment with a fuzzy jacket over your outfit to keep off some of the chilly night air. 

You ended up showing up to the club at 6:55. You thanked the driver and bid him a good night. Walking down the familiar corridor you noticed someone else was in Penelope’s spot. 

You had texted her before you came asking if she was going to be around. She mentioned she was meeting with her brothers but insisted on grabbing brunch soon. 

A man with short dark curls and stubble was sitting at the desk. He greeted you with a bright smile. You were seriously going to ask Cat and Spencer where they found all these models to work for them. 

“Hey sweetheart are you new here?” he asked extending his hand for you to shake. 

You shook his hand and nodded, “Yeah kinda, I was here like last week. Is there anywhere I can put this?” you asked tugging on your jacket. 

“Just write your name on a sticky note and I’ll tuck it under here for you.”

He handed you the pad and a pen. You noticed the way the veins popped on his large hands. You pulled off the sticky and shrugged off your jacket. His eyes lingered over your curves as your dress was tight enough to hug them nicely. 

Handing both the items to him, he spoke again. “Why don’t you go ahead and add your number down on that note. In case you leave without it of course.”

You were about to reply when a voice spoke up from behind you, “Flirting on the job again, Luke.” You felt Cat’s hand on the small of your back. 

“Hey I’m just trying to be welcoming,” he said raising his hands in surrender. 

“Right,” she said. 

He looked back at you, “I’ll keep this safe Y/n, you have a good one sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” you said before looking back at Cat then letting her guide you. 

“You’ve just been catching everyones attention this week haven’t you angel,” she spoke in your ear. You shivered at her actions. 

“Yeah but not from who I wan though,” you said with a pout. 

She led you to the bar and nodded at a brunette who was behind the counter, “Aw are you upset we haven’t been around to give you what you want baby.” 

You nodded then looked at the bartender who placed two drinks in front of you, giving her a smile. They were pink and had lemon wedge on the side. It was fruity and you could taste the hint of alcohol in them. 

“Yes. Using toys on my own can only do so much Catherine,” you said looking in her eyes. You noticed the way her jaw tensed at the use of her full name. 

She grabbed your cheeks in her hand pressing on them just enough for you to feel pressure, “I think you forget you’re not the one in charge here angel.” 

You eyes widened. You forgot this wasn’t just a normal club. Anywhere else people might have looked at the scene in curiosity but here no one batted an eye when just around the corner people were doing worse for the eyes of everyone to see. 

“Well then why don’t you remind me,” you said challenging her. 

She got up dragging you by your hair, you noticed she was making way to the playrooms. She tapped on an earpiece you never saw behind her hair, “I’m gonna need Spencer in room number 3 please. Spencer room 3.”

She unlocked the door with a key she pulled out of her blazer, leaving it wide open. In the center of the room was a large bed and various pieces of furniture spread throughout. She pushed you down onto it, her hand traveling to grip around your throat. 

“Is this what you wanted? You want me and Spencer to play with you here and show everyone exactly who’s fucking slut you are,” she gritted out. 

You whined lowly trying to nod your head but of course she didn’t take that. 

“Whats your color?” she asked. 

“Green Mistress.” With that she landed a smack across your face. It wasn’t hard but enough for you to feel a little sting.

“Seems like we really did fuck you stupid. I’m gonna give you one more time to answer me correctly. Do you want us to fuck you here in front of everyone and let them see who fucking owns this tight little cunt.”

You all but yelled in response, “Yes Mistress please!”

Just then Spencer walked. He was wearing a black suit with just a white dress shirt under, the top two buttons undone again. 

He looked at Cat with a smirk then turned to you with an instant stone cold gaze. It drove you wild to see how quickly his demeanor changed. 

“Get on all fours and keep your head down,” Cat said before walking over to Spencer. 

You could hear their whispering voices as they decided what they’d do with you. Somehow you disliked that much more than when they would speak as if you weren’t in the room at all. At least then you knew what was coming. For now you shivered in anticipation knowing damn well you pushed all the right buttons to get to this moment. 

You heard the patter of Spencer’s dress shoes and Cats heels click on the floor as they moved about. The sound of a flip being switched but no lights in the room changing let you know it was the one on the sign of the door, signaling anyone could watch in. 

Before you knew it the sounds of more people walking in and spreading across the room brought you out of your thoughts. However Spencer came and tapped you on your back. You slowly lifted your head not knowing if you were allowed to. 

“You can sit,” he said softly. Another quick change from his last attitude. 

You pushed yourself off your hands and sat back with your bum resting on your calves. He leaned in slowly, pushing some of your hair behind your ear, “Im gonna explain a few things to you, alright?”

“Yes Sir,” you said nodding. 

He gave you a small smile before continuing, “Ok so all these people here are for you,” he said gesturing to them. You peered around and saw how they looked at you with a hungry gaze. 

“However if at any point you don’t want them here or you need to stop just call red. Again, there is no punishment in doing so, and they will understand also. You got that princess?” he said searching your eyes. 

“Yeah, thank you Spencer,” you said making sure he truly understood how grateful you were of him taking his time with you. 

“Great now lie back. I’m gonna tie you up with these,” he said pulling out roped from a drawer that was within the side of the bed. 

You scooted up to rest your head on the pillows lifting your hands above your head for him to take. He used the red rope to intricately tie them to the frame above you.

You gave them a test tug, “Are they too tight?” he asked.

“No Sir,” you said with a smile. 

Cat walked back over trailing her trusty crop up your body. The dress had slipped up past your thighs. 

“Whats your color angel?” she asked sweetly. 

“Very green Mistress.”

“Good girl,” she said before landing a swat on the side of your thigh. 

You yelped out at the impact which made her laugh. She moved around the space with her shoulders squared. Your eyes followed her every move trying to brace yourself for the next blow. She moved to your other side landing a swat on the top of your thigh. 

You mewled at the feeling. 

“Does our little slut like the pain?” she questioned, punctuating her sentence with another swat. 

You frantically nodded your head, “Yes Mistress! It hurts so good.”

She trailed the crop down your chest, “Well then then its not much of a punishment is it?” 

You saw Spencer walk over and noticed the knife in his hand, “Color?”

“Green sir.”

He looked you in your eyes as he trailed the knife down your cheek. Your breath hitched at the contact with cold metal. It slid down your collar then finally he pulled on to the low neckline of your dress and sliced through it. The fabric fell to your sides leaving your new set on display for everyone. 

The room was a low murmur. You noticed some people adjusting themselves in their pants even going as far as rubbing themselves over the material. 

You let out a quiet moan at the sight which Spencer had heard, “Do you see what you do to all these people angel? Too bad none of them get to lay a fucking finger on you. We’re the only ones who get to play with this perfect pussy,” he said trailing the blade down your clothed clit. 

You moaned louder at his words and the small amount of simulation. He let out a dark laugh which faded as a new sound was in your ear. Cat walked over holding a wand vibrator. 

“I gonna edge you twice. One for each time someone was flirting with whats mine,” she basically growled. 

“Yes Mistress.” 

Spencer set the knife down and pulled your legs apart. Cat wasted no time in pressing the vibrator right over your clit. You let out a symphony of moans. Your head fell back as you were swimming in pleasure. The knife was back on your skin and you felt it slice through the lace like butter. 

Spencer placed it back down then went to fondle your breasts. You let out mewls and curses of his title. Cat handed the vibe over to him and she picked up the crop. You heard the saw before you felt the impact on your opposite breast. 

“You’re getting close aren’t you angel?” she said mockingly. 

“Yes Mistress,” you said breathlessly. 

Spencer upped the setting on the vibrator and moved it around, circling right on your bud. 

“Shit I’m gonna cum,” you whined. 

“No you’re not,” Spencer said completely removing the vibrator, “Sluts like you don’t deserve to cum.” You felt your clit pulsating from the loss of pleasure. 

Sure enough the vibe was placed again on your aching bud. They kept it up for a few minutes. This orgasm coming on stronger and easier due to how stimulated you were. The mix of pain and pleasure along with their degrading words spurred you on even more. 

You were writhing on the sheets, head moving back and forth, back arching as you were so close to hitting your peak. The knot in your tummy seconds from breaking. 

“You better not cum angel,” ‘Cat threatened with a swat on your tummy. 

“I’ll just add another one and another one. I can leave you here tied up over night with the vibe on the lowest setting so that you never cum.” 

You moaned out no’s and please’s for her or Spencer to end your torture. Spencer saw the way your chest heaved on the brink of release. The vibe was gone again and you let out a groan of dissatisfaction. 

You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets below you. You knew there’d be a big wet patch on the center. Looking up you saw the crowd had grown bigger. Some watching from the hallway too timid to fully be emerged in the room. A pair of familiar brown eyes caught yours. 

Luke was standing there biting his lip. His eyes raked over your flushed form and looked at the small red marks from the crop which littered your thighs. You closed them in slight embarrassment. How long had he been standing there?

Cat spoke and pulled you out of your thoughts, “Are you being shy because your little friend is here?”

“No no I think she loves it,” Spencer spoke, “I think she loves seeing people watch her act like the desperate whore she truly is.” 

“You know what angel we’ll let you cum. Just so our guests can see how pretty you look.” 

“Thank you Mistress,” you said keeping eye contact with Luke. You noticed the bulge growing in his pants. 

Spencer hooked his finger into your panties and pulled them down your legs. He threw them over for Luke to catch and winked at him. He spread your legs as you were now completely bare for everyone to see. 

Cat took the wand and you heard the vibrator roar to life again. She wasted no time pressing it on your clit and circling it. 

You let out loud moans and whimpers which you were sure could be heard all the way to the bar. Your eyes shut closed at the pleasure was flowing through you. 

“Cmon princess be our good girl and show them how good we make you feel,” Spencer said leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

With his permission the knot in your tummy broke. You felt your release flow down your thigh as you screamed curses and thanked them. Your hands pulled at the roped trying to move away from the vibe on your clit. The overstimulation being too much to handle. 

She turned it off and set it to the side. Spencer moved to untie your wrists as Cat rubbed your cheek softly. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. 

Spencer rubbed your wrists and placed small kisses on them to soothe you. You sat up and wrapped your arms around your body. Now feeling self conscious about the unfamiliar eyes watching. Spencer had noticed and shrugged off his suit jacket to place over your frame. 

“I’m gonna go get the bag from our office,” he said looking to Cat. She nodded and watched as he walked away along with the the remaining people in the room. Luke was no longer present. 

“You did so amazing tonight angel. We are so proud of you,” She took your face in her hands and pressed small kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. Finally she made it to your lips and and gave you a kiss which was nothing but reassuring. 

She pulled away to speak, “Spence is getting our bag, we brought you a sweater and sweatpants.”

“So you planned for all this to happen?” you asked quirking a brow. 

She laughed in response, “Yeah something like that.”

You wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her in for more kisses. They were sweet and gentle but equally intoxicating. You could taste the strawberry mints which you remembered she kept all over the apartment. 

“Always starting without me,” Spencer said with a smile as he walked back, one hand held a brown leather bag and the other held your jacket. He closed the door behind him before setting the bag on the bed. 

You shrugged off the jacket and the torn items of clothing, “You guys owe me, I literally bought this earlier today!” you whined. 

“Yeah yeah, hands up,” he said pulling the sweater over your head. Cat pulled your hair out from under it tenderly. He squatted down to get your legs through the sweatpants. 

“I can dress myself you know,” you said through a smile. 

“Just let us take care of you angel,” Cat said holding your jacket open for you to get your arms through it. 

You sat back down to unwrap your heels. With how wobbly your legs were there was no way you’d make it out. 

Spencer’s phone chimed in his pocket, “The car’s here to pick us up. Let’s go home.”

With that you picked up the bag which held your heels and discarded clothing. You reached out to interlock your pinky with Cat’s but she shifted to hold your whole hand, looking back at you with a smile. 

You walked out of the lounge with a satisfied smile and your two favorite people on either side of you. 

[kinktae]

flesh and blood || 2 (M)

You are living in a society that is just now picking up the scraps that the Great Outbreak left behind after the government killed off the majority of the zombies. Still, some remain, and fear still lies within society’s walls. So imagine your surprise when the very thing you’ve been taught to fear ends up saving your life, showing you that maybe two beating hearts aren't always required when it comes to love.

pairing: zombie!jungkook x reader

word count: 5.9k

genre: post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, smut

warnings: lots of TV watching, mentions of conspiracy, joon doing some illegal shit, mentions of murder, & smooching

A/N: inspired by warm bodies and the fact that I'm a legitimate crackhead. 

01 | 02 | 03

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART TWO

Zombies were nothing like hamsters, you had come to find out over the past few days.

It seemed like an odd comparison, but it was the only other pet experience you could call upon. Your hamster, affectionately named Anarchy, was an impulse decision on your part, a running theme in your life it would come to seem. Nevertheless, you and Joon took it upon yourself to ensure she lived up her whopping two years of life, setting her up the biggest tank you could find and spoiling her with chew toys and salt licks. Anarchy was the perfect pet; she didn’t whine or grunt, didn’t eat all the chocolate in your fridge and she certainly didn’t follow you into the bathroom every time you needed to pee.

Your zombie friend, however, could not have the same said about him.

Namjoon and you spent many a night perched on the couch discussing very important zombie matters – Are steak saturdays a bad idea with a zombie in the house? Does he have a name? Should we be charging him rent? – while the zombie in question sat directly in front of the TV, completely consumed by the black and white film Namjoon had put on for him.

“Why can’t I just put some of my foundation on him?” You tried to reason.

“They’ll know he’s wearing makeup. Your foundation is cakey as hell.”

“What about— wait, what?” You blinked, surprised.

Namjoon shifted uncomfortably, flashing you an apologetic look, “Oh, sorry. I thought you knew.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at your TV to find that the zombie boy had not moved an inch since the last time you looked.

“Hey, brains.” You called out, feeling playful. “How would you feel about getting a spray tan?”

“Y/N, this is serious. I really don’t think he should ever leave the house.” Namjoon sighed, pulling your attention back onto him.

“You want to imprison him? He’s a person! He has to leave the house or he’ll go stir crazy. I know I would…”

Your best friend shook his head, and although you still felt like you had a case to argue, you knew that the discussion was over.

“I know, but if we’re seen outside with a zombie… It’s just what’s best for everyone, Y/N. Better safe than sorry.” Namjoon shrugged.

Leaning back into the couch, you crossed your arms over your chest. Of course, he was right, but that didn't make it any less unfair. Even if the zombie man had yet to utter a complaint since arriving at your place, you couldn't help but feel responsible for his well being. He saved your life after all.

A noise coming from the sitting zombie caused you and Namjoon to jump; it was a sharp, high pitched sound, unlike you had ever heard come from him before.

Shockingly, you looked over at the zombie to find the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as the scene playing out on the television reflected in his dark eyes.

"Did he just..." Namjoon gaped.

"Laugh?" You finished the shared thought, a warm feeling falling over you. "Yeah. Sounds like he just did."

Namjoon hummed, tapping a finger against his thigh contemplatively. Suddenly, he stood up, heading out of the room. Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure of what he was doing.

"Where are you going?" You inquired.

"To start a Project Z chart. My groundbreaking research begins today!" His voice informed you from somewhere in the apartment.

You grinned, chuckling slightly. Bringing your knees into your chest, you wrapped your arms around them. Project Z, huh? Alright. Count you in.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A thump against your foot pulled your eyes from your computer screen. You were sat in the living room, legs tucked under the coffee table as your ass took comfort on a pillow you placed on the floor.

"Hi, there!" You cooed, poking your head under the table as you greeted your hamster Anarchy. She had been roaming around the room in her giant clear hamster ball, one of her favorite ways to keep you company while you did your work.

The grey colored rodent continued forward, wheel rubbing against the length of your legs as she ran. Snatching the ball before she could get any further, you brought her up to eye level, her little nose sniffing at you.

"That's enough ball time for today, don't you think?" You asked her rhetorically.

Suddenly, your phone began to sound, the familiar tune of Monster by Lady Gaga ringing out for the kitchen.

"Brains!" You called out towards your zombie roommate, who was sat in his usual place in front of the TV. He wasn't actually responsive to your nickname for him, but thankfully, the volume of your tone caught his attention enough to turn and face you.

You placed Anarchy back onto the floor.

"Watch Anarchy." You pointed at your pet before pointing at him. "Don't let her roll out of the room."

The undead boy showed no sign of understanding, his eyes merely locking onto the contained mammal. He hadn't shown much interest in your hamster up until now, the TV taking up all his attention of course.

Thank god he was already a zombie because the amount of time he spent in front of that damn screen would have surely rotted his brain by now.

Assuming that his attention would not shift away from the rodent now that he was intrigued by it, you made your way out towards the kitchen, where you had left your phone to charge. You cursed as you watched the way the screen of your phone changed, the phone call ending before you could reach the device.

Grabbing your phone, you swiped it open, only to see that it had been Namjoon to call you.

Your eyes fixed on your phone, you sent him a message as you walked back into the living room.

[12:56 PM]

To: Joonie – sorry I missed ur call... did u need something?

You let out a small yelp as your toe hit itself on something– you knew exactly what it was as the sound of plastic rolling across the room rang out.

Your stomach sank heavily as you located the ball, not because you had just sent your hamster whirling across the room, but because the ball... was empty.

Your eyes widened as they found the ball's lid, lying ominously on the floor.

"Anarchy? How did–" You breathed before you realized you had left the zombie alone with your beloved pet.

A chill ran over you as you eyed him; he was once again watching the TV, cross-legged as if nothing was wrong.

"Oh my god..." You gaped. "Did– Did you eat Anarchy?!"

He didn't react to your voice and before you reason with yourself, you gripped his shoulder angrily, forcing him to look at you.

To your surprise, you were met with not just wide zombie eyes, but with the sight of Anarchy cupped carefully between his palms, very much alive. You let out a breath of relief, sinking down to sit beside him.

So your zombie friend didn't have a taste for rodents. Good to know.

"Sorry." You apologized reflexively before a chime, followed by another, called your attention.

The zombie watched carefully as you began to fiddle with that strange device he sometimes saw you occupied with.

You read the texts carefully.

[12:57 PM]

From: Joonie – just stopped by the market and picked up some human brains for dinner… JK lol

[12:57 PM]

From: Joonie – was gonna ask if you wanted something but im otw home. c u soon!

You were just about to put the phone away when something stopped you in your tracks.

Tap.

A finger poked at your screen, and your eyebrows raised to find the zombie leaning in close, attention fixed on the set of texts sent in by your best friend.

You gawked at him for a moment, unsure if he was capable of reading and understanding the words in front of him.

After a few silent moments passed by; you cleared your throat, deciding to read the texts to him.

“Just stopped by the market and picked up some human brains for dinner… JK haha.” You narrated.

To your surprise, the zombie boy let out a grunt, poking at your screen again. Confused, you followed his finger to see what exactly he was pointing at.

Tap.

His finger hovered over the acronym Namjoon had sent. Was he asking what it meant? You could imagine zombies weren't well versed in text slang.

“The letters J and K stand for just kidding.”

It felt silly talking to him like this. You had no clue if he even understood written language – or verbal for that matter.

If the boy understood what you said, though, he didn’t show any sign of it. Once again, he tapped his finger against the message, accidentally causing the word to become highlighted.

“Yes, yes, I see it.” You said, growing slightly frustrated at the clear lack of mutual understanding between you.

Tap.

“Okay, enough of that…” You sighed.

Ten minutes passed by uneventfully; Brains was watching his favorite show again, having had handed your hamster back so you could put her back and continue your work.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention, accompanied by the rustling sounds of the grocery bags Namjoon was carrying.

"Welcome home!" You greeted, not peeling your eyes from your screen.

"Can I get some help, please?" Namjoon's disembodied voice called out, stealing a sigh from you.

Begrudgingly, you closed your laptop, trudging over to the kitchen to help the scientist.

Offering him a nod in greeting, you began sifting through the bags he had heaved over onto the kitchen counter, on a hunt for any frozen foods that needed to be stored immediately.

"Did you buy–"

"Chocolate?" Namjoon finished for you, tucking away a tub of ice cream into your freezer. "Yeah, duh. You only reminded me eight times before I left."

You flashed him a sheepish smile, pulling a plastic container of strawberries from a grocery bag.

"Did you get any work done?" Your roommate wondered conversationally. You shrugged.

"I guess. This article Seokjin has me working on for the paper is dull as hell."

"And how is our zombie friend? Did you guys bond with me gone?"

“Obviously. I mean, we're practically best friends now." You teased, rolling up a now empty bag. Namjoon gasped suddenly, a hand over his heart in pretend offense.

"You're not trying to replace me are you?" He sniffed fakely.

"Well, he does get along with Anarchy. He took her out of her ball and held her and everything." You shrugged, a small smirk pulling at your mouth.

The fridge door shut sharply, Namjoon's eyes narrowing in distaste, "You're telling me that little rat likes an undead stranger better than me? I can’t even put a hand in her enclosure without her trying to gnaw off a phalange!"

"Stop calling her a rat, she's a hamster!" A laugh escaped you, ever amused by the way your pet despised him.

"Interesting that he didn't eat her though." Namjoon continued, the two of you were nearly done putting the purchased food away. "I'll make sure to note that in his chart."

"I was surprised, too." You nodded.

"Learn anything else interesting that I should write down?"

"Not really. Just that he really likes the acronym JK. I read your text out to him and he wouldn’t stop tapping at my phone when I showed him it.” You explained, slipping a hand into the back pocket of your jeans casually.

The groceries were all stored meaning your moral duty as a roommate to help put them away was officially completed.

“Really? Interesting..." Namjoon hummed.

"Is it?" You mused.

"This could mean he understands transcribed text."

You thought back to the way the zombie had shown little to no reaction to Namjoon's words before shaking your head in disagreement.

"I doubt it."

"You said you read it out to him right? Maybe it’s zombie slang for something. Or at least sounds like it.” He pressed.

You pondered that idea for a moment before responding, “You think zombies have their own language? I haven’t heard a sound out of him other than the occasional grunt or groan.”

“Why not? If animals are able to communicate within their own species, why not zombies? Nonverbal communication occurs in the animal kingdom all the time.” Namjoon explained, once again proving himself to be the smarter of you two.

Suddenly, without warning, he began to make his way over to the living room; you cocked your head in confusion before following him.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, worried he was going to harass the unsuspecting zombie again. Often you'd have to step in and remind Namjoon that the zombie wasn't a test rat that he could just poke and prod at whenever he wanted.

Said zombie was, of course, exactly where you had left him, sat upright on the couch looking stiff and unnatural as ever as he watched his TV with a blank expression.

“I’m gonna test out a theory.” Namjoon declared without warning, and to your disbelief, he let out a loud grumble.

“J...K…” He groaned out, voice clearly trying to imitate that of a zombie’s. Oh, god. Your best friend was an idiot. He really was.

Just as you were about to hit Namjoon on the shoulder for being such a dumbass, the seated zombie unexpectedly turned towards the two of you, clearly responding to the word.

He stared at you both with wide, unblinking eyes before letting out a huff of his own.

“Holy shit.” You breathed silently.

“Well. I think I just spoke zombie." Namjoon whispered. Neither of you dared to take your eyes off the walker as a small ounce of fear began to set in.

What exactly had Namjoon said to him? Was it possible to offend a zombie? Should you both start running now?

And as if you weren't taken back enough, you completely lost the ability to breathe altogether when a corner of the zombie boy’s mouth twitched upward, flashing you both a crooked, yet unmistakable smile.

“Is he... smiling?” You turned to face your best friend only to see that he was smiling back at the zombie.

“Remind me to put zombie whisperer on my résumé.” Namjoon grinned smugly.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"No, this is mine. That one is yours." You huffed, grabbing back the stolen candy bar.

"Mine." JK repeated, reaching over for the very item you had just taken back from him. You let out a groan, throwing your hands up in defeat.

"I take it he's not grasping the concept of ownership?" Namjoon glanced up from whatever hospital file he was looking over.

"That little brat knows what I mean, he's just greedy and stubborn." You accused, glaring at the zombie who had already peeled open the wrapper of your chocolate.

In the past two weeks since you first brought home the stubborn zombie, there had been much development on his part. For starters, Namjoon and you had deducted that his name must be JK as it was the only word he responded to every time without fail.

Along with that discovery came the shocking utterance of words on his part.

Y/N. Joon. No. Mine. Sorry. Candy.

Each one was just as jarring as the one before, even if simple. Namjoon, although disappointed your name was JK's first words and not his, was thrilled. Language reacquisition was certainly something reports on zombies failed to notice.

"Hmm... wonder where he picked that up from..." Namjoon muttered sourly. At his words, you frowned.

"Excuse me, are you suggesting something mister?" You raised an eyebrow at him challenging.

Your best friend let out a laugh, "You say that as if you aren't the most hard-headed, unyielding human being to ever walk this earth."

"Bold words for someone who can't even go to sleep unless a nightlight is present." You scoffed.

"Hey!" Namjoon slammed the paperwork down onto the coffee table, causing you to roll your eyes. The zombie frowned, eyes flickering between the two humans. "That was a low blow! I could have brought up the fact that you're in your twenties and still can't drive but some of us have class, you know."

"Driving is scary!" You defended, turning your nose up at him. "Besides, why do I need to drive when I have a chauffeur?"

"You ass, I am not your chauffeur–"

"Joon." JK's gruff voice rang out suddenly, silencing the room. His eyes glared at the tall human openly.

Namjoon looked taken aback at the zombie's sudden call, his eyes flickering to you for reassurance, but you hadn't a clue what was happening either.

"...Yes?" He finally replied, voice hesitant.

The zombie immediately dropped the chocolate, hand coming up to point at you instead. You quirked a brow, noting the way he had yet to take his cold eyes off Namjoon.

"Sorry." JK demanded.

You let out a laugh.

"Wha– Are you kidding?" The scientist marveled. "Hell no, I'm not apologizing to her."

"Joon. Sorry." The zombie said once more, a clipped tone behind the word.

You were a giggling mess, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you watched your roommates interact with amusement.

"Why just me? Y/N should apologize too!" Namjoon whined.

JK held the man's stare for just a beat when swiftly, he grabbed the file that he had placed down onto the table.

"Woah– Hey, naughty zombie! Give that back."

"No." The zombified man responded dryly, only causing you to laugh harder.

JK glanced your way for a moment, taking note of how pleasant the sound before once again turning to Namjoon.

"Yeah, Joon! Say sorry." He could hear you tease beside him.

"Yeah." JK repeated after you, his head nodding in a way that was convincingly human-like.

"Son of a bitch. He's like the undead male version of you." Namjoon griped, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ultimately, he cried uncle.

"Fine. Y/N, I am so sorry, please forgive me." His eyes flew back to JK, extending his hand out pleadingly. "Now can I please have that file back?"

JK frowned, wanting to say something but lacking the necessary words to express himself, so instead, he turned towards Y/N.

You were already looking at him, elbow perched on the table as you rested your chin on your open palm. You were smiling in the way that always made him feel funny; your eyes shiny and amiable.

You gave him a nod, which was all the reassurance he needed before he finally handed the file back over to the man he had stolen it from. Namjoon snatched it back eagerly, pulling it into his chest in case either of his roommates tried to pull that same stunt again.

"Monsters. Both of you." He said in a flat tone. You chuckled, heeding his words no mind as you spotted the abandoned chocolate lying on the table that the zombie had set down.

JK watched with a frown as you took the candy bar from him, his noise of protest dying in his throat the moment he saw the way your lips wrapped around the sweet treat.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Y/N.”

“Hm?” You replied, still concentrating on the apple you were slicing up for the zombie. As willing as he was to keep eating candy all day, you didn't want Jungkook's insides to decay any more than they already had.

Jungkook.

The sudden discovery of the zombie's full name was an unexpected one. It happened last week on a night much like others. You had just finished drying up his sheets and pillow cover, the fabrics warm and heavy in your arms. You had noticed your zombie friend had been particularly pensive that day, not chatting much which certainly was unusual for him nowadays. So as you walked into the living room, you weren't surprised to find him sitting at the couch staring out at the metal bars that ran along the length of the window as he appeared lost in his thoughts.

"Here you go. Nice and warm." You had announced, dropping the sheets onto the zombie's lap. He was yanked from his thoughts by the sudden weight.

"Nighty-night, sleep tight, don't let the zombies bite." You chimed breezily. The childhood rhyme might not apply in this particular case but you found the humor in it enough to say it to him every night.

The zombie gave you a slow nod, causing your brows to furrow slightly. It really wasn't like him to be this quiet. Lately, it had almost seemed as if he couldn't shut up; he was a human parrot, regurgitating and repeating every word that caught his interest, even occasionally forming sentences.

Namjoon deduced that this must be something of a second term speech emergence– or as you understood it, just a fancy science term meaning JK was rapidly learning how to speak.

A soft click rang out as you flicked the light switch on the wall off. The moon was bright and full tonight, it's light seeping through the window as it painted a wash of blue on the zombie and the couch.

"Y/N."

His voice was small; if it weren't for the quiet of the night you doubt you would've caught the call at all.

"Yes? Is everything okay?"

There was an undeniable melancholy in the air. It seeped through his tone and engulfed the room.

"I remember."

The words stunned you and after a silent beat, you were walking over to him, sitting down on the coffee table across from him.

"What? What do you remember? Tell me." You urged softly.

You watched as he swallowed shakily, eyebrows furrowing as his jaw opened and closed, fighting for a response. He could see it all, flashing from one scene to another in the back of his mind. There was a family that loved him. A pretty girl that made his chest tighten like it did when he was near you. A car accident. A morgue. Screaming. A group of six boys taking him in. Men in black uniforms pinning them to the ground as he hid and watched.

It was suffocating.

"JK?" You called out worriedly, noticing the way emotion clouded his eyes and how his breathing was becoming ragged.

"Jungkook." A name came out raspily as if saying it out loud was painful.

"What?" You blinked.

"Jungkook." He mourned, tears falling from his eyes. "I remember."

Your heart sank as his face twisted up, and before you could stop yourself, you stood and pulled him into you, his face finding the crook of your neck as he began to weep. You let out a breath, your hand petting the back of his head in hopes to comfort him, his hair still damp from his shower earlier.

Needless to say, when Namjoon came back from his night shift to see the two of you curled up asleep on the couch together, he had many questions.

“Y/N, come here.” Jungkook's voice insisted, causing you to huff.

'No please, huh? Typical man.' You thought to yourself bitterly as you placed the knife in the sink, scooping up the plate of freshly cut apples as you made your way over to him.

"Here. Apples. Eat." You ordered, placing the plate down in front of him. Jungkook had graduated from sitting on the floor to the couch while watching TV, truly an astonishing character development on his part.

"What are they doing?" Jungkook ignored you, completely captivated by whatever he was watching.

Pressing your lips together, you watched the scene unfold on the screened box.

“They’re kissing.” You said, glancing back at the fascinated man that sat beside you, unsure of how to approach this subject.

"What?" Jungkook cocked his head, clearly not familiar with the term.

“What they’re doing? Yeah, it’s called a kiss.”

The romantic lead and his female counterpart were locking lips under an umbrella as rain poured around them, uplifting music humming in the background. Just the kind of grand romantic movie ending all pre-apocalypse movies seemed to have.

“Kiss.” Jungkook repeated, testing out the word.

“Yeah, you do it with someone you care about. Someone you’re close with.”

“Do Y/N and Namjoon... kiss?” He muttered.

Your eyes grew, quick to shake your head vehemently, “Huh? Oh no! God no. We’re just friends.”

“Friends?” The zombie pressed.

“Yeah. We’re close and care about each other but… definitely no kissing.” You shuttered. You had known Namjoon for too damn long to even entertain that idea.

“No kissing. Just friends.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded, seemingly content with the information he was just given. "But why do they kiss?"

You shifted in your seat. Was this what parents felt like when it was time to give their kids 'the talk?'

“Well… It feels nice. And I guess it's a way of showing someone you love them.” You shrugged shyly.

“Love."

Jungkook seemed to be merely repeating you rather than pressing for an explanation as he turned his attention back to the movie.

“Confusing.” Jungkook concluded.

“Yeah, well, you’re not wrong.” You mused through a laugh, bringing his attention back on to you and the way he couldn't help but smile every time you heard you do so.

And there it was again. That strange, tight feeling in his chest that he had yet to find a word for... up until now.

"Y/N."

Turning towards him, your world froze the second his lips found yours. They were soft and warm much like the hands that cupped either side of your face.

Pulling away from the kiss, Jungkook opened his eyes, heat finding both your faces as you gawked at him with wide eyes.

"Sorry." He apologized suddenly.

"Y-You just..." Your words failed you, there was no possible way to wrap your head around what just happened.

You brought a hand to your lips, fingers running along your bottom one before covering your mouth altogether.

"Gosh. You have to ask before you kiss someone, brains." You turned away from him, tone of voice serious as if to scold him.

Jungkook nodded quietly, unsure of how to reply, especially when he could see the way you smiled behind your hand.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were trying to sleep, you really were. But unfortunately for you, when your, admittedly good looking, zombie roommate kisses you, it tends to consume your thoughts. You felt like you were overthinking everything despite the fact that you knew nothing.

Was it a misunderstanding on your part? Did you explain kissing in a way that confused him and he was just trying to express his gratitude towards you for taking care of him for all this time?

Or did he... love you?

God, you sounded ridiculous, you know you did. How could a zombie even understand an idea as complex as love? Why was this even affecting you so much? Why did it matter?

Your thoughts were bordering on dangerous territory right now, and in desperate need of a distraction, you rang up Namjoon.

"Joon!" You greeted the second he picked up.

"Uh, hey?" Your best friend replied warily. “Is everything okay?"

"What? Yeah! Of course, I mean, why wouldn't everything be okay?" You replied, heart racing as you swung your legs against the side of your bed.

"Well, for starters, you're calling me at three in the morning? Why aren't you sleeping?"

Namjoon often went to do work late at night at the hospital for his internship; usually, it meant you got to see little of him in the mornings as he was passed out cold but this time it actually worked to your advantage.

"Oh, I'm just... thinking, I guess. How are things at the hospital?" You diverted quickly.

"It's kind of a slow night," Namjoon revealed and you could almost picture the way he'd shrug, "but I'm guessing you didn't call me to ask me that. What's going on, weirdo?"

You let out a sigh. He was your best friend, after all. Of course, he'd see right through you.

"It's just... Jungkook. He's just so different from everything we thought we knew about zombies."

"I know, right? He's nearly completely fluent now, don't you think?"

"No, it's more than that." You furrowed your brows, laying back on your bed. "He's just– I mean he's got... emotions and preferences and memories. I think he might even... Ugh, nevermind I’m just overthinking.”

"Did... something happen that I should know about?" Namjoon mused. You bit down on your lip, unsure of how to answer.

"We know he's different from the others but–" You chose to ignore before he cut you off.

"But what?"

Staring at your ceiling, you sorted through your thoughts– thoughts that you had been toying with for a while now.

"What if there are more like him? And if so, where are they? Have they been killed? What role does the DEAD Team play in this?"

"Hm. I don't know... but let me see if I can find out." Namjoon said, causing you to sit up in surprise.

Of course! Research was Namjoon's whole thing. If anyone could find out more about this, it was him.

"Okay, yeah! Let me know if you find anything." You replied.

"And Y/N," Namjoon began suddenly, his tone shift slightly. "If you’re right... Wait. Nevermind, let's, uh, just not talk about this over the phone anymore, okay?"

"Oh... okay." You blinked in confusion at your best friend's nebulous words.

"Good night, weirdo."

"Night." You muttered back, hitting the end call button as you tried to suppress the uneasy feeling in your gut.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The feeling of someone yanking the covers off your body jolted you awake. Squinting, you tried to orient yourself, the lights in your room blinding your tired eyes.

"What the fuck?" You grumbled, eyes focusing on the hovering body that soon revealed itself to be your boisterous best friend.

"Morning, sunshine!" Namjoon chimed.

"Ugh, what time is it?"

"Around six in the morning!" He answered before taking a seat on your bed, dropping a pile of what looked to be meaningless junk next to your body.

“Can I just say, finding anything outbreak-related that isn’t Anti-Zombie propaganda is fucking difficult… Luckily for you, I happen to be a genius with a lot of friends in the computer programming field.” Your best friend explained cockily.

“Oh shit." You rubbed at your eyes before taking in the pile. "Find anything good?”

“Oh, yeah. Turns out you’re not the only one who thinks there is more to the zombie story. I found an archive of a forum of people like us sharing stories and conspiracies about the Great Outbreak and the government’s involvement in it.”

“Really? How have I never stumbled upon that before?” You pondered.

“That’s just it. It was an archive, meaning the forum doesn’t exist anymore, it was shut down. The whole site was shut down actually, seemingly out of nowhere. Unfortunately for whoever took it down, once someone takes a step onto the internet, there are always footprints left behind. Nothing is ever really gone forever.”

You let his words sink in, still on sleepy brain mode.

“So... do you think the government took the site down?”

Namjoon flashed you a look as if to say well, obviously.

“A lot of the thread was purely he said she said stuff, but I did find some compelling pieces of evidence. Most notably… this.”

Namjoon reached into the pile and pulled out an old copy of a newspaper, placing it on top for you to read. Printed on the first page was a picture of a family you didn’t know, consisting of a mother, a father, and two daughters. On top of the picture in all bold was the title, “FAMILY KILLED BY ZOMBIE DAUGHTER.”

You vaguely remembered hearing about this story on the news when you were younger. But even then, you hardly gave sensationalized news much thought.

“Anyway, the youngest daughter, Shelby, died some time ago from some form of cancer. There are records of her parents taking her in to get that sketchy ass drug if you remember–”

“Immortuos, of course.” You nodded.

“Yeah. Obviously, she ended up dying and coming back to life. However, instead of letting the DEAD Team take her into custody, her family somehow managed to sneak her out of the mortuary her body was being stored in.”

Your eyes grew in size, “Are you serious? Wait, how do you know this?”

Namjoon rummaged through the pile, pulling out a piece of paper before holding it out to you. You stared down at it.

“Is this… a credit card statement?”

“Shelby’s father’s credit card statement.”

You shifted back away from the paper, sitting up in your bed. You were looking at a dead man’s credit card history. Weird.

“How the literal hell did you even get your hands on this?”

“I have my ways.” Namjoon smirked. You nodded, impressed at just how much your best friend had gotten away with.

“Anyway, look at this. Five days before the entire family’s reported death, the father bought four plane tickets.”

Four plane tickets?

“Well, that doesn't make sense. If it was just the oldest sister and her parents, they would only need three.” Your brows furrowed.

“Right. But with Shelby alive again…” Namjoon hinted.

“Four tickets.” You marveled, finally understanding. “They were trying to run away.”

You shook your head, “But wait this newspaper says Shelby killed her family, right? So what really happened? Why didn’t the family make their flight?”

“So there’s speculation that the government heavily monitored the immediate family of the recently undead after their resurrection. People on the forum theorized that the government caught wind of the family’s plan and killed them off before they got the chance to flee. Clearly, they thought the family knew something they shouldn’t have otherwise they would have just taken the girl. I mean think about it, do you really think a six-year-old could overpower her sister and two adult parents? ‘Cause I don’t.”

You sat in silence for a second. It made sense. The zombie girl was already back with the family so it would be the perfect guise to fall back on: ‘Naive family takes back zombie child only to be eaten alive!’ That would certainly deter other families from trying to do the same.

A thought crossed you suddenly.

“Hey, this happened in our town. You have access to the hospital's morgue records… do you think there is any way–”

“One step ahead of you.” Namjoon interrupted, pulling out an aged manila envelope from the pile, the word confidential clearly stamped onto it.

You held Namjoon’s eyes in disbelief, wondering how the fuck you had befriended a master level criminal, before taking the envelope into your hands and prying it open. Inside were four sheets of paper. Copies of autopsy reports, with each respective family member’s name on it. Your stomach dropped as you let your eyes roll over them, realizing each sheet of paper had been signed off the same way:

Cause of Death: GUNSHOT TO HEAD

Manner of Death: MANDATED HOMICIDE

Police Notified: NO

"Mandated homicide– whoever executed their deaths was ordered to do so. And if the police weren't notified then..."

"Yeah." Namjoon confirmed grimly. A wave of nausea rolled over you suddenly.

“The family knew what we know. That not all zombies are dangerous.” You breathed, swallowing dryly. “And now... they're dead.”

Your apprehensive eyes met Namjoon's, the air thick with the feeling that you two had just stumbled upon something much bigger than yourselves– something you would not come out of unscathed.

[horrorstreet]

Soulmates Surprise

Request: BRAHMS ,,, i need ,., stinky wall boy thirst or ill combust please im begging you

Request sent in by: Anon

Summary: In a world where soulmates injuries appear on the others skin, you feel the pain of Brahms burn at a young age and live your life the best you can. When you get a nanny job at the Heelshire mansion, things take an unexpected turn and Brahms gets the biggest surprise of his life.

Brahms x reader

Warnings: Angst, burns, scars, blood, bullying.

Quick Note!: I had this sitting here for the longest time and didn’t feel great about it but I tried to make it better. So so so so so sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy!

Almost everyone is born with a soulmate. Some are born without that special connection to someone their souls are tied to. While most would say that it was a curse to not find the person who would bring you happiness, some would call it a blessing. It happened not too long ago that people began to receive soulmates and no one knew where this strange change was coming from. Scientists still scramble for a reason for what caused the strange connection that tethers two people together and it has yet to be discovered, remaining a mystery to all. In this world, when one is connected with a soulmate, any injury that their partner receives will appear on their soulmate's body and the pain carries along with it and there is no finding to prove a way to prevent this. On the bright side, when one finds their soulmate, all of those injuries and the pain that comes along with it disappear. Almost as if time erases the marks it has made on that person leaving them spotless.

You were born in perfect health, a happy baby, and your parents thought you were just precious. All was well and your parents were convinced you would live a happy and safe life up until your 8th birthday. You had been enjoying our 8th birthday, happy to be growing up and getting presents and eating cake when it took a turn for the worst. Little did you know that it would be the last day of your “normal” life. It wasn't long after you turned 8 that something felt strange to you. You were playing in your room with all of your new gifts and toys when you suddenly felt suffocated. The air you inhaled felt  thick and you began to cough. You had dropped everything you were holding to the floor, bringing your hands up to your neck and started coughing harder and harder trying to breath in the perfectly clean air around you. You parents ran into your room hearing your struggle and tried patting you on the back, not aware of what was going on. Your coughing started to mix with horrifying screams as you felt a serious burning cover your neck. It was the worst pain you had experienced so far in your life and the day your parents feared had finally come. Your hands desperately clawed at your own face, peeling off the skin which was seemingly melting away around your right eye while your parents tried to stop you from doing any further damage but it was too far gone to save any skin now. 

After the first wave of pain hit you, your parents rushed you to the hospital as fast as they could, not caring for anything else going on around them. It was common for a hospital to be full, soulmate injuries happening all the time. It was actually the most common place to meet your other half but this was not your case at all and wouldn't be for a very long time. Doctors and nurses rushed you into the emergency room, alerting the workers of what had happened to you and successfully catching the attention of everyone around you including waiting patients. When others around you had seen your melted face, many vomited right then and there while others shied away from the sight, close to adding to the mess of puke already on the floor. The nurses' faces went pale as they looked over your injury and you began screaming again, feeling a horrible pressure press up against your burn. Your soulmate must be trying to fix their own burn on their own because the pressure felt a lot like a small hand pressed up against the side of your face, making the burning sensation even worse. The nurses' eyes dripped with tears from the sight of the terribly injured child before them but quickly collected themselves like they were taught to and knew that they had to get themselves under control for your sake and to make you feel better and heal as fast as you could. You cried out for your parents as you were taken away by a doctor and her nurses around her. “Everything is going to be ok.” They promised you. “It will all be better soon.” But the scar the incident left behind would only bring you more pain than you ever would have expected. 

Upon waking up, you were unable to see out of your right eye and began to panic. “Mommy! Daddy! … Mommy!!” You screamed out, thrashing around in your hospital bed. Nurses quickly rushed into the room and held you down to prevent you from messing with your face for a second time, worrying that they were too late. Another ran in and stopped when she saw the heartbreaking scene and slowly walked over to you. “My dear, you are going to have to calm down. You are hurting yourself.” She instructed, taking your small hand in hers. “Mommy?” You hiccuped, your face wet with tears. “No, darling. They will be back soon.” She told you, giving you a sad smile. You took a small shaky breath, tears still falling down your face and nodded to her, curling your small hand into a fist in her hold, slowly pulling away. “Why can’t I see?” You whimpered, reaching a hand up to touch whatever was keeping you from seeing. “No,no! Don’t touch it! You have a wrap over your face to help you get better ok? You won’t be able to see for awhile.” She explained. “Oh…” Was all you could think to say and laid back down with your face pointed at the ceiling. A few of the nurses left your hospital room while others stayed to check your vitals which did startle you. Who were these people and where were your parents? All you wanted was your parents. 

It wasn’t until the next day did your wish come true. Your parents rushed into your room to see you and your mother crumbled into your father's side in tears. You recognize your father standing in the door and reached out for him. “Hello, princess …” He smiled at you, taking your hand. “Daddy!” You giggled, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through the injured half of your face. “Yes, hello! How are you feeling?” He asked you, gently brushing your hair out of your face. Your mother cleaned the tears off of her face and smiled at you, taking your other hand. “I can’t see.” You told them, looking over at your mother. “What?” You mom asked, her face dropping. “My eye is covered. They said it was going to make me feel better!” You happily explained to her with the part of your smile that wasn't covered. “Oh… dear, you frightened me …” She sighed, a hand resting on her chest. “I'm sorry, mommy.” You apologized, squeezing her hand. “Oh! Dear, no! You are perfectly fine!” She chuckled, running her thumb over your hand. Your smile returned to your face after hearing your mother's words and you told them about all of the nice nurses that had been helping you while they were gone. They were pleased to hear about how well things went and made sure to thank all nurses and doctors that helped their daughter recover. You went home with the bandage still on your face which meant you would need your parents help getting around and taking care of the injury but you weren't complaining. 

Your parents loving looks towards you never changed unlike those around you. As you healed, you were able to remove your bandage from off of your eye and you were absolutely happy to be able to see everything from your right eye again. Your skin felt like it was tugging at the side of your face and everything felt so rough to you. The first time you looked into the mirror after the incident, you almost didn’t recognize the reflection staring back at you. Your hair was untouched and so was your eye but the skin on the right half of your face was red and scarred and you feared yourself for the longest time. Your parents explained to you that nothing had changed about you as a person, your face just healed the best it could and tried its best to return to its original look. They made you feel proud of your appearance and body but others did the opposite. 

“Ew! What happened to your face!” They would point and laugh and grimace and when you tried to tell them what your parents had told you, they completely broke you apart. Unfortunately for them, you weren’t one to take insults like that. You shot back 10 times harder and let your young voice be heard. It happened all the time but you had already accepted yourself and what had happened so any negative comments people would throw your way would do absolutely nothing to you and only made you feel more and more confident in yourself. “They don’t know what it’s like and that’s ok. I am beautiful.” You encourage yourself with your head held high. 

_______

“Good luck and we love you.” Your mother sniffled. “Please, don’t cry, mother! I will be back soon. I will visit as much as I can.” You told her, taking her hands. “I know, I know. But you’re just so far away.” She wiped her tears away, reminding you of that day in the hospital. “You stay out of trouble, now.” Your father smiled, bringing you into a hug. “I can’t promise anything.” You chuckled. Your father shook his head and let you go and you took a deep breath. “Bye mom … dad.” You waved, trying your hardest not to cry. “Goodbye, dear. We love you.” Your mom waved back, standing at her husband's side. “I love you guys more. Goodbye.” Your mom shook her head and continued to wave as the car you got in drove off down the road, the figure of your parents getting smaller and smaller. 

When you were too far to see them anymore, you moved out of the window and sat down. “Quite the goodbye.” The driver said, looking at you through the mirror. “The hardest.” You replied, looking down at your bag. It was silent for a while till the driver spoke up but not without hesitation. “I know this may be rude …. But I was wondering what is on your face?” He asked, glancing at you through the mirror every other second, most likely examining your mask. You were silent, thinking of how to answer his question this time around when he spoke up. “I'm sorry… I shouldn’t have asked …” He apologized, scratching his stubble covered chin. “No, no. It’s ok. Uhm, when I was younger, I got a pretty nasty burn. It bothered people a lot so I figured I would wear a mask. Makes it easier for me and them.” You told him, reaching under your mask to itch your scars which he noticed. “Is it uncomfortable?” He asked again, not bothering to look back at you again. “Yeah,” You sighed. “It gets on my nerves a lot.” You said to him, pulling your mask back into place. “You don’t have to wear it here. I'm not one to judge.” He smiled. “Are you sure?” You asked, reaching up to take the mask off. He nodded his head and looked back at the road to focus on driving and you thanked him. You smiled and removed the mask from your face, undoing the straps and putting it in your bag. 

_______

“Here we are. You sure you don’t want me to drive you all the way up there?” He asked, turning around to look at you, not flinching away at your scar covered face at all. “I'm alright. Thank you so much. You really do have a kind soul, sir.” You said while pulling your bags out of the car. “Well, thank you too. And hey, as much as people might get in your hair because of the way you look, you keep moving forward. You're a strong kid. I can tell.” You nodded at him and waved goodbye as he drove off back to the main road. You walked through the large open gates and up the gravel path to the large house that awaited you. 

“Uhm …” 

Knock 

Knock

You hit the door with your knuckles and waited for someone to open the door. You jumped out of your skin when you heard the door open, its old hinges screeching against each other. “Hello?” You called out, walking through the door. “My name is (y/n). I'm the nanny?” You raised a brow and set your things down on the couch by the door and looked around. You wandered around the house, peeking into every room to get a feel for the place when you stumbled across a neat, typed out sheet of rules that sat right next to a porcelain doll.  “Brahms?” You picked the doll up and held it out in front of you, really questioning if this is what you came all this way for. “Oh my god. What did I just get myself into.” You mumbled to yourself. “Ms (L/n) I presume?” A voice greeted from behind you. You gasped and carefully laid the doll down on its side to turn around. An older lady stood at the bedroom door with a smile on her face, waiting for your reply. “Mrs. Heelshire. I am so, so sorry. The door just opened … on its own? So I walked in but no one was there.” You explained to her in a flustered manner. “No worries, it must have been Brahms that opened the door. I'm surprised he did that.” She gestured to the doll. You gave out a few laughs before looking at her face and realizing she was serious. You cleared your throat and looked down at your feet and back up to her. “I am glad you have already had the chance to meet and hold Brahms. He really does seem to like you.” Mrs. Heelshire shrugged. “Oh, yes. He is a very lovely boy.” You nodded which made her smile. “I'm glad to hear that. Me and my husband are leaving tonight so I figured I would explain everything to you before we left.” Mrs. Heelshire said while walking over to the doll and picking it up off of its side to sit it back up. 

_______

“Goodbye.” You closed the door behind the two and let out a long breath. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What the hell.” You panicked, looking around the large house. You were about to enter the kitchen when you heard a door slam shut, making you yelp. “Hello! Who’s there!” You shouted out, grabbing a large knife to protect yourself with. Another door slammed shut behind you making you scream and run up to your room with the knife held tightly in your right hand. “Brahms! If this is you!” You shakily called out to the boy. “Play with me.” A young boy's voice called out to you. The adrenaline racing throughout your body made your heart pump and brought tears to your eyes. “Ok. I'm coming.” You took a deep breath and put the knife down, making the decision to play it safe in case there were to be an actual child running around the long halls of the large mansion. You walked into Brahms’s bedroom and slowly walked over to the doll sitting on the bed. You looked around to see if there was an actual child hiding somewhere nearby but when you found nothing, you quickly looked back over to the doll. “You wanna play?” You asked the doll, picking it up and resting it on your hip. “Well, that isn’t on the list, so.” You scolded him, picking the paper up off the covers and reading over it. 

You started with his lessons, sitting him by you while you struggled to play the piano. After about an hour of that, you picked Brahms up and carried him to a large chair that you pulled in front of your own seat. You picked up a poem book and began to read to him loud and clear for as long as needed and played his music. You walked around the house with Brahms to clean the place up, dusting, wiping things down, sweeping and mopping everything you could while swaying to the sound of the song playing in the background. When the music stopped, you left Brahms to put everything away. When you came back, Brahms was no longer sitting where he once was and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. “Brahms?” You yelled, quickly walking all throughout the house trying to find where he went off too. “I'm sorry. I forgot about the rule to never leave you alone.” You apologized to him once you found him looking out the glass doors that lead to a balcony on the top floor. You picked him up and looked outside at the green trees surrounding the place. It was warm enough that you wouldn’t want to layer up during the daytime so you figured it would be nice to take him to the balcony. 

Lifting the latch to the door, you pulled them open to let in the fresh outside air. “Nice, isn’t it.” You smiled walking forward to lean on the railing with Brahms still in your arms but you weren't expecting the railing underneath you to be so weak and crumble apart when you put your weight on it and you fell forward. The broken stone stabbed into your stomach as you fell down to the ground, trying to curl your body to keep Brahms safe but you were too late in catching yourself and began to fall off of the balcony. You let out a very loud scream as you fell off the platform, throwing Brahms behind you so he didn’t fall down with you. You had thought that you had met your end until you felt a large hand grip the back of your shirt and prevent you from falling all the way to the ground from the top floor. The person behind you grabbed your leg and pulled you back onto the balcony, hugging you close. You were about to scream out for the stranger to let you go but felt a warm feeling flow throughout your body. Your burns marks began to disappear and the scratches and stab wound closed up and the dark blood that stained your clothing was the only proof left that it had actually happened. 

Brahms felt the change as well and let you go so he could back away to reach his hand under his mask to feel his face. It felt smooth under his touch for once and he was startled. What have you done? Where were his scars? He snapped his head up to look at you and you quickly stood up to run off. You didn’t catch him speed off until he was already through the doors, the doll in his hand. “Wait! Hold on!” You called after him, quickly getting up and pulling your mask off of your face to let it fall to the ground. You had abandoned it with the broken stones that made up the railing of the balcony and left the doors open as well. You sprinted after him, catching his sleeve in the process and pulled as hard as you could. Brahms stumbled back and wrapped his hand around your neck, lifting you up before slamming you into the ground. Your head collided with the hardwood floor of the house leaving you dizzy and causing Brahms to feel the same. He loosened his grip on your throat and waited for the throbbing in the back of his head to stop before looking back at you. When he felt his airway closing up as he held his large hand down on your throat, it finally hit him. “Soulmate.” A deeper voice whispered. His hand lifted off of your neck allowing you to take a deep breath of air and pulled you back into his lap. 

The doll was discarded by a decorative chair by the both of you and his new free hand came over to wrap itself around your body. He held you as close as he could, his mask getting in the way of him pressing his face into your hair. He removed his mask without a second thought and nuzzled his face into your neck. He had never felt this type of calm before. It was new to him and it made his heart beat fast and his skin tingle. You tried moving away from the man holding you but his grip on you only got tighter. He found his other half and there was no way he was letting you go now. “You’re my soulmate.” You whispered, trying to comprehend everything that was happening. You closed your eyes and leaned back into Brahms chest and felt a feeling that you had never felt before. 

Love

You felt at home in his arms. You didn’t care if it was in the snow, in the heat, or in the dirt. Wherever he was, was where your home would be. He felt the need to be closer to you than possible and just held you there, enjoying the time he was sharing with you. “(Y/n)...” The low voice spoke just above a whisper. Hearing him speak made you want to cry a river of tears of joy. His voice was like a sweet melody in your ears, so soft and soothing and you could listen to it all day long. You could listen to it for the rest of your life.

[sweeethinny]

sirius/hestia. sirius: "im always sad but when we talk im so happy"💖

ok anon, first thank you so much for the promtp, i love writing about Sirius and Hestia, and as I am re-watching That 70' Show, I realized that Hyde and Jackie remind me a lot of these two, so I was even more eager to write about

a thank you also to anon who sent me that he thought Hestia was one of those girls who wears everything pink, it helped me to write

hope you like it <3

Sirius thought that he didn't like loud girls, that he preferred quiet and less colorful, like he was, because that way things would combine better and they would understand each other better. He always thought that loud girls, loud laughs, super cheery, and pink lipsticks were for James, or even Peter, but that he and Remus were destined for girls like Evans; quiet, calm, that easily go unnoticed among the noisy ones.

He tried dating these, however, he really tried hard, went out on dates with them, and at first everything was happy and peaceful, and Sirius felt good. He might be a marauder who liked to play pranks and run away from the castle in his Animagus form, but he always thought the right person for him would be someone who would slow him down. But… the more time he spent with these girls – girls like Lily – the more he got bored.

Then he tried to go out with cheerful girls, the loudest of all, the ones like Marlene, who could be like a cat chasing its own tail, and at first they matched. They had more fun, they generally shared the same punk and rebellious style of being, and there wasn't much time to get bored like before. However, the more time passed, the more Sirius became exhausted.

He was about to throw the white flag, maybe love wasn't for him, his mother had once told him that, maybe she was right, Sirius would never find someone to share his life with. He was okay with it—at least he thought so.

But then during summer break, when James asked Lily out with them, she was there.

She was lively, even way too much at times, but at the same time she was quiet and calm, walking around in her yellow jumpsuit and white shirt that showed a strip of her belly, tanned skin and hair pulled back in a high ponytail and a white bow. While she got everyone's attention - Sirius could see how Peter looked when she sat next to him - she could still go unnoticed.

Hestia didn't talk much, she watched more, laughing here and there when Lily said something, looking intent on eating her pistachio ice cream without letting it melt. Sirius shouldn't be paying so much attention to her mouth. But the times she said something, she was funny, she made everyone laugh and look at her, a slight pinkish tinge to her cheeks that could have gone unnoticed.

The other times she'd gone out with them while on vacation, Sirius had noticed how…colorful she was. He didn't remember seeing her wearing a more basic outfit like Lily, or something full of glitter and leather like Marlene, Hestia always seemed to want to be a part of the rainbow, with striped, colorful, patterned clothes.. It was as if every day was summer for her.

When they first kissed, it also felt like endless summer, even though it was raining that day.

Sirius felt so fucking alive beside her, like a dog that has been given a new toy, while he also felt calm and peaceful, the perfect balance to survive.

When school came back, Hestia still managed to be colored even in her black uniform, wearing bows in her hair, putting on pink lipstick, wearing fun accessories - she had a plethora of different earrings, with pompoms, shaped like fruits, colored. Her parchments were decorated with drawings on the sides of the paper, her handwriting was adorable - Sirius never thought someone's handwriting could contain so much personality - and he grew more and more attached to her, unwilling to leave her side, a little intoxicated by her sweet perfume.

She had he in the palm of her hand, and Sirius didn't mind. Hestia seemed to know how to tame him in a way that no one else had – James' words – it was as if with just one look she could silence him, preventing him from getting into trouble. And he realized that the more time passed, the looser and less embarrassed she was beside him.

At the same time she made him slow down, Sirius made her walk faster. It was a good balance.

They got along pretty well, her family was fucked up too, and they shared similar fears.

Sirius was happy.

"I like you," he said, sitting on the floor of the greenhouse beside her, smiling in her direction. Even stoned, he still couldn't find her less beautiful, it was the opposite, however, it was as if his heart exploded even more with love. ‘I'm always sad but when we talk, I'm so happy’

"Don't be an idiot," She blushed, grinning widely and leaning toward him, pressing their lips together lovingly, just enjoying the moment. "I like you a lot too," Hestia whispered, her eyes closed, before leaning in again and actually kissing him, with all her will.

"You know, before her you were a morose and grumpy, now you're a happy guy, mate." James said patting his shoulder as he grinned.

"I wasn't that," Sirius defended himself, folding his robes and placing them on the nightstand beside the bed, slumping tiredly on the bed. Last night had been the last day of Full Moon, and he was more than eager to get more than three hours' sleep.

"Okay, not grum

py or morose, but pessimist," Remus muttered, hiding under the sheets. "She makes you less pessimistic, it's like she turns you into a hippie."

"Urg, I'm not a hippie," Sirius growled, covering himself completely.

''Course is. This week she even made you do your hair and shave. You are no longer the angry Sirius Black you were before, now you are Sirius Black peace and love.' Peter smiled.

He shook his head, sighing and closing his eyes, trying not to smile as the image of Hestia sitting on his lap flashed through his mind. Sirius wasn't complaining about this at the moment, he felt great with all that peace inside him, remembering how she stroked his hair during the break between history and transfiguration classes, letting him sleep in her lap.

[cuefog]

tog/khunbam fic rec

this is for @cannottranslate​ because you asked for it and i am grateful for the excuse to make a fic rec post

i expect this will be a long post so i’ll put it under read ↓ 

i’ll be leaving my own thoughts and comments under each fic (im sorry in advance for rambling too much)!! if you want the full summary and other info please click on the link provided lol

!!webtoon spoilers beware!!

♡ = one of my favourites

canon timeline

(these will be the ones that are set in the canon world and follow major plot events, even if there some changes in the details and relationships)

♡ deep sea blue by Feyren ♡

please read everything written by feyren!!!! lovely prose, wonderfully written khunbam emotional tension. khun braiding his beautiful hair accompanied by symbolism and perfectly crafted metaphor. bonus earrings.

♡ hollow moons by NoteInABottle ♡

please also read everything by noteinabottle!! equally lovely prose, wonderfully written khunbam emotional tension. khun wearing earrings and giving them to bam, accompanied by lots of symbolism and perfectly crafted metaphor. you could probably consider this a companion fic to feyren’s deep sea blue. both of these fics gave me a Thing for khun’s earrings (>_<;)``

take my hand (take my whole life too) by RadiantAshe

our dear ashe has written lots of great stuff but i think this is my favourite!! so much khunbam softness, very classic s3 vibes <33

Chestnuts at Nighttime by khunfounded (ongoing)

khun with a cat who loves him very much, and vice versa. that’s all the explanation you need. this fic overloads my heart with cute soft fluffy feelings!!! (bonus khun and bam dolls with little hands made of velcro so they can hold each other’s hands (ʘ‿ʘ✿) please i can’t take any more of this, somebody help my heart is gonna explode)

a thousand paths to you by LiannaAila

set during the time of khun’s coma. bam travels to a parallel universe and meets an alive and awake khun. this fic is exactly what it says it is and it’s so lovely <3

oh no he’s hot (and other earth-shattering revelations) by Bird_of_Dreams

tldr; bam being thirsty over khun

khun aguero agnis and his growing competency kink by chuuyaya

tldr; khun being thirsty over bam

motion by smokeandwaves (rated Explicit)

set during hell train, khunbam focused. this one is really popular in the fandom!! it’s well written, and if you consider smut a genre i would say this is the best one in the tog tag. lots of emotions, and a wonderful flow of feeling!! also it has a few sequel fics in the series, ‘obedience’ in particular being all about sub!khun,, which is,, (*ﾉωﾉ)

sometimes when i look into your eyes i pretend you're mine by agueros (minamis)

residents of the tower ship jue viole grace and khun aguero agnis and write fanfiction about them (i love these types of fics lmao)

From: Khun by AngrySheepProject  and To you who lies with my heart under the sea by Strawbellie666 (ongoing)

khun messaging bam’s pocket when he thought he was dead in s2

canon divergence + future canonverse

(future fics means it’s set in the future of the current canon, which at the nest arc rn)

♡ A World Without You by Breaking_Formation ♡

this one might be my favourite out of all of them. i know it says major character death but it happens in the beginning and there’s a promised happy ending so don’t worry!!! this one is a beautiful 20k word masterpiece.... seriously..... this fic is set after the nest arc, it has lots of Plot and plays around with the world and the lore of the Tower, so it’s already fascinating that way, but the real heart of the story is in the emotions!! if you love witnessing khun’s endless devotion to bam, this is the fic that shows you that devotion reflected right back at khun. it might bring you to tears :’)

♡ Our Hearts Are Made of Stars by Ruinous ♡ (ongoing)

out of the 5 or so other time travel au fics in the tog fandom, this one is definitely my favourite!! time travel aus are all super fun to read, but this one stood out to me especially because it hits all the right spots!! it’s written well and i love the level of foresight, and the emotions detailed into this, it really feels like the friendships and bonds are at the heart of this story and all the fighting stuff will turn out just fine, and everything will be ok :)

♡ enough by Feyren ♡

future fic, set in a cocktail party on the 87th floor. this is so well written!!!!! again, please just read everything written by feyren. the prose is wonderful and everything going on in this fic feels so well-crafted and carefully executed with just the right amount of subtlety in all the emotions. i think it’s gorgeous.

fire and ice by soundscape (ongoing)

set vaguely in the future. still ongoing, and the story feels like it’s just started, but very intriguing plot!! premise is people trying to separate khun from bam + the team trying to deal with shady fug plots

dig down deep by milkywxy (ongoing)

this one is a plotty one!! diverges from canon at the hidden floor arc. bam decides not to let rachel go with them. im super interested to see where this story goes!!

where the current leaves us by macrauchenia (ongoing)

this one is a Plotty one, still in the early stages of plot development but the premise is super interesting!! basically khun takes bam’s place in the bubble with rachel, during the administrator’s test on the 2nd floor. i’m excited to see where this story goes :D

special mentions for “bam climbs the tower” remix concept fics that you might like to check out (this is for you dango, since you said you like togverse canon divergence :D)

Moonlight by Shadow_to_rant (ongoing, khun meets bam in cave instead of rachel)

Timeless Existence by Jazebeth (Barrattiel) (ongoing, time travel au series)

Second Chance by Shadow_to_rant (ongoing, time travel au)

Never Let You Go by eternus (ongoing, time travel au)

Il Principe by euludey (ongoing, bam with different backstory/origins)

Night Never Falls by TripleTurtles (ongoing, au where rachel doesn’t succeed at pushing bam off the bubble on the 2nd floor)

Child of Arlene by MoodleNoodle (ongoing, bam is adopted by jahad before canon timeline)

au

♡ the king and his lionheart by chuuyaya ♡

khunbam royalty au with bam as king, khun as a genius war strategist. bonus pda in front of a whole courtroom. what more could you want?? this was soooo satisfying to read, i enjoyed it a lot :D (please also check out chuuyaya’s other fics if you like khunbam aus!!)

if there's anything in this life ive been waiting for (its you) by trueaguero (ongoing)

fascinating au where everyone is outside the tower and the tower is part of history. perhaps you could call this a “post-tower au” ?

if my heart was a house by The_Winged_Warrior

very cute magical fantasy au!! khun runs a potion shop and bam is an adventurer

aus are pretty self explanatory so i’ll put the rest in a list:

you are the magic in me by silverinerivers (ongoing, hogwarts au)

hope and legacy by chuuyaya (figure skating au)

♡ jump then fall (i'll catch you) by agueros (minamis) ♡ (figure skating au, consider it a prequel to ‘hope and legacy’, this is a beautiful 13k-word love letter to figure skating <3)

of social media and turtles by chuuyaya (celeb au with social media bits)

i am the last olympian by argenteas (percy jackson au)

who else is there to love but you? by khuns (college au, very soft pining!!)

Lucky coin by bothersomepotato (ongoing, college business majors au)

Greedy Turtles by Alien_ships (ongoing, on the surface it seems like just a pet shop au but there’s a lot of care and attention paid to the characters and relationship dynamics :D)

and i will come to you at every first snow by aguerobaam (khun is a magical doll in a toy store)

the heart heist by paused (ongoing, cyberpunk au)

khun special category

(it’s all about khun here)

♡ all the blue in the world won’t do, without you by NoteInABottle ♡ (ongoing)

multichapter fic set on khun eduan’s 111th floor!! if you’re too impatient to wait for the khun family arc, you should just read this fic. it’s still ongoing as of the time i made this post but it’s already looking to have all the elements i want out of a khun family arc. it’s written so so well too!! noteinabottle is one of my favourite tog authors :D

Brothers and sisters, I'm an atomic bomb by gleek_runner (ongoing series)

a wonderfully well written series of fics focusing on interactions between members of the khun family!!!! im just a sucker for the khun kids and im always starving for khun family content

He Wonders if He Still Breathes by Chocolatesandblood

khun and ran interactions!!

putting his resolve to the test. by soundscape

khun and hachuling interactions!!

Autumn Angel by XprincessxofxspadesX

khunbam meets maria and a series of complicated and fascinating interactions occurs. this was very nice to read ;w;

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track three

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Indiana was sure she’d never had a longer Monday in her life, and Tuesday wasn’t looking any better. Her lecture droned on and she did everything she could to stay engaged, from downing the rest of her water bottle to doodling on the side of her notes. 

Just as her professor started to move into the brachial plexus, she saw a small message notification appear in the top right corner of her laptop screen. A text, from Grayson.

Wyd? :)

It took all her power not to scoff in the middle of the room. The fact that he’d actually sent her a ‘wyd’ was almost too much.

learning, what’s it to yah

She scrolled to catch up with her professor, trying to keep up.

I’m bored

You want a vanilla oatmilk latte later, right?

Or did I not remember that right

Triple texter, of course. She typed out a quick shhh, unless you can teach me about the brachial plexus I gotta pay attention. I’ll text you when I’m out and turned back to her notes, scribbling out the diagram that her professor was drawing on the board.

But she still smiled when she got a p sure you just made that up but okay :) from him. 

Lecture sped up after that, her professor moving much too quickly through the nerves and innervations of muscles within the plexus that she could barely wrap her head around. She was going to have to review all of it again to even begin to fully understand. At least it wasn’t chemistry like it had been last semester - anatomy she could handle because at least it was interesting. Before she knew it she was closing her notebook and laptop, throwing them in her bag and heading out the door in a bid to get to the hospital faster. 

Little did she know, Grayson was waiting in line at Jet’s already, having come to the city much earlier than he needed to, toe of his Air Force One tapping on the tile as his nerves ran wild. He caught his reflection in one of the windows and paused to double check himself, just like he had that afternoon in his mom’s hallway, looking in the mirror that was hanging on the wall. Ethan had caught him in the act, and he knew it wouldn’t slip past him. 

“Alright, spill. You’re being sus.” Ethan’s words were garbled by the PB&J  in his mouth, but it still made Grayson panic a bit.

“Am not.”

“Cut the shit Gray, you only wear belts when you’re trying to impress somebody and I highly doubt you’re trying to woo over the kids. What’s her name?”

“I hate you.” 

“Interesting name.” That earned him a middle finger.

“Indiana.”

“Actual interesting name. She cute?”

“Very. And smart. And funny too. Good with kids.”

“And tick tick tick go the soulmate boxes. You gonna try to make a move?”

“We’ve talked one time bro. That’d be bold.”

“Yeah, and you’re you.You fall in love when somebody blinks at you right. Case made. Let me know when the wedding is.”

Grayson didn’t have a comeback for that, so he just huffed a bit and let out a “fuck off” before he turned to head for city an hour before he needed to. 

“Next… Next.” 

He pulled his head up, realizing the line had disappeared in front of him. He moved up to the counter, hoping he’d remembered her order right since she’d yet to answer him again.

“Can I do a large dark roast, and a large vanilla oatmilk latte please?”

Down the line, a man with an impressive beard and large gauges perked up as Grayson put his card into the reader. 

“Wouldn’t happen to be for Indiana Cross would it?” 

He wasn’t sure what the right answer was, so he just went with the truth. “Yeah, actually it is.”

Based on the way that the man squinted his eyes at him, Grayson realized it was apparently very much the wrong answer. 

“And you are?” He asked.

“Grayson.”

“Grayson.” He repeated, obviously waiting for an elaboration.

“I uh… I volunteer with her at the hospital?”

Right answer. The man relaxed, going back to making coffee with a nod. He tried to run through the possibilities while he waited for the drinks. Brother? Probably not. Ex-boyfriend? Possibly. 

“She’s a good egg, used to work here before school got to be too much. You’re lucky to have a friend like her,” he said after passing over the drinks. 

Protective manager. Not what he expected, but he understood. He had a feeling it wasn’t just him who had gotten attached so quickly.

“Yeah, yeah I am for sure. Thanks, have a great day.”

“You too…” he trailed off, waiting. He didn’t know if he’d forgotten his name already or just didn’t want to admit he remembered it.  

“Grayson.”

“Right. I’m Patrick. See you around.” 

“Yeah man, see you.” 

Grayson headed out the door, balancing one cup on top of the other so he could text her quickly. 

You at the hosp yet?

no, I’m not at the ‘hosp’ haha I’m walking there now

You didn’t text me when you got out of class

I’m hurt

boo hoo

:(

Lemme just 

Throw this coffee away real quick

hey hey now those are fighting words

oh shit I never texted you about the coffee, but you were right, vanilla oatmilk latte

I’ll give you a pass this time since you were learning about the brachial whatever

You’re lucky im awesome and remembered

wow

the most awesome

love to see it

just wait outside of jets, I’ll be there in a minute

Okay :)

He did as she asked, moving out of the steady stream of people that were on the sidewalk to watch people who passed, waiting for her. Every time he saw a head of blonde hair he perked up, until finally he recognized her moving towards him. She was dressed more casually than on Sunday, with a baggy crewneck on with her jeans and Air Force Ones. 

She noticed him a moment after he saw her, so by the time she laid eyes on him he was beaming, putting his phone away and moving towards her. 

“A large? You spoil me,” she teased, taking the cup from him gratefully. It was delicious as always, but she was more focused on his outfit – a tight black long sleeve shirt tucked into a pair of nice maroon pants, a large belt buckle resting on his waist. 

“We match,” he grinned, pointing a toe out to show off his shoes. It was about the only thing that matched – she felt frumpy next to him in her comfy clothes that she wore to class. Even her Air Forces were dingy compared to his, dull and dirty.

“Uh huh, right. I didn’t know that our first joint Buddies meeting was a fashion show, give a girl some warning next time, will yah?” 

“Oh shut up, you look cute.” 

Her eyebrows went up as she looked down at herself, then back at him. He threw her back the same look of disbelief.

“Did I stutter?” He asked, practically daring her to argue with him. She just blushed and shook her head, taking a drink of her coffee as they started towards Frazier. They walked shoulder to shoulder and Indiana was grateful – it was fractionally less common in the colder months, but she always got her fair share of cat calls on the streets. After getting to know him, she didn’t find Grayson even slightly intimidating anymore, but she still had the image of him on that bench, broad and serious, and she knew it was no coincidence that everyone fell silent with him beside her. 

It was a new feeling, having to hold herself back. She’d never had the urge to wrap her arms around someone walking next to her, reach out and hold onto their arm, even just reach down to hold their hand. It made her giddy and skeptical at the same time as she tried to distract herself, watching the cars drive by, honking at each other. 

“Where’d you go?” Grayson hummed, bumping her just barely and pulling her out of her head. Her heart swelled a bit hearing her signature phrase fall so easily from his lips, which seemed much pinker than she’d last remembered as he took a sip of his coffee and waited for her answer. A few moments later he quirked an eyebrow – a very well-manicured eyebrow. Did he get those waxed? She resisted the urge to reach up and smooth down her own that she knew were bushy and definitely not as nice as his.

“Indiana. You good?” He tried again, 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah I’m good, sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I was just checkin on you. Do we have a plan for this meeting or do you normally just go with the flow?”

“Depends on the mood she’s in. I’ve got some stuff in my bag – cards, my school stuff cause she likes to help me study sometimes. Other times she just likes to play 20 questions or hang out and talk. You’ll be the new shiny toy, so prepare for a bunch of questions. Especially about your teeth earrings.” 

He balked as they got to the doors, following her quick steps into the lobby.

“I’m sorry my what?” 

“It’s not everyday someone has diamonds in their teeth sir.”

“Okay but they aren’t teeth earrings, give me some fucking credit.”

“Definitely teeth earrings.”

“Jewels.”

“Teeth. Earrings. Oh my god, I’m gonna introduce you as teeth earring guy.” Her laughter filled the elevator as they stepped in.

“Oh god,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the side of the little box as it moved up to the second floor. Indiana gave her most mischievous grin when the doors opened, walking quickly through the halls. It took Grayson a minute to realize that she was trying to beat him to Bekah’s room and he sped up his steps, trying to keep it casual as he passed rooms of kids and families, walking as fast as he could without full on running down the hall. They didn’t see the nurses laughing at their antics, but they didn’t care. Indiana side stepped into Bekah’s room abruptly, so fast that Grayson almost knocked her over trying to stop behind her. 

Bekah was up walking around in a hoodie and leggings, and when she turned she immediately pointed over Indiana’s shoulder.

“Teeth earring guy!” 

They couldn’t help it – they both busted out laughing, Indiana grabbing onto his shoulder to keep herself from falling over. When they finally got it together he spoke up first.

“My name is actually Grayson, but you can call me teeth earring guy if you wanna.”

“I’m Bekah Newcomb. Mandatory intro spiel, I’m 15, stage 3 leukemia. My parents aren’t pieces of shit, they just work a lot so they’re never here. No siblings because why mess with perfection. Any questions?” 

Indiana bit her tongue – she had forgotten about the spiel, forgotten that it was Bekah’s favorite way to test new people, make them uncomfortable. Her eyes flickered over to Grayson, but he had the biggest smile on his face.

“Only one, but it’s very important. You ready?”

“Hit me with it,” she said, anxiously waiting. 

“Is cereal a soup?” 

Indiana couldn’t have planned a better intro for the two of them – they bonded so quickly right there before her eyes, debating the constituting factors of soup, and it had her melting to see him interacting so easily with the girl who meant so much to her. Bekah didn’t even attempt to put up her usual front, just laughed and joked with him as if she’d known him for years. The hours flew by, games of war and BS passing the time as Bekah sat at the top of her bed and Indiana and Grayson sat at the end of it, knees touching as they resisted the urge to peek at each-others cards. 

The only hiccup came when Bekah got her meds at 7, but she put on her best show for Grayson, managing to keep her stomach settled enough to avoid puking. It was the most fun visit either of them had had in a while, and Bekah fought her drowsiness until visiting hours were over at 8. Indiana had to be the voice of reason, starting the goodbyes before the nurses came to kick them out.

“Are you both coming back on Thursday?” Bekah called out as they headed for the door. 

“Hell yeah we are. Want us to bring anything?” Grayson grinned.

Indiana liked the sound of us.

“Cereal, so we can test our theories.” 

“You got it. See yah Thursday Beks.”

“See yah Thursday, Earrings.” 

His laugh was so loud that the nurses at the desk peeked their heads around to see what was happening – but they were smiling up at the two of them as they signed out and started down the hallway they’d come up. 

As soon as they cleared the ocean hallway, Grayson turned to her.

“Was that okay? Like was that good?” There was genuine concern in his voice, and Indiana had to bite back a laugh. 

“Are you seriously asking?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am.”

“Grayson she loved it. She loved you. I haven’t seen her smile that big since she’s come in for this round of treatment. Were you worried about that?” She didn’t stop herself from reaching out and holding onto his shoulder, squeezing lightly as they stopped walking. 

“A little,” he admitted, relaxing under her touch.

“You’re a natural, I told you that. I promise you did great, I wouldn’t bullshit you.” 

He stopped walking for a minute, and there was an intensity in his gaze that had her stomach fluttering.

She didn’t know what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t for him to say “Can I take you to dinner?”

“Now?” Stupid answer.

“Well, it is dinner time. But if you aren’t hungry I could wait a while. Or if you don’t want to go, that’s totally okay, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything just cause we’re doing this together and we share a buddy and-”

“I want to go to dinner,” she cut him off, and he could see the hesitation on her face.

“I sense a but coming…”

“But -”

His heart sank a bit - he’d fallen into the trap he always managed to get himself into, falling too quickly, making his move too fast. But it was natural to be next to her, to talk to her, to have her hand stay on his shoulder. He liked the feeling of her there, the sound of her laughter and the brightness of her smile, and he couldn’t quite hold himself back it seemed. It made the rejection he knew he was about to get hurt even worse. 

“But, I have to study tonight,” she sighed, and there was a genuineness to it that had him breathing a bit easier. She actually seemed disappointed, and the hope he felt rose up again.

“Oh yeah, the biceps whatever thing, that shit sounded complicated.”

“The brachial plexus, but A for effort,” she teased. “No but seriously, I gotta get that shit down or I’m gonna forget everything she said about it today. But I really do wanna go to dinner, I’m not blowing you off.” She rushed through her reassurances, dropping her arm and starting to walk again, towards the stairs this time.

“I believe you. How about Thursday, after we hang with Beks?” 

“Yeah, I can do Thursday!”

“Gang.” Fuck. He’d been doing pretty well at hiding all the slang he’d picked up in LA.

“Did you… what?”

“Nothing, pretend you didn’t hear that. Thursday sounds great. Oh, before I forget, can you bring some non-dairy milk with you when you come?”

She paused for a minute, looking up at him from a few stairs below like he’d grown another head.

“You want me to bring milk… non-dairy milk… to dinner.”

“No! No no, for the cereal! I just have a long drive and I don’t want it to get all gross and hot on the way, and since you walked I figure you live close by. I can venmo you for it.”

“Oh! Yeah, I can bring some, you don’t have to venmo me for it, no biggie.”

“Okay cool. Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t ask you to bring milk on a da- to dinner. Bring it to dinner. That would be… weird.” His cheeks burned hotter than he realized they could. The fact that he’d almost slipped and said date had embarrassment and panic coursing through every inch of his body, and he could already hear the way Ethan was going to laugh when he told him the story later. 

Of course Indiana heard it, but the way he was blushing to his ears had her pretending she didn’t.

“Thursday it is then,” she grinned, opening the door of the stairwell and holding it until Grayson passed through. The massive windows of the lobby were painted indigo, washed out a bit by the city lights but dark nonetheless. 

“Damn it’s dark,” he muttered. Even though it was beginning to get dark earlier now with autumn on the horizon, it was still much dimmer than he was used to.

“It’s supposed to storm the rest of the week, probably just the clouds,” she shrugged. She looked small for the first time to him, headed towards the doors.

“Can I drive you home? It’s really dark out.” The words came out before he could think them over - that seemed to be the effect she had on him. 

“Oh, it’s okay! I only live like three blocks from here, by the time you get your car I’ll probably be home,” she reassured him with a smile.

“Can I walk you then? I don’t like the idea of you walking out there in the dark by yourself.”

She paused at the door, and he half expected her to turn and remind him that she was very much capable of walking herself. But she surprised him, as she always seemed to do.

“Yeah, yeah that would be really nice actually. If you don’t care.” 

“No, I’d love to. You ready?”

She nodded and pushed the doors open, hair blowing back in the wind as she walked outside. The temperature had dropped significantly, the true sign of a storm coming through just as she’d suggested.

He took his spot beside her, shortening his strides so he didn’t stray too far from her, standing tall and broad. Indiana felt small next to him, but in a good way for once. It was even more comforting than earlier, and she took slower steps than she usually did, trying to draw it out as long as possible. She tried to convince herself it was because she wanted to procrastinate studying, didn’t want to have to tackle her notes, but in reality she knew it was because she didn’t want the night to end. 

It was a comfortable kind of quiet, the bustle of the city streets creating the perfect background noise as they weaved down the sidewalks. Indiana felt like if anyone looked at them they’d be able to see the little bubble of nervous energy surrounding the two of them - it had her feeling like she was back in middle school, giddy because the cute boy looked at her for two seconds.

Much too quickly, her apartment building appeared, tall and imposing in the dark.

“This is me.”

“Damn, that really was a short walk.”

For once, she wished it had been longer.

“Thanks again for walking me.”

“Yeah, yeah no problem, anytime. Um… have a good night.” He could hear the awkwardness in his tone, felt like it was palpable in the city air.

“Goodnight Grayson. Drive safe.”

“Goodnight Indiana. Sleep safe.”

That earned him his new favorite smile, but only for a moment before she disappeared into the lobby.

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

 “Bro, will you fucking focus?” 

There were few things that annoyed Grayson more than his brother taking too long to finish his reps on the equipment, but that day he’d become his own pet peeve. In his head, distracted, constantly checking his phone - and Ethan was beyond annoyed.

“Alright, out with it. The fuck is goin on in there?” Ethan smacked Grayson’s head lightly, concern starting to overpower the annoyance. 

“It’s nothing, let’s just finish this shit before it rains again,” he huffed, moving to the single pull up bar that he’d built last year and starting his reps. The sky was a dreary gray, the cold of autumn starting to come in and clinging to everything it touched.

It wasn’t nothing. Actually, it was much much more than that, and Ethan knew it too, but he didn’t pry. Yet. He did his best to keep his brother focused for the rest of their Wednesday work out, encouraging him to get more reps, to push a bit harder. It didn’t seem to clear his head at all, and Ethan held his tongue for a few more hours, waited until they were both showered, in fresh clothes and in the kitchen making lunch for him to finally ask again.

“Is it the girl? Indiana?”

Grayson didn’t answer, but the look that he threw Ethan from his spot in front of the stove told him enough.

“What’d she say? Lemme see.” 

He passed his phone over, moving back to stir soup he was making as Ethan read the message. Grayson remembered exactly what it said, even if his twin didn’t mumble it out as he read.

“Hey, about dinner tomorrow. Turns out my sister and brother in law are moving out of my place (finally) because Charlie got a new photography deal and I promised I would help them move :( but we could do dinner on Saturday night if that works for you still? If not it’s okay. What’s wrong with that?” Ethan asked.

“She doesn’t wanna have dinner,” Grayson muttered, watching the soup spin in the pot as he stirred.

“That is so not what that means. Is this seriously what you’ve been pouting about all morning?” Ethan had to bite back his laugh. He hadn’t seen his brother this in his head about something in a while, and he didn’t want to make him feel stupid for being worried. “If she didn’t want to have dinner, she wouldn’t have asked about Saturday.” 

“How do you know? You haven’t even met her.” 

“Cause I’ve had a girlfriend for two years. You just learn what they mean in their texts even if they don’t say it.” 

The last thing Grayson needed in that moment was a reminder that his brother was in a very loving relationship, but he let it slide. Eden had come into their lives a few years back, a fireball of take-no-shit and feminine power unlike either of them had ever seen. It was a learning curve, and Ethan was determined to ace the test. Grayson was glad that he had - she’d become a sister to him, and she brought fun and laughter to their life out in California. 

“Call Eden, see what she thinks,” Grayson said, scooping soup out into bowls for the two of them. Ethan did as he asked, pulling up facetime and letting it ring through until she appeared on the screen, wide smile bright against her tanned skin, California sun bright in the background. 

“Hey baby! What’s up?”

“Grayson’s having girl problems.”

“Oooo I love girl problems, hand him over,” she teased, still beaming when Ethan passed over his phone. 

“Alright hit me with it, what’s the tea?” 

Grayson tried to give her the short version of how he and Indiana had met, but he found himself elaborating with each detail that he remembered, from every word of the text down to the way she said goodbye the last time he’d seen her, only the night before. It felt like longer than that. 

Eden was quiet for a moment after he finally finished the story, but by her coy smile he knew she was just trying to figure out how to word everything correctly. 

“Okay, so first off, just to clear things up, she’s not blowing you off.”

He wanted to believe her, desperately, but the doubt must have still been obvious on his face, because she rolled her eyes before she launched into her explanation.

“She texted you today instead of tomorrow, which probably means as soon as she found out she told you. That’s a good sign. She’s nervous too, that’s why she said ‘if not it’s okay’, cause she’s trying to give you an out if you want it.”

He very much didn’t want an out. He actually wanted an in.

“The fact that she reached out at all shows that she cares, and she’s trying to set up another time which definitely means she’s interested. Most girls would just wait to see if you would set up another one, that’s what I would have done. Tested to see if you were invested. But if she’s willing to do it, that means she must be pretty sure of you. Or totally oblivious to the fact that you like her. Either way, you’re in good shape.” 

“Who said I like her?” He muttered, getting a barking laugh out of both members of his audience.

He let them fall into conversation without him, the quick catch up of their day that they’d been doing lately since they were on opposite sides of the country. It was hard for Ethan, but he managed it well, with plenty of sappy texts and nightly facetimes that would have Grayson gagging but secretly wishing he had someone to talk to like that.

He wondered what Indiana was like on facetime while he ate his soup. He wondered what her favorite color was, why she took oatmilk in her coffee instead of regular, what her class schedule was. Wondered what time she woke up on the mornings when she could sleep in, what she’d want to do on a real date, what her room looked like. He never realized how much mental space he had for someone other than himself or Ethan, and he found himself obsessing the smallest things, trying to ignore the butterflies it brought to his stomach.

Ethan didn’t help once he finished his call and started devouring his luke-warm bowl of veggie soup.

“Bro you’re in deep, I can tell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this attached this quick before.” 

“There’s just something about her dude. It’s scaring me a little honestly. I’ve never felt like this about anybody, and I’ve literally only seen her twice. I mean, I barely even know her, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Is that weird?” 

Ethan thought of about twenty comebacks that he could have used, but he bit them back. He could feel his twin’s anxiety, and he wasn’t about to add to it.

“Nah man. It’s not weird. It’s intense, but it’s not weird. And hey, if she ends up being the one someday it’ll make a cute story. You hear all sorts of people say they fell in love the first time they saw their person, who says that couldn’t be you, yah know? But hey, I gotta meet her before you go proposing or some shit.” He bumped his shoulder with a smile, turning back to his bowl of soup so Grayson didn’t feel like he had to respond right away.

He thought on it for a minute, trying to process everything his brother had just laid out on the table. And then he pulled his phone out, clicked on his new favorite thread to check, and typed out his reply.

Saturday date it is

See you tomorrow :)

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

Indiana Cross was never late. In fact, she was usually a minimum 10 of minutes early. But one too many outfits changes had slowed her down and she was cutting it too close for comfort - so close that when she looked out and saw the rain had started up again, she contemplated just running out into it and getting drenched instead of trying to make it back upstairs to get her umbrella. 

She peered out into the street through the lobby doors, trying to decide if the drops would be enough to ruin her outfit, when something caught her eye. 

A hand, waving quite cutely at her through the glass. 

Grayson was outside, massive black umbrella over his head and a wide smile on his face as he walked up to the doors, waiting for her. He hadn’t said anything about coming to pick her up, but her heart fluttered at the sight of him anyways - she’d seen him just a few days ago, on Thursday, where they’d sat on Bekah’s bed again and ate cereal and laughed and joked. But it felt like it had been forever, and with the added stress of moving Charlie and Devin out, and the hard goodbye that she didn’t want to admit was hard, she hadn’t really relaxed since she’d last seen him. 

He made sure there wasn’t a gap between the awning and his umbrella so she could duck under it without getting wet. As soon as she was under she made her move, if you could even call it that, and wrapped her hands around his bicep, trying not to gawk at how big it was. Instead, she looked up at him and scrunched her nose.

“Hi.”

“Hi there,” he beamed, and she could see the excitement in every single one of his features. “Figured I could walk you. You ready?”

She nodded, holding on to him as they started to walk down the sidewalks. His slow Jersey pace mixed with her short legs and quick New Yorker steps kept them perfectly in sync as they dodged puddles and soaked up the feeling of being together again. 

The conversation flowed as easily as ever, Grayson asking her how moving Charlie out went, if she was sad to have her sister so far away. They talked about Cameron going to school in South Carolina, and how he and Ethan couldn’t spend more than a week apart without going crazy. She talked about school, the assignments she had lined up for the week, the exam she had already started studying for even though it was next Friday. Every time they got to a puddle that was too big for both of them to walk around he guided her to the dry part, walking lightly through the water so he didn’t splash her. 

They got to the hospital much too quickly, and she let go of his arm reluctantly so he could pull the umbrella down and shake off the excess water before they made it in. Grayson led the way up the stairs and onto the unit, waving at the kids he saw, giving Andre a high five as he passed and asking the nurses how their shift was going. Indiana couldn’t help but notice the way the younger nurses - actually, all the nurses, seemed to be watching his every move, blushing and smiling at him as he passed.

She fought the urge to reach out and hold his hand, walking just a bit closer to him so their arms brushed against each other as they moved. It sent electricity through every nerve ending on her body, and she got so caught up in it that she almost forgot to stop him before they made it to Bekah’s room.

“Hey, one thing. I know we’re going on a date later, but let’s not have any… like us stuff, while we’re here. I don’t want Bekah to feel like a third wheel or anything, cause we’re here for her. Deal?” 

“Deal.” There was a prideful look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but she didn’t have time to analyze it before she stepped into the room. 

Bekah was in her bed, curled up under the blankets on her side. Her head was wrapped in a light blue scarf - something her mom had brought her a few days prior, sweatshirts pulled down over her hands as she shivered. 

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he froze at his spot by the curtain. She looked sick, actually sick, for the first time, and it brought on a wave of memories and emotion that he wasn’t quite prepared for.

Indiana didn’t blink. 

“Hey you. How are you feeling?” Her tone was soft, soothing as she moved to her bedside and laid a hand on Bekah’s shoulder, starting to rub against her cold skin.

“S’ cold,” Bekah mumbled, burrowing down further, so far that Indiana could only see her brown eyes and the dark skin of her forehead.

“Want me to go see if I can get you another blanket?”

She nodded weakly, resting her head back on the pillow as Indiana stood up and moved over to Grayson.

“You okay in here by yourself for a minute?”

Grayson nodded, half to answer and half to convince himself. She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she disappeared out the door. He stood there in silence for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets, unsure of what to do.

Bekah peaked her head out just enough for her mouth to be visible before she spoke. 

“I’m not contagious, Earrings, you can come over here.”

The tension in his shoulders released and he walked over, sitting down as gently as he could on the edge of the bed.

“You’re weird,” Bekah said, eyes still closed. He panicked a bit, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Yeah? Why am I weird.”

“You don’t like being around sick people, but you’re volunteering at a kids hospital. Weird.” 

“I don’t think anyone likes seeing people sick,” he murmured, trying to word everything very carefully.

“Indiana likes being around sick people because she likes to help. I think you like to help too but it makes you uncomfortable.”

There was no malice in her tone, but it still made him let out a dry laugh.

“You’re an observant one, aren’t you.” 

“Not much else for me to do in here but watch people. But seriously, why’d you sign up to make yourself uncomfortable? Did someone tell you to?”

“Yeah, kinda. Someone told me if I could help that I should.”

“Your mom?”

“My dad actually,” he corrected quietly, toying with his fingers. Anytime he said his name out loud, no matter the form it took - dad, father, Sean - it was like he could feel it in his heart, a little tug on the original wound, a finger picking at a scab that wasn’t quite formed yet. 

“I’ll have to thank him for that some time. I like having you around, no matter how awkward you are.”

“Well thanks Beks.”

He was saved from his devolving thoughts by a very excited Indiana coming back into the room with not one, but three blankets stacked in her arms. 

“I declare it movie night,” she said, passing both of them their own blanket and rummaging for a remote, pulling up Emperor's New Groove before settling down into a chair on the other side of the bed. Grayson pulled one up so he could sit back, and without the distraction of conversation Bekah was out within the first 15 minutes, breaths deep despite the winces that she couldn’t hide. Indiana just ran a comforting hand over her arm until she lulled down further, tired muscles finally relaxing.

“She’s gonna be out the rest of the night, we might as well let her rest. You ready to go?” She asked after another twenty minutes, a bit of excitement returning to her eyes. 

He nodded, moving to fix Bekah’s blanket over top of her one last time before he clicked the TV off and left her to sleep. 

As soon as they signed out, he couldn’t hold back his questions.

“Is she getting worse? It seems like she’s getting worse.”

“Not necessarily. Chemo is weird like that sometimes, sometimes she’ll have good days with her meds, sometimes she’ll have bad ones. It’s just her body trying to fight for and against her at the same time. Exhausting, I would imagine. But she’s okay.”

“She doesn’t seem okay,” he said, looking back down the hallway before they went through the first set of doors.

“Hey.” He turned back to her, noted for a moment that her eyes were the same color as the painted jellyfish on the wall behind her. It grounded him somehow. “Don’t carry all this out here with you, it’ll wear you down. She’s in good hands, she’s sleeping, she’s safe. They’re doing everything they can for her, you’ve gotta trust in that.”

He knew that sometimes it didn’t matter how much they did, but he kept that to himself. 

“You want me to compartmentalize.” 

“A little bit, yes. It’s the only way you can survive something like this, trust me.” 

He did. And he knew she was right. So he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, let himself let go for a moment and breathe a bit easier. Without a hesitation, he reached a hand out for hers as soon as he opened his eyes, linking his fingers with hers. 

“Okay. Let’s go on a date then.” 

“Let’s go on a date,” she repeated, squeezing her tiny hand against his as they started down the hallway again. 

He’d hatched a whole plan, ran the whole thing by both Ethan and Eden. They were going to get dinner at a little vegan food truck that he had made sure would be close by, walk the High Line for the last hour that it was open, and finish off with a late night coffee from Jets. 

“Do I get to know the details of this date?” She asked while he opened the umbrella up outside and offered him her arm, almost as if she knew he was running through the itinerary in his head for the entire walk.

“Nope, you’re just along for the ride.” He grinned, trying to keep his confidence up as he started walking down the sidewalk.

For the first block, everything was fine. The rain picked up slightly, but nothing too bad, and it only made her hold onto him a bit tighter, leaning into him to avoid getting wet. He reveled in the feeling, holding himself back from leaning over and kissing her forehead. 

The second block, things got a bit worse. The wind began to howl, thunder booming so loud above them that they both jumped. It seemed to shake the buildings around them a bit, and Grayson bit his lip, scrambling to think of what they would do if it got worse.

By the third block, all hell broke loose. The rain was coming down in sideways sheets, soaking their shoes and pants as Grayson tried to angle the umbrella and keep Indiana dry. It worked for approximately two seconds before the wind inverted the umbrella, leaving them both entirely exposed. 

“Sorry, fuck, sorry!” He yelled over the roar of the rain, trying desperately to fix it as their shirts became heavy and wet. Their hair stuck to their foreheads, and when he pushed his back he saw that Indiana was laughing, laughing so hard that she leaned back slightly, clutching her stomach.

“C’mon, c’mon!” She grabbed his hand, dragging him along as they ran through the downpour. He followed her blindly, holding tight to her slippery hand as she weaved them through umbrellas and past people huddled under stoops. 

When she pulled him into the lobby of her apartment building they were both laughing, breathless and giddy, so loud that a few people turned to look at them.

They didn’t notice.

“Your teeth are chattering,” Grayson laughed, reaching out to rest a hand on her quivering cheek. He was cold too, but he didn’t care. He hoped the blush he got out of her warmed her up a bit. “Not to invite myself up or anything, but do you care if I get dried off?”

She rolled her eyes at him, just taking his hand and leading him over to the elevator. 

Unfortunately, a perfectly dry woman in her 40’s stepped on with them, and all it took was the sound of the water dripping off their clothes onto the tile for them to both break into a fit of giggles, Grayson’s mouth going wide in a silent cackle that had Indiana having to cover her own to keep from being too loud. She felt like a middle schooler getting scolded in the back of class until they made it to her floor, stepping past the woman with a muttered ‘sorry’ and wide smiles. They stared at each other until the doors closed, and then they were laughing again, holding onto each other’s shoulders as they tried to make it down the hallway and breathe at the same time. 

Grayson was wiping tears by the time they got to her door, still giggling to himself as he started to shiver, his clothes getting colder by the minute. He took his shoes off outside the door, not wanting to track even more water inside as she opened the door

Her apartment was a bit warmer than the hallway, a welcoming and simple space with a small kitchen to the left and a cozy living room in front of him. Without realizing that he had even done it consciously, he had imagined her in a place just like this, with the big windows on the other side of the room covered in rain. 

“Nice place,” he murmured.

“It’s no house, but it’s nice enough,” she teased. “Let me see if Devin left anything here that you can wear, hold on.” 

She disappeared into a room on the right and he made his way into the living room, showing himself around. The picture frames on the top shelf caught his eye for a moment, and he smiled at how cute she looked as a baby, how beautiful she looked in her dress with her sister beside her. The woman holding her hands in the last one looked just like her, and he was about to ask when he felt Indiana behind him.

“That’s my mom. Nicole.”

“She seems like a great mom.”

“Yeah, she was.” 

Grayson froze. Fuck. 

“Shit, Indy, I’m sorry I-”

She put a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. But let’s not talk about it tonight, yeah?”

He nodded, trying to swallow down his guilt. He knew what it felt like to have that sprung on you without a warning, and he wished he could pull the words back out of the air, back out of her mind. 

“Try these.” She passed him a pair of pajama pants. “I’m still looking for a shirt, I might have something that’s big enough for you. There’s a bathroom in my room if you wanna change in there.” 

“I can just go shirtless for a while, it’s no big deal,” he reassured her. Her eyes went wide for a moment, and he saw her swallow.

“Okay. I’m gonna change now.”

“Okay. I’ll wait until you’re done.”

They stared at each other for a minute before Indiana finally moved, going into her room to start rummaging through her own clothes. She changed faster than she ever had, throwing on a pair of leggings and a crewneck with some comfy fuzzy socks before she was back in the living room.

“All yours. Um, do you want anything specific for dinner? I haven’t gone to the store in a while, and I would feel bad making somebody deliver in this weather,” she mumbled. 

“Well, I’m vegan, but don’t worry if you don’t have anything, I can make it till I get home.”

In all honesty, he was starving, but he wasn’t about to end the date early because of a lack of plant based meal choices. 

“I’ll see what I have, go change so I can put your clothes in the dryer with mine.”

He did as she asked, moving into her room. It was similar to the living room - white bedding, simplistic artwork in wooden frames on the walls. But above her bed were an assortment of vinyls, and he actually gasped when he saw the one in the middle.

“You listen to Cudi?!” He yelled, running back into the living room. Indiana was in the kitchen with a cucumber in her hands, but he made her jump so hard that she almost dropped it.

“Yeah, do you?”

“I fucking love Cudi dude, he’s the best artist of all time. I can’t believe you listen to him too.” 

“Do I not give off Cudi vibes,” she laughed, putting the words in air quotes.

“No, you definitely do not.”

“What vibes do I give off then? Or do I not wanna know.”

“You don’t wanna know,” he grinned, flinching when she raised the cucumber like she was going to throw it.

“Go change Gray.”

He went back in, headed to her bathroom. It was much darker than the rest of the house, with a dark gray shower curtain adorned with wildflowers. He locked the door and stripped down quickly - his underwear were still damp, but he wasn’t about to go commando, especially if he was gonna risk having to hide a boner later. He had no idea how far the night was going to go, but he wanted to be ready for anything.

Standing there in the mirror in his boxers, he contemplated it for a minute, and then pulled a very 2016 Grayson move of dropping to the floor and doing a quick set of push ups so that his bare arms were a bit more swollen than they had been. 

He pulled the pants on, groaning a bit at how long they were, and how tight they clung to his ass. Worried that he’d spent too long in the bathroom he picked up his wet clothes and headed back to the living room with the ends of his pants rolled up three times so he didn’t trip on them.

“You didn’t tell me Devin was a fucking giant dude! How tall is that mans?” 

“He’s 6’5”,” Indiana laughed from somewhere he couldn’t see her, popping up with a loaf of bread and putting it on the counter. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, so much tanned skin stretched over thick bands of muscle that it had her mouth dry. She swallowed again before she spoke. “Just sit those down, I can put them in the dryer.” “I can do it, are yours already in there?” 

“Yeah, it’s over there.” She smiled and pointed to the doors in the hallway. He put them in and turned it on before he finally made it to the kitchen and saw the assortment on the counter. But she wasn’t looking at the food anymore - her eyes were all for him, and he felt himself fall nervous under her gaze again. 

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just cute.”

“Oh yeah, these pants are what do it for you huh?” He gave her a little spin just to make her laugh.

“Did I stutter?” She tilted her head to the side just barely, and it took all his self control not to lean in and kiss her right then. Instead, he just shook the thought from his head and stood close enough to where her shoulder was against his arm. 

“What’re we workin’ with?”

“Well. I’ve got apples, a few grapes, jelly, some lettuce, bread, peanut butter, a sweet potato and crackers. Sorry.” She was sheepish, and he just shook his head at her with a frown.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You trust my PB&J making abilities?” 

“That depends entirely on if you cut it into triangles or squares.” 

“Oh c’mon, it’s triangles all day,” he scoffed, getting a laugh out of her that had him floating. 

“Then yes, I approve. Do you care if I study while you make them? I just have a few things to go over.”

“Do whatever you gotta do,” he reassured her, moving to open the bread while she went back to her backpack. She was back quickly, with a stack of flashcards in her hands. 

“Here,” he cleared her a spot on the counter next to where he was working. “Sit up here, teach me some stuff.”

“It’s just vocab stuff, nothing interesting.” 

“Just say it outloud, maybe I’ll learn something.”

And so she did, laughing at the way his brows would furrow and the incredulous look he’d give her when it was a particularly long word. He took his time on the sandwiches, moving to cut up two apples and split the rest of the grapes between the two plates that he found after looking through the cabinets. 

He cleared his throat and held out the plate on the palm of his hand. “Bon appetit madam.”

“Why thank you,” she giggled, sitting her cards down and taking it from him gratefully. She stayed perched on the counter and he leaned back against the fridge, taking his own plate in his hands. She complimented the food as she ate, wiggling slightly in the cutest way. Finally, she spoke up.

“Since we’re here, do I get to know what the actual date plan was?”

“Nah, I’m saving that shit for the future,” he smiled, taking the last bite of his sandwich. Even he had to admit it was good despite the slightly stale bread.

“Oh the future huh?” 

“Yeah. Like next week.” 

“I’ll pencil you into my planner then,” she grinned, tossing a few grapes into her mouth. 

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not.”

“It’s not. Writing everything down keeps me sane I think.”

“Hey, organization is sexy,” he laughed, biting down on an apple slice. 

“Good to know.” Her words were a bit muddled around the bite she had in her mouth, and Grayson put his empty plate aside, content to sit and watch her finish her meal. It was so easy to be around her, and he didn’t second guess anything he did or said - he hadn’t realized until her how much he altered himself around everyone he met.

“10 outta 10 PB&J, I’m impressed,” she smiled at him, moving her plate to the side after a moment. He couldn’t help but notice the tiny bit of jelly clinging to her cheek, purple and sticky against her skin.

“You’ve got a little - here,” he stepped up to her, reaching a hand out and running his thumb over it to get it off. But he didn’t let go - not when she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, just like the jellyfish on the walls, and then he watched her look at his lips once before he leaned in. 

She tasted sweet, lips soft against his. They were both hesitant, not sure of how far to take it. Short and sweet, they separated and looked at each other. He felt like he could float away when she brought a hand up to his hair and pulled him back in for another. He moved a hand to the counter for leverage, leaning into her as she smiled against him.

“You taste like apples,” she whispered, and then they were both laughing like they had been all night, cheeks and stomachs sore in the best way.

“C’mon you, what do you wanna do with the rest of our date night?”

“We could finish Emperor’s New Groove?” She poised. 

He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her off the counter as she squealed, sitting her on her feet and taking her hand, headed to the living room. Ten minutes later and he was leaned back on the couch, feet up on the coffee table so she could curl up against his bare chest under the blanket while she scrolled through the film, trying to find where they left off.

He hoped that she’d undershoot it - anything to keep them right there, in each other's arms; bliss, as the storm raged on outside.

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 18

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,247

Warnings: Dildos, double penetration, blow jobs, fingering, orgasms.

A/N: My first entry for @cm-kinkbingo run by my beautiful girlfriend @heycasbutt​. This fulfills may glory holes square.

Today, your little 8-month-old dumpling is with your parents so that you and Spencer can have a day off together. Very early on in your relationship, Spencer had approached you with the idea of glory holes. As in going somewhere that you could safely partake in such a thing. He had this idea of watching you, the depraved lengths you’d go to for him, as it was something he’d done with a previous sub nearly 10 years earlier.

When he first brought up the idea, you’d had an immediate reaction to it - your legs turning to jelly at the thought of sucking however many cocks Spencer wanted you to. Once the idea came up again, he said he had reservations (since he wasn’t great at sharing) but that you could play it by ear.

After considerable research and asking around in the BDSM circle, you settle on a place that has a good reputation. Very clean. Everyone’s very respectful about the dirty, disgusting things you do together, playing by the rules and indulging each other’s darker sides. Spencer opens the car door for you, hands a bit shaky, and you ride to the place in silence.

Although originally the idea excited you, and to a degree it still does, the practicality of it is something else. In reality, you’re pretty sure you don’t want any other man but Spencer; disappointing him is a possibility, and you don’t want that, but you refuse to push yourself beyond your limits either. Spencer wouldn’t want you to do that.  

Spencer pulls up to the place and parks the car, nervously exchanging a glance with you. Just as you go to speak, he does too.

“I’m not sure about this.”

“I don’t wanna do this.”

Both of you speak at the same time and you laugh. It actually makes you a little emotional. “I don’t wanna suck anyone’s cock other than yours,” you reply as you caress his cheek.

“In my head it sounds great, but I don’t want to see you do that either. I just...didn’t want to disappoint you. I remember you liking the idea.”

Relief floods over you. “The idea, yea. But thinking about it makes me a little-” You flutter your fingers in front of you a bit. “Eh, you know?”

“So no?” He asks hopefully.

“Yea, let’s go home.”

On the drive back, your nerves steady out. “Hey, Spence,” you start just as he opens the door to the apartment. “I think I have an idea. A good substitute for us.”

“Tell me.”

“Can I show you?”

His eyes blow wide with lust as he nods, following you to the bedroom where you dig into your chest of toys. Occasionally, before Spencer retired from the BAU, he’d have you use a dildo that you could stick onto the wall or the bathtub, and he’d watch you fuck yourself on it.

“What if we stick this to the wall, and you can fuck my throat and fuck me into it?”

Spencer swallows hard and dips down to bite your lip, quickly stripping you out of your clothing and pushing you down to the floor on your hands and knees. “Sounds like the perfect plan to me. Why haven’t we done that?”

He grasps your chin in his hand and tongues at your mouth before crawling behind you to affix the dildo to the wall in a comfortable position. Once he has it right, he pushes you back onto it, watching with rapt attention it pushes past your swollen lips. This idea was percolating in your mind the entire way home, so you were more than ready to go without any additional preparation.

The dildo sits snugly inside you and Spencer comes back up to kneel in front of you, pulling his cock free of his jeans, which he tugs down and lets fall around his knees. At first, he teases you, slapping his cock against your tongue. He’s heavy and full. When he bucks forward, allowing you little kitten licks to the head of his cock, you lurch forward, desperate to get your lips around him.

You love the way he laughs at your desperation. Continuing his torture, he finally gives in when it becomes too much for both of you. He cradles your head and guides his cock into your mouth. His tenderness combined with his sure hand drives you crazy. As you flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock, you moan at the taste. He doesn’t taste like anything, but he tastes like Spencer.

Groaning around him, you push yourself back and forth and take as much of his cock as you can, immediately thrusting backward onto the dildo with equal force. Under hooded eyes, you can see a smile pulling at his lips as he watches you struggle. You want to have all of him and feel the fullness of the dildo, but moving back and forth only gives you one at a time. Oh the struggles of a needy submissive.

Towering over you, he shuffles forward on his knees and sends you back into the wall. “How’s that, love? Full pussy and a full mouth?”

In appreciation, you mumble around him and roll your tongue over and around his cock before he slides down your throat. With each pass of his cock, your pussy tightens around the plastic dildo, molding to each smooth, veiny inch. Spencer grunts above you, losing himself in the feel of your throat.

When he starts to pick up the pace, you gag around him. But you don’t fight it, you just allow the sound of it to pull you further into the trance he has you in.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes. “Stay right where you are. Don’t move.”

Happily, you still yourself and let Spencer use you, the force of his thrusts impaling you on the instrument behind you.

“If I touched you right now, how wet would you be?” He asks with a teasing tone. He loves the fact that you can’t answer because your mouth is full. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re soaked. Because you’re a little slut that likes to have her holes filled.”

Eyes sparkling with fresh tears, you smile around him, groaning around him when he muscles spasm and he comes down your throat with a raspy cry. After swallowing him down, you immediately peel yourself off the dildo and roll over on your back, sliding his cock against your tongue as you grab his hand and bring it to your pussy. “See how wet that made me, Sir?”

As he slides his fingers in and out of you, you continue to tease his cock. He’s overly sensitive, hissing with pleasure at each swipe of your tongue. “Sir, please shove your cock down my throat while I come?”

Spencer sucks in air through his teeth, trembling as he slides himself into your mouth and continues teasing you, ghosting his fingers over your folds and slipping his fingers in just enough before removing them again. Pulling his hand away, he rubs back and forth over your clit with a ferocity he doesn’t normally embrace. Your body lurches into his hand just as he slides down your throat. As your orgasm washes over you, your throat tightens, ripping a growl from your husband’s mouth.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. How do you do that?”

Laughing, you kiss the head of his cock. “I had a wonderful trainer, Sir.”

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn​ @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid​ @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1​ @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid​ @lazynoodledragon​ @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97​ @grace-superpowers​ @softestlavender​ @ssa-dr-ladylock​ @drprettyboy​ @patricks-fabulous-face​ @tearosaria​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @marvels-gurl​ 

[riotwritesthings]

Melt into Me (Your Words Are My Own)

WinterIron, E, 18k, Heavy casual praise kink, pining, non-graphic injury, self care is big sexy | AO3

Remember when I said this prompt for WinterIronMonth got way out of hand? I was young and naive. It’s a monster. Here it is I’m super proud of it. 

This fic, like lots of other fic, is all Stella’s fault. Everyone say thank you. And an extra big thank you for the idea, and the title, and in general letting me whine about this fic at you all the way through. You are truly a treasure.

-

Bucky has a new strategy for getting Tony to take proper human care of himself. Tony has never been so well fed, hydrated, thoroughly rested, and confused in all his life.  

That doesn’t mean he wants it to stop, and it’s amazing how many boring adult things Bucky can get him to do just by patting his head and calling him ‘good boy’. Right up until Tony possibly ruins everything.

-

“Did you actually go to medical before coming down here?” Bucky asks as he walks into the lab. He fixes Tony with an expectant stare, looking freshly showered and gorgeous and-

Tony viciously shoves down that line of thought, instead holds up his arm and shows off the neat line of stitches on his forearm “I did,” he says smugly, “and you can tell, because these are much neater than when I do it myself.”

“Your stitches are terrible, I’ve seen literal evil scientists with better needlework than you,” Bucky says agreeably, stepping close to inspect Tony’s arm before giving a satisfied nod.

“That’s hurtful,” Tony says, dropping his arm and turning back to his worktable before he does something stupid like lean in and try to get a big whif of the shampoo Bucky uses. “Now where’s my treat, that was the deal, I went and let the ‘professionals’ sew me up and you better not be backing out on your end of the deal, or-“ Tony cuts off when a ziplock bag of homemade cookies lands on the table in front of him, straight from Bucky’s secret stash that no one has been able to find. “Yay,” he says gleefully, ripping into the bag.

Bucky’s hand is suddenly resting on top of his head, gently ruffling it, and Tony is uncomfortably aware of the fact that his hair is a sweaty mess because he may have gotten distracted on the way to his post-battle shower. Then Bucky pats his head and coos “yeah, tha’s a good boy.” His voice is equal parts teasing and amused, maybe a hint of condescension and underneath it all a fond warmth, like he really is pleased Tony dragged his pitiful human ass to medical after a relatively routine fight.

Tony flushes hot, nearly chokes on his giant mouthful of cookie and the only saving grace is that Bucky has already wandered away to play some kind of elaborate game with the bots. Tony still does not understand the rules of said game, and he wishes he found it less endearing that Bucky refuses to explain it to him.

Okay, so. That... that happened. Tony turns his attention back to the gauntlet he’s trying to repair and tells himself it’s fine, it’s not like it’ll ever happen again. It’s fine.

-

And the thing is, it’s not like Tony meant for it to happen again. It’s not like he was aiming for it. At least... not intentionally.

It’s just that Bucky’s been pestering him about actually remembering to eat lunch at a decent time recently, so when one day Tony actually does remember he decides to rub it in a little. ‘Ate lunch,’ he texts even though it’s silly, it doesn’t even matter and Bucky is only a couple floors up helping Steve rearrange furniture to Natasha’s liking for the millionth time. ‘Don’t see the big deal, but now maybe you’ll leave me alone you big mother hen.’

About half an hour later, Tony is heading to check out the new common room arrangement when Bucky texts him back and he laughs when he sees that it’s just a cookie emoji. Then Bucky adds ‘good boy’ and Tony makes a strangled sound as he walks into the still-opening doors of the elevator.

Tony spins on his heel and punches the door-close button before anyone spots him. Because he really doesn’t need company while he presses his flaming red face against the cool metal wall of the elevator, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Tony firmly tells himself that had not been his intention, and it’s really a good thing he’s so experienced at lying to himself.

-

Tony tracks Bucky down to hand over the fancy new scope he’s just finished, and finds him in the library curled up in an oversized armchair. It’s unfairly adorable, and Bucky’s smile does dangerous things to his heart.

“Thanks doll,” Bucky says, staring up at him instead of inspecting his new toy. When Tony tries to literally wave him off, already turning for the door, Bucky catches him by the wrist and gives a gentle tug until Tony relents and meets his stupid earnest gaze. “I mean it,” Bucky says, “I know how hard you been workin’ on this, thank you.”

Tony sputters, and then makes a couple nonsense noises while something uncurls warm and amazing in his chest. “No worries,” he finally manages and it’s both a relief and a disappointment when Bucky releases his wrist. “Making scopes is my jam. That’s better than the one I just put on Clint’s bow. Don’t tell him.”

“I’m gonna tell ‘im,” Bucky says instantly, smug and grinning and still just staring up at Tony, like he could possibly be more interesting than a digital scope. “I get the best stuff an’ I wanna make sure he knows it.”

“Whatever makes you happy, snowflake,” Tony says, face warm because oh god he’s so obvious, isn’t he? When he turns to enact a manly flee, Bucky lets him go and the sound of his soft, fond laugh follows Tony the rest of the day.

-

It kind of spirals out of control from there. Tony tells himself he doesn’t love it, but even he doesn’t believe himself anymore.

Bucky snatches the coffee cup out of Tony’s hand and replaces it with a glass of water before Tony can even begin to formulate a protest. For a long second all Tony can do is blink in stunned silence because how dare?!

Tony narrows his eyes in a glare, and apparently the twitching of his free hand gives him away because Bucky shifts to hold the mug way up above his head with that wide, gorgeous grin. Tony is pretty sure, if he tried hard enough, he could get that mug back, but it would probably end in both of them covered in water and/or hot coffee. And it would involve a lot of pressing himself against Bucky and attempting to climb him like a tree, which is... probably not a great plan.

So Tony chugs the water, glaring the whole time, and then Bucky hands back his coffee with a quiet “good.” Tony struggles to fight back his blush, can’t at all help the smile that takes over his face, and Bucky just smiles back before continuing on his way.

-

“JARVIS, please wake Bucky up just to inform him that I am pointedly not getting more coffee at three in the morning, and please do it as obnoxiously as possible,” Tony says as he stares into the depths of the fridge, “I’m thinking air sirens. Neon lights.”

There’s a soft, low chuckle from right behind him, and Tony has just enough time to freeze up, his eyes going wide. Then Bucky’s hand is in his once again messy hair, and Bucky’s low, sleep-rough voice is rumbling out “good boy.”

By the time Tony finds his own voice again Bucky has leaned in close against his back to swipe one of Clint’s juice boxes, patted him on the shoulder, and started for the door. “If I’m a good boy then where’s my cookie?” He calls after Bucky’s retreating back, tongue thick and heart racing.

“Good boys go t’ sleep,” Bucky calls back, pointedly, and Tony grumbles all the way to bed.

He sleeps like a fucking baby, wakes up still feeling warm and happy and flushed.

-

"I don't need a brain scan," Tony insists. Again. “My brain is fine. It’s excellent. It is a stunning example of a human brain, ask anyone. Except Bruce, but he’s still just mad that I broke his favorite microscope.”

Bucky continues to stare him down, then lifts his shiny metal hand. "How many fingers am I holdin’ up?" He demands, and Tony would be insulted if he wasn’t having such a hard time focusing.

Tony stares at his hand, counting carefully. "Three," he finally declares, with full confidence.

"That took entirely too long!" Bucky says, dropping his hand again even though it looks like what he really wants to do is just throw both hands in the air and yeah, Tony gets that a lot. "You have a knot the size of a fuckin’ golf ball an’ no offense, but it’s ruinin’ your pretty face. Go get th’ damn scan!"

Tony taps his screwdriver against his chin, eyes on the ceiling, and decides he should probably wait to freak out about the ‘pretty face’ comment later, alone. So for now he turns a sunny smile on Bucky, pointing his screwdriver, and says "no.”

"Please, doll? Do it for me?" Bucky asks, completely shifting tactics, and he even has the gall to pout at Tony. With his blue eyes and red lips. The nerve of it.

Tony holds firm. For about five seconds. "Fine," he sighs, dropping the screwdriver to the table so he can throw both hands in the air himself.

Bucky smiles at him, warm and relieved and something that Tony almost wants to call thankful and Tony has to drop his chin because he can’t deal with that face.

Moving his head so suddenly kind of makes the room spin, and Bucky ends up having to carry him to the medical wing. Bucky also lectures him the whole time, but his hands are so gentle and he stays for the entire thing and Tony finds that he only minds the lectures a little.

-

Tony wakes up from a nap he definitely hadn’t intended to take, still sprawled out on the couch in the common room with Bucky’s fingers still running through his hair. He has no idea how much time has passed but the TV is off and the windows are dark. He appears to have stolen Sam’s blanket, at some point.

He twists his head, still resting on Bucky’s thigh, to fix Bucky with a baleful look and says “I thought I told you I didn’t need a nap.”

“‘S not like I made you fall asleep,” Bucky says, smiling innocently even though he basically did, with his stupid magic hands. Then Bucky’s grin turns into a smirk, voice low as he adds “but don’t you feel better now?”

Tony pouts harder, because he does, and Bucky laughs, continues petting his head until Tony falls right back to sleep.

-

“You do not want me helping you cook,” Tony says with a sputtering laugh, but he steps further into the kitchen anyways, because whatever Bucky is cooking smells amazing. And because it’s Bucky. “I can’t believe you’d ask me to come help you cook. Did JARVIS not tell you how much of a terrible idea that is?”

“Just be good an’ get over here,” Bucky says, and he doesn’t look up from stirring whatever’s in the giant pot but Tony can hear him rolling his eyes.

“I will be no help,” Tony assures him, but steps up to the stove anyways, trying to peek over the rim of the pot. “Is that tomato sauce? Please say yes, and then please don’t let me ruin it.”

Bucky lets out a huff of laughter and turns towards him, wooden spoon outheld, and says “c’mon doll I need a taste tester.” When Tony just blinks at him, Bucky wiggles the spoon a little and says “open up, sweet thing.”

Tony does his best to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him, instead making a big show of checking the spoon for signs of poison or sabotage, humming suspiciously until Bucky gives an impatient huff. Only then does Tony give in, leaning in just a little more to drag his tongue up the flat back of the wooden spoon and then groans happily, because holy shit that is some good sauce. He opens his eyes to tell Bucky so, not sure when they fell closed in the first place, only to find Bucky watching him with an intensity that has Tony’s breath catching in his throat.

“Good?” Bucky asks, like he doesn't already know the answer, and when Tony nods emphatically he grins. “See,” he says, voice suddenly gone low and deep, not looking away from Tony even as he returns to stirring the pot, “you can be good an’ helpful, knew you could babydoll.”

Bucky finally turns back to the stove, just in the nick of time because there’s not a damn thing Tony can do about the warmth spreading across his cheeks, unfurling in his chest. “Yes, very helpful,” Tony says with a dry laugh, “what would you do without me here to lick things?”

Bucky’s eyes flick over to him, lids lowered in a way that is giving Tony ideas, and his lips quirk up and as he says “have to lick things myself I guess, an’ where’s the fun in that?” Tony barks out a startled laugh, face heating, and Bucky grins down at the pot. “Gonna stay and eat with me, right?” He asks pointedly, like he’s just daring Tony to say no.

Tony pretends like he actually has to think about it, making considering noises and dragging his eyes away from the smug curve of Bucky’s lips. “Do I get a treat afterwards?” He asks obnoxiously, giving Bucky a little nudge with his elbow.

“Mmhmm,” Bucky hums, gaze shifting over to him again. Tony can feel his pulse in his fingertips in the best possible way and he has to bite his lip so he won’t start blurting out suggestions. Bucky’s eyes flick down, just for a second, and then he says “go get some plates.”

So they eat dinner, and Bucky demands to know all of Tony’s greatest cooking disasters and yeah he laughs his ass off but he also keeps giving Tony these wide, warm smiles, and Tony finds that he really doesn’t mind. He’d tell Bucky every embarrassing thing he’s ever done if he gets to hear that laugh. And he’s done a lot.

When Tony starts shoving his empty plate across the table, knocking it into Bucky’s obnoxiously, Bucky just laughs and goes to rummage around in the pantry. Which is a foolish move, because now Tony knows his secret sweets stash is in fact somewhere in the pantry. Which is more than anyone else knows.

Bucky returns with a chocolate and peanut butter cookie roughly half the size of Tony’s face, and then watches him eat it with an unfairly intense stare. Bucky barely glances down at his own plate as he devours a second, and then a third helping of food, just watches Tony eat the cookie that he’s starting to suspect Bucky has been saving just for him. Like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing in the world, nothing more interesting than watching Tony make a mess of himself with baked goods, licking smears of chocolate off his fingers.

The heat in Tony’s gut is battling for attention with the warmth in his chest, and he can’t do much more than stare back. He barely even remembers the walk to the elevator after Bucky firmly suggests he should get some sleep once in a while, the weight of Bucky’s eyes on his shoulders all the way down the hallway.

He falls asleep thinking the word ‘ravenous’ and wakes up panting, stuck to his sheets and aching.

-

Bucky walks into the room, and Tony switches from eating his breakfast like a normal, rational person, to eating it pointedly, fork scraping across his plate, loud chewing, the works.

Bucky just smiles, big and genuine, says “look at you, feedin’ yourself, I’m so proud,” like he really means it. Tony swallows thickly, heart thundering in his chest and an addictive warmth spreading through him. That still doesn’t mean he lets Bucky get away with trying to steal his bacon, though.

And okay yeah, Tony feels a little bad, if he stops to let himself think about it. Feels like a bit of a creep, but only a little. Because it’s not like Bucky knows that every tiny nice thing he says goes straight to Tony’s head. And his heart. And also a little bit to his dick. Just like Bucky doesn’t know that Tony has had a big useless crush on him for like a year now and really, what’s one more secret?

And besides, unless Tony is actually as out-of-touch as some people like to accuse him of being, it almost seems like Bucky is happier too. Like for some reason he actually likes keeping Tony alive and functional, and really, who would Tony be if he took that away? If Bucky gets some sense of accomplishment out of forcing Tony to get three square meals and eight-ish hours of sleep, then who is Tony to deny him?

It’s just one more tiny little secret.

-

Tony barely manages not to audibly sigh in relief as the reporter who’s been hounding him gets distracted by some kind of commotion over by the catering table and hurries away, lest he miss the story. Tony’s smile doesn’t slip, because he’s a pro, but it’s difficult. Tony loves his mother’s charity, he really does, it’s the only gala he doesn’t have to be convinced to go to, but he really wishes people wouldn’t ruin it by insisting on asking about Howard.

If Tony has to grit his teeth one more time and say that Howard was a ‘great man’ (debatable) or that he ‘always supported Maria in her causes’ (outright lie), then he’s going to snap and do something drastic. Like go raid the entire bar. Or cry.

“You don’t have t’ put up with that,” comes a voice from right beside him, and Tony jumps hard even though he’d know that voice anywhere. Apparently, Tony is even more tense than he’d realized, and the concerned look on Bucky’s face means he’s probably noticed too.

“I’m going to put a bell on you, almost gave me a heart attack,” Tony grumbles, clutching one hand to his chest and hoping like hell that they can just not talk about it.

Bucky hums thoughtfully, then grins and says “Sneakin’ with a bell, sounds like a fun challenge.”

“That is not the point of the bell,” Tony says seriously, pointing at him, and not letting his eyes drag down the line of Bucky’s body, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how good Bucky’s legs look in a well-fitted suit.

“I mean it,” Bucky says, smiling dimming a little, and so much for Tony’s attempts to deflect, “you know you don’t have to put up with that, right?”

“What?” Tony asks blankly, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, he never gets away with playing dumb. Sure enough, Bucky fixes him with a flat look until Tony sighs and says “Yes, I kind of do.”

“No,” Bucky says, so firm and urgent that Tony is a little taken aback, catching Tony gently by the elbow when he tries to turn, tries to look for a distraction. “Maybe you have to be here, an’ maybe you have to play nice, but you don’t have t’ answer anythin’ you don’t wanna. And you especially don’ have to talk about him.”

Tony doesn’t know what he feels at this point, some mix of frozen and warm and fuzzy, flushed hot while ice runs through his veins, and he kind of can’t believe that Bucky has been watching him that closely-

“I don’t?” He asks and hates how weak his voice comes out, how unsure, but he’s been talking up Howard at these stupid things for as long as he can remember, it’s second nature, and no one has ever told him that he doesn’t have to in his his entire life-

“No, Tony,” Bucky says and his voice has gone soft too, rough and a little sad and he smiles crookedly as he adds “jus’ tell ‘em to fuck off if they keep tryin’.”

“Well I definitely can’t do that,” Tony huffs. Bucky’s fingers are still holding him so gently, thumb dragging over the inside of his elbow, making Tony shiver just as much as holding him standing.

“You’ll figure it out,” Bucky says, smiling a little wider again and tapping his thumb against Tony’s pulse through his sleeve, “you got that way with words, sweet talker, ‘m sure you’ll come up with somethin’.”

“You’re the sweet talker,” Tony grumbles, and Bucky laughs softly.

Not even half an hour later the same damn reporter corners him as he steps off the stage after his speech, asking the same damn questions, and Tony hesitates. Then he decides fuck it, throws out all his prepared responses, slaps on his sharpest smile and bites out “I’m not going to talk about that anymore.”

The reporter actually looks a little thrown for a second, then visibly steels his nerve and says “People just want to know what it was like growing up with-“

“No,” Tony says, smiling wider, sharper, “I’ve already answered that question what must be a million times by now, how about you go dig up one of those stories and republish that. I’m sure it’ll be better written that way, anyways.” The reporter is still sputtering as Tony turns and walks away, slips into a side hallway to pat himself on the back and maybe panic-breathe, just a little.

He’s barely slumped back against the wall before Bucky is right in front of him, breathing out “Oh, Tony.”

“Seriously, a bell, a big one,” Tony repeats, smile only a little wobbly as he drags his eyes up to meet Bucky’s, and then can’t help blurting out “Did I- was that... okay?”

“Perfect,” Bucky says instantly, jolting forward and then stopping, like he’d been about to pull Tony in for a hug before thinking better of it. Which is too bad, Tony could really go for a hug right now but it’s almost just as good when Bucky says “That was perfect, you did so good sweet thing, don’t you feel better now?”

“Yes,” Tony says with a heavy sigh, not even realizing how much he means it until all the tension bleeds out of him and before he can stop himself Tony is leaning forward to thump his forehead against Bucky’s chest, letting his eyes fall closed and breathing in the comforting, earthy smell of Bucky’s cologne. He just can’t take the warmth and open pride in Bucky’s gaze anymore, not without running the very serious risk of turning to a useless puddle of mush.

Of course, then Bucky’s right hand lands warm and gentle on the back of Tony’s head, wide palm cradling his skull easily and thumb stroking down the line of his neck, the other hand curled around Tony’s shoulder and pulling him a little closer. “So proud’a you, Tony, did so good, knew you could do it doll,” Bucky says softly, speaking directly against the top of Tony’s head while his fingers slide through Tony’s hair.

“I’ve told off reporters before,” Tony huffs, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, Bucky apparently sees right through him, “I do it all the time. Did you miss when I snapped at one of them during that last press conference and Steve gave me disappointed face?”

Bucky just hums, taps his metal fingers against the curve of Tony’s shoulder blade. “Yeah,” he finally says, voice barely more than a breath, “For everyone else. Always makin’ sure the rest of th’ team never has to talk about anythin’ they don’t want to the press. Never cut yourself any slack like that, though, do ya?”

Tony’s breath catches in his throat, and how does Bucky do that?! He has no response, no idea what to say, absolutely never expected to be called out. Not on this. When Bucky makes a soft, expectant sound, like he’s actually waiting for an answer, all Tony can do is shake his head a little, careful not to accidentally dislodge Bucky’s hold on him.

“You’re worth it too, ya hear me?” Bucky asks, his hold on Tony tightening ever so slightly, one finger tap tap tapping at the back of Tony’s head until Tony finally huffs and nods. “Good boy,” Bucky says, still so softly, and if he notices the way Tony all but melts against him, at least he doesn’t say anything about it.

-

Tony shuffles down the hallway, frowning at his phone and glancing up every now and then just to make sure he’s not about to run into anyone. Considering he lives in a tower full of spies, soldiers, and other assorted superheroes, they all have surprisingly terrible situational awareness sometimes. And sure, it’s heartwarming that they can all let their guard down, at least a little, but he’s also a little tired of people tripping and breaking things because Thor likes to nap in hallways.

When he glances up and spots Bucky in his path, he steps to the side and barely has time for a “Hey frosty, Clint was looking for you. He was also holding a water gun, so I’d be careful.” After a quick grin Tony returns to squinting at his phone, and therefore does not see it coming at all when Bucky gently grabs his elbow and halts him in his tracks.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, an adorable little concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows. He also lets go of Tony’s arm, which is a shame.

Tony blinks, then glances down at himself. He’s not sure what gave Bucky the impression that something is wrong, if it was the stained and hole-littered jeans, the wrinkled shirt, or the fact that Tony apparently lost one of his socks somewhere. Huh.

“Yeah, fine,” Tony says and waves his phone a little, “just got a lot to do. You know how it is. Every day I receive emails, so on and so forth.”

“You got a headache?” Bucky asks, randomly, even though Tony does. It’s pounding right behind his eyes, and all along his temple, and throbbing in time with his heartbeat. All in all, it’s a high quality headache.

“No,” Tony says anyways, because he has things to do, and Bucky is making ‘go take a nap’ face at him. It’s a very specific face. “My head feels awesome, better than awesome, I gotta get down to the lab, so, you better be getting on with your water gun fight. Watch the furniture.”

Tony tries to step away again, before Bucky can guilt him into not working, but Bucky snaps a hand out and catches him by the belt loop on his hip. It’s everything Tony can do not to swallow his tongue.

“What you gotta do is take a break,” Bucky says firmly, and Tony is opening his mouth to ask if that means he’s invited to the water gun fight, but Bucky apparently sees it coming and cuts him off. “Go take a nap, Tony.”

“I don’t want a nap,” Tony whines petulantly and braces his bare foot against the ground, leans against Bucky’s hold and trusts him not to actually let go as Tony pouts at him.

“Then at least go lay down,” Bucky says, heartlessly. When Tony just pouts at him harder Bucky rolls his eyes with a soft huff and says “Do it an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to drink.” When Tony opens his mouth Bucky immediately adds “not coffee.”

Tony gasps in horror, but Bucky remains unswayed. “Fine, hot chocolate,” he demands, leaning a little harder despite the way his worn jeans are gaping at the waist and more than likely to rip at any second.

Bucky considers, eyes dragging down Tony’s chest and probably counting the grease stains on his shirt, and finally says “Water an’ then hot chocolate.”

“Fine, I will go to my room and await my beverage delivery,” Tony says, already running mental calculations on exactly how long he has to run to the lab and grab his tablet then stash it somewhere before Bucky catches him.

“You goin’ straight to your room?” Bucky asks, one eyebrow raised, and damnit how does he do that?! Tony is seriously considering

Tony groans, then gives what Rhodey has assured him is the worst salute humanly possible as he says “Sir yes sir, Sargent Tastee-Freeze.”

Bucky grins with lots of teeth and tugs at Tony’s belt loop to pull him back upright again as he says “Good boy.”

Tony goes straight to his room, and Bucky’s smile when he finds Tony already curled up under a blanket with the lights in the room down low is totally worth it. The amazing hot chocolate is just a bonus.

-

“Tony,” Bucky says, voice frantic, “Tony, you gotta stay awake.”

“Hurts,” Tony complains, just in case Bucky hasn’t noticed that he’s bleeding out here. And he’s supposed to be the observant one.

“I know, I know it does,” Bucky says and his fingers are shaking as he brushes Tony’s hair off of his forehead. His other hand is incredibly steady as it presses a crumpled jacket to Tony’s bleeding stomach, making him groan pitifully. “You gotta stay awake for me, doll, jus’ stay awake.”

“Wanna sleep,” Tony says petulantly, because that sounds way better than being awake for all this agony. His eyelids are already fluttering shut and he’s not worried about the asshole that shot him, if Bucky is here then there’s nothing to worry about. Tony is pretty sure Natasha was around here too somewhere, but it’s surprisingly hard to remember.

“No no no, wake up,” Bucky says, voice cracking, and maybe there is something to worry about, if Bucky sounds that upset. Tony wonders what it is. “C’mon, wake up for me sweetheart, be a good boy and just- jus’ open your eyes.”

“Good?” Tony slurs out and cracks one eye open, just enough to see that Bucky’s face is wet and if Tony didn’t know better he’d think Bucky was crying.

“Yeah Tony,” Bucky says with a smile that’s entirely too shaky, sounding entirely too desperate, “jus’ be good and stay awake for me, give you all the fuckin’ cookies you want, give you anything.” His hand is on Tony’s cheek again, fingers so warm, and when Tony’s eyes start to fall closed again Bucky gives him the slightest of shakes and says “Hey, hey, c’mon doll, don’t you got some demands for me? Gotta stay awake to tell me what you want, baby.”

“Wanna be good,” Tony manages to croak out, struggling to get his stubborn eyes to open and actually focus. He almost wishes he hadn’t, because there’s something horribly stricken about Bucky’s expression, something startled and scared and it drags a pained noise out of Tony’s chest that has nothing to do with the blood pooling below him.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks after a pause and he’s shaking all over now, everywhere but his metal hand still pressed firm and agonizing over the bullet holes in Tony’s stomach. “Wanna be good for me, you gotta stay awake until the paramedics get here, can you do that sweet thing?”

“Gross, hate them,” Tony says, and Bucky’s laugh sounds more like a choked sob. Tony flails one hand up until he can grab weakly at Bucky’s shirt. “‘Kay, stayin’ awake,” he says and decides to not mention that he can taste blood with each word, instead tugging at Bucky’s shirt a little as he slurs out “just cuz y’re a worrier.”

“That’s real sweet of ya, darlin’,” Bucky says and at least his laugh sounds a little less ragged, a little less like it’s being dragged out of him.

Everything goes a little fuzzy after that, but Tony doesn’t let go of his grip on Bucky’s shirt until the EMTs start heartlessly cutting into his nice suit. Bucky doesn’t let go for even longer.

 -

Tony did something wrong. He doesn't know what, but he knows he did something. Which is just, Classic Tony.

Except he does know, he knows exactly what he did and the knowledge sits in his stomach like a weight. He made it weird. He hasn't seen Bucky since he woke up in the hospital. Not really. Because Tony made it weird.

He’s not even sure what he did, exactly, except possibly everything. He’s got this huge sad crush on Bucky, sure, but he’s had that for ages now, and Tony is dealing with it. He’s dealing with it fine. And okay sure, maybe Tony has been acting like a bit of a creep about it, lately, getting all warm and fuzzy and tingly anytime Bucky does something nice for him. Which Bucky does all the time, because he’s a nice person.

And now Tony has scared him off, somehow, between bleeding out mid-press conference and being discharged from the hospital. Painkiller-Tony probably said something to give himself away, that loopy bastard has no filter.

But Tony tells himself it’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he’ll finally get over this stupid, useless crush now. It’s not like he feels cold and lonely without Bucky’s constant hovering, or anything. It’s not like the fact that Bucky will barely look at him hurts more than the multiple lines of stitches in his stomach, or anything.

It’s fine.

-

He shuffles slow and careful into the kitchen at stupid-o-clock in the morning, after his second (third?) night without sleep, and there’s no super soldier laying in wait to snatch away his coffee. And force feed him an obscene stack of pancakes. And bitch at him for not sleeping enough when he’s technically still recovering from his unintended run-in with multiple bullets.

The best he gets is Natasha telling him he looks like a zombie and throwing an apple at his head, which really just doesn’t have the same charm. Even if she does do it gently, while giving him concerned eyes.

So Tony gets his coffee, takes his apple, goes back to the lab and wakes up later that day with everything aching because he passed out sprawled across a worktable again. His back is sore and he’s hungry and his stitches burn from being hunched over for hours.

But it’s fine. Tony is fine, he’s an adult, he’s been barely-taking-care-of himself for years. It’s fine.

-

Bucky is still around, is the thing, he still cracks dry jokes at Steve’s expense and hoards all the blankets on movie nights.

He still wanders down to the lab to play with the bots, but it’s not as often. Not that Tony has made charts, or anything, just to prove to himself that it’s not all in his head. He brings down plates of food, also less often, and doesn’t stick around to make sure Tony eats them. Tony never plans to, plans to shove the food away for a proper pout, but after the third time he finds himself finishing off the plate and halfway through texting Bucky about it before realizing better, Tony gives up. He switches to just eating as soon as Bucky leaves the lab, and he doesn’t even have to lie to himself that it’s just a different form of pouting.

When Tony tracks him down to hand over some new body armor, Bucky still thanks him with entirely too much sincerity, like he still doesn’t realize that this is just what Tony does. It still makes Tony’s heart lurch and his stomach swoop and his face heat, but when Tony goes to run away because he still doesn’t know how to deal with that, Bucky doesn’t stop him.

Bucky still watches his back in every fight and suggests weird sci-fi books, still leaves leftovers with Tony’s name on them in the fridge just like he always has. Tony still has his friend, is the thing, and when he tells himself that’s all he’d ever expected it’s not even a lie.

-

JARVIS is the one to gently remind him when it’s time to have his stitches removed, Tony is nearly overwhelmed by the sudden urge to cry. Because he can’t remember the last time Bucky wasn’t the one dragging him down to medical for boring things like follow up appointments, bribing him with baked goods and smiling all the while.

Tony is tempted to just remove them himself, he’s so tempted. Because it’s not like he can’t, it’s what he used to do before Bucky started his whole ‘aggressive mother hen’ routine. He even has the tiny scissors in hand, sterilized and everything, but he can’t stop picturing that sad little twist to Bucky’s lips, the way his eyes go wet and pained when he catches Tony doing his own first aid. And Tony can’t even lie to himself that Bucky doesn’t care anymore, because they’re still friends, it’s not like Tony can exactly blame him for needing space now that he almost definitely knows Tony has feelings.

Eventually Tony throws down the scissors so aggressively that DUM-E makes concerned beeping noises at him, and he definitely gets some weird looks when he stomps into medical grumpy and painfully alone. No one asks any questions about it though, about the sudden Bucky-shaped hole in his side, and Tony wonders just how miserable he must look.

-

He nearly runs straight into Bucky in the hallway at something-past-midnight, and it’s all Tony can do to not spill his extra large mug of coffee all over both of them.

“You give me one more heart attack and I’m actually putting that bell on you,” Tony threatens, clutching his mug close to his chest even though odds are pretty good Bucky isn’t going to try and take it from him anymore.

Sure enough, Bucky only makes sad-eyes at his coffee for about two seconds, then drags his eyes up to Tony’s face and says “Just make sure they sound extra Christmas-y, to fit with my whole ‘winter’ vibe.”

Tony laughs and tells himself that this is fine. He still has a friend, still gets to enjoy Bucky’s weird sense of humor, still gets to see him around in the common rooms and that’s plenty, it’s fine. He almost manages to believe it. “Christmas anti-stealth bells, your wish is my command,” Tony says, nodding seriously. And then he raises his coffee to his lips and takes an obnoxiously loud sip, doesn’t know why he does it except that he absolutely does, stupidly trying to bait Bucky into snatching it away from him, insisting Tony take it easy, get some sleep some time this week, something.

All Bucky does is make sadder-eyes at him, which is not what Tony had been going for now he feels terrible. Bucky opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then shuts it again, and honestly that’s worse than the way Tony’s stomach still throbs dully anytime he laughs, it’s an aching hurt that settles deep in his chest and makes it hard to breathe.

“Well, I better get on it,” Tony says and takes a shuffling step back because he doesn't know what else to do, he doesn’t know how to fix this. He’s tried to stop having this big stupid crush, fuck has he tried, but he can’t. It just gets worse and Tony is starting to think he’s never getting over it, just one more chronic ache he’ll never shake.

Tony needs to go, he needs to get out of here and go put himself back together so he can stop doing this to himself. But when he turns too quickly it sends a sharp pain lancing through his gut and Tony can’t quite stop the hiss that slips out of him. He doesn’t stop moving though, just pushes through and keeps his steps as carefully measured as he can, even when Bucky makes a soft, wounded noise that sounds like he’s trying to swallow it down.

Bucky doesn’t actually say anything though, and soon enough Tony is alone in his room holding a mug of coffee he’s just now realizing he doesn’t even want. He dumps it out in the sink, crawls into bed for another good pout and ends up falling asleep for eight hours.

-

So Tony keeps feeding himself and getting a good night’s sleep every so often. He even waits until he’s officially cleared by the doctors to start demanding to be let back into the field and he drinks the occasional glass of water. He keeps doing all those things even after he stops hoping Bucky will ruffle his hair and call him a ‘good boy’ in that tone that’s somehow the perfect mix of fond and amused and bossy and maybe just a little condescending.

Because they’re still friends, and Tony doesn’t want to ruin that too. He doesn't want to keep making Bucky make sad-eyes at him across the lab when he catches Tony chewing on coffee beans to keep himself awake, holding a half-melted ice pack to his face and squinting at his screens.

So maybe Tony has a big sad crush, and maybe Bucky figured that out somehow. Probably the fact that Tony got inappropriately tingly when Bucky treated him like a particularly stupid house pet, because Bucky has completely stopped. Tony is not letting himself think about how much he misses it, because that’s not the point.

The point is that they’re friends, and if it makes Bucky sad when his friends can’t take basic human care of themselves, well the least Tony can do is try to do better. It was just a lot easier when he could look forward to Bucky patting his head and calling him ‘good’ in that way that sent heat spiraling through Tony’s entire body.

But whatever. Tony manages.

-

“We should order pizza,” Tony announces, marching into the common room and nearly shouting to be heard over what appears to be half the team heckling a baking show.

“Are you trying to start another screaming match?” Steve demands, giving him a horrified look, “this tower cannot agree on pizza toppings, we’ve learned this.”

“I’ll just order everyone their own, no screaming, no problem,” Tony says dismissively, “I just finished with an all-day meeting that could have lasted an hour tops and I’m starving and the only thing that can make it better is pizza.” He ends his declaration with a whine and a little stomp of his foot, and tells himself that the sound of Bucky’s quiet laugh doesn’t make his chest warm. He needs to get better at lying to himself.

“But then I still have to see the abomination Clint calls a pizza, and how am I supposed to eat like that?” Sam demands, shooting a look at Clint who’s already half on-top of his arm chair and drawing in a huge breath to no doubt shout his rebuttal.

“I’m still going to do it,” Tony says gleefully, drowned out by the onslaught of yelling and already pulling out his phone.

“Are you happy now?” Steve demands as Sam and Clint start whipping throw pillows across the room at each other while Bucky laughs, egging them on and tossing Clint more ammo.

And yeah, Tony kind of is.

-

Someone walks into the workshop and Tony’s head snaps up, but it’s just Clint. Tony is not disappointed.

“Stop giving me that look,” Clint says, pointing one finger at Tony’s face. “Bucky wanted me to come down here and remind you to go to medical. He also told me not to tell you he told me to, but I’ve conveniently forgotten that part.”

“Convenient for who?” Tony asks with a huff of laughter, and ignores the way it makes his stupid heart feel all warm that Bucky still worries, at least, even if he doesn’t actually want to come down and face Tony’s crush himself. It’s still something.

Clint ignores him in favor of poking at the things scattered across the worktables, never mind that most of it is weaponry of some kind, and when Tony throws a screwdriver at him Clint spins around with an unimpressed look. “What’s up with you two, anyways? You’re being weirder than normal,” he demands, throwing the screwdriver back.

“Go tell him I’ve already been,” Tony says, barely managing to catch the tool before it hits him in the face, “my stomach is fine, they just taped up my ribs and gave me a tetanus shot. Tetanus!” And no, for the record, Tony had not spent the entire time thinking about how Bucky probably would have let Tony hold his hand, if he’d been there.

“Go tell him yourself, you incredible idiot,” Clint says, and then starts poking at dangerous things until Tony kicks him out of the lab.

-

“Why are you up before noon and looking like you actually slept?” Video-call-Rhodey demands, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “who are you and what have you done with Tony?”

“Fuck you, platypus,” Tony says pleasantly, “that’s hurtful, I know how to adult.” The look Rhodey fixes him with in return is so unimpressed Tony’s can feel it in his soul, even through the screen.

“I have known you for years,” Rhodey says slowly, “and I can emphatically say that no, you do not, and- Are you drinking water?”

“What? No,” Tony says, lowering his glass of water back out of frame. Rhodey continues to stare him down, and Tony just stares back, because there is no way they’re getting into this. Tony wouldn’t even know where to start, at this point.

He passes Bucky as he turns the corner towards the elevator, and Tony really wishes he had the time to ask what Bucky is grinning so wide about. As it is he has a meeting with Pepper to get to and best-friend-questions to avoid.

-

“You know what Steve,” Tony snaps, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s exhausted, he’s sore, he has a ton of work to do and he’s tired of being yelled at for shit that’s not his fault. He’s also tired of the sad look Bucky is giving him, like he thinks Tony can’t see him, like he thinks Tony doesn’t know that he doesn’t deserve this.

Steve actually falters, words trailing off as he blinks at Tony because yeah, Tony usually calls him ‘Rogers’ when he’s pissed, or at least ‘Cap’. And yeah it’s one of Tony’s favorite ways of distancing himself, what of it? He can feel Bucky’s stare like a physical weight on his chest, he’s frustrated enough with himself as it is, and Tony doesn’t want distance.

“I’m not a magician, okay,” Tony grits out, doesn’t snap it, keeps his voice even and clenches his fists to keep them from shaking, “hacking an encrypted system takes time, and it takes processing power. Processing power that is limited when I’m also using it to pilot the armor, so yeah, I hacked it as quick as I could, and if that’s not good enough then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Steve gapes at him for a second, eyes wide and mouth hanging open and Tony really wishes he could feel better about accomplishing that right now. “Oh,” Steve finally says, and Tony can’t help but notice that the debrief room has suddenly cleared out around them. “I- I didn’t-“

This is usually the part where Tony would jump on that moment of hesitation, tack on a couple barbs to easily push Steve from thrown-off to angry. It’s surprisingly easy, Tony has practically made an art form out of it. Because Tony is so much better at knowing what to do with people when they’re mad at him. But right now, Tony is tired, and he really needs a shower, and he really needs to get down to the lab and figure out how to up the power in the suit, make sure he doesn’t get caught unprepared again.

And yeah, Tony can still feel Bucky staring at him, and Tony doesn’t know how much longer he can stand it without breaking down and doing something ridiculous. Like demanding a hug. Or to have his head patted, or for reassurance that he did okay. And Tony doesn’t get that anymore, never should have had it in the first place, so he just turns and leaves.

Tony has nearly made his escape, and he’s managing to keep it together, right up until he catches sight of Buck’s face. Tony has spent a lot of time cataloging away all of Bucky’s expressions, telling himself the entire time that he’s not a creepy obsessed weirdo, and he’s never seen that face before. Some mix of happy and surprised and proud, and a hundred other things that Tony still hasn’t been able to figure out how to deal with. Seeing it less often apparently doesn’t stop Tony’s heart from lurching dangerously at the sight of that warm smile, doesn’t stop his stomach from working itself into a tight, heated knot.

No one follows after him, and after turning a couple corners blindly Tony finally lets himself slump back against a wall, just for a second. Just to try and catch his breath, try to fight down the warmth rising stubbornly in his chest.

-

Tony likes doing his test flights of the suits around dusk, when he can help it. He likes watching night fall over the city, likes watching the colors of the sunset give way to the bright lights that come to life in every window.

When he finally heads back for the tower he aims for the roof, figuring he’ll have the suit drop him off and then take itself down to the workshop to start running diagnostics on the new settings without him. It’ll take a while anyways, and Tony hasn’t had dinner yet. And for some reason, all of Tony’s friends seem weirdly invested in his eating habits and are weirdly thrilled when he remembers to do it. Tony is even doing a better job lately of convincing himself there’s not one friend in particular he’s trying to thrill.

Once the armor zips off towards the entrance on the workshop level the roof is dark, and Tony very nearly trips over Bucky on his way to the door. He makes an embarrassing squeaking noise but manages to keep his balance, only wincing a little as his toes throb because fuck what is Bucky’s shin made of?!

“Woah, shit, excellent lurking there, Frosty, truly A+ work,” Tony says, clutching at his chest, and he’s about to re-suggest his whole ‘put a bell on you’ plan when Bucky actually drags his eyes up from the ground to fix on Tony instead.

Bucky looks terrible. Which of course means he’s still one of the most gorgeous people Tony has ever seen, but the dark circles under his eyes hit Tony like a blow to the chest. Bucky’s hair is a mess, lines around his eyes deep and pronounced and he looks tired in a way that seeps straight down into your bones, eats you alive. Tony knows that feeling all too well, but he has no idea what to say in the face of it.

He doesn’t need to ask if Bucky is having a rough couple of days, it’s painfully obvious, and he knows Bucky isn’t going to talk about it if he doesn’t want to. And he very rarely wants to. It would certainly explain why Steve was looking for him yesterday, if Bucky has been hiding out avoiding everyone, which probably means that Bucky has been sitting out here on the roof for who knows how long and will continue sitting out here until he feels like a person again.

The fact that Bucky doesn’t say anything, doesn’t uncurl from his protective huddle against the wall, just stares up at Tony with shadowed eyes, means that he’s definitely not there yet. He barely even twitches when Tony’s stomach growls loudly, just raises one eyebrow slightly even though Tony is pretty sure that was loud enough for people down on the street to hear.

“I’m on my way right now!” Tony defends before Bucky can start making sad face at him, because that is probably the last thing Bucky needs right now, to be worrying that Tony is somehow going to starve to death without constant supervision. Bucky’s lip twitches in the barest hint of a smile, and Tony is absolutely going to count that as a win.

He’s about to leave, head inside and leave Bucky alone to his rooftop creeping, but then something occurs to him. If Bucky has been hiding out away from everyone, it stands to reason that he hasn’t been to the kitchen for food recently. There’s always someone in the kitchen. Tony hesitates for a second, and then decides fuck it. They’re friends, and fair is fair.

“Come on Snowflake,” he says firmly, no room for arguments, and holds out one hand for Bucky to take. “I’ll make you one of my specialties. Do you want a lumpy sandwich, or cold cereal?”

Bucky’s lips twitch ever so slightly further up as he takes Tony’s hand and pulls himself to his feet, and Tony is going to call that a resounding fucking victory.

-

Bucky loves sci-fi. Even worse, he loves cheesy, horrible sci-fi, and he gets a particular kick out of movies that are so inaccurate they send Bruce and sometimes even Tony into fits of rage.

It’s a serious problem, because Tony loves that Bucky loves shitty sci-fi. It’s hopelessly endearing, and Tony is pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before he full on breaks down crying at the entirely-too-adorable sight of Bucky on the couch amid a mountain of blankets, happily humming along to the Stargate Atlantis theme song. Tony is only human, okay? He’s just trying to head back to the lab with his lunch and there’s only so much he can reasonably be expected to withstand.

It’s also a problem in that Bucky tends to get caught up in binge watching something and forget about things like sleeping, or the ever important feeding his super appetite. Which Tony gets, he really does, he is no stranger to getting wrapped up in something and forgetting everything else, so instead of suggesting Bucky take a break from his marathon at least long enough to get food, Tony just shoves his own plate into Bucky’s lap and leaves his glass of water on the coffee table with a pointed look.

Then he heads back to the kitchen to make another sandwich for himself, waving off Bucky’s stuttered, surprised-sounding thanks and refusing to let himself look back.

It kind of spirals out of control from there.

-

Tony sticks his head into the gym where, sure enough, Bucky and Steve are still having their stupid push up competition.

“Let’s wrap it up boys, it’s dinner time,” he calls, and then rolls his eyes when they don’t react at all. “Seriously, you’re both impressive, you both win beefiest belle at the ball, you can punch it out later,” Tony adds as he wanders closer, “Let’s go before Thor eats everything and then comes down here to show you both up.”

“Five minutes,” Steve huffs out between push ups, “He’s about to give up.”

“Like hell,” Bucky grumbles and does his next rep one handed so he can swat at Steve. It’s unfairly distracting.

“I’m evicting both of you,” Tony says pleasantly, “Just like I threatened everyone else with eviction until they gave in and agreed to order from that Korean-Mexican fusion place you’re both so obsessed with.”

“What?!” Steve demands, pushing himself upright on his knees to fix Tony with an affronted look, “why didn’t you say that?”

“Ha! I win!” Bucky says, still doing push ups and grinning at Steve smugly.

Steve looks so horribly offended for a second that Tony can’t help snorting in laughter. Then Steve grins wickedly, shoves Bucky over, and makes a break for the door calling “I’m gonna eat all your food, then we’ll see who wins!”

“Still a sore loser,” Bucky says with a sad shake of his head, pushing himself to his feet. A couple strands of loose hair cling to his forehead and fall around his face, his thin shirt clinging to his chest just right, and Tony’s life would be so much easier if he could just not.

Bucky is staring at him, curious tilt to his head, and Tony belatedly remembers to blurt out “Don’t worry Frosted Flakes, I hid your kimchi tacos at the back of the fridge where no one can get to them. Not that I know why anyone would want to.” The wide grin that breaks out across Bucky’s face still makes Tony’s heart thump dangerously, no matter how many times Tony tries to convince himself that it doesn’t, that it won’t next time. It always does.

“Thanks Tony, you’re the best,” Bucky says, all warm and soft and genuine, bumping their shoulders together gently as he heads for the door. Tony trails after him, face flushed and chest warm, and that was totally worth all the trouble of convincing Bruce that Korean-Mexican fusion is not a crime against humanity.

-

“You need to go lay down,” Tony says for what must be the tenth time since Bucky walked into the lab.

“I’m fine,” Bucky says, again, despite the fact that he is clearly not fine.

Tony waves both hands at Bucky, trying to encompass all of him, the fact that Bucky hasn’t changed or showered since the fight when usually that’s the first thing he does, the way that he’s just kind of standing there letting the bots poke at him instead of chasing them around the lab. “I can hear your spine clicking when you move, and I have normal human ears!” Tony insists.

“No it’s not,” Bucky says, but he’s holding himself suspiciously still. When Tony just stares at him, unimpressed, he adds “it’ll heal.”

“Yeah, if you go lay the fuck down and avoid killing yourself before then,” Tony says, and only barely resists the urge to throw a bolt at him. He’s pretty sure Bucky would just let it hit him in the face right now, and that’s not what Tony is going for. No matter how well it would prove his point.

“No," Bucky says flatly. Tony throws the bolt, and Bucky winces when it bounces off his chest but otherwise refuses to move.

"Then you're going to medical," Tony says, throwing both hands in the air, "I’ll call Steve and he’ll carry you there, don’t think he won’t. He will be delighted to do it."

“I’ll throw ‘im out another window,” Bucky grumbles, and when Tony makes a show of grabbing for his phone Bucky sighs out “fine, fine, I’ll go lay down.”

"Damn straight you will," Tony grumbles under his breath and then blinks in surprise when, instead of heading for the door, maybe back to his room, Bucky slowly makes his way over to the lumpy couch in the corner.

And Tony's not complaining, it absolutely makes sense for Bucky to lay down on the nearest available flat surface, but Tony had really been expecting him to leave. Keep up that friendly distance, and all that. Instead Tony is left just staring dazedly as Bucky lowers him half down onto the couch with a level of care that completely gives away how injured he actually is.

Once Bucky is settled he turns his head where it's propped up on the armrest, only wincing a little, and stares back at Tony. There's something considering in his gaze, and he's probably trying to figure out how long it'll take before Tony gets distracted enough to not notice Bucky making his escape.

After several long seconds of mutual staring, broken only by them both glancing over when DUM-E gets tangled in the blanket he's trying to bring to Bucky and starts beeping in distress, Bucky finally breaks the silence. "Don't I get a cookie?" he asks slowly, innocently, like he has no idea that the reminder sets off an explosion in Tony's chest.

"I already gave you one of my favorite bolts, what more do you want from me?" Tony complains, turning back to his workbench so hopefully Bucky won't notice that his face has no doubt gone bright red.

"Somethin' edible, preferably," Bucky says with a soft laugh that has warmth spreading out from Tony's racing heart and mixing surprisingly well with the sudden influx of butterflies in his stomach.

Tony tells himself that it's fine. They're friends. He's glad that Bucky is comfortable enough to hang out in the lab with him again, making dumb jokes. All Tony has to do is not make it weird. Again. He can totally do that.

He doesn't have any cookies, but Tony does share his terrible energy bars, and when Bucky dares to complain about how terrible they are Tony throws a couple more bolts at him. Injured or not, he can't let that stand.

Eventually Bucky falls asleep, and Tony works as quietly as he can, and it's fine. It’s the closest to fine that Tony has felt in a long time.

-

Bucky’s nose scrunches up a little in disgust, but he doesn’t say anything. No one else seems to notice, arguing over their exact dinner order like it’s a life or death ordeal. They are all usually armed, in some way, so hell it might be life or death.

Tony slumps a little lower in his armchair, just enough that he can stretch out and kick Bucky lightly in the foot. When Bucky looks over at him Tony gives him an expectant look. When Bucky continues to stare blankly at him Tony does a little ‘go on’ motion with his head, and then kicks Bucky again. Just for good measure.

Bucky’s eyes widen, just a little, and then he blurts out “I hate sushi.” Everyone stops to stare at him, and Tony grins widely.

“What? Since when?” Sam demands, looking personally offended.

“Since always, it’s raw fish,” Bucky replies, throwing a pillow that bounces harmlessly off Thor’s head when Sam ducks. “Just get me some rice or somethin’, ‘s long as it’s cooked,” he adds and easily swats Sam’s return pillow away from him.

Steve immediately starts reading off other options from the menu, and Tony continues grinning all through the rest of the ordering process. He’s a little surprised when he looks over to find Bucky smiling back at him, something small and strangely delicate, and Tony just hopes his face isn’t as warm as it feels, hopes it doesn’t show that he’s melting inside.

-

Bucky has been giving him this look, lately, and Tony has no idea what it’s supposed to mean. It’s somewhere between surprised and considering, like he’s putting together the pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know he was looking at. It’s mildly terrifying.

If he didn’t know better, Tony would think Bucky has figured out about his super secret crush, but that can’t be right. Bucky had already figured that out... right? And if that was the case he definitely wouldn’t suddenly be hanging out with Tony more, he’d be running even further away.

Tony is kind of tempted to avoid him, avoid that look entirely, because as long as he doesn’t know what it means it can’t mean anything bad. The problem with that plan, is that Bucky is suddenly everywhere he turns.

He stumbles out of his lab and it’s like Bucky is just laying in wait so he can drag Tony to the kitchen for an impressive lunch spread. And then he hangs out, watches while Tony gorges himself on soup and sandwiches and leftover donuts, and when Tony shoves the last donut towards him Bucky’s thoughtful little smile gets wider.

Tony doesn’t know what to do with that, or what to do with the warmth that lingers in his chest all day, growing something that feels dangerously like hope. Maybe he should give that avoidance plan another shot.

-

He makes it a full day. Mostly by hiding out in his lab the whole time. When he shuffles out, rubbing at his tired eyes and aching everywhere, Bucky is there before he makes it ten steps out of the elevator onto the common floor.

“What have I told you about sleeping?’ Bucky asks with an exasperated sigh that does not at all take away from the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, both hands coming down on Tony’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks. “And don’t say ‘it’s for the weak’, or I swear...”

Tony hums thoughtfully, then grins up at Bucky, who is standing so very close. If Tony were less sleep deprived he’d probably be more worried about that, more worries about what he’s giving away as he leans into Bucky’s chest ever so slightly. “Must have escaped my mind,” he finally says, grinning wider when Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I believe it was that you need to sleep, Tony,” Bucky says and uses the hands still on his shoulders to spin Tony in place and point him back towards the elevator. He leaves his hands on Tony’s shoulders, which is probably a good thing because Tony is dimly aware of the fact that he’s swaying in place. “Go on, before your zombie face scares Bruce again,” Bucky adds with a soft laugh.

“That was one time,” Tony protests, digging in his heels as Bucky starts pushing him towards the doors, “and I’m hungry.” The last part comes out nearly as a whine, and Tony doesn’t even try to stop it because this is all Bucky’s fault in the first place. Him and his regular meal schedules, and his insisting that Tony follow them.

“Nuh uh, I know how you are,” Bucky says, giving him another little shove towards the elevator, “you’ll go to the kitchen and then you’ll get distracted and I’ll find you five hours later half asleep and having a staring contest with your reflection.”

“Again, that was one time, and I had been up for days,” Tony says with a huff, then squeaks when the heels of his worn sneakers slip against the floor and Bucky’s grip on his shoulders is the only thing that keeps him from falling on his ass.

“Go get ready for bed, doll,” Bucky says and he’s definitely laughing now, “an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to eat.”

“I want waffles,” Tony demands petulantly and finally stops leaning back against Bucky’s shoving, starts moving towards the elevator instead.

“Waffles, you got it,” Bucky says, all warm and amused, and his hands finally fall away from Tony’s shoulders. There’s a second where Tony starts to shuffle forward, elevator doors already dinging open, and he hears Bucky start to turn back down the hallway, and then Bucky’s hand lands on his head and Tony freezes in his tracks. He’s not even breathing, just holds himself perfectly still as Bucky ruffles his hair.

When Bucky steps away and his footsteps disappear down the hallway Tony is finally able to drag in a ragged breath and start his forward shuffle again. He spends the entire elevator ride thinking it’s a good thing he’s already half asleep, or he’d be really freaking out right now about what this all means.

Tony is slumped down low on his couch and poking at his phone when Bucky turns up with the promised waffles, but it’s totally worth the wait because the waffles are hot and fluffy and covered with the perfect amount of syrup. After Tony eats them all Bucky smiles at him warmly and says ‘good’, and what’s left of Tony’s poor batted soul feels like its been dipped in warm honey.

Tony doesn’t actually remember falling asleep, and he definitely doesn’t remember Bucky carrying him to bed, but he wakes up later curled under the blankets with his socks still on and oh look at that, he’s awake enough to start freaking out again.

Because Tony had been pretty sure he’d ruined everything, given himself away, and now everything is back to normal. Maybe even better. And Tony has no idea what to do. He doesn’t know what’s changed, and he doesn’t know how to not ruin it again.

-

Tony is heading for the gym, figuring he might as well accomplish something if he’s too angry to sleep at three in the morning. Sure, he’s exhausted, but maybe if he gets some of this energy out he’ll be able to sleep. And it won’t even be the first time someone has found him blissfully passed out on the gym floor in the morning.

He passes Bucky in the hallway, and it’s somehow both a surprise and not surprising at all when Bucky catches him by the forearm and pulls him to a stop. His eyes move over Tony’s face, and at least this is an expression Tony recognizes, it’s Bucky’s ‘figuring out why Tony can’t sleep’ face, and it’s a game Bucky is disturbingly good at. Even if it’s been awhile since he last played, not that Tony is letting himself think about that. Much.

“Hey freezy-pop, just heading to the gym,” Tony says and aims for an easy smile, but Bucky frowns at him and doesn’t let go. Not that Tony is actually trying to get free, that would mean losing the warmth of Bucky’s skin against his.

“People problem or math problem?” Bucky asks with a crooked little grin and Tony really hopes it doesn’t show how much it makes it heart leap that Bucky knows that.

“People problem,” Tony says before he’s even aware he’s going to say it, and then sighs as it feels like something tense inside him starts to unravel. “Huge people problem. The board is trying to slip some shady shit past me again, and I have to wait until morning to yell at them. Because I’m, and I quote, ‘not allowed to wake the old bastards up to yell at them’ any more. But I want to, I’m all riled up now and I want to bite some heads off.”

Bucky’s smile gets a little toothier and his gaze flickers down for just a second before he says “As much as I enjoy watchin’ you bite heads, prob’ly not a good idea. Might give ‘em a heart attack.”

“Which would be a bad thing, because...” Tony says and waves his hand in a ‘go on’ type motion.

“‘Cause then Pepper will kill you with her shoes,” Bucky says, very seriously, and damnit he’s right. Down to the exact threat Pepper had used, and Tony’s heart gives another little lurch.

“And that is a thing I do not want,” Tony recites with a sad little nod, and then grins when Bucky laughs. “So that’s why I’m going down to the gym. I’m going to imagine their wrinkled old faces on the punch bags. I figure hey, punching bag therapy works for Steve.”

“No it doesn’t,” Bucky says with a snort, then gives Tony’s arm a gentle little tug and says “c’mon, come watch Star Trek with me.”

“You think you can just distract me with Star Trek?” Tony demands, “because you can. What episode are you on now? Should I grab popcorn? What am I saying, of course I should grab popcorn, come on I need your hands.”

“How much popcorn you plannin’ on eating?” Bucky asks, but lets Tony start dragging him towards the kitchen with a smug little smile, like he’s getting exactly what he wanted.

Tony’s heart gives another little leap, and apparently this is his life now. If he dies tonight, it won’t be from an anger induced aneurism, it’ll be from choking on his own stupid heart just because Bucky is taking care of him again. Because Bucky is smiling at him all warm and fond and a little awed, like Tony is the one doing something amazing.

“Also, I love it when math problems keep me up, that’s the dream. The metaphorical dream, obviously,” Tony rattles as he drags Bucky along by way of Bucky’s hand still on his arm, just firm enough to not lose his grip, thumb stroking over the inner bend of Tony’s elbow as he lets out an amused hum.

Bucky doesn’t let go even as they settle onto the couch with their own bowls of popcorn, just shifts his grip down to Tony’s wrist instead, tap his finger against the wild flutter of Tony’s pulse in time with the opening theme. Tony shovels more popcorn into his mouth, mocks the questionable science until Bucky starts good-naturedly shoulder checking him, and doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky’s hand on his wrist is leaching all the tension out of his body better than anything else ever has.

And Tony especially doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky is giving him that look again. Like he’s solving some kind of riddle. Or maybe like he’s already solved it, and he’s just waiting for Tony to ask about the answer. But Tony is terrified to ask, because fuck he doesn’t want to be wrong. Even more terrifying, he’s starting to think he might not be.

-

Tony isn’t sure how Pepper convinced literally all of the Avengers to dress up to the nines and show up for the fanciest and most painful charity gala of the year. She even got Clint into a tux. Tony does know how she convinced him, at least, which was with threats to both his person and his cars. It was very effective.

Tony is still pondering the mystery as he heads for the common room to round up the rest of the unwilling ceremonial social sacrifices, and instead finds only Bucky struggling with his bow tie. “Either I’m late, or everyone else is extremely late,” Tony says and doesn’t even try to hide his wide grin as he watches Bucky nearly strangle himself.

“It’s both,” Bucky grumbles, yanking at the ends of the bow tie so aggressively Tony is a little surprised the poor thing doesn’t tear, “Some of ‘em were here, but then Bruce spilled his tea all over him an’ Clint, an’ Steve laughed so hard he ripped his shirt. So they all went to change. I think Nat left without us.” Bucky drops his hands to his side and scowls at this reflection in the mirror above the bar, at the lopsided bow hanging loose around his neck.

“That’s why she’s Pepper’s favorite,” Tony says, laughing as much at the story as the defeated slump of Bucky’s shoulders as he starts unknotting the bow tie again. Before Tony can think better of it he’s stepping closer and tugging at Bucky’s arm, all wrapped up in soft black fabric that somehow makes his arms look thicker. “Stop, stop, you’re killing the poor thing,” he says as he grabs for the tie with his free hand.

“Good,” Bucky says with a pout that has no right being so adorable on someone so lethal, “I dunno why it’s bein’ so difficult. I can do a tie no problem, but this?” He whips the bow tie off his neck and eagerly shoves it into Tony’s hand as he declares “bow ties are bullshit. Do you have a clip on around here?”

“Bite your tongue, you heathen,” Tony tells him seriously and forces himself to let go of Bucky’s arm, only dragging his fingers along Bucky’s firm bicep a little in the process. Then he takes a deep breath and steps forward a little closer, until they’re pressed practically chest to chest, and says “Here, let me help you with this before you somehow injure yourself with neckwear.”

“Please,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh, his hand brushing over Tony’s hip just for a second before falling to his side. “I swear I’ve tried fifty times now, you’re my only hope. You always clean up so nice an’ I’m just tryin’ not to make a fool of myself.”

Tony tries to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him. Later, he can work himself up into knots over the fact that Bucky thinks he cleans up nice, thinks he always cleans up nice, like Bucky has been thinking it for a while. But that’s for later, for now he just has to focus on getting this bow tie in place so they can all get over to the stupid gala and live through the stupid night. And then he can go back to his stupid panicked pining.

Focusing on the bow tie turns out to be a little difficult though, because all Tony wants to focus on is Bucky standing so incredibly close to him, the way Bucky is looking at him, eyes half lidded and chin tipped up to give Tony better access to his throat. His first attempt looks even worse, too tight and the bow lopsided, and Bucky barks out a laugh.

“Do you actually know what you’re doing?” Bucky demands, play-swatting at Tony’s stomach, “Are you wearing a clip on?”

“You take that back!” Tony squawks, swatting back at him before he starts aggressively undoing the bow tie again. He needs to get it together, because the longer this takes him the longer he’s standing all up in Bucky’s space, and the more of a blushing mess he’s going to become. And if Bucky hasn’t figured him out already, which is something Tony still can’t get a definite, undeniable read on, then Bucky definitely will now.

Especially because Bucky keeps his head tipped back and smiles lazily in a way that has Tony’s stomach clinging up tight as he asks “Are you trying to kill me, is that what’s happening here?”

“Yes dear,” Tony says, sickeningly sweet, and gives an extra hard tug at one end of the tie, “I’m trying to kill you with a bow tie. Slowly.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, but his smirk gets wider and wider and finally Tony huffs out “Turn around, I can’t work like this.”

“Sure, much easier to strangle me from behind,” Bucky says agreeably as he spins in place to face the mirror again, and his reflection fixes Tony with an expectant look.

Before he can talk himself out of it Tony steps forward and up onto his toes, hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder to properly see what he’s doing in the mirror, and brings both arms up over Bucky’s shoulders. From this angle it only takes a couple seconds to get the bow tie perfectly centered and secured around Bucky’s neck, just like it only takes a couple seconds for Tony’s pulse to jump up to truly unsafe levels.

“There, told you I know what I’m doing,” he says with a smug grin and then can’t quite seem to pull himself away, can’t seem to break eye contact with Bucky’s reflection.

“Looks perfect, thanks doll,” Bucky says, low and warm, and raises one hand to gently grab Tony’s forearm where it’s still draped over his chest. Like he doesn’t want Tony to pull away.

“So how did Pepper talk you into this?” Tony blurts, which, all things considered, is probably the least damaging thing he could blurt out right about now.

“She pointed out that if the Avengers look good, it helps your company look good,” he says, like that’s any kind of explanation, still staring Tony right in the eye like that’s supposed to mean something.

“That- that’s not- what-,” Tony says, startled, taking an instinctive step back. Bucky doesn’t let go of his arm, just turns back to face him with his mouth already open to protest. “Seriously,” Tony says, cutting him off and feeling a little frantic for reasons he can’t name, doesn’t want to name, “That’s not something you need to worry about, what- why would that-“

“Hey,” Bucky says, soft like Tony is some kind of spooked animal, which, okay, that feels pretty fair right now. When Bucky gives his arm a little tug Tony steps closer, completely helpless against it. Then Bucky’s other hand is on his face, fingertips just barely brushing Tony’s cheek, the line of his throat, and cool metal thumb pressed oh-so-gently beneath Tony’s chin nudging his head up to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Hey,” he says again, “I want t’ make you look good, okay? ‘S the least we can do after all you do to make us look good. ‘Cause I know that can’t be easy.”

Tony just gapes uselessly for a second, breath caught in his chest, and he’s not sure when he grabbed two handfuls of Bucky’s tux jacket, but he doesn’t think he could let go if he tried. Finally he manages to drag in a shaking break and stutter out “w-we?”

Bucky smirks a little wider, taps his thumb against Tony’s chin, and confesses “I may have helped Pepper ‘talk’ some of ‘em into it.”

And Tony is right back to useless gaping, because what the fuck is he supposed to do with that?! Tony has never expected the rest of the team to worry about the effect their Avenging has on SI, that’s his responsibility, his problem to deal with, and he has the growing feeling that Bucky is trying to tell him something here but Tony is too busy trying not to hyperventilate to figure out what the fuck it is-

“I’m about to enter the common room!” Comes a sudden shout from the hallway, and Tony startles so hard that Bucky’s hand still on his arm is the only thing that keeps him from toppling over. “Please no one throw tea at me this time!” The voice continues and oh, that’s Clint. Of course, because they’re waiting for the rest of the team. Who will be here any minute, and Tony should probably get it together already.

“That was your own fault, an’ I think you know it,” Bucky calls back, smiling just a little ruefully as he drops his hands back to his sides. Tony untangles his hands from Bucky’s jacket and has to resist the urge to smooth out the slight wrinkles he’s left in the lapels.

“Now hold on just a minute,” Clint says as he bursts into the room to defend himself, wrinkled suit jacket only half on and waving a finger at Bucky and Tony sees his chance.

Tony runs. Sure, he says he’s going to get Bruce, but it is absolutely just a cowardly flee. He just needs a minute, he just needs to breathe, needs to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do with all the hope growing wild and unchecked in his lungs.

-

Tony gets home from a business trip and he honestly has no idea what time it is. He doesn’t even know what day it is, the only things he knows are that he’s jet lagged as all hell, and that he just wants to sleep.

When he gets to the penthouse there’s takeout from his favorite Italian place waiting on the table, still warm. There’s also a note that says ‘be a good boy and eat before you pass out for 12 hours’. It’s not signed, but at this point it really doesn't need to be.

He honestly doesn’t know what he’s expecting at this point, when he send a photo of the empty containers to Bucky with the caption ‘I want a cookie when I wake up.’

What Tony gets is an almost immediate response in the form of a picture of one of those chocolate-and-peanut-butter monstrosities that he loves, followed by a text that says ‘see you in 13 hours sweet thing’.

Tony wakes up almost exactly thirteen hours later, and he’s so far past wondering how Bucky does that. He’s also so far past his ‘avoid Bucky’ plan, all he wants to do is go find Bucky, get his cookie, and maybe even get the feeling of Bucky’s fingers ruffling his hair again.

So he does.

-

He’s heading for the elevator to leave for a press conference when Bucky and Natasha suddenly appear in his way, arms crossed and matching terrifying assassin glowers on their faces.

“Seriously, bells,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with the hand not clutching his to-go cup, “bells for everybody, I can’t live like this. I have a heart condition.”

They don’t laugh, but it’s not the usual ‘Tony please don’t joke about your heart condition’ not-laughing, and Tony is instantly on high alert, because something is going on here and he has a feeling he’s not going to like it.

The feeling only gets stronger when Bucky actually hesitates before slowly saying “I know you already talked t’ Pepper about this-“

“No,” Tony says instantly and he can’t believe he ever thought it was kind of sweet that Bucky talks to Pepper, that was clearly going to come back to bite him in the ass some day. Sure enough Natasha pulls out the very same body armor shirt Pepper had been waving at him this morning and Tony groans out “no.”

“You’re wearing the armor,” Natasha says flatly, and it’s completely unsurprising that she’s the one playing bad cop here.

“I am not wearing the armor,” Tony returns, just as flat, “because why would I? It’s a press conference, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could get shot again,” Bucky bursts out and his face is doing something truly fascinating, like he’s cycling through emotions too quickly for any of them to properly settle.

Tony can’t help rolling his eyes a little, because are they still on that? “What’re the odds that’ll happen again?” he says dismissively, “Smart assassins never try the same move twice, you know that frosty.”

Bucky’s face twitches harder and okay, apparently they are not yet to the point of joking about Tony’s recent gunshot wounds. Noted. “If you don’t wear the armor? Odds’re pretty damn high,” he growls out and yep, he’s even got his angry-eyebrows on. That’s usually reserved for Steve-levels of stupidity.

“You made this, it's the same material you use for all our gear,” Natasha points out, and okay, maybe she’s not ‘bad cop’ so much as ‘rational cop’. She holds the armor out to him, one eyebrow raised, and demands “are you saying it’s not good enough?”

“That is not what I’m saying, and I think you know it,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes because oh, that’s a low blow, how dare she imply he’d put his team in anything but the best. Her challenging smirk only gets wider, so Tony sniffs and drags his free hand over his chest as he says “I just don’t want to ruin the lines of my suit.”

“It’s the size of an undershirt, your figure will be fine,” Natasha says, but her lips twitch ever so slightly upwards.

Bucky remains staunchly unamused. “Yeah, I’m just gonna put the armor on you myself,” he says with a decisive nod, and Natasha gleefully hands it over.

“I’ll throw my coffee on you,” Tony warns, holding it up like a shield and taking a step back, “it won’t accomplish much, but then you’ll have to listen to me bitch about how I don’t have my coffee anymore. I might even cry.” Bucky keeps advancing on him, armor in hand and a determined look in his eye, so Tony pretends to fumble with the lid of his cup and warns “I’m talking ugly crying here, Bucky-bear, you’ve seen me without my coffee, it’ll be embarrassing for everyone, and-“

"Tony," Bucky snaps, standing right in front of him now, voice low and rough and cracking ever so slightly, "be a good boy and wear the damn armor!”

Tony's stupid heart trips all over itself. Natasha is somehow suddenly all the way down the hall, pointedly ignoring them while sipping Tony’s coffee, and when did she even steal that, and she is very clearly blocking Tony’s escape route. Not that Tony could actually flee right now if he wanted to, he’s much too busy just trying to stay standing under the force of the hot flush that rushes over him, stomach clenching hard and blood roaring in his ears. Tony can’t find the air to reply, can only stare, and Bucky’s face crumples a little further.

“Please, doll? I gotta know you’re safe, I can’t-'' Bucky cuts himself off, clenching his jaw, and Tony feels some confusing mix of horrified and elated. Because of course he feels terrible that he’s the reason for the terrified, pleading look in Bucky’s eyes, the reason Bucky’s right hand trembles slightly as he gives the body armor held between them a little shake. But on the other hand, Tony is the one who made Bucky look like that, cracked open and vulnerable, Tony did that. And oh, he knows that Bucky is letting it show, for him, it’s a gift that he hears the way Bucky’s breath hitches as he pleads “Just- jus’ do this for me? Be good and wear th’ damn armor so I can feel like you’re safe, will you do that?”

Fuck, Tony is pretty sure he’s going to die, he’s pretty sure the entire tower can hear the way his heart is racing in his chest, He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond to that, because all he really wants to do is take that single step it would require to bury his face in Bucky’s chest. But Tony knows he has to say something, anything, Bucky is still staring at him like he’s waiting for an answer, and it nearly knocks him off his feet all over again when he realizes Bucky has been waiting for an answer from him for a while now.

"O-okay," Tony finally manages, voice weak around the way his heart is lodged somewhere in this throat and already shrugging off his jacket so he can just take the stupid god damn armor.

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, voice pitched low, gaze heavy, so much in that simple question. It’s so new and so familiar and Tony is already nodding because oh fuck yes, anything Bucky is offering, anything he wants, yes.

Tony has to swallow thickly a couple times before he can actually say “Yeah, I- I can do that. Wearing the armor, being safe.” Being good, he doesn’t say, but Bucky’s eyes darken like he heard it anyways. Once Tony has finished tugging off his jacket and tie Bucky takes them from his shaking hands, and Tony can only manage a vague huff of protest as Bucky carelessly drapes them over his own shoulder and makes an impatient gesture with his free hand.

And here’s the thing, Tony is not generally what people would call ‘shy’. He left his shame far behind him about a decade or two ago and never looked back. But it’s Bucky, and he just keeps staring as Tony starts fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and Tony has a terrible feeling the flush on his face is spreading down his neck. He’s more or less gotten used to the scars that litter his torso, his teammates have all seen them and on a good day Tony even forgets they exist. He’s still getting used to the three new freshly-healed bullet holes scattered across his stomach, so of course that’s right where Bucky’s eyes settle and it’s all Tony can do not to fidget, not to snatch his shirt back out of Bucky’s hand.

Bucky’s fingers are warm as they trace over the shiny new skin, ticklishly light and unbearably gentle. “Jus’ wanna feel like I’m protectin’ you,” he says, voice barely more than a sigh, and Tony wants to protest that it’s not his fault but he can’t find the air. Instead all he can do is nod, scared to breathe too hard in case it dislodges Bucky’s fingers from tracing the edges of each slightly raised scar. Tony can’t help the soft noise he makes when Bucky’s hand falls back to his side, already mourning the loss of contact, and Bucky smirks just a little as he says “Arms up, babydoll.”

Tony definitely hears Natasha snort, somewhere down the hallway, but it’s pretty low on the scale of her ‘insulting snorts’ and Tony really doesn’t care right now. He’s too busy throwing his arms up so quickly that it’s a miracle he doesn’t smack Bucky in the face or dislocate his shoulder or something equally ridiculous. Bucky smirks a little wider but doesn’t say anything, just carefully slips the deceptively thin body armor onto Tony’s arms and then gently lowers it down over his head.

Bucky makes sure the armor is pulled all the way down, big hands running over Tony’s hips and the small of his back, and then hands back Tony’s shirt. “There y’ go, nice and safe for me,” Bucky says almost absently as he fixes Tony’s hair and Tony is mostly still just marveling at the open relief in Bucky’s eyes.

“You’re only paranoid because I’m an average squishy human,” Tony tries to accuse, mostly to distract from the way his hands are shaking as he does up his buttons, but it comes out wobbly because even he doesn't believe that anymore.

Bucky’s lips quirk up like he knows Tony doesn’t really think that, but he still says “Nah, I worry cuz its you,” voice soft, like he needs to be sure that Tony knows. His eyes are dark as he watches Tony settle the knot of his tie against the hollow of his throat, and Tony’s hands are shaking so badly that Bucky has to help him get his jacket back in place. “Didn’t even ruin th’ lines of your suit,” he adds with a smug little grin, running both wide palms down Tony’s chest, fingers spread wide, and there’s no way he can’t feel the way Tony’s heart is trying to beat straight out of his chest.

“Lucky for you,” Tony says, voice equally soft, and when Bucky’s hands fall away he drags in a ragged breath.

“Lucky me,” Bucky repeats absently, like he’s talking about something else entirely, and then leans forward. His grip is firm but gentle as he cups the back of Tony’s head with one hand, his lips are dry and soft against Tony’s temple, and Tony freezes up all over again. “Thank you, Tony,” he whispers, lips moving against Tony’s skin and sending shivers down his spine, “always so good for me.”

Tony makes a sound that he refuses to categorize as a whimper, and Bucky pulls away smiling amused and warm and amazed. When Tony steps onto the elevator he’s still trying to catch his breath, but his hands are steady.

-

“You should date me,” Tony blurts out that night, because he can’t not, anymore. Because he’d smiled like a loon all the way through the press conference, face still warm, and at the end Pepper had asked him if he had a concussion, half serious and half knowingly smug. Because the warm flutter in his chest still hasn’t faded. Because Bucky has been giving him that look, and Tony thinks he’s finally figured it out.

Bucky just blinks at him for a second, and okay yeah, maybe Tony could have picked a slightly better place than the middle of the kitchen. At one in the morning. When they’re both in worn pajamas, odds are unfortunately pretty good that Tony has the remains of his PB&J sandwich smeared around his mouth.

He probably could have picked some better words too, so Tony scrambles desperately for some and all he comes up with is “Or, I should date you. We should date each other. No, I mean- yes, but- fuck-“

“Yeah,” Bucky says, cutting him off and still blinking at him like he’s vaguely dazed. “Yeah, we- us. Dating. Yes. Okay.”

Tony blinks back at him, because that sounded a lot like Bucky agreeing to date him, but it also sounds a lot like he just broke Bucky’s brain. “Are you sure?” Tony has to ask, shuffling on his feet a little, “Because-“

“What- yes,” Bucky says, surprisingly vehement, lurching up from the stool he’s been sitting on. Tony dares to let a wide smile start spreading across his face. Still-

“I’ll be a good boyfriend,” he offers helpfully, and really wishes he could sound more sure of that. He’s damn sure going to do his best.

Bucky is up and across the kitchen in an instant, taking Tony’s face in his big, deadly, gentle hands and breathing out “Tony.” He’s moved from looking dazed to looking something almost like awed and he says “Tony, doll, you are already so good to me, I just want you.”

Tony shudders all over and he’s not sure when his hands landed on Bucky’s waist but he’s holding on for dear life. “Bucky,” he sighs, and then, because he’s weak, he begs “Say it again.”

And oh, Tony just knew that Bucky knew what he was doing, and he gets his proof because instantly Bucky tightens his grip, drags his fingers along the hollows behind Tony’s ears. “Gonna be my good boy, yeah?” he asks, breath hot against Tony’s lips, eyes dark and intent, smirk to die for.

“Oh,” Tony gasps and when he shivers Bucky just holds him tighter, pulls him closer, until Tony’s eyes fall closed and he’s clinging helplessly to the broad muscle of Bucky’s back. “I- oh,” he gasps again when Bucky’s thumbs trace along his cheekbones, barely catching his eyelashes, and Bucky’s answering laugh is everything. It’s happy and amazed in a way that makes Tony's chest warm and fluttery, dark and just a little condescending in a way that makes his guy tighten up in heated want.

“I see you, Tony,” Bucky says, low and rough and insistent, “I see everything you do for us, for everyone.” His lips trace the line of Tony’s brow in soft, feather-light kisses, and his voice is barely more than a breath when he adds “For me. Gonna be good an’ let me take care of you back?”

Tony is caught between the urge to nod frantically and the need to stay exactly where he is, Bucky’s hands cupping his face like the most precious thing he’s ever held, so instead he croaks out “Yeah, I- I can- fuck I want that.” Tony cracks his eyes open again, because it’s overwhelming, and he doesn’t want to miss it.

Bucky smiles, happy and proud and heated and a million other things that have warmth spreading through Tony’s chest, curling up tight in his gut, lighting up his entire body. “Can I kiss you, baby?” he asks, lips nearly close enough to touch already, and when Tony throws himself forward Bucky catches him easily, left hand sliding to the small of Tony’s back and pulling him in closer.

The first press of lips is electric, has Tony sighing out a soft noise and then Bucky’s hand still cupping his jaw tilts his head a little further back and Bucky licks his way into his mouth with a slow, consuming determination. Tony clings harder to Bucky’s shirt where it stretches tight across his shoulders and hangs on for all he’s worth, tries to catch Bucky’s tongue between his teeth and shudders when Bucky growls low in his throat.

Bucky’s thigh slots between Tony’s like it belongs there and Tony breaks away from the kiss with a shaking groan as he abruptly realizes that he’s achingly hard, soft cotton of his sweats damp and clinging and amazing. “O-oh, shit-“ Tony gasps out, helpless against the way his hips jerk forwards just once to grind himself against that thick thigh. “God, Bucky-“ he whines, ducking his head to pant against the curve of Bucky’s shoulder and then bites back a desperate noise when Bucky’s thigh nudges up against him a little harder.

“Tha’s real sweet baby, sound so good,” Bucky sighs out as his lips move over Tony’s hairline, down his temple, his breath as heated as his words. He shifts his hand a little lower, spreads his fingers wide over the curve of Tony’s ass and pulls him in encouragingly as he growls “C’mon doll, don’t stop, lemme hear you makin' all those pretty noises for me.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice, rolls his hips forward again with another muffled groan. “Bucky, oh my god-“ he whines and presses closer, until he can feel Bucky’s cock nudged up thick and hot against his hip. His legs shake and he just clenches them tighter around Bucky’s thigh, tucks his face into Bucky’s throat and grinds himself forward. The sweet friction against his cock has Tony gasping again, shuddering all over as fire races up his spine and his head spins.

“Good, so good sweet thing, fit so perfect against me, gonna take such good care of you, treat you just right,” Bucky says against the shell of his ear and presses his thigh up a little further, digs his metal fingers a little harder into the swell of Tony’s ass and pulls in time with the roll of Tony’s hips against him. When Tony moans and clutches at him tighter Bucky chuckles again, low and dark, and drags his calloused thumb along the line of Tony’s jaw as he asks ”Damn you’re easy for me, ain’t ya? Gonna come like this, grindin’ against me all desperate and shakin’ for it?”

It sends another wave of heated, slightly-embarrassed arousal crashing over Tony and all he can do is whine again because unless Bucky is planning on stopping him, then he absolutely is. At this point Tony couldn't stop himself if he wanted to, cock throbbing and leaking as he grinds himself against Bucky’s thigh, panting hot against the curve of Bucky’s throat.

He can already feel his orgasm building fast, feels like it’s been building forever now, and his voice is shaking as hard as the rest of him as he moans out “Bucky- please, I- I’m, I can’t, please-“ Bucky silences him with a scrape of his teeth over the shell of Tony’s ear that has him practically collapsing against Bucky’s chest, limp except for the way he can’t stop rutting himself against Bucky’s thigh, chasing the sparks that light up his body.

Bucky laughs again, just a low, warm rumble in his chest, and presses another kiss to Tony’s eyebrow before saying “You’re this worked up you better come for me now, babydoll. ‘Cuz I’m gonna take you upstairs an’ take my time with you, make you feel as good as you deserve an’ put you to bed real sweet, how does that sound baby?”

He somehow makes it sound like both a promise and a threat, and Tony chokes out a noise caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. “Y-yeah, fuck yeah that- oh- fuck please-“ Bucky’s fingers press a little more firmly against the base of his skull, sliding through his hair, and Tony feels like he’s burning.

“Good,” Bucky says, an uneven hitch to his breath and Tony can feel the way Bucky’s cock throbs against him, “Fuck, you’re so good sweet thing, so perfect, feel so good, sounds so sweet for me, c’mon Tony, wanna feel you fall apart for me.”

Every word settles hot in Tony’s gut, has his head spinning faster until all he knows is Bucky’s voice in his ear, Bucky’s hands firm and demanding against him, the rush of his own blood in his ear as the pressure builds inside him. His sweats are going to be ruined and Tony doesn’t give a fuck because he’s so close, thin cotton already soaked and clinging to his cock, thrusts of his hips gone short and uncoordinated as his fingers scramble at Bucky’s back.

“Bucky,” he moans out, completely shameless, and drags his teeth over the line of Bucky’s throat, just because he can. Because Tony still kind of can’t believe the way Bucky shakes and groans against him, pulls him in harder and meets every roll of Tony’s hips with one of his own. “God, you’re so- I, I can’t believe- oh- Wanted you so long-“

“I know,” Bucky says, surprisingly soft and something almost like sheepish. He presses his thumb a little harder to the underside of Tony’s chin and tips his head up again, making Tony gasp at the rush of cool air over his flushed face even as he keeps his eyes squeezed shut because it’s so much. He’s so close to breaking apart at every seam. Bucky’s lips brush against his and Tony whimpers even as Bucky says “I see you now baby, been taking care of me for so long, haven’t you? Been so good, takin’ care of yourself so perfect for me, shit- you’re so good for me doll.”

“Bucky,” he gasps again, so close to the edge, every inch of him tingling, burning, so close-

“Look at me, Tony,” Bucky says, barest edge of a demand to his voice and it still has Tony prying his eyes open instantly. Then he groans weakly because Bucky is right there, blue eyes gone nearly dark, wild and hungry and fixed on him like there’s nothing else in the world as he breathes out “now be a good boy and come for me.”

Tony’s orgasm hits him overwhelming and inevitable, leaves him moaning breathlessly and clinging to Bucky impossibly tighter. Bucky’s hand on his ass keeps pulling him in, dragging it out until Tony is shaking and nearly sobbing into the feather light brush of Bucky’s lips against his own as Bucky calls him ‘good’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘gorgeous’.

As soon as he gets back the bare minimum brain cells Tony tips his chin up to kiss Bucky again, blissed out and lazy and it makes him shiver all over again when Bucky clutches at him tighter with a deep groan. Tony has to break away from the kiss sooner than he’d like because he still hasn’t quite caught his breath, hasn’t been able to get his hips to stop twitching forward as aftershocks race through him.

“Damn,” Bucky sighs, one hand petting at Tony’s hair and the other gentling against his waist as Tony slumps against him fully, “Good boy, so good baby, so perfect for me. Let’s get you up into bed, huh? Spread you out real nice and get my mouth on every inch of you.”

And that sounds good, it really does, but Tony can still feel Bucky’s cock thick and hard and throbbing against his hip, and he wants it now. So instead Tony drops to his knees, moving quick enough that he slides easily out of Bucky’s lax grip, presses his face to Bucky’s hip and nuzzles his cheek against the clear outline of Bucky cock through his thin pajamas.

“Fuck-“ Bucky gasps and his fingers tighten in Tony’s hair, holding him in place as his hips jerk forwards. “Damn what a sight you make, you want it that bad, doll?”

Tony turns his head just enough to look up at Bucky, lips moving against the hard line of Bucky’s cock, and he’s never meant anything more as he breathes out “Please, honey.”

Bucky’s eyes get impossibly darker and his cock throbs, the scent of him thick and heady and Tony’s mouth is watering. “We’re still in the kitchen, baby,” Bucky points out, but he’s already hooking his thumb into the front of his pants.

“I can be quick,” Tony promises, smirking a little because Bucky’s hips keep twitching forward against him, parajams visibly wet where they pull tight over the head of his cock, and this isn’t going to take long at all. And Tony really, really doesn’t care right now that he’s in the kitchen in a tower full of insomniacs, all he cares about his getting his mouth on Bucky, making Bucky feel as amazing as he does.

Bucky groans out something that was probably meant to be Tony’s name, but Tony has more important things to focus on because Bucky shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring free and Tony wastes no time trying to choke himself on it. He’s so loose-limbed and orgasm-dazed that when Bucky’s cock nudges at the back of his throat Tony just keeps going, only gags a little even as his eyes water and a whine builds in his chest.

“Oh- fuck Tony, so good, you’re so good baby, so- fuck-“ Bucky’s every word comes out rough and gasping and his fingers dig harder into the back of Tony’s neck, hips jerking forward like he just can’t help himself.

Tony moans encouragingly and clings to his hips, presses his nose to Bucky’s stomach and swallows around his cock. Bucky pulls back and then thrusts himself deep into Tony’s throat with another shuddering groan. Then he does it again, and again, until Tony has spit and precome sliding down his chin and arousal building again, almost painful, in his gut.

“Good, fuck you feel so good, you’re so- Tony-“ The way Bucky groans out the compliments, practically snarls his name, sends a hot shiver down Tony’s spine and has shaking all over again.

There’s a desperate moan caught in Tony’s chest that comes bursting out of him when Bucky abruptly tightens his fingers in Tony’s hair and yanks him back, leaves Tony panting for breath. His protest dies away when he opens his eyes and meets Bucky’s gaze, dark and ravenous.

“Open up, sweet thing,” Bucky growls, metal hand flying over his cock and his other hand still holding Tony in place, so close to the flushed, leaking head of Bucky’s cock and yet so far.

Tony doesn’t even need to think before he lets his aching jaw fall all the way open and he doesn’t care that his face is wet, constant pleading noises slipping out of his raw throat. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling on the hard tile of the kitchen with his own come cooling in his sweats, all he cares about is getting more.

“Good boy,” Bucky gasps, and then finally comes. It streaks warm across Tony’s chin, the bridge of his nose, into his open mouth, and Tony lets his eyes fall closed again with a pleased moan as he runs his tongue over his lip, chasing the musky taste of him. “Fuck- shit, oh, Tony-“ the way Bucky groans out his name is going to stick with Tony for a long, long time, ringing in his ears, lighting him up, and Tony wants to hear it forever.

He’s still catching his breath when Bucky pulls him to his feet, into his arms, and Tony is all too happy to wrap his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, his shaking legs around Bucky’s waist, and let Bucky take his weight. “Okay, now we can go upstairs,” Tony slurs out as he drops his forehead to Bucky’s shoulder, voice rough, still feeling like he’s floating on air.

Bucky laughs, quiet and rumbling, and his hand is so gentle on the back of Tony’s head again as he tucks Tony’s face down into the curve of his neck. It’s definitely smearing Bucky’s shirt in come but if Bucky doesn’t mind then Tony certainly doesn’t care, just snuggles in closer and wonders if it’s actually possible for his heart to swell straight out of his chest.

“Whatever you want, babydoll,” Bucky says, warm and fond, presses a quick kiss to the side of Tony’s head and then starts carrying him towards the elevators. “Gonna take such good care of you, my good boy.”

Tony is pretty sure it’s not physically possible to get any closer, but he wraps himself tighter around Bucky and gives it his best shot and he mumbles “Gonna take care of you back.”

“I know you are, sweet thing, ‘s what makes you amazing,” Bucky says with another warm laugh, and Tony could probably argue that, because he’s really not, but he decides to let Bucky have this one.

For now. Apparently, they’ll have plenty of time to debate it later, over dates, and Tony is so looking forward to it.

-

Tony wakes up sore in places he didn’t even know he had, teeth marks on his shoulders and stubble burn on his thighs and just- deliriously happy. He can’t even try to convince himself it was some kind of crazy dream, because the physical evidence is kind of overwhelming. The other half of his bed is still warm, and there’s a telling clattering sound coming from his kitchen, and Tony decides he can afford to let himself lay here grinning at the ceiling like a loon for a while.

Soon enough Bucky is back with a giant plate of waffles and a wide smile, pausing in the doorway to drag his eyes down Tony’s bare chest. His hair is a mess and he’s unbearably gorgeous, and Tony smiles back as he realizes he can say it now.

“A beautiful man and breakfast? Help, my heart can’t take it,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with one hand even as he makes grabby motions at Bucky with the other.

“Not funny,” Bucky says, but he’s laughing as he sets the plate down on the nightstand and crawls back into bed, into Tony’s arms, and he’s still smiling softly when Tony pulls him into a kiss.

[nanasarea]

🇨‌🇦‌🇧‌🇮‌🇳

❆Prompt: your friends asked you to stay with them in a cabin for a bit of a vacation and you obviously cant say no to them

❆Genre: fluff

❆Pairing: reader x best friend!nct (dream focus)

❆Word count: 2.6k (ok longest fic I see you)

❆a/n: this was so fun to write and now I'm crying I want this also I might make a summer edition once it gets hotter bc I have IDEAS now

ALSO NOT PROOFREAD

❆Tag list: @bumblebeenct​ @socketpunch​

❆TW: toy gun (?), German, swearing (?) idk not much haha

“Get in, loser, we’re going out of our minds!” Donghyuck yelled from the bus. 

You had agreed to spend the weekend with your friends at a cabin in the woods. 

They all got some time off and wanted to spend some time throwing snow balls at each other and building snowmen, but they couldn't do that without you. 

It was Friday, the day of departure. You had just gotten a text to come outside from Jeno a few minutes ago and there you were, staring at the big bus with 23 grown men, which would otherwise be terrifying, but since it was them, it seemed fun, and only a tiny bit terrifying. 

“Haven't you already?” You yelled back as you walked towards the bus and saw Johnny step out of the bus to help you with your bags and before you could say that you got it, they were already put away on the bus. 

“Thanks.” You smiled at him, your neck slightly hurting from the angle you had to put it in, in order to look at him.

“Don't mention it. Or do, if you must.” He said dramatically and gestured for you to get on the bus before him. You stepped into the bus and Johnny soon followed. 

Immediately, you were greeted by Doyoung, who was sitting at the front with Taeyong, who asked you about how you were and if you slept well.

You quickly greeted back and told them you were great and that you couldn't sleep that well, because you were excited. Before you could ask them the same, YangYang yelled for you to come over to the back as Hyuck pulled you after him. 

You tried to greet as many people as you could before getting to the back, where Yangyang sat with Renjun, Haechan and Hendery. Hyuck quickly sat down on the far left, right next to Renjun. 

Next to Renjun was a free seat, and next to that one Yangyang, with Hendery at the far right. Renjun and Yangyang both patted at the seat and smiled at you, waiting for you to sit between them.

“I’m guessing my plan of a quiet ride was doomed from the start.” You dramatically sighed as you sat down between the two. 

“That was never an option and you know it.” Hyuck laughed, causing all 5 of you to chuckle.

You spent a good 40 minutes talking to Yangyang and Hendery as Renjun and Hyuck debated about something next to you, before you made the first stop. 

“About 10 minutes and then if you're not back on the bus, we shall leave without you, except for you, Jisung, we love you and would never leave you.” Johnny said before the group chuckled as Jisung got embarrassed.

You swear you could hear Chenle’s “of course we would, we have terrible memory.” and Jisung sighing before Renjun dragged you off the bus. 

You got off the bus and were met with Jaemin, who looked like he was about to kill someone, and Jeno, who looked he was trying his best for Jaemin not to give in. 

“Good morning.” You said “Whats so good about it?” Jaemin sighed, leaning against the bus and throwing his head back. 

You looked over at Jeno and tried to contain your laugh, to which he only mouthed “No coffee yet”. You nodded, chuckling a bit before following Shotaro, Hendery and Kun, who went to go get coffee for everyone. 

You barely got your own cup into your hands before you were pulled away from the three and into the store.

“Yn, come with me, I need it.” Hyuck said. “Need what?” You asked, following close behind. 

He didn't comment, he just dragged you to the toy section and showed you the toy gun. 

“You need a toy gun?” You asked “Yes.” He sassed “Its so pretty.” He explained “And it has fake bullets!” He added, excitedly. 

“Very nice, Hyuck. Here’s a deal, I’ll buy you the extra bullets if you promise not to use the gun on me.” You said, knowing very well that you need to make a deal beforehand.

“Deal.” He smiled, shaking your hand. 

Once you finished at the check out, you saw Jaemin pinching Jisung’s cheeks while Chenle and Jeno had their heads in their hands, they weren't surprised, but still a tad disappointed. 

“How many coffees did I miss?” You asked, causing Jeno to chuckle before returning to his disappointment. 

You stood outside of the bus for a while, talking to Chenle about his dog, well, him talking and showing you photos of Daegal while you listened and admired.

“Can I be her godparent?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as Xiaojun’s head turned to you. “Godly parent?” He asked.

“God parent, but while we’re on the topic-” “DONT GET HIM STARTED, IM SITTING NEXT TO HIM AND I WANT TO SLEEP.” Kun cut you off.

“Haha, old man.” Lucas laughed before Kun looked at him and sighed. “I didn't sign up for this, I just wanted to sing.” He sighed. “You love us and you know it!” Yangyang teased. 

After a minute, you returned back to your seat and watched as Hyuck put the bullets into the gun already. 

You pulled out your phone and put in your headphones, before Renjun came up to you and took them away from you and put them in his pocket. 

“Hey!” you protested. “Wait a bit.” He said, laughing and sitting next to you.

“Now, is everyone awake?” Johnny asked, standing up once again. “Yes!” The whole bus yelled.

“What?” he asked, placing his hand behind his ear. “Ay, Ay, captain!” 

“I can't hear you!” 

“Ay, ay, captain!”

“Ohhhh, who wants the aux first?” 

A couple hands got raised, but Johnny sighed and said “If no one wants it, I guess ill be first.” and put on the first song, which was SHINee’s Lucifer, which made the whole bus jam out.

The songs kept going and your ears were in heaven, there were 23 professional singers singing some of your favourite songs, of course they were, but after a while, the atmosphere calmed down and you continued talking to Renjun.

You remember seeing most of WayV, Shotaro and Jungwoo playing a game, Taeyong play on his Nintendo while Doyoung watched and critiqued, Johnny and Taeil making Mark and Ten laugh every 3 seconds as Jaehyun and Yuta discussed something.

After some time, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle and Jisung changed seats so they were right in front of you, which resulted in you playing some games.

An hour later, you got to your destination. You watched as Jaehyun, Jeno, Lucas, Jaemin and Johnny bring the bags and the suitcases from the bus as  Kun, Taeyong and Doyoung went to go get the keys while you and the others stood before your cabins. 

Once the suitcases were out and distributed, you waited for the keys. Most of Wayv and Shotaro was standing on the porch and discussing something, half of 127 was cuddled up while the other half took photos, alongside Sungchan.

You and the dreamies and Yangyang however, were playing with the snow. Hyuck pulled out his fake gun and jokingly started pointing it at the others. He jokingly shot us, one by one and we all played along, expect for Chenle, because he couldn't bother to move.

First, it was Jaemin, then Yangyang, Jeno, you, Jisung and at the end, Renjun, who just so happen to be near a hill so you all watched in shock as he rolled down it, getting covered in snow as Jeno and Jaemin went to go get him. 

Taeyong walked over to you guys to give you the keys before he saw Renjun, who resembled a snowman and Jeno and Jaemin helping said snowman. 

“Renjun, you okay?” He asked as Chenle, Hyuck and Yangyang laughed their asses off. Renjun just showed a thumbs up as they made their way up the hill again.

You thanked Taeyong for the keys as he and Hyuck made their way to the 127′s cabin and Yangyang to WayV’s. 

You walked to the cabin and went in, leaving your bags at the door. Jeno started the fire in the fireplace as Jisung and Chenle browsed the cabin while you and Jaemin asked Renjun if he wants cuddles to warm him up.

“Normally, I would say no, but I'm really cold, so I shall allow it.” he said before you and Jaemin looked at each other and cuddled the melted snowman. 

After cuddling for a bit, Jeno suggested deciding roommates, so once Chenle and Jisung got back, they reported on the rooms and you used a random pair up generator, since none of you had any preference.

Jeno and Chenle got the ground floor room, which was closest to the kitchen. Jaemin and Jisung got the room one level up, which had the best bathroom and you and Renjun got the top floor room, which had the best view. 

“You guys hungry?” Chenle asked, to which everyone nodded. “I’ll call Doyoung and ask if they know what they're going to eat.” Jeno said, picking up his phone. 

“I’ll take the bags to our room.” Jaemin said, taking his and Jisung’s stuff and walking up the stairs. 

“I’ll do the same.” Renjun said as Chenle and Jeno looked at each other before Chenle sighed. “I guess I shall too.”

Now, you and Jisung were watching Jeno as he called Doyoung. Apparently, there was a take out place not so far away, which did deliveries so they decided on that. 

Once the others got back, you told them and you made your way to the biggest cabin, which was 127′s. The others also came to the cabin and half an hour of everyone on their phone, the food had arrived. 

Taeyong suggested they used his new projector to watch something, so you did. You all gathered on the big couch and floor as the movie started playing on the wall while you ate.

Two movies later, Kun suggested going outside to make snowmen, while Yangyang suggested a snow ball fight, so you did both.

You started building the snowmen with Taeil and Winwin, but once you felt a snow ball hit your back, you said fuck it and joined the fight. 

You got a few throws in before you all got really cold and went back inside for some hot chocolate. 

Xiaojun, Kun, Taeyong, Doyoung, Jaemin and Jeno went to the nearby store to buy what you needed for breakfast while the others stayed in the big cabin and played a few games before Renjun got mad at Jisung’s team beating him.

“Jisung, meet me on the rooftop.” Renjun commented, making everyone laugh. 

You ended up talking to Chenle about something, but you forgot the Korean word for it, and the English word for it, you could only remember the word in German, only because you remember Yangyang teaching it to you a while back.

“Yangyang!” You yelled, grabbing Chenle’s hand and walked over to Yangyang. “Yes?” He asked.

“How do you say schwert in Korean?” You asked. “You mean sword?” Yangyang asked, which made you mentally slap yourself for not remembering. 

“What about in Korean?” Chenle asked, causing silence from the both of you until you both yelled “Mark!” and so, you, Chenle and Yangyang walked over to him.

“Yes?” He asked. “How do you say sword in Korean?” Yangyang asked, to which Mark just stared at all of you.

“Johnny!” Mark yelled as so, you, Chenle, Yangyang and Mark now walked towards Johnny asked him the same question.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning around to face you all. “How do you say sword in Korean?” Mark asked.

Johnny just looked at you all before pulling out his phone and googling google translate. “검 (Geom).” he said, showing you the translation. 

“We’re idiots, aren't we?” You asked. “Yup.” “Totally.” “The dumbest.”

“Wait, how do you say it in Chinese...” Chenle wondered before yelling “Renjun!”

It was getting late, so you said your goodbyes to the others and went back to your cabins, where Jaemin insisted on making you all dinner, so while he made dinner, you sat down on the couch and turned the tv on and searched fort the new buzzed unsolved episode on the YouTube section. 

“You started it without me?” Renjun asked, sitting right next to you. “I was searching.” You defended as Chenle sat down on the floor and waited for you to hit play.

As Jeno helped Jaemin, the rest of you watched the episode, you and Renjun on the couch, his legs lightly tossed over your lap as he leaned against the arm of the couch while Chenle sat right below you on the floor and Jisung next to him. 

“Dumbass.” Renjun commented. “You would do the same.” You said, laughing. “I would not!” he yelled. “You would.” Chenle and Jisung said in unison, making Renjun huff and continue watching in silence as you pet his head, jokingly. 

By the end of the episode, Renjun had turned so that his head was in your lap and his legs were on the arm of the chair as you played his hair and Chenle and Jisung were lazily spread out on the floor.

“Kids, dinner’s ready!” Jeno yelled, causing the two on the floor to groan and slowly get up. “You heard your dad, go.” you teased the two as Renjun got up and held his hand up to help you up.

You got to the kitchen and sat down, eating the food that Jaemin and Jeno prepared in silence.

On the ground floor, Jeno and Chenle tossed and turned, not being able to find a good position until Jeno said fuck it and got up. 

“Jaemin is probably cuddling with Jisung so they have a spare bed, so....se ya!” he said, holding up a peace sign before walking out the door. 

Once he got there, he opened the door to see Jaemin with all of his limbs wrapped around Jisung and thanked god before walking to the other bed and fell asleep.

Back on the ground floor, Chenle tried to sleep again but couldn't, so he said to himself “If Yn and Renjun are sleeping right now, I swear to god.” before getting up and walking to your room. 

He opened the door, and there you were, lying on the floor as a Taylor Swift song played. “What ya doing?” he asked.

“We’re talking about alien li-” “Nerds.” Chenle cut Renjun off before entering the room and lying next to you. 

“So, what exactly were you saying?” Chenle asked, turning his head to face you.

“How aliens could be monitoring us right now.” You said, turning your head to face him.

“But why? You two are so boring, what's there to see?” He said, making Renjun get up and tell you to hold him back, which you did. 

“You're just mad at the truth!” Chenle yelled, propping himself up as he laughed. 

Renjun started laughing too, and so did you, which ended up with all of you back on the floor, laughing, before one of you changed the subject back onto alien life and next thing you know, Jeno was at your door to tell you that its time for breakfast.

Once you finished breakfast, you ended up taking your sketchbook out, and so did Renjun. You spent the whole morning and a bit of the afternoon drawing and doodling with Renjun as Chenle and Jeno played games while Jaemin and Jisung were on their phones.

You looked up from your paper and saw them all having fun and relaxed in your chair.

“There truly is no place like home.” 

[hopelikethemoon]

Christmas Morning (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Christmas Morning Rating: PG Length: 2000 Warnings: FLUFF Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Christmas Day 1998.  Summary: Presents are opened. 

@grapemama​​​​​​ @seawhisperer​​​​​​ @huliabitch​​​​​​ @beccaplaying​​​​​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​​​​​@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns​​​​​ @gooddaykate​​​​​​ @livasaurasrex​​​​@ham4arrow​​​​​​@plexflexico @readsalot73​​​​​ @hdlynn​​​​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​​​​ @randomness501​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​  @roxypeanut​​​​ @snivellusim​​​​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​​​​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​​@awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie​​​​​​ @swhiskeys​​​​​​ @lady-tano​ @u-wakatoshii​​​ @space-floozy​​​​​@cable-kenobi​​​​​​ @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​​​​​​ @findhimfives​​​​​​ @pedrosdoll​​​​​​ @frietiemeloen​​​​​​@arrowswithwifi​​​​​​ @random066​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​​​ @heather-lynn​​​​​ @domino-oh-damn​​​​@cyarikaaa​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​​​​​  @yabby-girl​​​​​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​​​​ @punkass-potato​​​​@coredrive​​​​​​ @pascalesque​​​​​​@theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar​​​​​​ @sabinemorans​​​​​​ @buckstaposition​​​​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​​​​@yespolkadotkitty​​​​​​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​​​​​ @seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​​​​​​ @jaime1110​​​​​​@katlikeme​

“Mommy, look what Nadia got me!” Josie shouted, getting your attention as you looked through the viewfinder of the camcorder. She proudly held up a bright pink CD-Rom game, “It’s the fashion designer game I’ve wanted for forever!”

Javier gave you a look, “I think she just shaded you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Thank Nadia for it.”

“The kid’s got style. How could I resist?” Nadia shrugged. “Next time we watch you, we’ll play with it, alright?”

Josie nodded her head, “Thank you.”

Chucho chuckled, “Just you wait until she opens my presents.” He took a sip of coffee before sitting it aside and taking the very squirmy Sofía out of your arms. 

“Mommy!” Josie squealed. “Monica got me the nail designer too!” She beamed at the camera.

“Looks like this is a very Barbie Christmas.” Javier remarked, resting his hand on the top of your thigh and giving it a squeeze. You pulled your housecoat around you tighter and leaned into his side. 

Josie moved onto her grandfather’s gifts, which included the Barbie Riding Club game and a matching Barbie doll. 

“Look!” Josie brandished the doll, pouting a little. “But I still don’t have a pony.”

“Hmm.” Javier tapped his chin thoughtfully, “I wonder if Santa knew. Maybe you should open your stocking.”

Josie scrambled across the floor to grab the stocking out from under the tree, before retreating back into her spot in front of the camera. 

“Clothing…” She huffed, tossing them aside like any little girl would, before she got her hands on the big toy. “A horse! Daddy, I got my pony!” She ooed and awed as she stared at the package. 

“And it walks,” You told her with a grin. 

Mitch leaned over the back of the sofa, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “That smile right there reminds me of a certain sixteen year old and Dove.”

“Oh God.” You hid your face. 

“Who’s Dove?” Javier questioned. 

You playfully swatted Mitch’s hand off your shoulder. “The guitar I got for Christmas after I moved in with them,” You explained, scrunching up your nose “It was black and had this stupid white dove on the front.”

“She was just the cutest thing,” Darla remarked from behind the sofa where she was sitting beside Mitch on the chairs Javier had pulled in from the dining table. “But she was no Stevie Nicks.” 

Javier grinned at you, rubbing his hand up and down your leg, “I didn’t know you played.” 

“Not well.” You assured him, making a face as you pressed your lips against his shoulder. 

“She wasn’t terrible,” Mitch amended. “Not great, but not terrible.” 

“Mommy, are you getting this?” Josie questioned as she tugged on a dress over her pajamas. 

Monica laughed, “Why don’t we do a fashion show later?”

“Does Tate want to do a fashion show?” Josie questioned. 

Tate clenched his teeth and grimaced, looking towards you and his parents for a way out. 

“Tate would love to be in your fashion show,” Mitch told Josie, patting Tate on the back. 

“Thanks dad.” He grumbled, shaking his head. 

“Now, let’s see what mommy and daddy got for you.” Javier said, gesturing to the large box that was still sitting under the Christmas tree.

“But I’ve already got everything I wanted!” Josie announced, even as she hauled the box over and started peeling away the wrapping paper. She stopped once she realized what was in the box, her jaw dropping as she looked directly at the camera, before looking towards you and Javier. “Mommy!” She grinned at you. 

“Well, let us see.” Chucho remarked, taking another sip of coffee. 

Josie quickly peeled away the paper and proudly held up the American Girl doll that you had been eyeing for over a year. As soon as that catalog showed up in the mail last Christmas… you had known you had to buy it for her. 

“What’s her name?” Monica questioned, tilting her head as she tried to catch a glimpse of what the name was, but Josie was quick to turn it back around so only she could see it. 

“Her name is Josefina! Just like me!” 

“No kidding,” Chucho remarked, looking at you and Javier then. “That worked out didn’t it.” 

You laughed, biting on your thumbnail. “An arm and a leg later.” 

“Let me see,” Nadia said, holding her hand out to take the box from Josie. “Josefina Montoya.”

“Wait a stinky minute!” Josie jumped up suddenly, racing down the hallway towards her bedroom. 

You pursed your lips and looked between the other adults in the room, “Where do children get those phrases?” You laughed, sitting up a little as you looked down the hallway as she came trotting back with a book in her hands. Ah. 

“You’ve been reading to me about her, Mommy! You clever lady!” She jumped onto the sofa, nearly causing Chucho to spill his coffee beside you as she threw herself onto yours and Javier’s laps. 

“I wanted you to know all about your new friend,” You told her, poking her in the belly. “I hope you realize you’ve been spoiled rotten today.” 

“It’s because I was a good girl all year.” Josie grinned brightly at you, tucking her hands under her head as she reclined back on you. 

Javier tapped his finger against her nose, “And now you’ve gotta be a good girl for a whole new year.” 

She sighed dramatically, “Well, I’ve gotta be good for sissy.” Josie sat up and walled her way in between you and Chucho to dote on her sister. 

Mitch leaned over the sofa, “You’ve done good, kid.” 

You smiled back at him, “I’ve tried to.” 

“So what did you two get each other?” Monica questioned. “I noticed you two already did gifts.” 

Javier snorted, “That’s what happens when you’re parents and you get up before the little ones.” He curled his arm around your shoulders, “Aside from the grill, someone got me the Star Wars trilogy on VHS.” 

“And a couple new games for his Playstation,” You said, patting his leg. “And he got me an office chair for our office at school.” You shrugged. The real gift had been the update to the silver bracelet you wore. Hidden under the band, away from anyone’s gaze, was a special date in May — etched in alongside all the other important dates in your lives. 

You still couldn’t believe that a few feet away, unbeknownst to everyone except for Chucho — the picture of the two of you, fresh out of saying your vows, hung on the wall without anyone knowing. 

Your little secret. 

“You know, the fact that you play video games gives me hope for other people from your generation.” 

“You’re right behind us,” You reminded her with a pointed look.

“You and Javier are Boomers,” Nadia pointed out. “Monica and I are Generation X.” 

“I feel like this is a slam.” Javier remarked, his brows drawn together skeptically. “Is this a slam?”

“Now we know where Josie’s getting her zingers.” 

Josie nodded her head, “I get all the zingers, mommy.” She grabbed at your hand and kissed it. “I love you mommy.” 

“Aw, I love you too sweetheart.” You kissed the top of her head. 

“You too, daddy.” 

“Love you, princesa.” 

Josie jumped off the sofa, startling Stevie who jerked awake. “I love everyone in this room!” She announced, before snatching up her American Girl doll box and heading back towards her bedroom. 

“I so thought the horse would be the biggest draw,” You remarked with a shake of your head. “I guess you can’t always know.” You took the baby back from Chucho, settling her into the spot in between you and Javier so she could recline back against him. 

Chucho gave your arm a pat before he hauled himself off the sofa, “I’m gonna make another cup, now that the fun’s over with.” 

“Make a whole pot, will you? I need coffee.” You said as you stifled a yawn. 

Mitch got up from his chair and walked around to take Chucho’s seat on the sofa. “Thank you for inviting us back into your life.” He said, gesturing towards Tate and Darla. “Not a day went by that I didn’t worry about you. Hoping that you’d turn out alright, despite everything. And you have.” 

You felt tears prickle behind your eyelids as you blinked slowly, “Thank you, Mitch. I wish I’d made more of an effort.” 

“It all works out in the end,” He said with a wave of his hand. “You and your family are welcome in Philly.” Mitch looked towards Monica and Nadia then, “You two as well.” 

“Really?” Monica smiled. “I’m honored.” 

“You’re family.” Mitch said with a warm smile, before he looked back at you. “I’m proud of you and I know dad would be… God, he’d be thrilled to see how well you’ve done for yourself. That’s all he ever wanted.” 

You wiped at your eyes, “I don’t know where I’d be if he hadn’t set everything up for me. I know I’m really lucky.” You knew there were hundreds of thousands of kids who went through the same bullshit you did — every day. 

Monica had shitty parents. Connie’s mother was in the running for craziest mother of the year. 

“I just want to do right by my girls.” You told him. “They deserve the world I didn’t have.” 

Javier squeezed your shoulder three times as he kept his arm curled around you. “I’m glad you welcomed Mitch into our family,” He started with an amused tone in his voice. “Otherwise I’d never know you could play the guitar.” He snapped his fingers. “Steve’s got one.”

You turned your head slowly and glared at him, “No.” 

“Oh, come on.” 

“No!” You laughed, slapping his leg. 

“She really wasn’t that bad,” Mitch pointed out. “If she had actually practiced.”

You scrunched up your nose, “I felt weird taking lessons from your nanny.” 

“She was paid for it!” Darla assured you. “And to think, you could be some big name musician if you’d put a little effort into it.” 

“I wouldn’t have met Javier.” You said without hesitation. “There’s no variation of my life where I’d be okay with that.” 

“I dunno,” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Maybe I’d be working security for your concerts.” 

You rolled your eyes, “No.” 

“You two go well together,” Mitch pointed out, drawing a line between the two of you. “I don’t think I ever saw this spark between you or any of the guys you brought home.” 

“MItch!” You shot him a look. “Shut up.” 

“No, no. I’m curious now.” Javier glanced around you. “What were these men li—” You covered his mouth with your hand before he could finish. 

“Nope. We are not having this conversation.” You warned him, turning back towards Mitch then. “Don’t.” You slowly uncovered Javier’s mouth. “I went to an all girl’s school, my choice of boys was narrowed down to Darla’s friends’ sons and the sons of the ladies at the DAR.” 

“They weren’t terrible.” Darla pointed out. 

“The were the poster boys for frat houses, college sports, and the dictionary definition of WASPs.” 

“Oh,” Javier tilted his head. “Lance?”

You made a face, “Unfortunately. In my defense it was Philadelphia.” 

“The pickings were slim.” Darla laughed. “But look what it’s led you to.” She patted the top of your head in a very familiar fashion, before she headed into the kitchen to get a cup of the coffee Chucho was brewing. 

“All that matters is that you’re happy, kid.” Mitch reminded you. 

“Oh, I am.” You assured him. “I think I’ve maxed out on happy.” 

“And we’ve maxed out on camera space.” Javier pointed out, setting Sofía in your lap as he scooted forward to fiddle with the camcorder. 

This was what Christmas was going to be like for the rest of your life. A stark contrast to the Christmases you remembered from years past — back when the holiday seemed like a black mark on the calendar because you never got to be with the people who actually loved you. 

Now you had that love and you were never letting it go. 

[freddiesaysalright]

Just Like a Woman - Part 4

A Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @lizawritesthings, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronebitesrogertaylor, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @flick-ofthe-wrist, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99​, @scorpiogemini  If you’d like to be added, let me know! Also, I’m sorry the tags aren’t working for everyone? Tumblr is dumb and idk how to fix it :(

A/N: Okay, time for the full story of Y/N and Rog :) Also. I realize I posted the previous chapter yesterday, but I was in a MOOD today so I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): mentions of abuse

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Part 4 here we go!!!

“So, tell me about Roger Taylor,” said Dr. Tracy. 

You scowled at her. “Why, what does he have to do with anything?”

“From what Mark tells me, it has a great deal to do with your relationship,” she said. “I want the whole story.”

It was only your second therapy session, and you were already annoyed. It mostly felt like a way for Mark to spill his feelings about you to someone other than you, and have that person validate him to your face so you couldn’t argue.

You were also annoyed because you felt like the more people brought Roger up, the harder it would be to move on. It had been two weeks since you had confronted him outside the bar, and even though you showed a cool exterior during your meetings with him, your heart was still breaking over what you had learned.

“Y/N?” said Dr. Tracy. “Can you begin please?”

“Fine,” you sighed. “I met Roger when we were six. His father was an abusive and terrifying man, and before my family lived in the house next door, Roger would go to the shed and hide in there. After my family and I moved in, I found him in there on a rainy evening looking for a tool my father needed...”

The skinny blonde boy was sopping wet and quaking behind a large bag of fertilizer. He glared fiercely at you. It was almost frightening, especially with the blood dribbling from his lip. But, his own fear - so evident in those wide eyes - eased your own. 

“Are you okay?” you asked.

A large drop of water leaked from the roof and onto his face. He shook his head.

“D’you need some help?” you wondered. “You’re bleeding. My mum’s a nurse so she’s got plenty of bandages.”

“P-please,” he shivered.

“Well, come on, then,” you said, offering your hand.

He took it. It was frigid compared to your warm one, but you felt his need in his grip. Forgoing the errand for your father, you led the boy inside. You came into the kitchen, where your mother was making dinner and your father was reading quietly. They both looked up and saw you with the strange, helpless boy and they looked at each other.

“Who’s this, Y/N?” your father asked.

You faced the boy. “Oh! I forgot to ask your name!”

“It’s Roger,” he said with a sniffle.

Your mother disappeared into the sitting room and returned with a blanket, wrapping it tightly around Roger’s shoulders. He shot her a grateful glance but then looked resolutely at the floor.

“How’d you find Roger, dear?” you mother wondered.

“He was in the shed,” you said simply. “He’s hurt.”

Your mother knelt down in front of him. She took his chin between her thumb and forefinger and lifted his face to inspect it. She saw his split lip. In the light, she also saw the bruise forming along his cheekbone.

“Have you been fighting, Roger?” she asked gently.

“No, ma’am,” he told her. “My dad got angry at me because I didn’t pick up a toy, so he…”

His lower lip trembled as his eyes filled up with tears.

“Oh, you poor darling,” your mother cooed. “Stay right here, love, we’ll fix you up.”

She bustled upstairs to retrieve her things. Roger sniffled. Your father looked at him.

“Come here, Roger,” he said.

For the first time, Roger released your hand. He stepped warily over to your father. Your dad lifted the boy up and placed him in his lap, caring nothing about the wet clothes dampening his work pants.

“There’s a good lad,” your father said gently, rubbing Roger’s cold arms. “Are you bad hurt?”

Roger shook his head. “S’just my lip, sir. I’m alright.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you father said. “Bad hurt isn’t something you feel on your skin. It’s something you feel in here.” 

He pointed to Roger’s chest. His heart.

“Are you bad hurt, Roger?”

Tears spilling out of his eyes, Roger nodded.

“You father scares you?” your dad continued.

Roger nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded. “You may call me Felix, if you like.”

Just then, your mother re-entered the room, fresh clothes and first aid kit in hand.

“And that lovely lady is my wife, Vivian,” he went on. “And of course you’ve met my daughter, Y/N.” He paused thoughtfully. “Roger, I don’t know how you found your way to our shed, but you’re welcome to come to the front door.”

“Can’t,” Roger said. “I live next door, he’ll see where I went. If I go through the back fence, he doesn’t follow me.”

“Come to the back door, then,” your father said. “I promise I’ll never lock it.”

“Really?” Roger returned, eyes wide with wonder which had replaced his fear.

“Really,” you father assured him. “So the next time something like this happens, or you’re feeling bad hurt, you can come here. We’ll do what we can to make it better for you.”

Gently, your father reached up and wiped the tears from Roger’s cheeks.

“There we go, there’s a handsome chap,” he said. “Ready to let Viv clean you up?”

You mother smiled warmly at Roger. He nodded. Your father eased him off his lap and then Roger took your mother’s hand and followed her into the bathroom so he could change and she could treat him. You looked at your dad.

“Is there anything we can do, Daddy?” you asked. “To make his daddy be nicer to him?”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much that would be effective, sweetheart,” he replied. “But what we can do is show him that there are good and kind people in this world. And we can remind him that he is deserving of kindness. That will have to be enough for now.”

He stood up, patted your head, and went into the sitting room to the piano. Your dad was a banker, but he was also an incredibly talented musician. He always said he played piano and did a little banking on the side as a joke. 

Roger emerged, looking much happier. He drew close to your father and looked at the shiny white keys. 

“Do you play?” your father asked.

Roger shook his head.

“Would you like to learn?”

Roger nodded and grinned.

“Well, climb on the bench, I’ll teach you some,” your father said.

Roger hastily obeyed and clamored onto the bench as your father took a seat beside him. Your mother sat on the couch and you went and crawled into her lap. The two of you watched as your father showed Roger the basics. He learned quickly. Music came easily to Roger, and you thought then that he would one day amount to something great. 

Your father then let you take his place and you taught Roger a few little diddies you knew. Felix and his wife started back toward the kitchen so they could finish dinner and fix a plate for Roger as well.

“What can we do, Felix?” Vivian asked. “Can’t we call someone?”

“We can try, but I’m afraid that will only come back to hurt Roger,” Felix replied. “Let’s wait for now. If things get drastic, we’ll step in. Until then, all we can do is show him as much love as possible.”

She sighed. “Alright, then. Oh, the poor, poor dear.”

They departed to the kitchen. You and Roger stopped playing the piano and looked at each other. Unbeknownst to your parents, you had both heard what they said.

“Roger,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” he wondered.

“I’m sorry is what people say to someone when they’re upset,” you said. “So, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “For the sorry.”

“Wanna learn a real song?” you asked. “Then every time you come over, we can practice it.”

He brightened at that and nodded. Thus began your journey together.

“I see,” Dr. Tracy said as you wrapped up. “And at what point did you two progress from childhood friends to sweethearts?”

“We were fifteen,” you said. “Roger was starting to sort of realize his appeal to girls and that boys were also interested in me. It actually started from a fight because he had asked another girl to a party…”

“I’m not mad!” you insisted, storming through your front door. “You are perfectly welcome to ask whomever you like!”

“Well, something’s wrong because you’ve ignored me all day!” he returned.

“What’s going on out here?” your mother wondered, bursting into the living room.

“Y/N’s upset with me,” Roger blurted out.

“I am not!” you cried, stamping your foot. “Mother, tell him I’m not upset!”

“I think I’d be hard pressed to convince him of it if you can’t,” she teased, nodding at your posture and deep frown. “Now, what’s this all about?”

“I asked Pam Davis to Mary Key’s party, and now Y/N isn’t speaking to me,” he explained.

“Y/N, is that true?” she asked.

You huffed. “I was just under the impression he and I would...never mind, I was clearly mistaken.”

Your face was bright pink and you looked resolutely at the carpet, toeing it with your shoe. Your mother looked knowingly between you and Roger, who looked equally embarrassed.

“Well, I don’t think I can settle this one,” she said. “You two will just have to work it out on your own.”

You turned on your heel and swept into the kitchen. Roger looked at your mother.

“Better go and fix it, Rog,” she said.

“On it,” he sighed, and followed you.

You yanked the fridge open and reached for a Coke. You tugged the cap off and took a swig, letting it cool you down. 

“Y/N, are you upset because you don’t have a date?” Roger asked. “Because I can get you a date. There’s plenty of blokes who’d be glad to take you.”

“I don’t want just any bloke!” you cried, exasperated. “Can’t you see?!”

“Oh, there’s someone you like?” he wondered, perking up. “Tell me!”

“God, you’re such an idiot!”

“Why am I an idiot?!”

“Because you are!”

“Tell me the reason!”

“I like you, you idiot!” you shouted.

You stared at each other, out of breath and both shocked at the words that had just come out of your mouth. You inhaled deeply, collecting yourself.

“I like you, Roger,” you said calmly. “And I don’t know how you don’t know it.”

“Well, Y/N, we…” he trailed off. “We’ve always been best friends. How was I supposed to know things had changed?”

“I dunno,” you said. “I’m just as new to this as you are. But when you asked Pam to be your date, I was hurt. Bad hurt.” 

“Y/N, I had no idea,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. If I had known, I...well, I wouldn’t have asked Pam.”

“Y - you wouldn’t?” you questioned.

He shook his head. “No. The truth is, I was afraid to change things between us because I don’t think I could stand to lose you. But, I like you too.”

“Really?!” you gasped. 

“Really,” he said. 

He stepped closer to you. You observed suddenly that he was much taller than you remembered. You looked up into his eyes. His hand moved to caress your cheek. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you sighed back.

He pressed his lips tenderly against yours. It was a little unsteady and light, giving you the opportunity to stop him. You didn’t. You just kept right on kissing him. Your lips moved with his as gracefully as dancers moved through a waltz. Neither of you really knew what you were doing, but you didn’t care. It was the way you showed what you were both feeling.

“Y/N,” said Roger, pulling away for air. “Come with me to Mary’s party. As my girlfriend.”

“O-okay,” you agreed, a smile blooming across your face.

Not only did you just have your first kiss, but you got your first boyfriend. And it was someone you cared for more than anyone else in the world.

“Now, how long was it before the two of you made love?” Dr. Tracy asked.

“Oh, I’m not telling you that!” you returned indignantly. “That’s private!”

“How long?” she insisted.

“Why is that important?” you demanded.

“Your first experience with intimacy can be a contributing factor in issues in new relationships,” she said. “When did you do it and what was it like?”

You briefly imagined yourself opening your mouth and breathing fire onto this woman until she burned to a crisp. You cleared your throat.

“We were seventeen, and it was wonderful,” you said. “Of course it was awkward and unsure since neither of us knew what we were doing, but we eventually got the hang of it and we were happy.”

“So the sex was good?” she asked.

“It was great,” you said.

“How is the sex with Mark?” she went on.

“Oh, come on!” you cried. “He’s right here!”

“Ah, so not good,” she observed.

“That’s not what I said!” you protested.

“Well, if it was good, you would have just said so,” she said. “And your resistance to talking about it in front of him implies that your opinion would insult him. So, I must assume it’s not good sex.”

“Let’s move on,” Mark interjected. “We can have that conversation at another time.”

“Alright,” Dr. Tracy agreed. “Y/N, tell me how things with Roger ended.”

You sighed. “Well, that was tough. I was still in uni. He had already dropped out and was becoming successful with the band…”

Your dingy little London flat reeked with the food you just burned. How your mother managed to make perfect meals, work, and raise a child was beyond you. Your only responsibilities were studying and work, so why was it so difficult to cook? With an aggravated groan, you tossed it in the bin and started debating what you wanted to get for take out. That was when Roger came in.

“Hello, darling!” you greeted warmly. “How’s recording going?”

“Fine,” he said shortly.

You looked him over. He seemed agitated and nervous.

“You alright, Rog?” you asked. 

“I’m fine,” he replied. He scrunched up his nose. “What did you burn this time?”

“Chicken,” you chuckled. “I’m gonna go for some Chinese. Wanna come?”

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you,” he said.

His tone made your heart skip a beat. You had a feeling that Roger might be about to propose. You had discussed marriage before, but you both agreed now wasn’t the time. But you had also told him you were not opposed to a long engagement. 

“What is it?” you wondered.

He sighed heavily and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he wondered. “On other people?”

“How do you mean?” you questioned, brow furrowing as the panic set in.

“Well, it’s just that our whole lives, we’ve only ever been with each other,” he said. “Don’t you ever wonder what it’d be like to...I dunno, kiss someone else?”

“No,” you said. “I love you, Roger.”

“I love you too, Y/N, but I feel like there’s more out there,” he said. “Now that I’ve gone on tour and seen other places I feel like there’s so much to be explored. And...I want to explore it. Don’t you?”

“No,” you repeated, darkly. “I love you, Roger.”

He sighed again. “I love you, Y/N.”

“What are you getting at, then?” you demanded.

“As much as I love you, I don’t want to be tied down anymore,” he said. “I know we’ve discussed getting married, so I’m sorry if this comes as a shock to you, but I’ve been thinking it for a while. The band’s getting bigger, and it’s only going to progress. And I’m not ready to settle down with just one person.”

“So...you want to break up?”

The question hung between you. You weren’t sure how you even managed to ask it with a lump in your throat the size of an ostrich egg. Your heart was cracking inside your chest.

“Yes,” he said.

With that one word, you felt your heart shatter completely. Your whole world was collapsing on top of you. The assurance you had always placed in Roger was an illusion.

“Well,” you choked out. “At least you’re telling me now.”

“That’s all you have to say?” he questioned.

You met his eyes and saw they were just as teary as yours.

“What else can I say?” you returned. “You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?”

“I have,” he said.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” you questioned. “Beg for you to stay?”

“You don’t want to fight for it?”

“Why should I? If I’m not enough for you, Roger, then that’s it. I won’t guilt you or force you to be with me.”

“I feel like you’re giving up,” he said.

“I’m not the one leaving,” you reminded him.

A moment passed where neither of you said anything. It was so heavy your knees almost buckled beneath the weight of it.

Roger sniffled and quickly wiped his eyes. 

“I don’t even know how to say goodbye to you,” he struggled to say.

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t say anything,” you told him. You felt a tear slide down your cheek. “That way we make it easier on both of us.”

“Y/N…”

“Go, Roger,” you ordered him. 

“Y/N, please.”

“Go.”

He took one last look at you. You were scowling, tears flowing down your cheeks, eyes red and puffy. Even then, he thought you were beautiful and he began to doubt his decision. Suddenly, he realized that he would no longer have his best friend, and it made him hesitate.

“Roger,” you said, drawing in a deep breath. “I really need you to go.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, resigning himself to the damage done. “I...I am sorry, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you said shortly.

He held your gaze again. Your bottom lip began to tremble as the reality struck you. Roger was leaving you. Roger, who you had given everything too, including your heart, was going to walk out of the door and out of your life. 

He broke away, crossed the room, and opened the door. You heard it squeak as he hesitated again. Then he sighed and left. The door fell closed with a soft click. That was it. No hug, no dramatic kiss, no screaming, no fight. 

When the door closed, you broke down with a wail. This was not the Roger you knew. Ever since the band became successful, you had seen glimpses of his desire for more, but you’d ignored it. You thought surely he loved you more than he craved that lifestyle. And yet, he proved to you he didn’t. It seemed impossible that time moved on when your heart was breaking so badly. If there were any justice, everything would have frozen so you could properly nurse it. But all you could do was crumple into a heap and feel the pain. 

“Life went on,” you said. “He became a successful drummer. I became a successful attorney, and I’m mostly happy.”

It was a lie. Just remembering the day Roger left you made you emotional.

“Mostly?” Dr. Tracy questioned.

“Well, I had hoped to be married and have children at this point, but Rog - I mean, I just never met the right person,” you said.

“Let me ask you this -” she began, but Mark cut across her.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” he said, getting angrily to his feet. “I can see now that you really aren’t over Roger Taylor and I don’t think you ever will be.”

“Mark, don’t be ridiculous,” you said. “Obviously, he was a big part of my life, but I -”

“Don’t, Y/N!” he shouted snatching away the hand you had reached for. “I can’t do this anymore!”

You stood up as well. “What? Are you serious? Just because Roger was part of my past! That’s crazy! I’ve found somebody else, and -”

“No!” he cried. “I’m a placeholder, Y/N, and I won’t stand for it!”

“You are not!” you argued. 

“Okay, then answer me this,” he challenged. “Do you love me?”

“I - well, I don’t know yet!” you insisted.

“Well, I love you,” he said. “And I know that because we’ve been together long enough for anyone else in the world to know! The problem is, Y/N, that love is wasted on you as long as Roger Taylor walks this Earth!”

It was like all the air was sucked out of the room. You felt yourself harden against the hurt of his words. His face fell, regretting them.

“Love is wasted on me?”

“I didn’t mean -”

“No, I think you did, Mark,” you interrupted. “That was the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Y/N -”

“No, I think you’re right,” you said, grabbing your things from the back of your chair. “Let’s say our goodbyes. After all, I wouldn’t want you to waste anymore love on the likes of me.”

You said nothing else, but swept out of the office. Hot tears stung your eyes. You never thought Mark capable of saying something so hurtful. 

As you walked, heading back to your firm, you looked at the ground, deep in thought about what had transpired. You paid little attention to your surroundings, and therefore, ran smack into a man who was emerging from a building you were passing. 

The collision nearly knocked you off your feet, but the man was quick to react and steadied you. You looked up to meet the eyes of the very man that started all this.

“Roger?” you questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said, pointing to the building he had just walked out of. “This is the studio.”

“Oh,” you said.

You bit your lip to keep your emotions in check. You really needed to cry right now so you were eager to get back to your office.

“Y/N?” Roger asked, noticing your eyes welling up. “Are you okay?”

Too upset to bother with your pride, you shook your head. 

“No.”

“Bad hurt?” he wondered.

You nodded. You weren’t sure if it was that you’d talked about him for an hour or the sting from Mark’s statement, but suddenly you couldn’t contain the overwhelming feelings swirling around in your heart. You let out a sob and fell into Roger’s arms.