#they bought the buildings hoping to make a quick buck without doing any work to make the spaces safe

[notallbloodmages]

My studio was out of power for almost a week

I’m re-vamping my Patreon again in an attempt to make up the lost $ from this past week.  I lost a lot of work time, mostly time that would have been spent making and releasing new products. Luckily I got it back just in time to fill in orders that were due. 

Details of the studio power troubles below the cut.

The first week that I had the studio, we spent a ton of time just making it clean and slightly warmer. The second week, I was able to move in all of my furniture and start using it to take orders! 

Halfway through that second week, however, the power stopped working. The wiring had just given up and was honestly probably dangerous at that point. I called the building manager at 4:30PM and was told that I’d have to wait until Monday because the maintenance man only worked 8 to noon. I was furious, but didn’t get mad. I did have my first panic attack in months, though, and ended up hanging up on the guy. 

Monday came and went, and I texted the building manager. The maintenance man would be there Tuesday. He was, but he didn’t fix anything. He just took apart the outlets and called it a day. On Wednesday, two of the power outlets we working and there seemed to be no intention of fixing the rest. I decided I could live with that, since they were luckily within reach of my computer and my machine. 

That was all in October. 

Now, in January, the power went out a second time. This time it wasn’t just the outlets in my studio, it was also the ones in the hallway. I called the manager, doing my best to stay calm, and was reamed for not saying “good morning” straight away (sidenote: it was 2pm). He seemed way over the top angry for such a little thing so I offered to call back at another time. He stated that he was at his daughter’s birthday, but that he had time and wanted to know if I was a tenant. I told him yes, but insisted on calling back later since I didn’t want him to miss his daughter’s birthday. I hung up as I could feel the anger rising in my throat - both at his shitty attitude and at his gall to answer his work cellphone at his daughter’s birthday. I had only planned on leaving a polite message anyway. 

The moment I hung up, I started crying, but got myself under control quickly. I sent a long and very strongly-worded (yet still polite) e-mail to the management company about how frustrated I was that this happened yet again, and included what the manager had said during out short one-sided conversation. E-mail means a record of contact, which I definitely prefer now since the first time this happened was only over the phone. 

Sunday- nothing Monday- nothing. I know Monday was a holiday, but these are rich white realtors who could be bothered to answer an email. Tuesday- I sent two more emails in the morning. 

When I didn’t hear back by about 2pm, I wrote another email (mentioning legal action this time) before calling the leasing office. They’re desperate for new tenants right now, so naturally it didn’t even ring once before I was answered. I was greeted by an over-the-top-polite woman who called me “sweetie” every other sentence. She at least allowed me to share the whole story, starting from when I moved in. I complained to her about the hired management’s lack of professionalism, constant sub-par “maintenance” experienced by myself and the other tenants, and that I was not afraid to break my lease if this happened again. She promised to have maintenance call a professionally licensed electrician this time, and stated that that’s what should have been done in the first place.

Right when I got off the phone, I received an email back from the management office. No apology, just one sentence saying that an electrician would be out by the end of the week. It was something, but I didn’t have “until the end of the week.” I had orders to fill and new products that needed to be stitched out ASAP. One of the other management office folk called me, the man who showed me the unit in November, and asked me for the whole story. My fiance was there for the whole conversation so that I didn’t  forget anything. He also promised that this would never happen again, and he was going to be talking with maintenance. 

Quick note, every time that I e-mailed, talked to, or texted anyone at all, I made sure to say that I did not want maintenance to go into my unit without me present. Fully knowing that they wouldn’t listen, because this request had been ignored before, my fiance and I set up a security camera in the corner and had it alert us of any movement. Sure as hell, the maintenance man was in and out of my studio dozens of times between 9:30AM and 11:30AM on Wednesday morning. What was he doing? Going around with one of my plug-in devices to check each power outlet several times and then scratching his head while looking at the ceiling. I also got him calling the leasing office to tell them that I wasn’t there. The woman on the other end of the line sounded frustrated, as if the problem was going to have magically fixed itself and they weren’t going to have to spend any money. 

Around 11:30, I got an email from management  saying that an electrician would be there in an hour. No hello, no goodbye, no apologies for the trouble. Just, “an electrician will be out within the hour,” and the nested email that she was replying to. I checked the camera, and the electrician was already there. The maintenance man was letting him in, despite my repeated requests to not do that. I had a friend go with me to my studio so that I would hopefully not embarrass myself. On the way, I call from the leasing office saying that an electrician would be out around 4pm. I didn’t question it at first, since I’d already seen that an electrician was there and maybe they meant they’d be there by 4pm.

The moment we got there, I composed myself and was polite but firm to the maintenance - an old bald white man missing most of his teeth and any actual know-how about how to fix this problem. Which would be fine except that he did try to fix it previously. He left naked wires just sitting in the wall with no caps on. He installed outlets wrong. Worse things that the wiring getting fuzzed out could have happened. I was lucky that his idiocy and the management’s cheapness didn’t cost me my equipment. 

The electrician was in the middle of disassembling one of the breaker panels in the hallway. The maintenance man literally told me he had no idea where the breakers for my unit were. WHAT THE FUCK. I knew where some of them were. I didn’t know about this one, because it’s still labelled with the room numbers from the goddamned 1940s. I was about to lose my cool when the electrician - someone I had not right to be mad at yet - asked me to tell him what all wasn’t working. So, I led him into the studio to point out what stopped working back in November, what still wasn’t working, what maintenance had “fixed”, what maintenance said he fixed but hadn’t, what still wasn’t working since November, and the “fixes” that had re-broken. He was confused at how all of this happened when there was nothing I was running that should have made this happen. He opened one of the outlet panels that maintenance had “fixed” and discovered that it was installed incredibly wrong. Another sidenote -  I know how to install an outlet safely. But maintenance dude didn’t, but tried anyway. You don’t do that. I also asked the electrician if he could please re-install some of the outlets that maintenance removed completely for whatever-the-hell reason. 

Once the electrician had a good idea of what was going on, my friend and I left because there wasn’t really anything we could do. Needless to say I continued watching on my camera until they left. I got a text from management reminding me that the electrician would be there around 4. Upon calling them back, I found that maintenance and management called two separate electricians without communicating with each other. I was too stressed out to go back to my studio. I also fell asleep around 10-ish when all the stress of keeping a cool and collected demeanor all day hit me. 

On Thursday I could still feel the stress of dealing with this shit again in every single muscle and joint. Also it was like, -13*F here and that never helps. Upon checking my studio, I found all the outlets to be in working order and gingerly started working on an order, certain that the power would bust again.

Luckily it’s all still fine, and I got a whole week of backlogged orders done today. 

However, I still missed out on 5 and a half days of productivity. I did stress this to management, and it looks like I’ll be comped for a month of rent. We’ll see if they follow through. Now I know that threatening legal action and threatening to leave and spread their shit through the artist-seeking-studio community (definitely still gonna do that last part) does work. 

The other artists in the buildings are planning a straight up coup against management. This realty company treats its tenants terribly compared to every other similar set-up in the area. My documented issues will definitely come into play very strongly when we rise up. We will not be treated this way. We will not allow these people to profit off of our tenancy while they do jackshit to improve or fix the building., or respond to complaints. 

Last week there was a guy violently yelling in the halls and the tenants were told not to call police by the management because they “didn’t want trouble”, and instead simply escorted him out. Glad I have both a security cam now and 12inch shears. 

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Hidden (Kim Hongjoong) Rated

Pairing: Soccer Jock! Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)× Nerd! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst, College AU.

Summary: There's nothing that makes Hongjoong feel better after a game than to spend it with his secret girlfriend.

Word Count: 3.5+K

Warnings: male breast play (we love the hiddies), light gropings, dry humping, light degradation, corruption kink, unprotected soft, vanilla sex (always use protection), dom! Hongjoong, sub/slightly inexperienced reader.

Taglist: @seacottons (I wrote this for you ♡), @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez @hanatiny @deja-vux @brie02 @multidreams-and-desires @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny

•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers when their prized center forward kicked the ball with full force into the opposing team's goal, effectively allowing them to take victory over another college from the area. His teammates hoisted the bleach blonde male over their shoulders, parading him around the field and letting the spectators admire him once more. The athlete shyly smiled and gave tiny waves towards the crowd. His eyes passed through all the rows of people standing about, searching and scanning for a particular person he hoped would come to see him.

Once he spotted a familiar red plain hoodie tucked near the very end of the bleachers, his smile grew even wider and he even felt bold enough to send a wink their way, the tiny group of admirers sitting nearby mistakenly thinking it was directed at them. The figure in the hoodie tried not to let any suspicious look give her away, but even she couldn't stop the faint pink hue that appeared on the apples of her cheeks. He mouthed a few words to her, which she understood to mean for her to wait for him at a certain place while he went to go get changed. Quickly picking up her bag, she made way to step down the bleachers, but unfortunately for her the little group of popular girls had the same idea, thus ending in one of them bumping into her rather harshly and sending her crashing down onto the concrete stairs that allowed one to get out of the spectator area.

The soccer player of course saw this and slightly hissed when he watched her palms come out instinctively to lessen her fall, only imagining the stinging sensation they went through. He then turned his attention to the tiny clique leader who looked completely unapologetic, her mouth saying something that he couldn't quite make out, but judging from the way her little minions snickered and laughed, he deduced it was only another one of the usual jabs they liked to fling at the poor girl. And he hated it, the scowl clearly visible on his face. Just when he was about to turn around and give them a piece of his mind, the victim looked up and gestured for him not to intervene and just run along to the showers. He hesitated briefly until she once again assured him she was fine, getting up and quickly escaping before another accident occurred.

Left with no choice but to follow her instructions, the soccer player joined the others in the showers to freshen up after a long and arduous game. He made sure to be quick about it, as he wanted to go check up on her injuries as soon as possible. After drying off completely, he stuffed all his belongings into his bag without caring to check if he was crushing anything and sped out of there. Along the way to the place where he parked his car, he only waved at his fellow classmates and belatedly ignored the prissy bullies that caused the incident back at the bleachers.

"Snakes." He mumbled to himself as he passed by them.

Rounding a tiny corner of the building, he took out his keys and unlocked his car, looking around in confusion when he didn't see the person he was expecting anywhere nearby. Hearing a tiny rustling of leaves, he rolled his eyes when he finally realized they were hiding behind the hedge that decorated the stairs that led one inside the building.

"There's no one else around, now come out of there before the groundskeeper finds out you were messing up his artistic shrubbery." He called out as he walked over to the hedge.

Peeping her head out, the girl looked right then left to make sure he wasn't lying before throwing one leg over the green barrier, trying to get out. It definitely proved more difficult getting out than getting in, as her foot accidentally got stuck when she tried to swing her other leg out. She grunted softly as she tried to yank her foot out, which she eventually accomplished but with how hard she pulled she was thrown off balance. Had the male behind her not have run up to catch her, she would have surely hit her head on the floor. Luckily he had indeed caught her before such tragedy occurred. Looking up, his unamused face was bearing down on her.

"Thanks?" She sheepishly said.

"Don't mention it honey bunch." He snorted when she frowned at one of the many nicknames he enjoyed teasing her with.

"Don't start now Kim Hongjoong." She grumbled with a huff as she sat upright.

When she turned around, she had no chance to say or do anything as he took her hands and made her palms face him. Hongjoong sighed when he saw the tiny scrapes on her fragile skin.

"I'll be fine. It's just a scratch." She asserted before he got anymore upset.

"These 'scratches', and the mean names, wouldn't happen at all if only you'd let people know about us."

She recoiled slightly at his words. He was right, she knew that. Still, she was hesitant about letting the entire school know about their secret relationship, something that he was more than eager about sharing. But he respected her need and wanting of privacy, even if it irritated slightly at times.

"I'll be fine Hongjoong. Really... their words don't bother me anymore. And besides, I'd rather not have all eyes at me at every moment. I like being an invisible wallflower." She repeated what she often said.

He understood her, but couldn't help the sigh that came out his lips.

"Honestly L/N Y/N, I don't know what to do with you sometimes." He confessed as he turned her palms over, his eyes focusing on her left hand. Or more precisely, on the black promise ring that was wrapped around her left finger. He smiled softly as he rubbed his thumb over it, knowing that on the inside of it, his name was engraved in white, followed by his birthstone in the shape of a heart. He wore a similar one around his neck, held up by chain that dangled right above his chest, close to his heart. Only the one he wore was a white band and had his lover's name in black with her own birthstone on it. It was a present he had bought for their 1 year anniversary, which had happened not too long ago. Every time he saw her wear it, he felt a warm and tranquil feeling in his soul. He himself never took off the chain off his neck, only when he needed to shower and even then, he made sure to never misplace it.

It was a somewhat nostalgic feeling, standing there, holding her hands kinda like the first time he worked up the courage to come up to her and state his interest in dating her. Even to that day, he couldn't believe she would have actually agreed. He was so happy and full of bliss at having her that he couldn't help himself as he closed his eyes and began leaning his face towards hers. His girlfriend widened her eyes and let out a muffled shriek before pulling away from him. Hongjoong grunted angrily as he walked after her towards his car.

"It's not a crime to kiss my girlfriend in public you know." He exclaimed.

"Someone might see us." She kindly reminded him.

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Hongjoong was about to start nagging but opted for taking a deep breath instead to calm down.

"Ok fine, but once we get behind closed doors, I'm expecting a lot of cuddles and smooches from you. You've been giving me the cold treatment at school even beyond what we agreed on and I'm slightly hurt." He pouted as he turned on the ignition.

Shaking her head, Y/N leaned over and placed a peck on Hongjoong's cheek.

"Ok you baby. Only because you were amazing on the field today."

•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•

Safe in the sanctuary and privacy of her apartment, Y/N couldn't hold herself back now as she tangled her limbs around her boyfriend, face pressed against his chest. Hongjoong couldn't stop himself from snorting when he felt her cheek rubbed against one of his protruding pectoral muscles. The arm that was stationed around her frame came up to lightly scratch the back of her head.

"Having fun there you cuddle bug?" He raised an eyebrow at her when she snuggled closer to him.

"Hmmm yeah. Your man boobs make such comfortable pillows." She beamed as she reached one hand up to caress the muscle that her face wasn't buried in.

"They are not boobs Y/N. We've been over this how many times?" He dropped his head back onto the pillow as he released an exhausted and frustrated groan.

Feeling a bit on the bolder side that evening, Y/N shifted her weight over so she was fully laying on top of him.

"If they're not boobs, how come I can do this?"

Hongjoong half gasped- half moaned when he felt his girlfriend's mouth part and latched onto one of his highly sensitive nipples. Of course his girlfriend took advantage of this little fact, suckling onto his skin in a tender manner. Hongjoong lost himself in the feeling of her tongue flicking at his hardened peaks, closing his eyes as she kept on enveloping his buds with her warm mouth, first one breast then moving to the other one. This time her suction was a little more rough, teeth baring to lightly bite on the skin around his nipple. Hongjoong obviously didn't mean and was thoroughly enjoying the more harsher treatment as he began bucking his hips up against hers, his tent brushing against her folds which were only covered by her cotton underwear.

Satisfied at being able to rile her boyfriend up, Y/N sat up with a smirk as she peered down at Hongjoong's dazed look. Before he could get a word out, his girlfriend begin grinding herself against his bulge, her hands steadying themselves on his lean but firm abs. Hongjoong looked up at her, his eyes glowing with the same lust that mirrored in her own. Not able to bear to leave her in charge, his hands came up to grip her hips, forcing her to stop momentarily before they started taking control of her movements. He guided her so every time her clothed mound would rub against his tent they would both feel the best friction between them. Not only was he in full control of her body rolls, he made sure to lift his hips up so she would feel him even more. The air around them thickened as their sexual tension grew more and more, their once soft sighs turning more into heavy panting as they both waited for the other one to give in and say they wanted more than just the semi clothed dry humping they were currently doing.

Y/N knew fully well Hongjoong wouldn't say anything, it was in his nature. He'd just keep donning that signature smirk he was hailing at her at the moment as he continued to grind himself up at her. She knew he wanted her to tell him how much she wanted him, as a form of payback for not acknowledging him back at the university. She wanted to play at his game, keep her mouth shut and even get off him only to leave him frustrated and aching. But she had no will or mind to do that. Not when her body yearned for his, cried out to have him pin her to the bed as he tore through her intimate places. She couldn't hold back any longer, her bottom lip was starting to hurt from how hard she was biting down on it.

"What's wrong babygirl? Something on your mind? Do you want something?" He teased her as he moved his hands to cup her ass, fingers digging into her flesh and brushing against the hem of her panties.

"Hongjoong... I want...I want.." Even after having done this quite a few times, she was still very nervous and shy about requesting such things from him.

"Use your words darling, I know you can use them. After all, you're the smartest person in school. So tell me...."

Sitting up so he could lean his face close to hers, Hongjoong brushed his lips against hers, replacing her teeth with his own as he tugged at the corner where she had been biting on just a few seconds ago.

"What do you want?" He asked once more, hands going underneath her shirt so they could fondle her perky breasts, a satisfied grin lightly appearing on his face when he discerned the subtle whine that came from her throat.

"You, I want you." She finally answered, her arms wrapping around his neck as she closed the space between them and kissed him passionately.

Their tongues tangled themselves together in a desperate and slightly sloppy fashion. Flipping their positions, Hongjoong carefully laid Y/N down on the mattress, never once breaking their kiss even when his hand dropped down to tug her underwear down her legs. She helped him out by lifting her hips up and was about to pull the hoodie over her head, but Hongjoong stopped her.

"No baby. Keep it on. You look more adorable wearing my clothes." Briefly pulling away from her, he had a cocky smile as he rid himself out of his own boxers.

"Even if I do enjoy taking them off you." He admitted with no shame, which didn't surprise her.

Prying her legs open so he could fit himself between them, Hongjoong peppered butterfly kisses across her forehead and temples, sighing blissfully as he aligned himself at her entrance.

"I love you." He always made sure to state those 3 words before they got lost in their love.

"I know. I love you too." She responded.

Satisfied at hearing his confession being reciprocated, Hongjoong slowly pushed himself inside her, always taking care to be gentle as his lovely girlfriend wasn't as experienced as he was. He let her walls adjust to the intrusion of his member as he busied himself by kissing along the side of her neck and near her jaw while his thumbs rubbed circles on her waist. Y/N took a deep breath and lightly tapped his arm, a sign for him to start moving.

Hongjoong started off with slow and deep strokes, making sure to angle his hips properly so his head would brush against that sweet spot that would have the girl underneath him crying out his name. Y/N's eyes dropped down to look in between their bodies, always fascinated by the image of Hongjoong's cock disappearing inside her. One of her hands came up and slid underneath her covered stomach, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she felt her boyfriend's bulge poke out from under her skin. Noticing this, Hongjoong chuckled softly.

"You like that baby? Like feeling my cock deep inside of you?"

She could only respond with a light nod of her head as she released a faint moan that turned louder when Hongjoong abruptly slammed back into her at a quicker pace.

"You feel so good around me love. You're so tight, warm, and soft- fuck! I can't get enough of you." He hissed as he continued to roll his hips into her.

Y/N loved hearing him say things like that to her. Hearing him say how much he wanted her, it turned her into puddy. However, there was something she had been meaning to ask him to try but didn't know how to approach the topic. Figuring it was the best opportunity then, she looked up at him with large eyes.

"Hongjoong? Can we try something tonight?"

His eyes instantly lit up when she asked that, always eager to satisfy anything she was curious about or wanted to try.

"Of course. Anything you want." He assured her.

"Then can you..... can you degrade me a little?"

Hongjoong suddenly stopped moving and blinked at her with a worried expression on his face. Y/N wondered if maybe she shouldn't have asked that given his reaction. She watched as Hongjoong's bottom lip poked out in a light pout.

"Baby why on earth would you want something like that?" He tilted his head at you.

"I just.... I want you to call me your bad girl." She muttered softly, feeling embarrased at declaring that.

Hongjoong let out a heavy sigh as he cupped her cheeks and squished her face.

"But you're not a bad girl darling. You're my good girl. My sweet, kind and obedient angel who doesn't misbehave or cause trouble." He reasoned with her as he planted his lips on her cheek.

Y/N let out a tiny huff as she began to think she would not be getting what she was hoping for.

"That's what everybody else thinks....don't they?" She could hear and feel the shift in Hongjoong's mood, confirmed even further when he suddenly clasped her wrists and pinned them above her head as he started moving once again, only this time it was a more rough and fast pace. He stared down at Y/N with a hungry gaze, tongue poking out to lick his lips as he slammed his hips deeper in her.

"Got everybody in school fooled thinking you're such a goody two shoes, little miss perfect who is oh so sweet, innocent and pure, has never even kissed anyone."

Hongjoong smirked mischievously, pausing briefly before continuing.

"How do you think they'll react when they found out I ruined you? What will they say about the fact you opened your legs for me and allowed me to steal your virginity?"

Y/N threw her head back against the pillow and groaned loudly. It was true, she had let Hongjoong take away her purity a few months back. It wasn't anything she regretted, she loved and trusted him enough to give herself up to him, and she knew the feeling was mutual with him. And now to have him use that against her at that moment, to remind her of it, it felt amazing.

"What will your parents say? Their perfect daughter not only dating behind their back but actually letting her boyfriend stay over with her and fuck her into the sheets. Bet they'd be mad, bet they'll hate me for tainting their precious little angel." He laughed in a mocking tone.

Y/N's moaning now turned to whining and whimpering, her legs wrapping around Hongjoong's waist when the unrelenting tempo of his thrusts was threatening to throw her over the edge. Hongjoong knew this too given he felt everytime she clenched around his shaft, her walls squeezing onto him as if her life depended on it. He muffled his raspy pants when his lips attacked her mouth once more, his pecks aggresive and teeth nipping at her bottom lip.

"And so many guys will be jealous. You don't know but I've overheard even some of my teammates whisper about how they wanted to rob you of your innocence. Hell, I know for a fact even some of the professors wanted to shove their cocks inside your little pussy." As he dished out those tiny secrets she never knew about, Hongjoong's pounding became more harsh and he snarled with jealousy at the thought of anyone else looking at his prized possession in an erotic way.

Y/N clung onto him as she was on the brink of topping over, nails raking along his back.

"But they'll never get a chance because you're mine. All mine. This pussy of yours is mine. I claimed it a while back and only I get to fuck it. It's mine..... you're mine."

Unable to contain herself anymore, Y/N softly cried out Hongjoong's name as her body started twitching underneath his, face heating up as her juices pooled down her body. With only a few more strokes, Hongjoong himself was shooting his own cum into her, letting out shaky breaths that matched hers, their bodies collapsing on the bed as they tried to recover from the orgasm they just had.

After a few minutes and with his heartbeat back to normal, Hongjoong looked over at the girl beside him. Taking her hand, he held her arm up and aligned it with his so that the matching couple tattoos they got the month before would connect. It was a rather simple and subtle design, both of their wrists decorated with a beach wave that to anyone else wouldn't look out of place or arouse suspicions, but when they held it against each other, the waves formed a heart, which was exactly what Hongjoong was admiring at the moment. Rolling her over so she was facing him, he grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his waist so it would be easier to slip himself back inside the warmth of her walls. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, both of their eyes closing as they began to drift into a serene sleep, safe in each other's arms.

"I love you munchkin." He giggled when her hand smacked his chest.

"Don't start or else you're sleeping on the couch."

[oikawaplssteponme]

locked lips

pairing: Pro Hero! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI [please im literally begging you], swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, slight praise, fingering, use of the name ‘baby’, deku being a little bit of a cocky jerk, unprotected intercourse, make-up sex

genre: ex’s to lovers, smut, aged up characters, fluff/angst (?)

word count: ~2.2k words

synopsis: You broke up with him on impulse. That doesn’t mean you stopped loving him. Now you’re back at his place, at a party you planned, with him looking just so desirable. What else were you to do?

a/n: hi hi! alright friends, this being my first nsfw post i cannot stress enough how important it is that minors don’t interact. if i catch any minors interacting with this post, ill delete this post and block them, which i obviously don’t want to have to do. just please respect these rules :)) anyway, reblogs are greatly appreciated and enjoy xx

You scrolled through your phone, mindlessly. You tried your best not to double tap on any of the pictures on your screen. The last thing you needed was for him to know you were stalking his page.

“You should start getting ready,” said Uraraka. You looked over at her, cocking a brow.

“Uh I'm not going?” you huffed. Uraraka sat down beside you.

“Don’t be like that Y/N. You still have to go tonight, regardless of Deku.”

“The party is at Deku’s house. I’d look like a total idiot showing my face there after we broke up.”

You sat up and crossed your arms. Ochaco sighed. She grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, you are gonna go to the party and make Deku regret his entire life. Anyway, I’m bringing you as my plus one, so you have to come!”

You sighed. “Fine, but I’m staying with you the whole night.”

Ochaco smiled and gave you a quick hug. She got up and began scanning through her closet again.

You had been staying with Uraraka since you and Izuku had broken up. It was a blow out fight. You yelled at him for caring about work more than you. He shouted at you for not being understanding of his career. The words you meant mixed with the words you didn’t, and chaos erupted between you and him. So, you packed a bag and left. You didn’t want to, but you were done.

While you and Deku were still together, you helped him plan an event for him and his fellow Pro Heroes, as an opportunity for them all to get together. Now, you would be attending that same event. Only, not with him.

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a day where I’d have too many clothes to choose from,” laughed Ochaco. You smiled.

“You should wear that pink dress Iida bought you for your birthday. I don’t think you’ve worn it out yet.”

“You think? It’s not too much…”

“Of course not! You’ll look hot,” you teased. Ochaco smiled.

“Alright alright I’ll wear it. But then you have to wear this!” She pulled out a bag from her closet and handed it to you.

“Please don’t tell me you bought me something…”

“I had to! All your clothes are still at his place...and I wanted to make sure you felt good tonight.”

You gave Ochaco a nudge and pulled out the tissue paper. You felt the soft material in between your fingertips, pulling it out from the bag.

“Uraraka...”

“No need to thank me. You’ve been through hell and back these last few weeks, the least I could do is get you a pretty dress.”

You jumped towards your friend, engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Hey now, let’s get ready! The limousine will be here in just a few hours!”

~

You sat in the back of the limo with Ochaco as you were on your way to Deku’s party. You looked like a million bucks. A little part of you hoped someone would take notice.

The estate where Izuku lived was gated off. Once you were let inside, you could see the beaming lights from the top of the hill. You felt your stomach clench, nerves building inside of you. You wanted to see him, but you also didn’t want to see him doing better without you. You haven’t even been apart that long. A month maybe? Certainly not long enough for him to be over you, because you certainly weren’t over him.

“Oh wow, Deku went all out!” cheered Ochaco. You looked to see the endless decorations and glamor that surrounded you.

“Yeah, these were my ideas,” you mumbled. Ochaco placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

You exited the vehicle and began to make your way inside. Champagne fountains and blasting music greeting you. His house was just as extraordinary as you remembered it. Nothing less than perfect for the No. 1 Hero.

“Uravity! Y/N!”

You turned to see your friend Iida, plus others from your old days at UA.

“You two are looking stunning tonight!” smiled Kirishima.

“Why thank you, it’s all thanks to this one,” you chuckled, giving Ochaco a nudge.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here tonight Y/N,” said Shoto. You shrugged.

“Well, I was invited after all. So Mr. Number One Hero can deal with it,” you huffed.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

Kaminari handed you a glass of champagne, which you took happily. You clinked glasses with your friends before dousing the beverage down.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” you mumbled to yourself.

You found yourself on the living room couch of Izuku’s large complex. You watched as Pro Heroes danced mindlessly with far too many drinks in their systems. You chuckled. At least they’re having fun.

You hadn’t seen Izuku all night, which was strange considering this was his party. You looked over to the glass staircase, knowing more than well that his bedroom was upstairs. You knew the layout like the back of your hand, after all, you lived here for a year.

You knew all your stuff had to be upstairs. You only had time to pack a small bag the day you left. Surely he wasn’t awful enough to throw your things away. You got up from the couch and quietly made your way up the stairs, hoping no one saw you sneak away from the action of the party.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The doors were closed. You placed your shaky hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, causing memories to flood in as well. His room was neat, as if no one had been sleeping in it. You turned to the closet. All your clothing should be on the right side.

“Sneaking around?”

You jumped, removing your hand from the closet handle. You turned around slowly.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t burn my shit,” you huffed. Izuku chuckled. He took a few steps towards you, opening the closet.

“Don’t paint me as a villain Y/N. All your things are safe and sound.”

Your side of the closet was just as you left it. Exactly how you left it. You looked back to Izuku.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be taking it with me when I leave-”

“I’m surprised you came at all. I figured you’d want to be as far away from here as possible.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Ochaco.”

“Oh right.”

Deku took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets. That devilish smile stared you down, causing your face to burn. You could see the outline of his muscles through his white button down.

“You look incredible by the way. New dress?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well since all my clothes were here, yes.”

“Well serves you right for leaving out of nowhere.”

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fists.

“I didn’t leave out of nowhere, I left because you cared more about your job than me!”

“That’s not true-”

“To hell it is! I was tired of being second to everything so I left!”

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. He placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

Your breathing got heavier without you even realizing it. You also didn’t realize that Midoriya had you pressed against the closet door.

“I-I didn’t want to either…” you whispered. Izuku smiled.

“Then tell me baby, why did we?”

“B-Because I didn’t know what else to do…”

Izuku brushed his thumb against your cheek, then took a step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel under-appreciated...but-”

Izuku moved closer to you again, pinning your arms to your sides and pressing his torso against you all in a swift motion.

“-I can think of a better way to prove it to you.”

You tried to catch your breath. All you wanted was him at this exact moment. Was that a good thing? Of course not. Did you care? Of course not.

“Then prove it to me.”

Izuku wasted little time in moving you onto his California-king. He pinned you down onto the mattress and instantly kissed you. You felt the rush of butterflies swarm your stomach. You hated how much you had missed this.

Deku let go of your wrists and you began to unbutton his shirt. With little patience, he helped you from out of your dress. He dived back down, locking lips with you once more. You dragged your nails down his back, listening as soft groans escaped his lips. He moved down to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Fuck~” was all you were able to get out. Izuku’s hands grazed your burning body, feeling the skin that he had been craving since the day you left. He snaked his hand to your back, unbuckling your bra easily.

“I’ve still got it…” he teased. He threw the bra to the floor and gave you little time to breathe before kissing you again. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Izuku...please…”

His puppy dog eyes stared back at you.

“What is it?”

You panted heavily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need you.”

A smirk creeped onto his face. Izuku kissed your cheek.

“I promised I was gonna prove it to you, wasn’t I?”

Izuku sat up, unbuckling his belt. He slid off his pants and boxers. You caught a glimpse of him, causing your body to feel on fire. Midoriya placed his head in between your legs. He teasingly kissed your inner thighs, keeping his hands glued onto them. The anticipation was practically killing you.

“Izuku-”

“Patience baby...I’m in no rush…”

He moved up to your underwear, biting onto one of the strings and pulling it down. They were practically soaked already. Same with your bra, he tossed them to the floor.

He continued to kiss and nip at your thighs, inching impossibly closer to you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Izuku up and kissed him feverishly.

“So eager baby~”

“Please just fuck me,” you whispered. Izuku chuckled. He licked his lips.

“As you wish.”

Izuku spread your legs apart, dipping one of his fingers inside of you with ease. You arched your back, letting out a moan, and gripping onto his arm tightly.

“That’s it baby~”

Midoriya slipped another finger in, stretching you out even more. You clenched around him as he added more pressure.

He removed his fingers and better adjusted himself above you. He held his cock in his hand before slowly pushing it inside of you.

You didn’t remember him ever feeling this good.

Izuku began to thrust into you, slow at first before building in speed. You could feel yourself clenching around him, sweat forming on your skin. Midoriya groaned with each movement as he pushed even deeper. He kissed you as he fucked you, though you were such a mess you could barely keep up.

He knew exactly how to get you worked up.

“Oh god...I’m c-close,” you mumbled.

“Not yet…”

Midoriya moved his hand down, taking his thumb and rubbing your needy clit. You gripped onto him even harder, digging your nails into his skin as he pushed you over the edge.

“Oh fuck-fuck-”

“Fuck baby, I-I love you-I’m sorry-” he stuttered out.

“I-I love you t-too. Fuck Izuku- I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum with me baby-”

Izuku went even harder as he reached his climax, following you. You let out a pleasure filled scream as you let go. Izuku laid on top of you, catching his breath as your body shook below him.

He looked up at you, brushing his hair back.

“I love you,” he repeated, in case you didn’t believe him the first time. You smiled.

“I love you too.”

~

You had forgotten all about the party that was occurring below you. As you got redressed to head back down to meet Ochaco, you felt Izuku grab your hand.

“What is it?” you asked him. Midoriya took your other hand as he stood before you.

“I really am sorry. I don’t want you to leave again,” he explained. You sighed. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay, I won’t.”

You walked downstairs with Izuku, his hand interlocked with yours. You watched as Ochaco’s jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Oh so that’s where you were for the last hour and a half?” she huffed. You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry…”

“Well the limo is here to take us back home, or are you staying here?” she asked. You looked up at Midoriya.

“I’m staying.”

Soon the Midoriya residence was quiet, just you and him remained. You curled up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly as he kissed your head.

“You wanna know why I didn’t get rid of any of your things?” he said. You laughed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you’d be back.”

•

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 26.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3800+

A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen. This is the last chapter. I know I say it almost every time, but I truly think this is one of my personal favorite top stories. At LEAST in the top 3. Now it is time for me to go through and read it all the way through and revise where I can. I’m so glad you all loved it as much as me and I am happy to say, I am already working on a new series!! And yes, it is a Bucky x Reader. I just can’t seem to stray from them lately. His character is stuck on my brain and I’m not mad. Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you once again for all your love and support with this one! I loved each and every single comment and thought thrown my way:) Also, BONUS, I will probably write a one-shot explaining the Bumble Bee nickname, since I was never able to work it into this... If not that, maybe a prologue... I don’t know we shall see;) With that being said, enjoy this ending and let me know how your heart feels after!!

Chapter Twenty-Six:

A whole year had passed. Today marked the 1 year of Y/N and Bucky finally coming together after all this time of being friends and making it official as two people who loved each other deeply.

To give you a quick update in the time passed…

Steve and Peggy went on a first date after she came back for a second time and made her move to New York permanent. He had been sweating buckets while getting ready and Y/N and Bucky coached him from the couch as he came in and out of his room trying on multiple outfits for the night. 

Y/N had suggested taking her to some different places around Manhattan, kind of like the scavengers hunt Bucky did for their first date. But instead of knowing the different places, Peggy really hadn’t known the city at all, so it was more so a tour guide kind of date. 

It was a simple and solid plan. However, Steve wasn’t used to the confidence that Peggy tended to give off. Did he admire it and love it? Yes, no doubt. Did it scare him at times, or more so intimidate him? Yes, again. 

So after some light teasing from his little sister, she gave him some tips to impress her best friend, as well as, reassured him she was a sweet girl on the inside. Just someone who has lived in a man's world a little too long and has to put up a front of intimidation. Once you get past that, you have a loyal and kind person to bond with. 

Needless to say, the date went off without a hitch and the two were now celebrating two strong months of dating. 

Becca had finished up college and was already secured in a job as a child psychologist at a new hospital in upstate New York. She was a little further away now, but that didn’t stop her from coming and visiting. It just so happened that her new boyfriend lived down the hall from Y/N. If you know, you know. 

His name was Thor and after some light flirting every other time she came to visit Y/N, she asked him on a date which he accepted. They were on the route of 3 months of dating now. He had joined the friend group to an extent and got along great with the whole crew. 

Wanda and Vis’s boys were growing up faster than light itself and would be about 6 months soon. After Bucky and Y/N’s last time babysitting, they were recruited a few more times since they did so great with them. They may have been thrown for a whirlwind the first time around, but they were a lot easier the next few date nights. 

Nat and Clint had gotten married last month. They were coming back from their belated honeymoon now in Budapest. The wedding was beautiful and everyone being together all at once again, was a joy and it showed just how much the group of friends was growing. Each of them hitting a new and different stage in life. 

Back to the present...

Bucky had planned a one year anniversary date for him and Y/N. One that was bound to be unforgettable. 

Y/N asked if they could keep it simple with just a picnic in the park since it was going to be cold soon in New York, and she wanted to soak up the last bit of summer that was left. 

“Ok, you have everything set for the night?” Steve asked as Bucky buttoned the cuff to his button up. 

“I hope so. I go to pick up Y/N in 10 minutes,” Bucky sighed in nervousness. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it man. You know it’ll all work out how it’s supposed to,” Steve chuckled, coming over and patting his friends shoulder in reassurance. “Plus, you had Peggy and I help you plan this out. No way it could go wrong with our expertise.”

“You say that, but watch me slip up somewhere,” Bucky mumbled, straightening his clothes. 

“You’re putting nerves where they aren’t needed. Stop thinking worst case scenario,” Steve groaned, walking out the bedroom door with Bucky behind. “What would Y/N say about that?”

“That it’s premature and won’t do me any good to think negatively,” he muttered, knowing the exact words to come from the optimist. 

“Exactly. So stop stressing and go with the flow of things. Nothing good is going to come out of you waiting for the worst thing to happen tonight,” Steve shook his head. 

“It’s supposed to be a night to remember. Not a night to dread,” Peggy interrupted as she came to Steve’s side with a little note in hand she saw on the counter in a spot it may have been easily lost. “Here, you may want this though if you do want it to go well.”

“Right, thanks,” Bucky nodded quickly, taking the item. 

“You guys will meet us there right? Everyone else ready too?” Bucky asked.

“Everyone else is ready. You’ll be fine Buck,” Steve laughed again. “You sound like me the night I took this gal out.”

“Is that so?” Peggy smirked, leaning more into Steve’s side as he wrapped an arm around her.

“Yeah, he’s a little worse than I was, but he’s doing something a little bigger than a simple date,” Steve winked to Bucky. The brunette sent him an eyeroll.

Peggy looked down at her watch and gasped. “You need to get going, Bucky. She’ll be expecting you any minute,” Peggy moved to push him out the door with a bouquet of flowers in her hand to give him. 

_______________

Bucky had made it to Y/N’s apartment in perfect timing, but found himself faltering at the door. His whole body was made up of nerves at that moment. He couldn’t seem to shake them no matter what he told himself. 

Lucky for him, all it took was Y/N opening the door and sending him that sweet smile accented with one of her simple little dresses, that made those nerves dissipate. 

“You look great,” he said with a lovestruck school boy and sappy smile. 

“Thanks B,” she blushed, scrunching her shoulders in a bashful way. “Here, come in for a second before we leave,” she motioned him in as he followed. “I need to put on a pair of earrings and I’ll be set.” She stood on her toes giving him a gentle kiss to the lips. 

Before she could walk off, he put the flowers between them and smiled. 

“For you as always,” he winked. 

“And everytime, it makes me happier and happier,” she winked back, giving him a bonus kiss. “I actually bought a new vase since I’m lucky enough to get gifted with them everytime we go on a date. Want to put those in it?” she asked as she started walking to her bathroom.

“Hard not to give a pretty girl flowers every chance you get,” he noted, going into the kitchen where the new vase sat. “That plus, I know you like the greenery.”

“It makes me very happy,” she smiled, coming back in with her hands working to put the last pair of earrings on. “Ok, I’m all ready handsome. Shall we?”

“I would love nothing more,” he smiled back offering his arm. 

“I like this little routine we have,” she giggled as they walked to the door. 

“I can agree,” he nodded, pressing his lips to her temple before they left the building. 

__________________

They started off with a quick stop to Winnie’s shop, as Bucky said he had a gift there for them to pick up. 

Winnie was all dressed up and Bucky’s dad and Becca were also there. 

“Well, you guys look all spiffy,” Y/N noted, walking in the doors where the group was patiently waiting for the couple. Becca and Winnie in dresses and Bucky’s dad, George, in a nice button up like his son. “You're not by chance celebrating an anniversary like us, are you?” Y/N teased still locked into Bucky’s arm. 

“We can celebrate yours a little with you too, can’t we?” Winnie asked, going in for a hug. 

“The more the merrier,” Y/N replied cheerfully.

“No, no. We wouldn’t intrude on your anniversary date,” Becca nodded off. “However, we did want to give you guys a gift before we go off to dinner. We’re meeting Thor to eat soon.”

“Oh, I see. Boyfriend’s meeting the parents?” 

“We’ve already met him and we enjoy him,” Winnie waved off. “Plus, we have Bucky and yours sign of approval, so that goes a long way too.”

“These are the facts,” Bucky agreed. “Uh, Mom, we do have to go to the next stop I have planned though, so…” Bucky said with a raise of his eyebrow in a hinting manner. 

“Right, right! I won’t keep you long I promise!” Winnie rushed to the counter where a book and a picnic basket was sitting. “Ok, here you go, but don’t open that book until after dinner,” she warned Y/N as she handed it off to Bucky for safe keeping. “It has another little gift in it I don’t want to spoil.”

“In that case, I’ll let Bucky hold onto it then. You know I can’t help opening a book if it’s sitting right in front of me,” Y/N chuckled. The rest of the crew laughed with her. 

“Ok, Ma, Dad, Sis,” Bucky waved off redirecting the two to the door. “We’ll see you guys later.”

“Yeah, later!” Becca said with an odd tone. One that showed she knew something, but Y/N didn’t know what. 

______________

They made it to the park where Bucky had the whole nine-yards of a pinterest perfect picnic planned. His mom had packed a light meal, while the rest of the basket held a blanket, wine glasses, and other little decorations to make the set up special. 

“Look at you being oh so the romantic,” Y/N noted once they had set everything out. “This is impressive.”

“I would say I did it all, but Becca helped with the decorations aspect of it,” Bucky chuckled as he set up some of the food. 

The two sat and ate for a little, watching the motions of the park play in front of them as they talked about their day and any other thoughts that came to mind. They were facing straight west, so the sun would be setting right in front of them when the time came. And it was coming soon as they finished up their meal. 

“Ok, present time,” Y/N noted, turning to her purse and pulling out something from it. The gift was wrapped in a little brown wrapping paper with a twine string around it. “Open mine first because I can’t wait to see your reaction.”

Bucky chuckled at her childlike excitement and took the present as he sat up from where he was laying on his side. Carefully not to disrupt her precise wrapping, he undid the bow and peeled away the brown wrap around the box. Taking off the lid, inside sat two little slips of paper that looked like tickets. 

He quirked an eyebrow confused at what they could be, and when he turned them over and looked closer, he saw they were plane tickets. 

“Two tickets to… Rome?” Bucky gasped. “Y/N-”

“I wanted to show you everything I got to experience. Italy, Verona, Venice, and all,” she smiled softly, leaning closer to him. Her eyes never broke away from his face.

“Y/N, this is…” He smiled down at the paper before bringing his eyes up slowly to meet hers. “I would love nothing more than to experience that all through your eyes.”

Y/N blushed hard and the two leaned forward in sync to kiss. 

“I’m glad you like it. But I want you to see it in your own way, I’m just happy to be your tour guide,” she smiled harder. Their noses were practically still touching. 

“Either way, it’ll be an experience I’ll be counting down for,” he said, leaning in for one more kiss. 

When he pulled back he noticed the sun was settling down with the perfect glow. It was now or never…

“Ok, I guess it’s my turn for the gifts,” he said, taking in a deep breath. “It’s actually in the book.” He turned around grabbing the book his mother had handed off to him earlier, and carefully opened the cover. “This one’s long overdue, but it’s one that I’m starting to realize may have been meant for this specific time in our lives anyway.”

Handing over an old letter, she noticed it had changed colors from small stains and wear of when it was originally written. She was confused some by the details of the packaging, but when she saw it was addressed to her on the front, she picked up on what it was. 

The address and her name was that of her childhood home, but what gave away it’s age, was the return address of where Bucky was stationed all those years back when he was in the army. 

“Buck,” she said softly. 

“I wrote it way back when. Shortly after I realized that you were someone I…” He paused trying to find his wording. “Well, when I realized you were the kind of person I would want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Y/N looked up from the letter she was holding ever so delicately in her hand. Scared she would damage the antique writing. 

“You don’t have to read it now, but to sum it up, I never sent it because I knew, at least I thought I knew,” he chuckled under his breath looking down at it. “I could never deserve someone like you. You were always so kind and wise when I was going through my mess of life overseas. You had things of your own that you were working through, and yet you put it aside for me when I felt like I was alone and drowning in a foreign home.” 

He closed his eyes, picturing all the times he wanted to give up. When he wanted to call it quits after the things he saw, the things he did. It killed him on the inside. Mentally, emotionally, he didn’t hold strong like he thought he would be able to. 

“The only thing that kept me sane over there and gave me hope, was receiving letters from you. I know I teased you to begin with, but as time went on, your words, your advice, and your love that you somehow were able to ship overseas to me with just ink on a paper, kept me alive. Kept me from giving up.”

He looked up finally and saw tears in Y/N’s eyes. The look on her face was heartbreaking yet so loving all at once. It showed how she hated hearing just how lost Bucky was, but also showed just how grateful he was there. He was there now and it was partially because of their letters to each other. More than she could ever imagine though. 

She believed she may have played a role, but it was Bucky himself that held strong. He was the one who pushed through in those hardships and made the effort to keep going on. Not her. But to him, she was the angel on his shoulder keeping him from sinking in times where the waves were just too strong to push back on. 

“I wrote out all my feeling and thoughts in that letter. I think it’s like five pages,” he said in a single laugh. “But I never sent it.”

“Why?” was all she breathed out and he moved his hand to wipe the stray tear off her cheek. His hand staying there and running over the bone it had landed on. She leaned into the touch like it would be her last time feeling it. 

“I didn’t deserve you. Hell, I’m still not sure I do, but I’m going to make damn sure that I spend every waking hour of my life, every minute, doing my best to get there.”

There was a pause as she took his hand and moved closer to him, their foreheads pressed to the other. 

“Bucky you deserve everything and more in this world,” she said softly. “Don’t ever think you should have anything less than that.”

“I know, doll. And it’s because of you I realize I can strive for it all,” he sighed, breathing in her presence. 

They stayed like that for a while. Taking in the moment. Taking in the air. Taking in the wholesome and doting atmosphere. 

It wasn’t until the lights started to get low, Bucky realized he would run out of time for his next gift soon. 

“Y/N, I have one more thing to give you,” Bucky sighed, nervously pulling back and grabbing the book again. “Now, I know this is a cheesy way to do this, but I couldn’t think of a better way,” he chuckled lightly. 

He grabbed her hand and helped her stand. The sun now on the horizon giving the perfect golden shine to everything around them. 

When she stood with him, he brought the book in between them. 

“Ok, open it carefully to page 214,” he nodded, handing her the book. 

She sent him a confused look, but followed the directions anyway. Like asked, she gently flipped the books from the beginning before she reached said number. Just as she pulled back page 213, right in the middle of the book, the pages stopped lifting and inside was a little cut out square that held a small ring. One with a beautiful white shining stone in the middle, encrusted by a gold intricate design. 

“Oh, my-” she didn’t even finish the sentence as she looked down a the ring. Her grip on the book tightening as her other hand came up to cover her mouth. 

Bucky let out a small nervous chuckle at the reaction before slowly taking out the ring and bending to one knee. The book still in her hand, she gasped again watching Bucky move down. 

“Y/N Josephine Rogers,” he started with the brightest smile on his face. “I would be nothing but forever grateful if you allowed a guy like me, to have you as my wife.”

She didn’t answer right away as she was clearly in awe and still processing the last 20 seconds of what just happened. The only thing breaking her out of her shock, was the sound of Bucky laughing again.

“Is that a yes, or am I indeed just making a fool of myself?” he said with a scrunch of his nose.

“No! Oh, my God, yes! Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes Bucky!” she jumped up and down before wrapping her arms around his neck and tackling him to the ground. 

He let out an, ‘oof’ sound as he caught them from the fall and held tightly to the ring not to lose it. He was now on his back and she was laying on top of him giggling and squeezing him in excitement. 

“Ok, good. I was worried I might have read the signals you were giving me wrong,” he joked. 

“You’re a dork,” she laughed, pulling and looking at him lovingly before going in for the kiss of all kisses. 

They were quickly pulled away from it when cheers and whistles started going off around them. 

Y/N looked up from where they were laying on top of the other and noticed herds of people they knew coming out from random parts of the park smiling and whooping in elation. 

“Is that-?” she started, once again taken aback. 

“Everyone? Yeah. They were kinda in on it,” Bucky chuckled. “Hey, did you get that last part?” he shouted toward Nat who was coming around a tree with Clint and a professional camera in hand.

“Oh, it was the best picture of them all I’m pretty sure,” she smirked. 

“You little stinker,” Y/N scoffed, pushing off of him to sit up more. “How in the world did you pull this all together?”

Wanda, Vis, and the twins were there. Steve had his arm around Peggy with Sam next to them and Sarah next to Steve. Winnie, George, Becca, and Thor were all there too smiling and laughing. Everyone was there. The whole crew was apart of the moment. 

“It was easy. I told them I was asking the girl of my dreams to marry me, and they asked when and where. Not much convincing on my part,” he answered, offering her his hand as they stood back up. 

“You guys,” Y/N gushed, wrapping her arms around Bucky’s waist, which he gladly wrapped his arm around her. “This is too sweet.”

“Nothing sweeter than you giving Bucky a run for his money with that delayed answer,” Sam teased. 

“Back off, punk,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pulling her closer to him as if any second she’d change her mind. 

“I will say, he did catch me off guard,” Y/N laughed in response. 

“Oh, my sweet girl is getting married! And to the sweetest boy a mom can hope for,” Sarah interrupted, instantly running to her daughter and almost tackling her like she had Bucky. 

“Mom!” Y/N laughed, catching her balance. 

The next 15 minutes went on like that as the sun set behind them, giving off the final glows of the evening. 

Sarah and Winnie blubbering on about how their little boy and little girl were going to be husband and wife. Then of course going on and on in excitement for the wedding details of it all. At that point they pushed them off for George and Becca to handle as they talked with everyone else. 

Wanda and Vis saying how Billy and Tommy would be glad to be a part of the wedding if they needed them to. Nat gave Y/N little details and advice with planning the party and also offering to lend a hand where it was needed since she just got done with her own.

Then Steve and Peggy also congratulate them and express their excitement for all that was to come for the couple, and all the fun double dates they would/ already had been taking apart in. 

Once it got dark, Steve announced to the crew the little celebration they had set up at Roger's home for an after party of the engagement. Everyone agreed they would meet there. 

So as Y/N and Bucky grabbed their things and started walking to the car, Y/N stopped him as he was about to close the car door for her. 

“Hey,” she turned where she was standing on the sidewalk. Bucky just inches from her. 

“Hey,” he responded with a goofy grin. 

“I love you so so much. You know that right?”

“I know Y/N. And I love you so so much too, doll.”

Thank you so much for reading!! Keep an eye out for a possible one-shot/ prologue of this story;)

The Number One Rule (TNOR) Taglist:

@shadowolf993​ @semistablecentenarian​ @hello-i-am-daydreaming​ @jessyballet​  @emmabarnes​ @kmuir1​ @beautifulrare4leafclover​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​  @shawnie--jo​–jojo  @asoftie4bucky​ @katiaw2​ @sheeple​ @sznri​ @bxtchboy69​ @taliarosej00​ @bakugouswh0r3​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @babemendesbarnes​ @jenniereiji​ @taliarosej00​ @loveyou5everr​ @natdrunk​ @im-a-light-child​ @stucky-my-ship​ @fairykimseok​ @alexfms97​ @awkwardnesshabitat​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk​ @valsworldofcreativity​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​ @heyiamthatbitch​​ @lizzymacy555​​  @srrymydood​​ @xa-dia​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​ @morganclaire4​​ @connie326​​ @captain-asguard​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​ @teenagedreams-bucky​​ @shower-me-with-roses​

[rexsjaigeyes]

Exposed - Part 4

Din Djarin x female reader | NSFW, 18+

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: possessiveness, marking/biting, fingering, oral sex (female receiving)

A/N: Maybe, just maybe… there will be a part 5 if y’all are interested.

You were right on the edge, unaware of the sounds that spilled from your mouth. All you could focus on was the intense pleasure building in the pit of your stomach and the image of Mando flashing behind your closed eyelids. You were so close to release, but the sudden sound of the door opening interrupted the moment, and your stomach dropped as you realized you'd been caught.

You whipped your head towards the entrance of the cockpit, your eyes widening as you saw Mando standing there, as if he manifested from your filthy thoughts. On instinct, you tried to cover yourself up, but this wasn't the first time he had seen you completely naked. And it wasn't the first time he had seen you touch yourself either.

He tilted his head as he watched you fail at covering yourself completely, and you swore you heard a soft click of his tongue as if he disapproved of you trying to conceal yourself from him. The door closed behind him, and he walked to the seat beside you before sitting down. You watched in silent shock as Mando placed one hand on your knee and the other on your arm covering your breasts.

He tugged gently before whispering, "You know better than to hide what I've already seen.” Tugging on your arms again, he used his knee to gently nudge your legs open wider so that you'd expose all of yourself to him.

Your heart beat faster from his words, but you obeyed and dropped your arms so that he could see all of you. Even with your legs spread for him, he kept his visor trained on your face for a moment, as if he was trying to gauge how comfortable you were with the situation. Although you were in the same situation as before, Mando seemed gentler now. It was like he wanted to take his time to make sure that you wanted this just as much as he did. You shuddered again, both from the cold air of the ship and from his unwavering gaze.

Sensing your nervousness, he asked, “Do you want this?”

His thumb glided across your inner thigh as he waited to see how you'd react. It finally seemed like he was starting a conversation about this newfound aspect of your relationship, and you relaxed at the thought of telling him how you really felt.

"I do," you replied softly, "but I don't want this to be a one-time thing."

You hoped that he understood what you really meant – that you had feelings for him – but you were scared to say it outright. Mando chuckled softly and brushed his thumb across your skin again, this time inching closer to your pussy. The sensation made you shiver, and you held your breath in anticipation of his response.

“Does it look like I only want you for one night?” He said in a husky voice. “We’re back where we started. But this time, I’m going to take care of you properly.”

His words caused your stomach to do flips, and you wished you could have seen his face as his helmet tilted down to finally look at your exposed heat. You heard his breath hitch as he took in your naked body before lifting his hands from your thighs to take off his gloves. You gasped softly, instinctively looking away as he took them off. Mando chuckled at the way you attempted to avert your eyes, but then your heart skipped a beat as you felt warm, calloused hands meet your skin.

“It’s alright,” he said softly and rubbed your thighs. “It’s just my hands,” he reassured, his voice laced with amusement as you hesitantly turned to look at him.

You never really thought about what his hands would look like before this moment, but now that you could see them, you felt entranced. You always knew Mando was strong, but as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, you noticed a gentleness that no one else would have expected from a Mandalorian. It was the same gentle touch that he only reserved for the child. He looked up at you, continuing to caress and massage your skin in an attempt to help you relax. His touch was gentle, treating you as if you were made of glass. You were sure no man in the galaxy could ever show you such affection the way that Mando did.

Sighing, you relaxed in your seat and he finally made a path back to where you needed him most. You bit your lip as he traced his fingers up your thighs before his thumb brushed against your clit. The contact was feather light, but not from hesitance; he was teasing you, and you could only imagine the playful smile that must have been hidden beneath his helmet. You gave Mando a pleading look, bucking your hips slightly as a way to tell him that you needed more. He dragged his thumb down to your entrance, pushing apart your lips so that he could feel the evidence of your arousal. You moaned softly from the torturously slow way that he teased you, but you knew Mando was the one in control of the pace now. Sliding his fingers up and down your slit, he coated them in your slick before pulling away from your throbbing core.

Before you could groan in disappointment, he brought his hand up to one breast and used his lubed fingers to roll and pinch your nipple. The feeling was unexpected and intense, and you couldn’t stop the loud moan that escaped your lips. As you reveled in the feeling of his skilled fingers tweaking the sensitive bud, you felt his other hand slide up your body before stopping at the valley of your breasts. Mando picked up the dainty necklace that you bought from the marketplace with him, and you watched him with curiosity as he seemed to stare it for a moment.

He continued his sweet torture on your sensitive nipple while he inspected the piece of jewelry for a moment. Interrupting your soft moans, he murmured, “When I saw that man touch you…”

Mando paused, as if he wasn’t sure how to explain himself to you. But you knew what he was trying to say. Before you could reassure him that he had no reason to be jealous, he growled softly and released your necklace. Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you sensed a slightly darker shift in his mood as he pinched your nipple again and gripped your hip tightly with his other hand.

“I want to make you mine,” he whispered, and you felt your body immediately react to his possessive words.

Your cheeks turned red, feeling slightly embarrassed by how quickly your wetness grew from such a simple sentence. You sputtered, “I’m already yours, Mando.”

He stopped playing with your nipple and traced his hand up your breast before stopping at your neck. Your breath hitched as he squeezed your neck gently. He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer.

“No, you don’t understand,” he muttered. “I want to mark you… so that everyone knows who you belong to.” A soft gasp escaped your trembling lips, and Mando gave your neck another quick squeeze before letting you go. “Close your eyes,” he demanded.

You instantly recognized the clipped tone he addressed you with; it was reminiscent of the tone he used to intimidate his quarry. And it was the same way he had instructed your actions that first night you spent exposed to him in the cockpit. So naturally, you did as he said without question and screwed your eyes shut.

“Good,” Mando praised you quietly, and your heart skipped a beat now that you were blind to his next move. His hands left your body for a second, and you braced yourself for something unexpected. You heard a soft huff escape Mando before he returned his hands to your body and warned, “Promise me you won’t peek.”

The words got caught in your throat when you realized that his voice sounded different. It sounded clear and unobstructed – as if it was no longer filtered through his helmet. The realization made you gasp before you closed your eyes even tighter, scared that you would accidentally play a part in breaking his Creed.

Anxiety flared within your chest and you stuttered, “Wait, are you sure this is a good idea–”

“Promise me,” he repeated.

You took a deep breath, mentally reminding yourself that you couldn’t open your eyes under any circumstance.

“I promise,” you said as you exhaled slowly.

He praised you again before one of his hands slid up your collarbone to grab the back of your neck. He pulled you forward slightly, and you held your breath as you felt soft, warm lips meet your neck in a tender kiss. The moan that escaped you was louder than you had meant for it to be; you didn’t realize how starved you were for this type of touch until now. For so long, you had wondered what Mando’s lips would feel like, and now they were pressed against your pulse point and steadily working on sucking a dark hickey on your skin.

He groaned before pulling you closer to him, and with the new angle, you felt the lip of his helmet press against your skin. It shocked you for a second, but then you realized he must have kept his helmet tilted on the top of his head in case he needed to quickly cover his face. Lately, Mando had been more bold with showing glimpses of his chin around you and the child, and it made you wonder if there would ever be a day when he would expose all of himself to you.

The lip of his helmet dug into your skin as he sucked harder before finally moving to another section of your neck. You could already feel the small bruises forming, but all you could do was moan and writhe underneath him as he marked you like he said he wanted to. The thought of other people seeing the evidence of his lust for you turned you on, and you felt yourself become desperate for his touch somewhere else too. You whimpered as he continued his onslaught of kisses and hickeys on your body, creating a trail down to your breasts before stopping to suck on your nipple. He flicked his tongue over it and you instantly knew that he was planning to replicate the feeling on another sensitive bundle of nerves soon.

“Please, Mando,” you pleaded, feeling your wetness grow from how he teased you with his mouth. You were desperate to feel what he could do to your clit instead.

He chuckled and tugged on your nipple with his teeth before releasing it and kissing his way down to your thighs. Your legs spread on instinct, and you had no willpower left to feel ashamed of how quickly your body reacted to his touch. Finally, his fingers returned to your pussy, gently teasing your entrance with light strokes to collect your arousal on his fingertips. You felt him readjust his helmet so that the lip of it rested against your mound, and his soft lips met your throbbing clit. He kissed you there before flicking your clit with his tongue in the same way he had done to your nipple. Your head fell back against your seat, and you moaned when he slowly pushed two fingers inside you.

Mando slowly pumped them in and out, testing how much you could take before curling them in search of your sweet spot. Your hips rose to meet his touch, and you gasped when he finally found the spot that made you tremble. He paused for a moment before repeating the action perfectly and slowly building a rhythm. You could already feel your pleasure steadily building; you were desperate for release since your previous orgasm was interrupted by Mando entering the cockpit earlier.

The short flicks of his tongue against your clit quickly turned into more deliberate circles, and he let out a low moan when you bucked your hips in response. The vibrations caused you to jolt, so Mando pushed your hips down firmly with his free hand to keep you still while his mouth brought you closer to the edge. Your hands grasped at air as he continued his assault on your senses with his fingers and mouth.

Desperate to ground yourself in some way, you whimpered, “Mando, can I hold onto your helmet?”

He grunted a quick “Yes” in response, not wanting to pull his lips away from you for even a second. Keeping your eyes closed, you blindly reached out for his helmet so that you could use the leverage to grind yourself a little harder against his mouth.

Mando sighed softly before muttering against your clit, “I can’t wait for the day I get to feel your hands in my hair instead.”

You were barely able to register his words as you gasped and moaned for him, getting lost in the feeling of his tongue expertly swirling circles around your clit while his fingers hit your sweet spot. Your body tensed as you felt the pressure building in the pit of your stomach.

He grunted, curling his fingers faster now. “Maybe next time we go to a marketplace, I’ll get you a blindfold so that you can pull on my hair while I do this properly…”

His words lit a fire through your body, and you were right on the edge of your release. He sensed how close you were and returned his mouth to your clit to suck on it with just the right amount of pressure. The feeling combined with his fingers was enough to bring you to orgasm without any warning. Letting out a broken moan, you shuddered as you succumbed to the intense waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Mando continued curling his fingers, helping you ride out your orgasm until you became a mess of limbs in the copilot’s seat.

You heard him chuckle softly before placing a soft kiss on your sensitive clit, and you jolted from overstimulation. By the time you opened your eyes and looked down, he already had his helmet lowered back onto his face, and you were met with the usual expressionless gaze of your Mandalorian.

He must have noticed your slightly disappointed look because he brought his hands up to your face and gently caressed your cheeks before breaking the silence. “One day, you might not even need a blindfold, cyar’ika.”

You raised a brow, silently questioning how such a suggestion would work with his Creed and wondering what nickname he had given you. He had never called you that before, but with the sweet way he had spoken the unfamiliar word, you assumed it was something special.

Before you could ask him what he meant, he stood up with a soft laugh. “But we can talk about that later. Come on,” he said as he offered you his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

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

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Din tag list: @sirianisrock @feministfanboi @okilover02 @peppywitch @emesispo @roxypeanut @angelbbyy420 @basslinedweller @celestial-vomit @yourbucky084 @sabakunoai @madame-marilyn @firstofficerwiggles @tulipsun-flower​ @zombiexbody​

Lmk if you want to be added or removed from my Din tag list!

[lynenspray]

joygi 04

prompt: seulgi should know better than to come unprepared, especially when it involves her girlfriend's reputation at work.

---

hold me up (tie me down)

(joygi gp!seulgi frottage overstimulation car sex)

seulgi’s reflection followed as she tilted her head, brow furrowing at how the white collar of her dress shirt didn’t quite shape itself around her neck the way she wanted it to. 

with a sigh, she tugged at the front of her top and tucked it into her slacks haphazardly. the collar gave until the first closed button was right in the middle of her chest, but the action left unsightly creases around her shoulders. goddammit.

she shook her head in mild annoyance. should’ve gotten a new dress shirt for this occasion. she didn’t want to disappoint joy, after all--the younger woman was the one who had bought the sleek black suit seulgi was to wear for the night, demanding that the older woman don it in order for them to match. 

so she did. and now here she was, looking like a child playing grown-up, glaring at the troublesome cotton that was currently the bane of her existence. 

you really ought to stop dressing like a teenager, joy had told her once, bemused at the photographer’s choice of wearing a bucket hat on one of their dinners out. didn’t you say you came from work? the creative field really is something else...

seulgi mistook it as a joke, because joy and her had similarly bold fashion tastes in somewhat opposite directions. her own style was more baggy and fit for walking the streets, while the younger woman was fond of suits and blazers even on her casual days. seulgi was pretty sure joy would be the type to wear an oversized, tailored coat just to walk her dog around the block.

but apparently the comment was not to be taken as a good-humoured quip, and now seulgi was going to seem like an absolute fool at one of the most important fundraisers her girlfriend coordinated herself for the company that she was a division head for. fuck.

“maybe if i just…” she started, trying not to deflate when she discovered that buttoning her shirt up all the way just made her look worse. if that was even possible. 

ding!

seulgi blinked and picked up her phone, biting her lip when she saw her girlfriend’s message, impatience in its tone. probably from the traffic and the fact that seulgi got caught up with the photoshoot she had today, only having enough time for a shower and light make-up before joy fetched her. they were cutting it a bit too close to being exactly on time for the party instead of fifteen minutes early.

jwoyie ♡

i'll be there in ten. be at the driveway when i arrive

[7:21pm]

one of the elevators in her building had been under maintenance since yesterday, leaving only the other available. the wait and ride down would take anywhere between five to twenty minutes, and joy abhorred it when she was late. shit.

her head whipped around as she stared at her reflection once more; the state of her hair and overall demeanour appeared as frazzled as she felt. was there anything else she could do? 

deciding that no she didn’t own any other dress shirts that had any chance of being appropriate for the formal occasion and no she couldn’t possibly back out now and upset joy while she was at it, seulgi heaved a long suffering breath and wore the jacket to complete her outfit. 

she took one last look at her closet and rummaged through the drawers, figuring that she may as well bring a tie if there was any chance joy could salvage her attire. 

"seriously…"

the only ties she had were long printed scarf-like silks in different colours. great. 

she tucked one into her suit jacket anyway and hoped for the best, quickly making her way down to the lobby of her apartment building lest she be late. 

joy's mercedes-benz pulled up on the dot, and seulgi was both unsurprised and terrified to see her girlfriend's blank expression as soon as she slipped into the passenger seat in all her disheveled glory. 

all seulgi could do was sit there in quiet shame as she fiddled with the cloth in her hands.

"you’re gorgeous," seulgi whispered as she settled in. joy was going to turn every head at the fundraiser with the side ruffle black dress she wore; simple but eye-catching. oh god. seulgi was going to embarrass her girlfriend at the very event she worked so hard for. 

"thank you." joy’s reply was simple and quick, smooth as her steering them out of the driveway and onto the main road. the younger woman's hand trailed down seulgi's arm, twining their fingers together as their matching couple rings met. no praises were given about seulgi's own outfit. rightfully so, because she looked pitiful in comparison. 

seulgi sank further into her seat. 

joy didn’t look at seulgi when she spoke next. "are you upset? was it with your photoshoot today?" 

"no," seulgi answered, tightening her grip on joy's hand as she gazed out her window. "i just… know that i don't look good. i'm sorry i didn't just buy an actual dress shirt, or text you asking if i could borrow one."

joy let a few minutes pass by without a single word, the evening traffic’s lights bouncing off her face and making her glow. the few minutes had first turned into several, before several more, and soon enough time had stretched on until almost an hour of silence had passed and the events place underground parking lot was all seulgi could spy outside.

when the taller woman finally spoke, it was an inquiry rather than a response. "what are you doing with that tie?" joy’s tone lacked any accusation, but the steely gaze she flicked towards seulgi as she turned the engine off spoke volumes.

"i…" seulgi swallowed. "thought… maybe i could wear it tonight," she reasoned, every word that slipped out of her mouth softer than the last. though the car was warm, the temperature didn't call for the cold sweat that she felt trickle down the back of her neck. that was caused by something else. 

seulgi held her breath as she watched joy's fingers clench around the steering wheel, her stomach dropping at the sound of leather being stretched. 

"haven't we been over this before?" 

"the…" party? seulgi couldn't recall any such thing. 

joy's hand was almost as quick as her hiss. "this," she indicated, holding seulgi's hand and the tie up between them. "making decisions without me. it's my event."

and you're my girl went unsaid, but seulgi could hear the implication of it with joy's piercing stare. 

seulgi dipped her gaze impulsively, trying to appease the younger woman. she knew far better than to push joy, especially when she was in business-mode and concerned about her reputation at work. “i know… i’m sorry.” 

"you want to use this?"

she crumpled into herself, not knowing the answer joy wanted to hear.

the older woman let out a squeak of surprise when joy's other hand moved to grab her chin, forcing her to lock their gazes. "backseat," joy commanded. 

seulgi blinked, bewildered for only a moment before gathering her wits and scrambling to do joy's bidding. she squeezed herself between the front seats, waddled her way over the console, and caught her breath as she settled into a sitting position.

joy only looked at her with an expression of amusement, lips tilted mockingly. the older girl watched wide-eyed as her lover reached out to open the glove compartment and pulled out what looked like sleek black cloth. 

before seulgi could make sense of what was going on, the taller swiftly exited and reentered the vehicle through the back with a smirk, pushing her against the opposite door as soon as she got in.

seulgi gulped when joy languidly approached, maneuvering the former's legs until she could fit snugly between them. the position was awkward, but seulgi wasn’t thinking about that right now. the rough manipulation of her limbs had her trembling, and if she looked down now, she was sure the tent in her pants would be more than obvious. 

joy’s smirk only widened as she brushed fingers against seulgi’s trousers, right where her slowly hardening dick was. “sit tight, big girl,” she whispered. seulgi gulped as joy leaned forward, lips right by her ear and causing goosebumps to spring forth on her skin. “using this was your idea, after all. i wouldn’t want to disappoint you now.”

the older woman did nothing but watch and let her lover leave kisses on her wrists before wrapping the tie around them, tugging them up, up, above seulgi until they were level with the car handle over her head. 

a gasp escaped her lips when joy tethered her arms to the handle, leaving no room for her to resist or move from her place. 

she wanted to ask her lover what was going on, but just as she was about to, the black fabric was folded into a ball and stuffed in her mouth. 

the only thing she could muster was a confused grunt, her tongue pinned as joy placed another cloth between her teeth and tied the ends behind her head, pulling at the edges of her lips and preventing her from closing them. 

seulgi tugged on her bonds questioningly, letting the squeak of satin against leather ask everything she couldn’t manage to voice out. 

“you want to look good for me, right?”

she nodded, hips unconsciously bucking against the hand that ground down against it.

“i know just the thing to help, then.” 

joy’s smirk turned vicious, from what seulgi could see in the dim light. she felt more than saw her lover’s hands trail their way up her shirt, swiftly unbuttoning the white cotton. then those long fingers brushed against her ribs, coming between her breasts to unclasp her bra, letting her tan skin meet the still air of the car they were in. 

seulgi suppressed a weak whimper as joy's breath ghosted over her body, lips poised to kiss along her collarbone and doing so slowly, reverently. 

joy's kisses would normally range from deep and sensual to light and playful, but seulgi noticed her pecks now had intention behind them; firm and final, no sign of her tongue peeking out as she grazed against the older woman's peaks. 

"hnmf," seulgi groaned through the cloth as the ends of joy's hair tickled her waist, bucking her hips up to show her want, her need. if joy wanted to have her, she was all hers for the taking; would always be. she just needed to touch her. 

instead of following through with her lover's obvious request, however, joy ignored her restless hips in favour of grabbing her lipstick from her bag and reapplying some as she stared down at her unnie with a smirk. 

joy's hand found its way to seulgi's thigh, pressing her fingers harshly against the muscle and smirking wider at seulgi's whine in reaction. 

"you know when you look best, baby?" she questioned, rubbing along the underside of seulgi's leg and pushing it up to have seulgi blossom open for her, slacks pulling tight against her crotch, hugging her bulge. "when you're mine."

seulgi's head rolled back as joy started leaving firm kisses all over her torso once more, steady and insistent. she was so distracted by the sensation that she hadn't noticed when joy started writing on her chest; only blinked back to reality once the lipstick was recapped and joy sat back to gaze at her with a pleased expression. 

"if only you could see yourself," joy said, chin tilted upwards as she directed a lazy smile at seulgi. her grin was quickly replaced by a sneer. "but the view isn't for you anyway, is it?" 

seulgi shook her head with a squeak, knowing that was what joy wanted. she closed her eyes when joy still paid her swollen cock no mind, frustration building. 

"look at me."

please. seulgi planted her ankles on top of the car seats so she could inch herself closer and grind on joy's knee. please just touch me. 

a muffled yelp escaped her as joy abruptly pressed her thighs back against her own chest, holding her so firmly she could feel the shape of the car door digging into her spine. 

seulgi's eyes shot open. something in joy’s expression told her it was best if she stopped struggling; that if she knew what was good for her, she would sit still, listen carefully, and–

"look at me."

look at her. 

the older woman would bite her lip if she could. she spied the shadow of muscles moving as joy let out a breath and clenched her jaw. the sight had seulgi trembling; she couldn't tell what was about to happen.

she'd been disobedient before, pushed joy to the limit, tested her patience repeatedly to the point that she'd had no choice but to teach seulgi a lesson about her manners. 

but it had never happened in the cramped space of a car, right as they had to show up at an event. 

would joy drag her out of the vehicle, disheveled and so obviously wrecked, and leash her to her person as they got to the party? would she then push her into a cubicle in the restroom, make her cum all over herself, and watch as seulgi would try to hide the evidence? would they leave early, with joy stripping her naked and tied in the backseat as she drove the long way home? 

seulgi let out a shaky breath at the thought, gaze locked on joy and her barely withheld annoyance. she could do those things. joy would do all of those things if she felt like treating seulgi that way tonight. 

"good girl," joy practically purred. her hands were back on seulgi's legs, rubbing the material of her own slacks against her. "see? it's not that hard to do what i say."

the older woman let out a whimper as joy loomed over her. 

"isn't that right?" 

seulgi nodded before joy could even finish, breathing heavily as she felt her dick leak, aroused at the sight. she groaned when joy's hands travelled to cup her groin, massaging her bulge and causing her to jerk up in response. 

she tugged on her bindings and lifted her hips, rolling against joy's palms as the younger woman curiously left seulgi clothed. no movements towards unbuckling her pants were made. what…? 

joy answered her unspoken question. "you're keeping them on." she cupped the head of seulgi's dick through the fabric and rubbed against the junction between the crown and the rest of her shaft. 

seulgi moaned at the harsh touch, titillated beyond comprehension. joy's always did this to her, sent her reeling, desperate and yearning for more of what she would be given. 

and it was obvious that it turned joy on too. the younger growled as she buried her face into seulgi's neck, ignoring the sweat and licking her skin. "bought them for you, y'know." she nipped and sucked almost feverishly, marking seulgi with love bites. "wanna see you in them. cum in them."

the older woman squirmed, the thought of being jerked off while clothed sending tingles down her spine. on her new clothes, too. 

"mmffh," seulgi groaned, eyes rolling back as joy continued fondling her, mercilessly pressing on her most sensitive buttons. 

fuck fuck fuck– it was a sick sort of satisfaction to finally receive all the touch she had been craving for, tenfold. the line between pleasure and pain was one seulgi was familiar with as joy's shadow formed over and on her. 

her lover knew all the spots to get her aching; she ground a thumb against seulgi's crown and cupped around the outline of her swollen cock with one hand, while the other massaged her tightening balls.

an eye pinched closed as seulgi gasped, feeling the telltale sign of her reaching the edge. her gut clenched, hips stirring as she felt her muscles constrict in the moments leading up to ecstasy. 

oh god oh god ohgod–i'm going to–

seulgi whimpered through the cloth between her teeth, tugged on the ties around her wrists, and unceremoniously creamed in her slacks and underwear. 

"just like that, baby. had a lot pent up in you, hm?" 

she grunted as joy cooed, caressing her through her orgasm. each spurt slowly emptied her gut but also filled her panties up, making for a sweaty, almost oppressive feeling right where her crotch was. 

the older woman shivered as she gushed the last drops of her cum, the sticky, full feeling in her underwear making her blush crimson. it was really hot–both temperature-wise and just the act of her cumming in her pants. she felt so dirty. 

seulgi let out a squeak when joy's hands continued, spreading the accumulated seed in her pants all over her slowly softening cock, cruel smirk in place. 

"give me some more," joy purred, pressing harder when the older woman jerked back. "be a good girl."

seulgi whimpered when she could no longer move further, backside practically molding into the door's interior.

what was touch that expertly balanced itself on the tightrope between pleasure and pain terrifyingly morphed into torture; joy's hands were unyielding, fluttering over seulgi's flaccid shaft and grating the material of her clothes onto her sensitive skin. 

"more?" 

seulgi shook her head frantically, legs trembling but curiously remaining wide open at the mercy of her lover. 

"i see," joy hummed, ministrations abating. seulgi let out a sound between disappointment and relief. 

joy was a good lover and an even better listener; it was just that sometimes seulgi wasn't sure of her own wants and desires. she knew it hurt, a little bit, to be fervently stimulated seconds after cumming, but–she still wanted it somehow. 

seulgi whined through the cloth, gyrating her hips once again. she wanted–she didn't know. hopefully joy could figure it out for her. 

"shhh, i know, sweetheart." 

joy continued to coo as she quickly unbuckled seulgi's pants and pulled her soiled underwear down. seulgi saw her bite her lip before readjusting herself, comfortably fitting in the rest of the backseat that seulgi wasn't occupying. 

then she curled forward, mouth hovering seulgi's cock. "gonna clean you up 'til you're good as new, baby." 

the first lick sent seulgi reeling, knocking the back of her head against the window behind her. her lower body was past the point of quivering, now shaking to the core as joy lapped her up dutifully, slurping down her seed. 

the texture of her tongue didn't change, but somehow the press of it felt rough, chafing against her oversensitive skin. there was no more room for seulgi to shy away from joy's mouth. the long minutes it took for her to be clean from all her spunk allowed her dick to stir back to life in joy's loving hands, aching once again, as if the pleasure she’d received until that point was negligible. 

when joy started pumping her again, slowly, all seulgi could do was take what she was being given. her sense of self melted away under joy's expertise, forgetting all about the overstimulation, her ruined clothes, and even the fundraiser. instead, the world was made of only her and joy; her lover's mouth, her warmth, the sound of their breathing. 

it felt like time both moved at a glacial and erratic pace for seulgi, as joy gently unbound her arms and released the hold of the cloth on her jaw. instead of retreating from the overbearing touch, however, seulgi let her limbs melt around joy's body and lazily pulled her closer.

now that seulgi's mouth and arms were free, she sang praises into joy's ear and slithered her own hand up the woman's dress. 

"so wet," seulgi managed to hum, rubbing circles onto the taller woman's swollen nub, mixing both of their groans and gasps. 

she dipped her fingers in her lover, causing a long moan to be yanked out of joy that seulgi answered with a deep, sensual kiss. 

"joy," seulgi sobbed, rutting against the pace the taller woman set as she pumped her slick cock, twisting each time she reached her mushroomed head. her member was aching, craving for joy's familiar velvet heat. "joy."

"c-come closer, baby. i can help," joy gasped as seulgi's fingers slipped out of her, stripping off her own panties and pulling her skirt up. she widened her legs so seulgi's narrow hips could slot between them, and when she aligned the woman's shaft at her entrance, steadily inching down to swallow seulgi's dick–

"oh christ, seul, seul you're so fucking good to me–"

"–joy, haah, joy pleaseplease–" 

the older woman cried out with a throaty scream the moment joy's ass met her pelvis, her girlfriend's pussy made just for her. she jerked up into the taller woman, setting an unforgiving and brutal tempo that her lover took in stride, understanding her desperation. she asked for this, after all. 

seulgi felt the churning in her gut make its presence known once more, liquid heat pooling in her balls. "i'm–hgck, ffffuck, joy!" 

her lover only ground her hips down harder, stoking the fire that was burning in the smaller woman. "g-give it to me, seul, give m-me everything," joy hissed out, bouncing atop her as she trembled and showed signs of reaching her own peak.

only the sound of flesh slapping against flesh cut through their rhythmic cries. it took three more harsh thrusts until seulgi came again–an even bigger load this time, painting the walls of joy's fluttering, clenching pussy with her hot seed. 

the lovers rode their highs for several long seconds together, mixing their body heat fluids as they came back down to reality. 

seulgi blinked out of her post coital stupor only to get lost in thought again, because holy fuck. that was amazing–and so much better than how seulgi thought her dedicated stress relief session would go. 

when she said she wanted to be dominated both mentally and physically by her lover, seulgi thought joy would resort to power play involving names and other verbally demeaning acts triggered by her fake wardrobe malfunction in the event of the made-up important fundraiser. she was not expecting all of this.

usually, their sessions would go with both taking charge–unless it was explicitly stated beforehand that one would dominate. this time, seulgi requested for joy to be in control. she wanted the chance to loosen her figuratively coiled body and mindset that were caused by the high-stress, fast-paced work environment she was constantly exposed to. 

… and if this was how it was going to go, leaving her a sloppy mess at the mercy of her partner looming above her–well. she should really ask for joy to dom more often. maybe even beg outside the bedroom. 

seulgi's mind was so clouded by bliss, she could barely tell when joy finished cleaning them both up. she only realised so when she heard the zipper of her slacks close. 

"you feeling better?" joy asked, expression of cruelty replaced by one of fondness as she caressed seulgi's sweaty hair from her face. 

"mhm." seulgi's voice was raw with adoration. the form and presence of her lover were large and reassuring; seulgi felt like she was so small in comparison. "take me home?"

"whatever my girl wants."

the trip back to their apartment passed by in a blur. seulgi tucked her hands in her lap and directed her gaze from the road to the roadside to what she could make out as joy's silhouette from her backseat view.

only when they arrived at their own car park did seulgi realise that they were previously at friend's apartment complex, making use of her dedicated tenant parking slot. 

trust in joy to plan so thoroughly. public sex wasn't exactly a crime either of them wanted to go to jail for, after all. she probably bribed irene for it. 

joy carefully guided seulgi every step of the way as they returned home, pulling her out of the car and holding her in her arms during the lift ride. 

seulgi sighed as joy closed the bathroom door behind her, dazedly watching her lover strip her in the mirror. she smiled when she saw what joy wrote on her chest. 

"easy, now." joy's voice cut through seulgi's floating thoughts. the older woman blinked as her lover sat her down in the warm bath, eventually sighing as the chill of the night air was chased away. "i've got you," joy assured her, her own naked form slipping in between seulgi's back and the end of the tub. 

the older woman could only lean back against joy and hum, quietly observing and feeling the way the other woman's hands ran over her flesh. 

she watched the lipstick wash away from her chest. the word 'mine' that had been written melted away, replaced by joy's strong fingers massaging her muscles and joy's plump lips pressing against the junction between her neck and shoulder, whispering sweet nothings. yours. 

[vhsrights]

What Not To Do On A Movie Date

a movie date - @bridget19

Jemily has a fun day at the movies planned. :)

WC: 1369

“Come on, babe! Let’s go! I don’t wanna be late for the movie!” JJ stood with her hand on the doorknob, checking her watch for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, yeah, babe I’m coming! Give me a second.” Emily called out from somewhere inside the apartment.

“If you take any longer, I’m leaving you here.” The blonde called out to her scatter-brained girlfriend.

“NO, no. Hold on, Jayje, I said I needed a second.” Emily reappeared from behind the kitchen wall, tugging at the straps of the tote bag in her hand.

Her dress shirt was tucked into khaki pants; its deep emerald color contrasting light blue bag. Emily fiddled with the buttons for a few more seconds before looking back at JJ. Her girlfriend was wearing a white and yellow sundress that was covered in lemon patterns. JJ’s blonde hair was loosely curled back, topped by her floppy, beige sun hat.

“Oh shoot!” Emily smacked her forehead, hiding the smirk on her face.

“What? What did you forget?” JJ turned around as they walked down the hall to the stairs.

“They don’t allow outside snacks in there! How am I going to get you into the theater?” Emily chuckled as JJ rolled her eyes.

“Oh my god, Em.” She smiled brightly and grabbed the brunette’s hand, turning the corner to the staircase.

The women walked outside and let the gentle sun hit their faces. They had decided to walk to the theater because it was only 20 minutes away and the air was relaxing. When JJ and Emily had been looking at apartments, the proximity to the city and its movie theaters had been a big plus. JJ walked slightly ahead of Emily, her eagerness spilling over into her quick steps. Her fingers were still laced with Emily’s as they made their way down the sidewalk.

The day was beautiful and the happy couple let each bit of its positive energy boost their mood. Occasional chirps from birds that fluttered from post to post and the whirr of passing cars filled their ears. Spread-out trees provided patchy shade with their tall canopies and were often surrounded by little patches of yellow or white flowers.

At one point, Emily pulled her phone to take a picture of her girlfriend. JJ didn’t notice the camera and continued to frolic forward, her ease apparent on her face. This sunny day felt like a reprieve after their long weeks stuck inside for their jobs. Traveling for work was one thing, but JJ and Emily loved enjoying things in the comfort of home as well.

They approached the final crosswalk, the theater in sight. JJ waited for Emily to catch up to her before wrapping her arms around Emily’s. She stayed close at the brunette’s side as they finished their walk to their destination. The large lights and signs outside the theater were like a unique gem in the middle of their residential area. JJ stopped outside the door.

“Okay, so I bought us tickets to see ‘Isn’t It Romantic’ with Rebel Wilson, Adam Devine, and Priyanka Chopra. I know you said that you “don’t like romcoms” but trust me, I’ve seen clips. You’re gonna like it.” Emily rolled her eyes before raising JJ’s hand to kiss it.

“Alright, I’m trusting you on this one. But if it’s cheesy and bad, I’m making you watch a Russian movie with me with no distractions.”

“Oh shut up, you know you love the cheesy ones just as much as I do, babe. So, what’s in the bag that took you so long to grab?” The blonde gestured to her tote, her eyebrows raised.

“Maybe, but I don’t have to admit. That? You’ll see.” Emily gave a fleeting answer and pulled JJ into the building.

She kept the smirk on her face as they stood in line to get their tickets printed. JJ wouldn’t get an answer until they were inside the theater. Every time the blonde asked, Emily simply leaned over and kissed her. It was a good way to get JJ off her case for a bit. Eventually, JJ gave up and simply leaned against Emily as they waited their turn.

5 minutes later, the women had their tickets and Emily directed JJ to the ticket checker rather than the concessions stand. JJ looked at her girlfriend with confusion. She knew that JJ needed snacks in the movie, and enjoyed having food with the picture. So what was she doing? “Um, Em, what about snacks?” JJ spoke, hoping to understand Emily’s behavior.

“Yeah, what about them?” Emily forgot that JJ had no idea about her plan, being the reason for the tote bag.

“Aren’t we going to get them from the concessions?”

“Jen, those cost an arm and a leg. We are not paying 30 bucks for some buttered popcorn and a watered-down Pepsi. Plus, I have a plan.”

Still confused, JJ decided to trust her girlfriend. They walked up to the ticket check station and no employee was in sight. Emily made an executive decision (to save them time and reduce the chances of getting caught) and pulled JJ past the line, towards their theater.

“Trust me,” Emily said as she pushed through the big door.

“Always,” JJ answered without hesitation as they walked to the back row.

Emily set her bag down and let JJ go to her seat. The movie had been in theaters for a while and they had missed it for the sake of cases, so the room was mostly empty. The only other people they could see was a middle-aged couple sitting a few rows in front of them.

Emily finally opened the tote and showed JJ what she had been holding.

“Oh. My. God. Look at all these snacks! When did you have time to do this?” JJ looked up at Emily incredulously.

“I may have been stockpiling them for a bit. Go nuts, Jen. I got pretty much everything you like in here.” Emily beamed back at her girlfriend, watching JJ grab the bag of Cheetos on top first.

The movie started soon after and the two settled in their seats. They laughed with Rebel Wilson’s quips and her exaggerated obliviousness to Adam Devine. Emily made a joke that it was like them before they got together. JJ rolled her eyes.

The movie was enjoyable for both, filled with enough laughs and cheesy moments to have a perfect balance. JJ and Emily were both focused until JJ felt her feelings peak with love. The movie was channeling her inner romantic, so she lightly turned Emily’s face to the side and kissed her. Emily must have been feeling the same thing because she returned the favor.

They kissed again and the movie became long forgotten. JJ’s lips moved against Emily’s and that was all that mattered. Emily and JJ didn’t happen to notice the middle-aged woman approach their row with a theater employee. The bright light of his flashlight finally pushed the two apart.

“I’m sorry ladies, but we have a no PDA rule in here. You’re gonna have to leave.” His voice was dejected. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be telling two grown women to stop making out in the back of the theater.

“Yeah, I suggest you leave before you distract me and my husband from more of our movie.” The woman beside him chirped up, earning death glares from both of the agents. Any other annoying remarks died in her throat.

“Okay, fine. We’ll be out of your hair.” JJ spoke quickly but surely, making sure that Emily didn’t blow up at the lady.

“Ma’am? I don’t think you should be worried about your husband. He saw this movie a couple of days ago with his girlfriend, Becky, is it?” Emily made one last snide comment before they walked out.

All they heard from inside the theater was exasperated cursing from the lady that had them kicked out. Emily’s bluffing comeback had actually worked. She giggled as she and JJ made their way out of the building. The day was still young, and the street was filled with options.

At least now they knew what not to do on a movie date.

[starlightbuck]

i wanna be known (by you)

part 2/2 || word count: 5.9k || read on AO3

When he leaves, Eddie checks his phone. Even after all that time he spent obsessing over what to wear, he still managed to arrive at the restaurant early. He left his name and Buck’s at the front so that whenever Buck arrives, he would be led right to their table. It was a conscious decision on Eddie’s part to sit so that he’s facing the front door, that way he can see the moment Buck steps foot inside.

In the meantime, Eddie focuses on keeping his heart from beating right out of his chest. This is the first date that he’s been on in years and it’s safe to say that his nerves are getting the best of him. It’s just that, he likes Buck. Really likes him, which feels almost stupid to say considering the fact that they’ve never officially met.

It is what it is though, a side-effect of living in a world where online dating has become a norm.

Eddie adjusts the sleeve of his light blue button-up for the third time in less than five minutes. Maybe he should’ve gone with the green long-sleeve instead. It was Abuela that convinced him that he looked more handsome in light blue. Then again, she might’ve just said that to get Eddie to stop fussing over his outfit and actually leave the house on time.

“Good evening, sir. Can I take your order?”

“I’m actually going to wait for my date to arrive before ordering anything.”

The older gentleman nods in understanding. “Of course.”

When he leaves, Eddie checks his phone. Even after all that time he spent obsessing over what to wear, he still managed to arrive at the restaurant early. He left his name and Buck’s at the front so that whenever Buck arrives, he would be led right to their table. It was a conscious decision on Eddie’s part to sit so that he’s facing the front door, that way he can see the moment Buck steps foot inside.

In the meantime, Eddie focuses on keeping his heart from beating right out of his chest. This is the first date that he’s been on in years and it’s safe to say that his nerves are getting the best of him. It’s just that, he likes Buck. Really likes him, which feels almost stupid to say considering the fact that they’ve never officially met.

It is what it is though, a side-effect of living in a world where online dating has become a norm.

When Eddie checks his phone again, he sees that it’s a couple of minutes past the time that him and Buck agreed to meet at the restaurant. Eddie goes into their text conversation to make sure he sent the right address. When he sees that he has, he locks his phone and waits. The restaurant is located in downtown LA and traffic is bound to be a nightmare, especially on a Friday night.

Twenty minutes later, the waiter comes back to the table to ask if Eddie wants to place his drink order. He asks for water.

Five minutes after that, the waiter is back at the table refilling the glass of water Eddie all but chugged in an attempt to distract himself from his date’s absence. He texted Buck to see where he was but has yet to receive a response.

Another twenty minutes pass before the waiter is back at Eddie’s table.

“I’m so sorry, sir. But if you’re not planning on ordering anything-”

“It’s fine.” Eddie is already out of his seat and tugging his jacket off of the back of his seat. He’s sure that his cheeks are stained red by the shame he feels about being stood up like this, but it’s nothing in comparison to the disappointment coursing through him. “I’m leaving. Thank you for your kindness.”

He leaves a $20 bill on the table and walks out of the restaurant without looking back.

Buck doesn’t get back to him that night or the night afterwards.

“It’s my own fault,” he tells Hen as they work together to clean the fire truck. It’s been four days since his failed date with Buck and just as long since he’s heard from him.  “I was stupid for thinking I could actually trust someone I met through an app.”

“You’re not stupid,” Hen counters. “He is for missing out on the chance of being with someone as amazing as you.”

He knows Hen’s trying to make him feel better, but the words fall flat. If he’s so amazing, how come Buck didn’t show up? Why did he ghost him? Is it something he said during one of their conversations? Did he scare Buck away without even realizing it?

The worst part is, Eddie misses him. Him, this person Eddie never even had a chance to meet. But it’s true. There’s a Buck-shaped void in Eddie’s life, one that he’s struggling to fill. He got used to their daily phone calls and texts and losing both so suddenly has left Eddie feeling like an addict being forced to quit his habit cold turkey.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches Chim making his way over to them. The last thing he wants is someone else weighing in on this whole situation. “Can we drop this?”

Hen looks less than pleased by the request but does as she’s asked. “Hey, Chim.”

“Did you guys hear about that big accident that happened Friday night?” Chim asks, in lieu of a greeting.

Eddie visibly winces at the mention of Friday and Hen places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, never once taking her eye off of Chim. “No, what happened?”

“Apparently there was some kind of explosion and a guy ended up trapped under his Jeep. It took-”

Eddie tunes out of the conversation and steps out from under Hen’s hand so he can move on to a different spot of the truck to clean.

After a week of radio silence from Buck, Eddie deletes every single one of the dating apps he has on his phone. He tried using a few and reached out to a couple of people, but none of them ever felt right. And, with the sting of Buck’s rejection still weighing heavily on his mind, Eddie didn’t feel like he could fully trust any of the people he was messaging anyways.

He contemplates deleting Buck’s number, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

Eddie compromises by putting Buck’s messages on Do Not Disturb.

That same weekend, May catches Eddie alone at a family barbecue being held at the Nash-Grant household.

“What ever happened with that cute guy you were talking to? Buck, right?”

Eddie stills and his breath gets lodged in his throat. He hates that he reacts so viscerally to the name. “It didn’t work out.”

Two weeks later, Chris is playing with his dad’s phone as the two of them make the drive to Abuela's house for Sunday dinner.

“Daddy, your phone says you have eight new messages.”

Eddie’s gaze briefly meets his son’s through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again. He doesn’t remember seeing any new messages when he was on his phone a few minutes ago. “Just ignore them, Chris.”

Eddie has no way of knowing that his son doesn’t heed his advice, choosing instead to go to his dad’s messages app to see who’s sent him that many messages.

“Daddy, can I use your phone?”

Chris has made it a habit as of late to ask Eddie for his phone and his father doesn’t know what to make of that. The last thing he wants is for his son to become reliant on the device to keep him entertained. He knows how slippery that slope can be.

“How about we use those legos that Uncle Bobby bought you instead?”

Eddie expects Chris to be excited about the prospect of using his legos, but all Eddie gets is a pout. “Please? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

As his father, Eddie should be better at denying Chris’s requests even when a pout is involved. But there are days when Eddie will think back to how much of Chris’s life he missed out on while overseas and it makes it impossible for him to say no.

“Fine,” he relents. Chris cheers as Eddie passes his phone over to his son. “But you can only be on it for ten minutes.”

“Okay!”

Eddie makes it a point to check the time on his watch so he can cut Chris off exactly at ten minutes, before getting up to grab the lego set from Chris’s room. By the time he comes back, his son is smiling and laughing at his phone. Eddie assumes he’s either watching a video or playing one of the games he has downloaded on the phone. Since Eddie doesn't hear any voices or music, he assumes it’s the latter.

Two minutes before his time is up, Chris gets up off the couch and hands his father’s phone back to him. “I’m ready to play with my legos now.”

Eddie slides his phone into his back pocket and settles his son on the floor beside him so they can work on their building project together.

“Daddy, my friend is having a bad day.”

Eddie, who’s in the middle of doing the dishes, doesn’t look up. He’s too concentrated on getting the charred remains of his attempt at making pasta off of the pan before it’s too late. If Abuela finds out that he ruined yet another pan with his cooking attempts, he’s almost certain that she’ll disown him. “I’m sorry to hear that, bud.”

“You have to talk to him.”

“Why me?” Eddie turns on the hot water in the hopes that that’ll make this whole process easier.

Christopher huffs, a habit that he’s recently picked up. Eddie doesn’t know where his son learned it from, but he can’t say that he’s a fan of it. It acts as a reminder that his son is growing up and, as much as Eddie wishes he could stop time, it’s not possible. “Because he’s your friend too.”

And that is enough to turn Eddie away from the task at hand. “My friend?”

Christopher puts the phone back to his ear. “I think my daddy forgot about you. I’m going to put him on so he can help you feel better.”

Eddie watches in stunned silence as his son walks over to his side and holds the phone out to him. Chris has that determined look on his face that Eddie is sure he’s seen staring back at him in the mirror. The shock of seeing that expression on anyone other than himself is what prompts Eddie to answer the phone without glancing at the screen to see who it is he’s talking to. “Hello?”

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s still looking at his son, but he’s not really seeing him. His mind is too busy producing images of a man with golden hair, unfairly blue eyes, and a bruise-like birthmark. “Buck?”

It’s been almost a month since Eddie last heard from the other man. He had assumed that the time apart had been enough to erase his presence from Eddie’s mind and dull the effect he felt upon hearing Buck’s voice, but he was wrong. His heart is beating out a rapid cadence and the hand he’s using to hold his phone is shaking slightly. And how, how can he still be reacting like this to someone he’s never met?

“Eddie.”

“I don’t- I-” Words are failing him spectacularly and it annoys Eddie to no end. After the first few days of not hearing back from Buck, Eddie had worked up this whole monologue of things he would say to him. But weeks have passed and everything he thought he’d say when given the chance has all but flown out the window. Then he sees his son, the same person who definitely shouldn’t know who Buck is, sitting at the kitchen table and Eddie knows exactly what he wants to say. “Why the hell were you on the phone with my kid?”

“I can explain-”

“No,” Eddie interjects, feeling all of his anger towards Buck come bubbling back to the surface. He never found an outlet for his emotions after everything fell apart and now it’s coming back full force. Eddie is mindful of the fact that his son is only a few feet away. If not for that, this conversation would be a lot less child-friendly. “No. You stood me up and now, what? You’re using my kid to get back in my good graces?”

Buck has the good sense to not say anything, apparently already prepared for the verbal lashing he was set to receive from Eddie. His silence only works against him as something else occurs to Eddie. “How did you even get in contact with him? Through my phone?”

“I found his messages on your phone,” Chris answers, too young and innocent to identify his father’s tense and poised to lash out demeanor. “There was a little moon next to Buck’s name that was hiding his messages from you. But I saw them, so I responded.”

A lesson about privacy is not something Eddie thought he’d have to have with his son this early on in his life, but apparently it is. Eddie lowers the phone to address his son. “Remember when I told you in the past that you can’t take things that don’t belong to you? The same goes for whatever things you see on my phone, including messages I get from people.”

Chris’s lower lip juts outs and he lowers his head. “I’m sorry, daddy. But I liked talking to Buck. He’s nice.”

It’s the mention of what sounds like an ongoing conversation between Buck and Chris that leads Eddie to open his messages. Right there at the top of the screen with a half-moon next to it is Buck’s name.

Eddie likes to believe he’s an observant person, that the time he spent as a medic on the battlefield made it so that he was equipped to take notice of minor details that others might not. For him, having that ability could mean the difference between life and death for those he was treating. It’s an ability he thought he brought home with him, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe it’s something he’s only good at when out in the field and not while at home with his own son. It’s the only way he can think to explain how he missed the fact that Chris was texting someone he didn’t know with his dad’s phone.

Eddie scrolls through the texts between his son and Buck then. There aren’t too many messages, only a handful of them sent every couple of days, but enough to prove that the two of them have been talking for at least two weeks now. Buck regularly tells Chris that, although he’s happy to talk to him, he’s not sure how Eddie would feel about it. Every time, Chris says that his father won’t mind.

Then, before any outgoing messages from Chris show up, there are a string of messages from Buck that were obviously meant to be read by Eddie.

The first three came through the day after Eddie muted their text conversation.

Buck (12:24pm): I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now but I promise I can explain everything.

Buck (12:25pm): call me if you can?

Buck (8:59pm): okay so you haven’t responded which I understand. I didn’t show up for our date and it’s been over a week since you heard from me but please call me whenever you see this? You deserve better than me explaining myself over text

The next two messages come a day later.

Buck (4:05pm): i deserve the cold shoulder but I promise I can explain

Buck (8:42pm): please let me explain

There’s another message almost a week later.

Buck (6:45am): I really messed this up, didn’t I?

Another message comes a couple days after that.

Buck (3:26pm): I’m so sorry eddie

Then there is one final message from him right before Chris started responding on Eddie’s behalf.

Buck (1:42am): I’ll stop texting you now.

“Eddie?” His name is spoken timidly and it takes Eddie back to the nights he once spent on the phone with Buck. “Are you still there?”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, not sure what to make of all of the messages he’s read. Buck says he has a reason for not showing up, but he never actually said what it was. Eddie hates that, even though all of this time has passed, he still wants to know why he was stood up.

It shouldn’t matter, but it does.

“Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry,” he pauses and then adds, “for everything.”

The apology tugs at the part of Eddie’s heart that wasn’t ready, or willing, to accept that Buck stood him up and then ghosted him for no reason.

Eddie is tempted to say, ‘it’s fine’. It’s what he would usually do, brush aside his feelings and absolve someone else of their wrongdoing. It would be annoyingly easy to do, but he stops himself before he says anything because it’s not fine. Not really. “Okay.”

Neither of them says anything and it’s a strange feeling, being on the phone with Buck and not having a single thing to say. Eddie can’t remember that ever being the case in the past during their phone calls. There hadn’t been a month of silence between them back then though. The weight of that hangs heavily over the both of them.

“Well I should-” Eddie begins just as Buck says, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Anything you can do?”

“To make it up to you,” Buck explains, the words rushing out of him as if he’s scared that Eddie will hang up on him before hearing him out. “If not that, at least let me give you a proper explanation of why I disappeared like I did.”

Eddie doesn’t owe Buck anything, but he does owe it to himself to properly turn the page on this chapter of his life.

“Fine.” Eddie hears something that sounds vaguely like a person choking, but he chooses not to comment on it. “But I choose where we’re going, and I plan to bring someone with me.”

“Deal.”

“And, if you stand me up again, you have to leave me alone. For good this time.”

“Understood, but that won’t happen again. I swear. Thanks for giving me a second chance, Eddie.”

“Thanks for coming with us, May.”

May shrugs and takes a sip of the caramel frappuccino Eddie bought her. “It doesn’t take much to convince me to come to Starbucks.”

He appreciates her nonchalance about this whole situation. Initially, Eddie only planned to have Chris tag along with him. The more he thought about it though, the better he thought it’d be better to have an extra person tag along with the both of them. What if there was a conversation that needed to be had between Buck and Eddie alone? Eddie couldn’t, wouldn’t, just abandon his son to accomplish that.

His first thought was to invite Hen along with him, but then he remembered the conversation he had with May about Buck and knew that she was the perfect choice.

“Mmm!” To Eddie’s left, Chris is smiling happily after taking a sip of his strawberry smoothie. “This is really good.”

“I told you you’d like it.” May ruffles Chris’s hair, much to his son’s amusement.

Eddie wants to be strong enough to not glance at the coffee shop’s entrance every few seconds, but he’s not. This is only too reminiscent of the night Buck stood him up and he’s not ready for things to play out like that again.

“Eddie, you alright?”

It’s May that asks the question, but it’s both her and Chris who are carefully watching Eddie.

“I’m fine.” May pointedly stares at him, putting him on the defensive “What? I am.”

She doesn’t say anything, her gaze catching on something that leads her to push her chair back and walk towards the front of the coffee shop. He tracks her movements, unsure of what motivated the sudden need to get it up. It’s not until she pulls the door open and holds it that he understands. The person who’s walking inside is on crutches and had no way of opening the door himself.

It’s not just anyone that she’s holding the door open for though, it’s Buck.

Eddie learned early on in life that it’s rude to stare, but he can’t help himself. How is it possible that Buck looks even better in person? Aren’t pictures supposed to be more flattering than real-life?

May must also recognize him because she’s the one who leads Buck to the table where Eddie and Chris are sitting. She grabs a chair for him so he can join them before taking her seat beside Eddie again. Eddie is sure they’re quite the sight - him in the middle being flanked by a teenager and a child sitting across from a man who easily towers over all three of them and looks like he’s made up entirely of muscle.

“Hi,” Buck greets, resting his crutches against the table. They’re almost twice as tall as Chris’s crutches.

It’s jarring to hear his voice in person when Eddie’s only ever heard him speak over the phone. “Hi.”

“You didn’t tell me you have crutches too!” Chris exclaims a little too loudly. A couple of heads turn in their direction, but Chris pays them no mind.

Buck’s smile is soft as he looks over at Chris and oh, that’s really not fair. Eddie became familiar with Buck’s smile through the photos he used for his dating profile, but this is different. Not only is Eddie seeing it in person for the first time, it’s being directed at the most important person in Eddie’s life - his son. “And you must be Christopher, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“What happened to your leg?”

“Chris,” Eddie warns, even though it’s the same question on his mind. As far as he knew, there had never been anything wrong with Buck’s leg.

“I’m May,” May cuts in, saving them from what could’ve been an awkward conversation and holding out her hand for Buck to shake. He does, seemingly unphased by the people Eddie decided to bring along with him.

“Buck. Thanks for holding the door open for me back there.”

“Sure.” She stands up again and Eddie wonders if there’s someone else she’s about to hold the door open for. Instead, she grabs her drink and Chris’s. “Chris and I are gonna go sit at that empty table over there so you guys can talk.”

Chris goes willingly, allowing May to help him get his crutches on so they can walk over to the opposite end of the coffee shop. She lets Chris take the lead but turns back around momentarily to address Buck, “don’t you dare hurt him again.”

“Did she just threaten me?” Buck asks once May is out of earshot.

Eddie’s really glad he chose to bring her along. “I think so.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s only a teenager, but I’m still feeling intimidated.”

“You probably should. Her mom’s a cop.”

Eddie shouldn’t take joy in the way that Buck’s eyes widen at that piece of information, but he does. Good, let him squirm. It might put them back on equal footing because right now Eddie is disarmed by just how attractive Buck is, especially this close-up. How and why is someone allowed to have eyes that are that blue?

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

“Mhm.”

Buck rubs the back of his neck. Is that a nervous tick that he’s done before while on the phone with Eddie? “Can I get you anything? A drink? Scone? Cookie?”

“I’m fine.” Then, because they’re here for a reason, he says, “so, that explanation I was offered?”

“Right.” Buck tries to adjust his position, but in doing so, he accidentally knocks his cast against the pole below the table. He winces and Eddie almost does the same. “I was on my way to meet you at the restaurant when I got into an accident.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that statement. He was ready for some sort of pathetic excuse - Buck’s phone died, he confused the day or time of their date, an unforeseen but conveniently timed emergency kept him from showing up - which is why this reason has left him reeling.

“What?”

“I know it sounds fake or like a lie or whatever, but I swear I’m telling the truth.”

Eddie really has no explanation for knowing that Buck is telling the truth. It’s not like he’s had the chance to learn the nuances of Buck’s expression to parse out the truth in a sea of potential lies, but Eddie still believes him. It doesn’t make sense but sometimes the most important things in life just don’t.

All the righteous anger Eddie was holding onto for weeks seeps out of him in seconds. It leaves behind a void that is slowly filling up with a messy combination of concern, regret and sympathy. “I had no idea.”

“How could you?” Buck asks, smiling ruefully. He shifts in his seat again, searching for a comfortable position that Eddie’s sure he won’t find. Not with a cast as bulky as the one wrapped around his leg. He should probably be keeping it elevated, but Eddie refrains from saying so. “The details are pretty fuzzy. All I remember is one second, I was driving to the restaurant to meet up with you and then, out of nowhere, there was a loud boom and I was pinned under my Jeep.”

Something about this story is familiar, which doesn’t make any sense. Where could Eddie have heard it from if not from Buck himself?

“Considering the explosion itself, everyone keeps telling me that I’m lucky to be alive,” he continues, and Eddie can hear the ‘but’ in his voice. It’s as familiar to Eddie as the haunted look in Buck’s eyes, one that Eddie used to see reflected back at him when he first came home from his last deployment. It’s a look he still sometimes sees after rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face after a particularly bad nightmare. Before Eddie can say anything about it, Buck blinks and whatever other emotion was attempting to bubble to the surface is efficiently cut off. “My phone wasn’t as lucky though.”

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs, hand itching to reach out and cover Buck’s. He knows trauma and the last thing he wants is to put Buck in a position where he’s forced to relive his own.

“My sister was able to replace it for me and I had it backed up to my computer so restoring it was easy, but I wasn’t in a talking mood,” Buck presses on, acting as if he hadn’t heard Eddie say his name. “I did think about you though. It was one of my first thoughts when I woke up in the hospital, but I don’t know. How do you tell someone you’ve never met but have very real feelings for that you’re in for a long road to recovery? That’s a lot to put on anyone - I couldn’t do that to you.”

Buck’s last statement is punctuated by a laugh that sounds like it physically pains him. Eddie wants to say something, anything, but he’s never been any good with words. He can’t even figure out if there is a right thing to say. Him and Buck are stuck in an awkward middle ground that exists as a result of online dating.

It’s something Eddie had read about before what was supposed to be his and Buck’s first time meeting. There were countless testimonials about people who had been in virtual contact struggling to find that same spark when meeting in person. It was enough to scare Eddie at the time, but not enough to keep him from showing up at the restaurant that night.

In all the articles he read though, there was never any mention about what to do when the man you’re supposed to meet up with ends up in an accident, doesn’t speak to you for a month, and then suddenly makes a reappearance.

“Anyways,” Buck says, eyes darting down to the table. “I get it. To you, it seemed like I stood you up and then ghosted you and that’s pretty unforgivable. I just wanted to apologize for that and I’m really glad you gave me the chance to do so.”

Buck keeps his eyes downcast and that’s when Eddie realizes this is it, this is everything that Buck showed up today to tell him. There’s nothing else to be said and it leaves Eddie with a steadily growing pit in his stomach.

This isn’t the way things were supposed to work out. They shouldn’t be meeting up for the first time a month after what should’ve been their first date. Buck shouldn’t be sitting across from Eddie, unable to look at him. Eddie shouldn’t already be missing Buck even though he’s not gone.

In a perfect world, or at least a better one, Buck wouldn’t have ended up in that car accident that night. He would’ve made it to the restaurant like he intended to and whatever was growing between him and Eddie could’ve had a chance to continue blooming. But they don’t live in a perfect world and Buck did get into an accident on his way to see Eddie and how is it fair for Eddie to condemn Buck for something that was out of his control?

These thoughts all come at Eddie faster than he can fully reconcile them, all because it sounds like Buck is gearing up to say goodbye and Eddie’s not ready to hear it.

It makes zero sense that he feels this way. Then again, online dating didn’t make sense to him until he tried it out. Maybe this, holding onto Buck instead of letting him go again, is something else that won’t make sense until Eddie tries it.

And that’s the truth of the matter here, isn’t it? Eddie lost his chance with Buck once thanks to a freak accident and now that a second chance has appeared seemingly out of thin air, Eddie’s not ready to let go again.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he decides to repeat some of the words Buck had spoken earlier, the same ones that Eddie’s brain had latched onto the moment they were said. “Very real feelings, huh?”

Eddie sure as hell has never been one to vocalize the way he feels and it’s refreshing to come across someone that does. Then again, haven’t conversations with Buck always been this way? Him speaking exactly what’s on his mind while Edde sat back and wondered what it would take for him to do the same?

“That’s what you took away from everything I just told you?” Buck’s cheeks are a light shade of pink when he says this and Eddie decides he likes that much more than the sad eyes and the goodbye in Buck’s voice from earlier.

“Is there anything else about that statement that I should’ve focused on?”

There’s not a hint of hesitation in Buck's voice only seconds later when he responds. “No, I guess not.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They stare at each other in companionable silence then and something warm settles in Eddie’s chest. He can’t give it a name, not yet. All he knows is that it’s been too long since he last felt it and what are the odds that it would come back to him in a coffee shop of all places? It’s annoyingly cliché and, if anyone were to question Eddie about it, he’d deny it until his dying breath.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

Buck sounds hopeful and it tugs at a chord deep within Eddie’s heart, as if the younger man believes that forgiveness is something he must earn and that’s not readily deserved. It’s something Eddie knows all too well. It’s also something he's willing to give Buck. no additional questions asked.

“It means there’s nothing to forgive.”

This time Eddie does reach for Buck’s hand. Buck’s fingers slide within the gaps of Eddie’s with the kind of familiarity that should only exist between couples who have known each other much longer than Buck and Eddie have. Then again, the two have known each other, albeit virtually, for a fair amount of time. There’s more merit to that than Eddie realized.

It might be too soon to think this, but Eddie believes this - holding Buck’s hand -  is something he can get used to.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

“Thank you for striking up a conversation with my son.”

The statement is ridiculous if Buck’s laughter is anything to go off of, but it’s also the truth. Without Christopher, none of this would be possible. Eddie wouldn’t be seated here, across from the man who’s stupid dating profile bio and indescribable good looks were, and still are, almost too good to be true.

“Do you think we should invite Chris and the cop’s daughter back to the table? They’re very openly staring at us.”

When Eddie follows Buck’s gaze, he sees that the younger man is correct. Both Chris and May are scrutinizing them. May much more so than Chris, but it’s obvious that they’re both staring. “I think you’re right.”

With a subtle nod on Eddie’s part, May jumps out of her seat and helps Chris do the same. Her patience with his son is something Eddie refuses to ever overlook. She makes sure to carry Chris’s unfinished drink for him as the two of them make their way back to the table. May helps Chris get comfortable in the seat beside his father before reclaiming her seat on the other side of Eddie.

“Looks like you two worked things out.” May says, her brown eyes focused on Eddie and Buck’s intertwined hands.

Buck tugs loosely on Eddie’s hand, maybe to let go of his hand to make things a little less obvious, but Eddie doesn’t let him. Now that he has committed to giving things another shot, he refuses to let anything deter him. That includes an over-invested teenager and her too-observant eyes. He can trust May to keep this from her mother and stepfather for now, even if it means bribing her with more trips to Starbucks in the future.

“It looks like we did.”

Then. because his son is too smart for his own good, Chris also notices that Eddie and Buck’s hands are clasped over the table between them. “Does this mean you like him too, daddy?”

Buck looks far more amused than he has any right to. It’s not fair but, at the same time, it’s such a welcome contrast from the way Buck had looked earlier that Eddie has no desire to voice his objections. “I do, buddy.”

“You see. I told you he was your friend.” Eddie would be exasperated by his son’s know-it-all tone if not for the fact that it’s entirely warranted. “Can we keep him?”

Eddie should probably correct Chris, explain that Buck is a person and not an object that can be kept. He doesn’t only because, as his mind has a tendency to do, Eddie immediately starts thinking about worst case scenarios. In this case, it’s one Eddie already experienced. It consisted of a long month full of casting frequent glances at a silent phone and nights where he wished a soothing voice might fill his ears and help lull him to sleep.

Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand, bringing him back to the present and to his son who’s still expectantly waiting for his father’s answer.

Before saying anything, Eddie takes a moment to take in his surroundings. His son’s curious stare, May’s knowing smile and, finally, Buck’s encouraging grin. It’s not logical for Eddie to already be imagining a ‘Forever’ in his future with this man who he still has so much to learn about, but that’s not stopping him from doing so anyways.

“I really hope so, Chris.”

[etherealwaifgoddess]

One In A Million - Chpt.4

Summary: After a nearly perfect Thanksgiving Rose does her best to enjoy her final days in 1941 with the guys. As much as leaving will hurt, she takes comfort in knowing she’s doing the right thing. But sometimes, doing the right thing isn’t what you had planned. Content Warning for very brief sexual content.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! There is a whole lot packed into this chapter and I apologize for exactly none of it. Especially the last bit :D XOXO  - Ash

Chapter Four

You had expected a month in the 40s to feel like a long time but the first three weeks fly by before you can blink. You’ve adapted to life there pretty easily, though you do miss modern conveniences from time to time. There are moments where would murder for a Starbucks and just ten minutes with your iPhone. It’s worth it though. You are getting to see life in a completely different time period and learning so much more than you expected. Macie has been a great friend both at work and outside of it as well. It’s refreshing having a close female friend who you actually get to see frequently. You haven’t had regular girl time since you were studying for your bachelors degree. 

Bucky and Steve have become fixtures in your life even though you know the risk you’re running with timelines and realities. It’s only a month, you keep reminding yourself. You can’t change someone’s life that much in just a month. 

The guys come over for dinner more days than not during the week, and on weekends you find yourself hanging out with them those days too. You refuse to show either man any preference, not that you would be able to pick between them if you tried, and you hope it will keep either of them from getting any ideas. You wouldn’t do anything to intervene with what they have anyway, they’re perfect together. They both make comments from time to time about taking you out on a proper date but you just laugh off their sweet advances as nothing more than joking flattery. 

Despite Thanksgiving being abnormally late due to the way the weeks fell, the holiday sneaks up on you and you find yourself scrambling to find a turkey that Monday. The SSR office will be closed for Thanksgiving and the day after, giving you an unexpected four day weekend. The prices on meat and butter are up due to it being war time but you planned well and get everything you’ll need to make a traditional dinner for the three of you. You even get enough supplies to make both pumpkin and pecan pies. You’re looking forward to seeing Bucky’s face when he tastes the pecan pie, his sweet tooth is ridiculous. 

The girls in the typing pool are given leave at noon the day before Thanksgiving. It’s a thank you from the senior agents for their hard work and the assumption that the women will be busy in the kitchen preparing for the holiday. You don’t complain as you’re still being paid for the full week despite the time off and you hurry home to get started on the pies. 

When Steve and Bucky arrive on Thanksgiving they’re barely speaking to one another and the tension is palpable. Both men are cordial towards you but don’t spare so much as a word to the other. You settle in around your dining room table and after a few niceties from them about your cooking, the room quiets to the point where only the scraping of silverware on china can be heard. 

“Okay,” you say, setting your napkin on the table, “I’m not putting up with this shit.” two sets of eyes snap to your attention. “What on earth are you two fighting over?” 

Steve glares at Bucky who sends daggers of his own right back. “Why don’t you tell her, Steve from Murray Hill?” Bucky snipes at him. 

“Don’t start this at dinner. Please, Buck. I won’t apologize for it.” Steve grits out at him. 

“One of you had better start talking or I swear I’m throwing the pies out the window.” you threaten. 

Bucky sighs and scrubs a frustrated hand through his hair, “Stevie here went and tried to enlist again yesterday. Earned himself his fifth 4F letter. Claimed he was from Murray Hill this time. Because he’s so eager to get himself killed overseas instead of listening to what his doctors keep telling him.” 

“I’m only doing what’s right. Good men are putting their lives on the line for our country, why should I be any different?” Steve challenges, his voice low and firm.

“Because damn it Steve, you are different! What do you think you’re gonna do when your asthma stirs up in the middle of a firefight? Or when you get pneumonia again from being out in the damp cold for too long? God, or what happens when those coke bottle glasses of yours break and you can’t see two feet from your face?” Bucky’s trembling by the time his outburst is finished and he gets up, heading outside for a smoke to settle his nerves. 

“I’m sorry we ruined dinner, Rose.” Steve says quietly, his head hanging in shame and defeat.

“You did no such thing. But Steve, another 4F? Really?” you get up from your seat and go over to stand behind him, leaning over to hug him tightly. You know this is part of his story but it doesn’t make witnessing it any easier.

“I have to. My pa served in the first great war and it’s my turn now. I’m just doing what every man should.” 

You measure your words carefully, “You know if the doctors are worried about your health it’s probably for good reason, right?” 

“I know, but I manage just fine even with everything I’ve got going on. I can do it, I know I can.” 

“I’m sure you could, but sometimes life has different plans than we do.” you press a chaste kiss to his cheek and squeeze his thin shoulders just a little tighter for a moment. “I’m going to go check on Bucky, see if I can coax him back in so we can eat.” 

Steve nods as you grab your coat and head outside. 

Bucky is leaning against the wall of your apartment building, smoking; thick tendrils of blue smoke wafting up from his lips to the sky. He has to be freezing, having hurried out without his jacket. He watches you walk down the steps and over to him, studying you as if to try and figure out if you’re there to take his side or push Steve’s. 

“Hey you.” you say when you get in front of him, giving his boot a little kick with your shoe.

“Hey.” his tone is guarded and he looks tired. Your heart clenches, knowing how worried he must be about Steve.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this today. I mean… I get why he’s doing it. But it has to be hard for you to watch him do it.”

“It’s hell. He’s better than any of us, ya know? He wants to go do his ‘civic duty’ more than anything, regardless of what it’ll cost him. And here I am, terrified that my number is gonna be the next out of the fish bowl.” 

You pull Bucky into a tight embrace, holding onto him for dear life. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Bucky.” 

Bucky drops his cigarette and wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you back and letting your warmth leech through to his goose bumped skin. You want to tell him it’ll be okay but you know it won’t be. By this time next year he’ll have been drafted and off fighting in Azzano. Steve will keep trying until he meets Dr. Erskine and then it’s all history from there. 

You hold on for what feels like hours until Bucky finally pulls back. He gives a harsh sniff, his face ducked out of view and you suspect he’s hiding a few tears. You give him a minute, rubbing your hand from his shoulder to his elbow a few times in a meager offering of comfort. 

“You said there’s pie?” he asks finally.

You laugh at his question before pulling him in for a quick hug and a soft peck on the cheek. “Two kinds. But only if you eat your dinner first.” 

“Well then we should probably get back to it.” he slings an arm around your waist and together you rejoin Steve in the dining room. 

The air having been cleared, the rest of Thanksgiving dinner goes much better. You keep everyone's wine glasses full of the nice red wine you had found and stocked up on. It had been an unnecessary indulgence but you’re glad you had bought a few bottles to share. By the end of the meal their argument is long forgotten and Steve and Bucky are back to their normal bantering. You top off everyone’s glasses and move your little party to the living room to listen to President Roosevelt on the radio. The three of you are sprawled out on your sofa, limbs overlapping in a haphazard, yet comfortable, way. It’s probably not era appropriate in the least but the guys don’t seem to mind and you are too buzzed from the wine to worry. You giggle when you catch Bucky running his fingers through Steve’s hair and smiling down at him fondly. You wish more than anything you could tell them how sweet they are together, how absolutely right they are for each other, and that someday the world will be a friendlier place for their love. Instead you burrow yourself into the warmth of Steve’s chest and hum the tune of your favorite song, wishing you could hear it for a moment. 

“That’s pretty, what is it?” Steve asks when you’re done your sporadic humming.

“Ah, you haven’t heard of it.” you wave your hand dismissively, “We should go dancing.” you topic hop trying to avoid having to explain a song that won’t be written for another seventy years. 

“I’m in.” Bucky mumbles from the other side of Steve. “I’ll even keep Stevie from stepping on your toes.”

“It was one time!” Steve protests.

“I’ll wear sturdy shoes.” you assure them, “I want to dance with both of my guys.” 

Steve blushes lightly, “Oh, we’re yours now, are we?” 

You nod, the wine making you bold. “Yep. You’re stuck with me fellas.” 

“It ain’t a hardship, doll.” Bucky chimes in. 

The guys don’t stay late that night. While you have off work the following day neither of them do. You stretch out on the sofa which seems too big now that you’re the only one on it. Normally you would go out the weekend after Thanksgiving to start your Christmas shopping. You only buy big presents for a few close friends and you need time to have them picked out, wrapped, and shipped to arrive on time. You also pick up smaller things for the guys at work and you like to take your time picking things out so they are personalized for each person. You don’t have to do that right now though. It’s only October back in your real life and it’s not like you plan to take anything back with you. Well, not much anyway. You have a blouse you’ve become fond of that is absolutely going with you. There’s a lot about 1941 that you’re going to miss, both people and things. It’s going to be harder than you originally expected to go back to your time but you take comfort in knowing it’s for the best.

You end up spending the weekend hanging out with Macie. Bucky and Steve are going to see Bucky’s family for a late Thanksgiving gathering on Saturday and plan to stay over, getting back at some point Sunday night. It’s your last weekend in 1941 and you’re a little disappointed but that’s a feeling you’re just going to have to become comfortable with. You have less than a week left and a little distance from the guys might be exactly what you need, despite it being the very opposite of what you want. Your phone rings a little after eight o’clock Sunday night and you almost jump out of your skin. No one calls that late in this era. 

“Hello?” you say into the mouthpiece. 

“Rose! We’re back.” Steve’s voice comes through the receiver, a slightly tinny quality to his usual baritone. 

“Great! How was your trip? Is everything alright?” 

“I told you it was too late to call!” you hear Bucky shout in the background, followed by a thump sound and a hiss of pain. “Sorry, Rose. Everything’s fine. We just missed you, is all.”

“I missed you guys too. How was it with Bucky’s family?”

Steve tells you about their trip and a few anecdotes about Bucky’s sisters and how they tormented him as usual. The conversation doesn’t run overly long but hearing his voice, and a few choice interjections from Bucky in the background, have the ache in your chest dissipating. You invite them over for dinner on Wednesday, wanting to see them just one last time before you leave. It’s stupid, you’re only making it harder for yourself but you need to see them. One more time can’t make that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things.

Dinner on Wednesday is a lavish affair, you’ve pulled out all the stops wanting to make sure the last meal you make them is one they’ll remember. They fawn over your cooking and insist you come over one night soon so Steve can cook for a change. In the end, it’s no different than every other night the guys have come over. You laugh and talk late into the night, happy to just sit around and enjoy each other’s company. 

“We still have to take you out dancing.” Bucky reminds you as you’re saying your goodbyes for the night.

You nod past the lump that’s formed in your throat. “We do.” you agree. 

“How about Saturday night? We can get all dressed up and go down to the Stork Club.” Steve suggests. 

You fight back the wave of emotion rising up. Steve will be saying something very similar to another woman in about four years if the transcripts from the Valkyrie crash are accurate. “Sounds great.” you manage to respond, burying your face in the crook of Steve’s neck while you hug him. It’s excruciating forcing yourself to let him go. 

Bucky pulls you in for his hug next, “Wear something pretty for us, okay doll?” 

You nod against his chest, “I’ll put on my best dress. You won’t know what to do with yourselves.” 

“I can’t wait.” Bucky lets you go and turns to Steve who’s waiting patiently next to him. Slinging an arm around Steve’s shoulders the pair head out into the cold December night. You stay on the stoop watching them go until they disappear around the corner. It’s only once you’re back inside your apartment that you let yourself fall apart. It’s wrong. It’s impossible. It’s completely ridiculous, but you know you’ll be leaving two pieces of your heart back in 1941 when you leave. You barely make it to your bed before the tears start up and once they do, they don’t stop until your eyes are burning and your throat is sandpaper raw. Forgetting about your lights and the dishes you let your anguish consume you until sleep comes to claim you at last. 

You take off work the day of your jump back to modern times. It’s not like you’ll be needing the paycheck and you want time to get your apartment in order. Someone will come find it the way you leave it in a few days and you at least want to make things easy on them. You also want time to write a letter to Steve and Bucky. You can’t just leave without a word at this point, who knows what they would do to find you and how that might upset the timeline of things. It pains you to write them your goodbye letter but the closure is good for everyone. You claim you’re moving across the country to help your ailing Aunt, which seems like a plausible enough story for the times. You tell them how much their friendship means to you and that you’ll miss them. You tell them to take care of each other, wishing them only the best in their future. 

You’re wandering around your apartment, trying to find ways to kill time until your jump when you decide to make a pan of brownies to drop off with your letter. It feels fitting to leave them with one last treat. You still have all the ingredients and just enough time to make them. You get to work, not a minute to spare. Afterwards, having to re-clean the kitchen gives you something to do and fills your time while you wait for them to bake. By the time the brownies are cool enough to transport you have half an hour to your jump time. It gives you plenty of breathing room to drop off the brownies and the letter before heading to SSR. 

Steve and Bucky should both be at work but they never bother to lock their front door. You plan to leave everything on the kitchen counter and be on your way within five minutes when you arrive. A creaking, thumping sound is your first indication that something is amiss as you open the front door. The door is in mid-swing, your arms full of your bag and the brownie pan, when you hear a throaty gasp that stops you in your tracks. You’re standing in the doorway when you see them and you drop everything you’re carrying. 

Bucky is seated on the sofa, his pants down around his ankles and his shirt tossed carelessly off to the side. His head is canted back against the top of the sofa, an expression of strained determination on his face as his hips snap up against Steve’s. And then there’s Steve. He’s so beautiful, his hair shining in the midday light that filters in through the curtains. A sheen of sweat covers his naked body as he rides Bucky, meeting him thrust for thrust. He’s breathless and panting, his blunt nails scrabbling mindlessly for purchase against Bucky’s chest. It’s raw, hedonistic, and you can’t help but stare even as you drop everything in shock. At the sound of the pan and your bag hitting the floor both men’s eyes snap open to see you standing in the doorway. Bucky shouts your name and Steve flies off of him with a yelp, both of them equally frantic to cover themselves and chase after you. You grab your bag, leaving the brownies, and run down the street to the sound of Bucky calling your name. 

You don’t stop running until you’re outside the SSR office. You check your watch as you lean against the brick wall to catch your breath. You have just under ten minutes to get in and in position. God, but the looks on their faces when they saw you. You know that being a known gay man in the 1940s is as good as a death sentence and they have to be terrified you’ll turn them in. Friend or not, the ‘40s were not a forgiving time for homosexuality. And you’re leaving, they’ll never see you again so of course they’ll assume the worst. You look down at your bag where your goodbye letter to them is still safely tucked. It all went to hell so fast. You wish you had time to go back and tell them it’s okay, you won’t turn them in. You still care about them and you’re happy they have each other. You don’t realize you’re crying until you notice the tears falling on the pocket watch you’re still holding. 

You have four minutes to get to your jump point. It’s just not enough time. This is why there were alternative jump points, in case something went wrong. Well, something had sure as hell gone wrong. You can’t leave them like this, you just can’t. They’re too sweet and kind and good to abandon like this. You rub the antique brooch on your collar, you’ll just have to make the next jump instead. It’s only five more minutes in your world, the team will just have to be patient and wait. Your mind made up, you toss the goodbye letter in the trash and head down the street back to the guys apartment. 

“It’ll be okay.” you hear Bucky saying as you climb the stairs to their door, “I promise, sweetheart. No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay.” 

The sound of Steve’s sobs tears your heart in two. You open their door unannounced yet again, letting the sound of it get their attention.

“So, are you two decent yet so I can come in or do you still need a minute?” you joke through your tears. 

Two sets of blue eyes stare at you in disbelief. 

“Oh come here you idiots.” you move towards them with outstretched arms, welcoming them to your embrace. Both men dive into your arms, clinging to you while muttering apologies and desperate thanks that you came back. You know that you did the right thing. Timelines and timing be damned. You needed more time with your guys and you’re gonna have it.

[sarahwroteathing]

Just One Kiss (12)

Word Count: 3930

Summary: It’s time to say goodbye

Warnings: I mean we’re obviously entering angst city here, folks. But there’s also a lot of fluff. Hold on tight. We’ll get through it together

A/N: YAY FOR FIXED LAPTOP AND FUNCTIONING WIFI LET’S DO THIS

Catch up here!

You were halfway to Bucky’s apartment when you spotted Steve coming towards you on the sidewalk at an anxiously quick pace.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you to wait at home for me. You shouldn’t be walking alone this late. It isn’t safe,” he said in a low voice, turning to fall in step with you.

You had changed before you left the apartment, opting to dress in the darkest colors you had, the collar of your jacket flipped up and the brim of Betty’s hat pulled low over your eyes. It was slightly disconcerting that Steve had identified you so quickly, but the feeling soon passed. He had been expecting you, after all.

“It isn’t safe for you either, you know,” you answered quietly, and Steve snorted.

“Is it ever? I’ll take my chances.”

You walked in tense silence until the familiar building came into view, and Steve quietly directed you into an adjacent alley. A nervous giggle came unbidden to your lips as you eyed the fire escape, and you pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle it.

“Sorry. Just imagining my mother’s face if she knew what I was doing right now.”

“Well then you definitely shouldn’t imagine Mrs. Tanner’s,” Steve whispered back, hushing you through a grin when you laughed into your hands again.

He helped you up the fire escape quickly and politely, coming to a stop outside a window that had been left cracked open.

“Let me just check…” Steve eased the window the rest of the way up, slipping inside and past the curtain for a few moments before reappearing to let you in.

You alighted in a cramped bedroom, dimly lit by a single lamp on the dresser tucked in the corner. Two small beds were also squeezed into the narrow space, one shoved up against the radiator and the other nearly overlapping the doorway to the living area. Both beds were covered by mismatching but well-loved quilts, and the walls above them were a decorative mess of newspaper and magazine clippings, handwritten notes, and drawings torn out of Steve’s sketchpad or scrawled on napkins or receipt backs.

One drawing in particular caught your eye as Steve squeezed past you and headed for the door. It was an image of you and Bucky, tucked close together in proper dancing form in the middle of an indistinct and smudged crowd. All detail and artistic care was saved for the two of you. For Bucky, flashing wide, innocent eyes at you, even as his stoic mouth began to curve into a grin. For you, bubbling with laughter, nose scrunched and eyes nearly closed.

“When did you…” your throat tightened around the rest of your words, smothering them before they could be voiced.

Steve followed your gaze and let out a self-conscious huff.

“Oh that… Betty brought some pencils and paper in her purse one night. So we could entertain ourselves since I don’t really dance. That one was her idea, but Buck must have taken it. Sorry, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can take it down.”

“No! No, it’s fine. It’s… It’s beautiful, Steve.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly with a soft smile that soon grew wider with amusement. “Although, if I drew you half as much as Bucky asked, we’d have you as wallpaper by now.”

Just as you opened your mouth to protest, a soft knock sounded from the door.

“Steve? Did ya need something?” Your stomach clenched nervously, and you shot Steve a questioning glance.

“Just checkin’ you were decent. We have a guest.”

“What do you mean we have a-”

Steve abruptly opened the door, putting you face to face with Bucky. You blinked owlishly at each other for a few moments before the shock wore off, and you tried not to smile as you took in his appearance. Bare toes curled nervously against the wood floor. Pajama pants cut too high on the ankle to have been bought in the last five years. His plain white undershirt was wrinkled but clean, with patches near the neckline turning translucent with water dripping from his still-damp hair.

What teased your smile into a full-blown grin was the rumpled wet disaster on top of his head. You’d always supposed you knew what Bucky’s messy hair looked like from his visits after work. Looking at it now, you understood that what you had previously been presented with was a mess Bucky had very carefully cultivated for just the right amount of boyish charm. This was something new.

He had clearly not been very gentle when washing the product out of his hair, resulting in sections of errant strands sticking up or out in any direction they pleased as well as curling damply against his forehead. You barely had time to appreciate it before Bucky’s hands shot frantically into the fray, doing his best to tug and flatten it into a more gentlemanly shape.

“H-hey, doll! What are you doing here?” The slightly panicked note in his voice made you giggle.

“Sorry to startle you, Bucky. I can leave if you-”

“No! No, you don’t have to leave. Just wasn’t expecting - Did you walk here alone this late?”

“It wasn’t so hard. Just one foot in front of the other. I’ve been doing it for a while now.”

Your teasing only made him more flustered, crossing his arms self-consciously when he looked down at what he was wearing.

“Um… I…”

“What’sa matter with you, Buck? Not even gonna ask her to sit down? Some host you are,” Steve chimed in, and you smiled at him gratefully.

“Not even wearing a tie. It’s like I wasn’t even invited.”

Bucky raised his head to narrow his eyes at Steve, who looked back with a calm but not at all innocent expression.

“There’s usually some warning before guests arrive.”

“Sorry, ma,” Steve replied with a deadpan expression that made you laugh even as Bucky rolled his eyes and walked away.

You and Steve exchanged a glance before following Bucky into the living room, where he was wrapping himself in a quilt with all the determined dignity of a rich woman donning her furs.

“I do believe we’ve been here before,” you said thoughtfully.

“And you somehow looked beautiful. This is doing nothing for my figure.”

“I think you look dashing.”

Bucky smiled and directed you to sit on the couch with a sweeping, dramatic gesture. When he was sure you were comfortable, he dropped down to sit on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your legs and pulling your hand on top of his head.

“In keeping with tradition.”

“I didn’t sit on the floor,” you protested, but he shrugged, reaching back to pat the space next to you.

“Well I’m not going to make Steve sit on the floor. Get over here, punk.”

“Oh, good. I get to listen to the sweet talking,” Steve grumbled, retreating to the bedroom to fetch his pencil and paper before depositing himself next to you with a sigh.

“I’ve never said a sweet thing in my life.”

You and Steve both snorted.

“Well I certainly won’t now,” Bucky grumbled with a sigh that turned from petulant to contented when your fingers moved through his hair.

The night progressed like this for several hours, conversation coming in waves with comfortable silences in the moments between. When you caught Steve’s eyes drooping you gently encouraged him to get some rest, rolling your eyes when Bucky’s heckling led to his pillow being thrown unceremoniously into the living room minutes later.

“If he’s mad he won’t miss me as much,” Bucky said, so softly that you weren’t sure whether he meant to say it at all.

You didn’t respond, moving your hands gently over his hair in silence until your conscience requested an audience.

“You should probably get some rest too, Bucky.”

“I don’t need it. I need to stay with you.”

You nudged him forward with your knees until you were free to rise from your seat, crossing to retrieve his pillow from the floor before reclaiming your spot. Bucky watched with curious eyes as you fluffed the pillow carefully before setting it on your lap.

“You can do both. Come here,” you said quietly.

Bucky blinked at you in surprise before tentatively moving up onto the couch.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I came to take care of you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

He let out a heavy sigh when his head settled on the pillow, eyelids fluttering closed as your fingers resumed their soothing work in his hair.

“Can we keep talking? I don’t want to sleep yet,” he whispered, eyes still closed and expression beautifully serene. “I want to stay with you.”

“I know you do. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You hummed absently for a moment before settling on a question that had been lingering in your mind all day.

“What you said earlier… Did you mean it?”

“If I said it to you, then yes.”

“Right, because you’ve never exaggerated anything you’ve ever said.”

“Not recently,” he laughed, opening his eyes to look up at you with a soft smile. “But what do you mean?”

“When you mentioned the letter you wrote at Christmas. And you said that we were… promised to each other…?”

Bucky tilted his head with a thoughtful look in his eyes, reaching to clasp your free hand where it rested gently on his chest.

“I meant it. Is that alright?”

The implication that it could inspire anything besides pure, giddy joy in you was too absurd to pass without acknowledgement.

“Oh, naturally I’m horrified that you’ve a heart for commitment. I keep hoping you’ll leave me for Betty,” you said mildly, giving his hair a playful tug.

“I’ve tried, but you just won’t leave me alone.”

Bucky laughed at your offended noise, catching both your hands before you could shove his head off your lap.

“You don’t want me to leave you alone, and you know it,” you said in the grumpiest tone you could manage with him grinning at you like that.

“No, I don’t. Truce?”

“Fine.”

Bucky released your hands, shifting his head slightly in a silent request that had you biting back a smile as you returned to gently stroking his hair.

“I was serious,” he said after a few moments of silence. “About feeling promised to you and about seeing if that was alright.”

“Of course it’s alright! It’s the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” you said honestly, tilting your head to better meet his eyes. “Why weren’t you sure?”

“Your old man probably makes more money than my whole family combined. It’s something to think about.”

“Well, that’s his business. Mine is waitressing. And all the money in the world couldn’t make me like those stuffed shirts he tried to steer me towards.”

“Not holding out for Howard Stark then?”

“And settle for less than I’ve got? Never.”

Though the light was dim, you’d swear you saw him blush through that satisfied smile.

“Can I ask you something?” You lightly traced over Bucky’s eyelashes, and he stayed perfectly still beneath your touch.

“Of course.” He waited until you had finished your initial sweep before blinking rapidly, tickling your fingertips before you could pull them away.

“Rude,” you mumbled, jerking your hand back.

“Ask your question, doll,” he said, voice colored by a poorly contained laugh.

“What do you think about curtains?”

“Curtains?”

You smiled, smoothing out the confusion creasing his forehead.

“Well, there’s not much I can afford to do about picking furniture, but I think I can manage curtains. Could even make them myself without too much trouble. So what kind do you like? There are those fancy lace ones, or the really thin ones that let in lots of sunshine. Or there are the thicker, heavier ones that can block out most light. Or something in between. There are patterns and solid colors… What kind do you like?”

Bucky stared at you, a smile beginning to grow on his face as your words sunk in. You weren’t asking about your and Betty’s apartment. There were curtains there already. And you weren’t asking about Bucky and Steve’s apartment either. This was something else, something future. Something shared. His heart beat a little faster.

“I like blue,” he ventured. “Would that be okay?”

“What shade of blue?” you asked, pleased that he was playing your game.

“I don’t know. You should get what you like.”

“But what if you don’t like them?”

“I dunno. Make them into a dress? I’m sure they’d look a lot nicer on you than on a boring old window anyway.”

“Oh, I see. It’s a Scarlett O’Hara you’ve been wanting all along.”

“Not at all,” he laughed.

“My mistake. Vivian Leigh then?”

Bucky scoffed. “And settle for less than I’ve got? Never. Why, would you rather have a Clark Gable? I can come back with a mustache if that would make you happy.”

“I don’t think I could kiss a mustache,” you said thoughtfully, wrinkling your nose.

“Ideally, you’d aim a little lower, sweetheart,” he said through a laugh.

“I think I’d still feel it. You’re not the only one who’s ticklish, you know.”

“Oh, really?”

“You keep your hands to yourself, mister,” you warned, poised to push him away from you.

“Can I keep your hands too?” he asked, catching hold of your wrists and bringing your palms to his cheeks.

You fought a grin but didn’t respond, sweeping your thumbs over his cheekbones instead. Bucky stared up at you with pride and affection for a few seconds before a crease started to appear between his brows again.

“What is it?”

“You coming over here this late and staying… That was a big decision you made. Are you gonna be in trouble?”

“We’re not doing anything wrong,” you said, your cheeks growing warm.

“I know, but that doesn’t always matter.”

“I’ll be alright. I changed clothes before I came, and I don’t think anyone saw me.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes now, and Bucky frowned at the realization that he had embarrassed you.

“Hey,” he said quietly, shifting slightly to brush his lips over your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… You took a risk for me. And I love that you did, but it would kill me if you were punished for it while I’m not here to help you.”

“I know…” you sighed. “But, if it comes to the worst, Betty’s a wonder with a baseball bat.”

Bucky laughed, and you soon joined in, a bit hysterical after the high emotion and tension of the day. When it faded, you were bowed forward over your lap, forehead resting briefly against Bucky’s before you straightened up again.

“You need to sleep, James Buchanan. Tomorrow will be a big day, and we’re going to see your family for breakfast before you leave. You need your rest.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Of course,” you said softly. “I’ll be right here watching over you. I promise.”

Bucky stared at you for a bit longer before surrendering with a sigh, letting his eyes close as you gave his cheek one more gentle stroke before returning your hands to his hair.

You couldn’t say how much time passed, but you’d counted about 2,873 of Bucky’s breaths when Steve reentered the room with a brittle smile. Taking a deep breath of your own to steady your nerves, you bent closer to Bucky’s sleeping form, drawing him from sleep with soft whispers until he was blinking up at you.

Betty arrived soon after with a new outfit for you tucked in her coat just in case, and after a quiet flurry of activity, the four of you stepped out into the pre-dawn street and turned your steps to the Barnes home.

The numbness of the previous night started to creep in again as you sat stiffly in a wooden dining chair. Voices buzzed around you, but you barely heard them. A plate of warm food sat in front of you, and though you wouldn’t dare waste a morsel or refuse Winifred Barnes’ hospitality, you didn’t taste a single bite of it. You felt Betty’s arm around your shoulders from time to time. You felt the uncomfortably tight grip of Bucky’s hand holding yours beneath the table. And when it came time to leave, you felt Rebecca’s tears dampen the collar of your blouse as she hugged you, begging you to come back when it was over.

Then the others melted away and it was just you and Bucky standing at the docks, the sun beginning to paint the sky a pale, dusty pink. The wind coming off the ocean teased strands of your hair across your face. The others had gone, but you still weren’t alone. There was a crowd gathered here, yet despite their numbers, the docks were eerily quiet, all conversations conducted in near whispers by some unspoken agreement.

All around you, people were engaging in that one practice you had forbidden yourself. Husbands kissed their wives, men their betrothed or hopeful futures, mothers their sons, fathers their children.

Desperate, frightened, wistful.

Grieving, hoping, dreaming.

Loving. Above all, loving.

Yet the two of you stood fixed in place, no more than a few inches apart, both hands firmly gripping the others’. You were frozen, for the moment unthinking, unfeeling, unbreathing. Unable and unwilling to do anything which would progress this moment towards the goodbye. His eyes haunted you, and there would be many times over the coming months that you would feel their piercing gaze even in his absence.

“What do we do now?” you asked faintly, squeezing Bucky’s hands as he let out the ghost of a laugh.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

You heaved a sigh, looking out at the other goodbyes taking place around you.

“And you don’t want a kiss?”

“...No.”

When you looked back at Bucky, his expression was so childish it brought a genuine grin to your face.

“Don’t you aim that pout at me. This is your decision, not mine,” you laughed.

“I know,” he grumbled.

“Do you want me to override your decision?”

“You better not.”

You took a step closer, smiling when he tilted his head in silent warning.

“I have a feeling you’d forgive me.”

“Never. Now cut it out, you siren. What would Mrs. Tanner think?”

“That when someone leaves, you ought to give them something to remember you by,” you said, smile fading.

“You don’t have to give me anything now because you’ll write to me every hour,” Bucky said, nudging your chin so you’d meet his eyes again.

“Maybe I’ll have better things to do than pine for you, James Buchanan.”

“Like what, your majesty?”

“Like pick out curtains,” you said primly, watching as Bucky’s teasing smile turned to something softer when he remembered your earlier conversation.

“Doll, can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can.” You rubbed your thumb over an imaginary smudge on his jaw.

“Would you be alright with me just… holding you for a little while?”

The urge to cry burned at the back of your throat.

“If you don’t, I may never forgive you.”

And it was like coming up for air after a long swim at Rockaway Beach. It was like coming home and putting your feet up after a long day of work. It was like… Well. Like being held by James Buchanan Barnes. It was perfect.

“Don’t let me go. Please,” you whispered into his shoulder, and though your ribs had some mild complaints when he squeezed you even tighter, you didn’t voice them. It still wasn’t tight enough.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered back, tucking his face against your neck. “Just this one last thing, and then it’s you and me forever.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise. I’m coming back for you. For our kiss and our curtains and our kids that you only talk about when you’re sick, exhausted, or both.”

“I had a fever,” you protest weakly.

“I know,” he said with a smile. “I know… Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything. You know that. Anything at all.”

“It’s not a good thing I’m going to ask you. You won’t like it.” But you were already shaking your head.

“Don’t say that. Just tell me, Bucky.”

“We can’t talk like this in our letters,” he blurted, and you leaned back a little to get a better look at his face.

“What do you mean?”

“Like the world is ending, and we’re running out of time.”

You pursed your lips against the thoughts that surfaced. That you could be running out of time. That if anything happened to him, the world would end. At least for you.

“How should I write, then?”

“Like you’re trapped inside by a stormy day, and you’re trying to pass the time,” Bucky said gently, stroking your cheek.

“You might come over on a stormy day,” you argued.

“Maybe I put a lot of work into my hair that day and don’t want to ruin it,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I spent hours in front of the mirror.”

“How very vain of you.”

“I have to make up for last night somehow.”

You laughed weakly, taking in the smooth, neat hair that contrasted so sharply with the damp and curly mess you’d been playing with hours earlier.

“Maybe I liked it better that way.”

“There’s just no pleasing you,” he said, shaking his head fondly as he pulled you back into his tight embrace.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to memorize this feeling, breathing him in.

“Write like I’ve fallen asleep on the couch again, and you’re too sweet to wake me.”

And while logically you knew your feelings for Bucky were just as strong as they always had been, his words triggered an overwhelming surge inside you that left you gasping.

“Please tell me you know... You know how I feel about you.”

“I do, I promise. I know.” It was a whisper spoken delicately against your temple, and it sent a shiver through you that had him holding you tighter.

“Can I say it anyway?”

“Save it for me, okay?” Bucky pulled back, and his hand was shaking when he reached up to gently tap your lips. “Keep the words right here, and I’ll be back for them.”

You nodded, blinking hard to keep your tears at bay.

“I’m not kissing you, doll,” he said, but his voice was shaking too, and you gave an unsteady laugh at his attempt. “No good?”

“The tone was all wrong.”

“Show me how it’s done, huh?”

You clenched your hands into tight fists, feeling your nails bite into your palms.

“I’m not kissing you, James Buchanan.”

“There it is,” he laughed, resting his forehead against yours. “That’s what I want.”

“You want me to be mean?”

“Maybe people will feel so bad for me they’ll slip me extra rations.”

“I’ll get Betty’s help then,” you sighed.

“Not that mean.”

“There’s just no pleasing you.”

Bucky smiled but said nothing.

You stayed locked together until the last possible moment. Bucky was the last to board, tearing himself away from you and breaking into a brisk jog as a superior shouted. A sharp pain lanced through your chest, and a sob finally broke loose. You stumbled back unsteadily until you felt two new arms lock around you.

Betty didn’t say a word, just stood strong behind you, supporting you until the ship faded into the horizon.

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

Chapter 13 

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

How are we feeling, everybody? We still alive? We forming a mutiny against me? Come scream at me! 

Asks, comments, and replies make the world go round! 

Tags: @aubzylynn @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd @kennadance14 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @wiintershero @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @jacks-on-krack @a-book-pressed-rose @fvckjamesbarnes @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @breezy1415  @notimetoblog @cherrynat  @multifandomgirl-us @teenybucks @angryteapot @nomadicpixel @raven-ur-mum @notimetoblog @vintagepigeon @withahintofpestoaioli @kindaace @sadanddeadsoul @thinkwritexpress-official @promarvelfangirl @orangespocks @multifandomgirl-us @majesticavenger @creideamhgradochas @buckybarneshairpullingkink

[thetravelerwrites]

Hearthway Hollow: Shahan

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human Reader/Male Werewolf Additional Tags: Exophilia, Hearthway Hollow, Werewolf Boyfriend, Interspecies Romance Content Warnings: Stalker, Stalking, Guns, Shooting Guns, Anxiety Words: 7007

This is a belated birthday gift for @momolady​! While fleeing a man who has made her life hell for years and looking for an out of the way place to hide, the reader stumbles upon a town that isn’t on any map: Hearthway Hollow. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Visit Hearthway Hollow!

Erring on the side of caution had never done much good for you. Erring on the side of paranoid worked much better.

You researched on your phone about out-of-the-way towns that would be good to settle in if you wanted peace and quiet, and cross referenced them with maps, and you found one town that didn’t appear on any map at all: Hearthway Hollow.

The town had a strange reputation, but you believed most of what you read online as much as you believed in Santa Claus. It was supposed to be a front for some kind of cult, though honestly, you’d sell your soul at this point if it meant safety and stability.

Driving through it, you had to admit the town was beautiful, like something on a postcard. The buildings were nice in an old fashioned, small-town kind of way, most of them red brick. The people you saw walking the sidewalks and in the shops looked weirdly happy and contented. All of them. It was… odd, like a Stepford Wives kind of thing. Maybe this was a cult town.

Eh, who were you to judge people’s lifestyle?

This was the third time you’d changed towns in the last six months, and you hoped you’d be in this town long enough to earn a savings that would cover your next terrified midnight flight. You’d been sleeping in your van to save funds for about a week, moving constantly, having only enough money in your pocket to pay for a few months rent, at most.

After driving for a while, you didn’t see any sort of town hall or city center, so you stopped at the hardware store, which to your eye appeared to be the heartbeat of the town, and went inside. There was a tiny young woman with dark hair and thick eyebrows sitting on a stool at the counter, flipping through a magazine.

“Hey there!” She said as you enter. “Haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah,” You said, your hoodie up and your hands in your pockets. “I’m looking to rent a place and I’m not sure who I should talk to about that. I didn’t see any kind of notice board or realtor signs, so…”

“Oh, well, you’ve come to the right place, then,” The woman said with a laugh. “You’ll be wanting to talk to my dad, Big Billy MacAllister. He owns more than half the town.”

You gave a small, tired shrug. “Okay, great, how do I get in touch with him?”

“Just a sec,” She said, jumping off her stool and going to a door behind the counter that said “Employees Only.”

“Hey, Dad! Someone here for you!”

“Coming!” You heard a gruff voice bark back.

“He’ll be right with you,” The young woman said brightly, getting back up on her perch.

The door opened, and a mountain of a man walked out, all muscles, beer gut, and body hair. You took a dubious step back as he circled the counter, wiping his hands.

“What can I do for you?” He grumbled.

“I’m told you’re the person to see to rent a place in town?” You said.

“Yep,” He replied. “What are you looking for?”

“Something small and cheap. Like, studio apartment,” I said. “In town, not in the woods. Somewhere where there’s a lot of light, surrounded on all sides by buildings, preferably buildings that have security cameras positioned toward the streets. And I need to move in quickly.”

His head rocked back at the laundry list of demands you’d just rattled off. “Uh… sure, the apartment above the hardware store is actually empty right now, so if you’d like that, you’re welcome to it.”

“What kind of locks does it have?” You asked.

“I’m sorry, what?” He responded, his thick brow furrowing.

“What kind of locks does it have?” You repeated with more emphasis. “And how long are the screws in the door hinges?”

“Uh… It has a standard doorknob lock and deadbolt,” He said, sounding a little confused. “And the hinge screws are… I dunno, four inch.”

“Not good enough,” You replied. “The screws need to be at least nine inches, and there needs to be a sliding lock in addition to the standard locks. I’ll buy them out of pocket and install them myself, if you don’t want to do it.”

The guy called Big Billy laughed a little, this sides of his mouth turning up under all that facial hair. “You expectin’ an attack or something?”

You didn’t laugh. Or smile. You just stared at him. “I also need to know who’s hiring in town, if you’d happen to know about that.”

“The grocery store is always hiring,” The young woman said, watching the interaction between you and her father with intense interest.

“Great, thanks,” You told her, then turned back to her dad. “When can I move in? Do you need me to give you a deposit or fill out an application?”

“Nah, I’m not worried about that,” He replied. “I just need your name and social for insurance purposes.”

You told him, and his daughter jotted it down.

“I’ve got some stuff stored up there, so give me a day to clean it out and it’ll be good to go,” He said. “Will that do?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” You replied. “Last question: does this town have a shooting range?”

The father and daughter shared a surprised look.

“Yeah, the police station has one that’s open to the public, but you have to make an appointment. You can’t just walk in and start shooting.”

“Cool,” You replied. “I’ll come back tomorrow for the keys, then.”

“Sure,” He said, still staring at you as if you were a puzzle to be solved. Before he could ask a question you didn’t want to answer, you turned and walked out of the shop, deciding to go and apply at the grocery store next.

You’d never seen a grocery store that didn’t sell meat, but they told you the butcher had the monopoly on that. You submitted your application and, when they asked your address and you told them it was the hardware store, they had a funny look on their face, but they accepted it without remark. They said they’d call you in a few days.

That night, you drove out of town and stopped at a rest area that was brightly lit and on a main highway. It had vending machines, water fountains, and showers. You refilled all of your empty water containers, had a quick wash in the showers, bought a dinner of coke and honey buns, then locked yourself into your van. Your futon mattress was laid out in the back, next to which was a locked travel trunk with all of your worldly possessions in it. Underneath your pillow was a loaded .22 and a twelve inch buck knife.

You removed your hoodie and took the can of mace, taser, and pocket knife out of your pants and lay them next to you on the mattress, so they were in easy reach. You lay down on your bed, fully clothed, and clicked a button on the key fob to set the car alarm. Sleep was slow in coming.

The next day, you went back to the hardware store and met up with Big Billy.

“Ah, I’m glad you came in early. I decided to upgrade you,” He told you.

“You made the changes to the door?” You asked.

“Nope,” He said. “There’s another property of mine I think you’ll like. It’s small and comfortable, and surrounded by a high fence. Here’s the keys.” He handed you a keyring with two keys on it.

You frowned a little. The store’s upstairs apartment was more defensible. “If I don’t like it, can I still have the apartment upstairs?”

“Sure,” Billy said, shrugging. “But I have a feeling you’ll love it.”

Your frown deepened with doubt, but you thanked him.

“It’s on Plymouth Road. Red house with a white door. Number 6557.”

“Got it,” You said. “And the doors?”

“I fixed ‘em up, like you asked,” He replied.

“Good. Thanks.”

You exited the store and headed over to Plymouth Road.

When you arrived at the house, you noticed immediately that there was a high privacy fence that went from the garage around the back of the house. Beyond that, there were trees. You grimaced. You’d specifically told him you didn’t want to be close to the woods.

But then, you realize who your neighbors were, and couldn’t help but smile. On the left was a normal house with a picket fence, and on the right, just next door, was the police station.

Maybe this would work out after all.

Moving your belongings into the house took all of fifteen minutes, and when you were finished, you walked next door to the station. At the desk was a young man in a uniform, perhaps in his mid-to-late twenties, tall, slender, and fit, with dark skin and black hair. He was writing something on a notepad but looked up when you walked in. He had the most peculiar but pretty gold-green eyes. His badge said “Madhwari.”

He paused for a moment when he saw you, his mouth open and the pupils of his eyes dilating slightly. You assumed you looked pretty shady with your hoodie up and your hunched posture, but he smiled after a few seconds, cleared his throat, and said, “Hello there. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Hi. I was told you guys have a shooting range, but that I’d need to make an appointment.”

“That’s right,” He replied. “I’ll need to see your gun license.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a form. “Fill this out, please.”

You took out your wallet and pulled your license from it and handed it to him. He handed you a pen in return. As much as you disliked leaving a paper trail, you filled out the form.

“Ah, you’re the new girl next door, eh?” The officer said. “Billy told us about you.”

You frowned in annoyance. That Big Billy had a big mouth.

“When can I use the shooting range?” You asked.

“Well,” the officer said, handing back your license. “We’re slow at the moment, so if you’d like, you can use it now. Do you have your gun with you?”

“No, it’s at home.”

“Well, go get it and I’ll let you in.”

“Thanks, Officer Madhwari,” You said as you headed for the door.

“Eh, we’re not a last name kind of town. Call me Shahan,” He said, a wide smile on his face. You gave him back a ghost of a smile and left to retrieve your firearm.

Upon returning, another officer was at the desk, a freckle-faced guy with a scar and eyepatch who otherwise looked like he was an over-tall twelve year old playing at being cop.

“You’re the girl Shahan’s waiting for?” He asked. You nodded. “I’m Saul. Welcome to town.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking his proffered hand and shaking it. Jeez, was everyone in town this friendly? It was unnerving.

“He’s already in the range,” Saul said, pointing at the door to the far right. “Go straight through.”

“Cool,” You replied, and made your way to the door.

Shahan already had the goggles on and earmuffs around his neck with a second pair on a table waiting for you.

“Are you practicing, too?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Sorry, it’s policy for an officer to supervise when a civilian is in the range. That’s one of the reasons you need to make an appointment.”

“Gotcha,” You said.

“What are you shooting?” He asked, looking at your gun. “That’s a cute .22.”

“What do you shoot?” You asked him.

He pulled his sidearm from its holster and showed it to you. “Standard issue,” He said. It was a 9mm Glock 19. Nice. If you could afford one, you’d definitely have bought it instead of your Ruger SR. As functional as it was, you’d definitely have liked something with more accuracy and a bigger punch.

“Can I shoot it?” You asked him.

He winced and shook his head. “Sorry. I’d lose my job.”

“I get it,” You said. “No harm in asking, though.”

“I’ve got you a target set up,” He said, pointing down the range at a paper figure. “What distance you want?”

“Gimme… twenty feet?” You said.

“Ooh, advanced, I like it,” He said, pressing a button that sent the target farther down the range. You didn’t have much ammunition, but it was important to keep your skills sharp. You could buy more when you started work.

“Protection on before you draw your weapon, please,” He said, and you donned the goggles and earmuffs. Once you were ready, he stepped back to your right, so that you could see him but so he wasn’t in the way, and gave you the signal to shoot when ready.

You shot ten rounds, a few seconds apart, at the target at the end of the range, and then three rapid-fire. You put your weapon down on the shelf and took off the earmuffs. Shahan pulled the target in so you could inspect it. All headshots.

“Damn!” He said with admiration. “You’re a better shot than me! You should join the police!”

You snorted. “Pass, but thanks for the offer.”

“Want to go again?” He asked.

“No,” You said. “That’s enough.”

“Really?” He said, sounding kind of disappointed. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure I’m still sharp,” You told him. “Thanks, Shahan.”

“My pleasure,” He replied, holding out a hand to shake it. “Let me know next time you’re wanting to shoot.”

“I will,” You said, then headed home, waving at Saul as you passed him.

That night, you were sitting on your futon, which you’d placed in the living room with the travel trunk, watching videos on your phone. You were having a hard time sleeping, when you heard a loud THUMP in your backyard. Immediately you reached for your pistol and flashlight, holding them like the self defense teacher had showed you.

Carefully, you opened the back door a crack and called out, “I’m armed! Show yourself!”

Nothing.

You reached back and flipped on the back porch light, and there, in your yard, was a dead, bloody deer.

“What the fuck?” You breathed, lowering your flashlight and turning it off, but keeping your gun up and staying alert. How the hell had this thing gotten over the fence? While dead? Either it got over and then immediately died or something threw it over, and you weren’t sure which was more unsettling.

Going inside and reaching into your travel trunk, you pulled out a tarp and went back outside, rolling the poor thing into it and dragging it to the garage, which had a door to the backyard. You put the deer in the back of your van and started it up, backing out and heading out of town.

About ten minutes out, when you were surrounded by trees, you took the deer out of the van and dragged it several hundred yards beyond the treeline. Unwrapping it and rolling the tarp up with the intention of rinsing it off with the hose tomorrow morning, you left the poor thing there for the forest creatures to eat.

The next morning, after a bad night’s sleep, you cleaned the tarp and laid it out in the sun to dry. You were just thinking about breakfast when you heard a knock on the door. Standing there was a man with olive skin and greyish salt and pepper hair. He was wearing an apron.

“Morning!” He said brightly. “I’m Harun, I work at the butcher’s shop. I heard something about a deer?”

You frowned. “From who? I didn’t call anyone.”

“Your neighbors mentioned it,” He said, still maintaining a friendly smile.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Well, then, they need to mind their own business. I figure it got hurt and confused and jumped my fence. I’ve already taken care of it. I put it back in the woods, where it belongs.”

“Oh,” He replied, his smile faltering a bit. “Well, good job. But, just so you know, this kind of thing happens pretty frequently in this town. Next time, call us, okay? We donate unwanted meat to soup kitchens and shelters. Lots of hungry mouths that would appreciate the meal, you know?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You said. “But I’m hoping it doesn’t happen again.”

“Right,” He replied, laughing a little nervously. “Well, have a good day, ma’am.”

“Yep,” You said, shutting the door with a snap.

As the day wore on, you got a call from the grocery store telling you you could start in a few days. You celebrated by sleeping. You always slept better during the day.

That evening, you stayed awake, camped out on your back porch. You were feeling on edge. You didn’t really think the deer had somehow vaulted over the ten foot fence. Someone put it there. You’d had… anonymous gifts before, and you could go the rest of your life without more.

Eventually your eyelids began to droop and you weren’t going to fall asleep outside and exposed, so you went in, made sure everything was locked up tight, and fell asleep.

That morning, you walked out of your house, and three deer lay on your front lawn, each larger than the first one you’d found. Your body went cold your heart dropped down to your toes. You felt an steel band squeezing your chest and were having trouble breathing. You fought hard to keep the tears in check, but they were falling despite your best efforts. You took out your phone and called Billy.

He answered after one ring. “Hello?”

“Billy?” You said, sniffling. “I’m sorry, but I won’t need to be renting your property anymore. I’ll pay for the full month if you want, but I need to leave.”

“Why? What’s going on?” He asked, his gruff voice instantly alert and intense.

“I have to leave,” You sobbed into the phone. “I”m not safe.”

“Stay there!” He ordered you, his voice like iron. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t go anywhere.”

The line went dead, and you fell to your knees in the grass.

“Hey, are you okay?” You heard a voice ask. Shahan had just pulled up in his police car, likely to start his shift, and saw you kneeling there. You were sobbing too hard to say anything. He jogged over and knelt with you, patting your back as you wept.

A few minutes passed, and Billy’s truck skidded to a stop in front of your house.

“What is it?” He asked, squatting down. “What happened? Is it the deer? That happens all the time here, it’s nothing.”

“No!” You moaned. “You don’t understand!”

Shahan sits you on the porch as the butcher’s truck pulls up. Great, more eyes to watch you have a meltdown. Wonderful. It’s the same butcher from yesterday, Harun, striding up quickly in concern.

“What’s happened, are you alright?”

“Would you guys just give me a second to catch my breath!” You blurt out. You’re tired of them asking you questions. You just want them to shut up for a minute.

Shahan went to his car and grabbed you a water while Billy and Harun waited for you to calm down. You drained the bottle in seconds and wiped your face on your hoodie sleeve.

“I have a stalker,” You admitted eventually.

“A stalker?” Shahan said.

“Why didn’t you mention this?” Billy asked gruffly.

“Because people have refused to rent to me before, that’s why,” You snapped.

“What makes you think it’s this stalker of yours?”

“He used to send me dead animals in the mail to scare me. That’s how I know this is him. Who else could it be? What kind of sick freak leaves dead animals on a person’s front lawn?”

The three men shared a grim, meaningful look between them.

“Look,” Billy said. “Don’t leave town yet, okay? There’s someone you need to talk to before you make that decision.”

“Who?”

Billy looked up at the butcher. “Harun, would you…?” Billy said, a question in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said, pulling out his cell phone.

Your hand was shaking as you pushed your hair out of your face and tried to stand. “I have to pack up.”

“Just wait,” Billy said. “Shahan and I will stay with you until they get here.”

“They who?” You asked.

“The town leaders,” He said. “They’ll have some things they want to discuss with you. For now, let’s get you inside.”

Shahan and Billy follow you into the house as Harun loaded the deer into his truck. Billy looked at the futon and trunk and frowned.

“Is this all you have?” Billy asked.

“This is all I need,” You replied flatly. “When you have to move quick, it helps not to have too much shit to haul around.”

After a few minutes of terse silence, there was a knock on the door. You tensed as Billy opened it.

Inside came a very old woman, a few men including another police officer, and the young woman from the hardware store. A youngish man with very curly blonde hair came in after everyone else. He looked at you and came forward, his hand extended, a kind smile on his attractive angel face. He seemed to have a weird glow about him that you couldn’t explain.

“I’m Adam,” He said, shaking your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He turned to introduce the people who had come with him. “This is Mrs. Locklear, Delaynie, Beau, Canvas, Angelo, and Kamilla, whom you’ve met.” He laid a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay,” You said suspiciously. “I know you told me your name, but that doesn’t actually tell me who you are.”

“For all intents and purposes, I guess you could say I’m… the mayor? Insomuch as this town needs a mayor,” Adam replied.

“Awful young to be a mayor,” You said, eyeing him up and down. “I’m guessing you didn’t win any sort of election.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Not as such. You’re pretty perceptive.”

“I’ve had to be.” You pulled your hoodie around you more tightly. “Being sharp has kept me alive.”

“Yes, about that,” The tall, dark man called Delaynie said. He looked an awful lot like Billy, but thinner and less tall. “We were given a very brief summary, but can you elaborate on this situation of yours?”

“Why does it matter?” You asked, feeling exhausted and exasperated.

“We may be able to protect you, but we need to know more about it,” Canvas said. “There’s a lot of families and kids in this town, and we need to make sure everyone is protected.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” You said, rubbing your eyes. “I’m sorry I brought this here.”

Adam stopped you by raising his hand. “That’s not what he meant,” He said. “He means we aren’t strangers to defending this town and its people against threats. We just need to know what we could be dealing with.”

After a moment’s hesitation, you went to your trunk and pulled out a file, handing it to Adam.

“His name is Richard Gish,” You said. “He’s in his late forties and has got a history of stalking, starting from early high school. I’m just his latest fixation.”

“Is this a police file?” The other officer, Angelo, asked, looking over Adam’s shoulder. “How did you get this?”

“Is that really a question you want answered?” You asked flatly. “You have it. It’s easier than making an inquiry, isn’t it?”

“When did this start?” Shahan asked.

“Three years ago. I started getting letters in the mail. They were creepy and odd, love letters from a guy I’d never met. When I didn’t respond, they became aggressive. I tried to ignore it, but I started getting pictures with the letters. Pictures of me taken from a long way off. Pictures of me coming out of my job, going into my gym, outside my house. He was following me.”

“Did you report it to the police?” Angelo asked, still reading the file.

“Of course I did, but they said they couldn’t do anything unless he actually tried to hurt me. So I moved. And he followed.” You sniffled and rubbed your face with both hands. “He finally came up to me on a crowded street and introduced himself, and I slapped him and told him to leave me alone. After that, he went from professing his love for me to threatening to kill me and my family. I went into hiding about two years ago.”

“How serious has it gotten? Has he done more than letters and threats?” Shahan asked.

“Half a year ago, he broke into my apartment and attacked me with a knife. I shot him, but he disappeared. I’ve been on the move ever since, sleeping in my van in between towns. But he’s always managed to track me down. I’ve only been here three days and he’s found me again.”

“You’re talking about the deer, right?” The rather tall old woman named Mrs. Locklear asked. She had a presence about her as well, but it was different from Adam’s.

“Yeah,” You said.

“There’s another explanation for that,” Adam replied.

“Which would be?”

He smiled almost apologetically. “This isn’t a normal town.”

“I gathered that,” You said sardonically.

“I’m sure you have,” He said. “The deer are gifts from someone in town who admires you.”

You squinted in confusion. “What kind of people leave dead animals as gifts?”

“Werewolves.”

He said this without a trace of mirth or mockery. You blinked slowly. “Look, I don’t have time for whatever bullshit cult nonsense this town is into--”

“Beau,” Adam said, turning to a large man with an incredible amount of scars on his face and arms.

Beau stepped forward and said, “Don’t be scared, okay?” And suddenly he began to grow and change, fur sprouting from his skin and his bones rearranging themselves into a new shape. His sudden growth stretched his already tight t-shirt. He didn’t shift completely; he was still standing on his back two paws and his front paws were still functional as hands, but they had paw pads and claws.

They were all looking at you like they expected you to scream or freak out, but you had no reaction, you simply stared at Beau in his new form. You came closer and inspected him, even circling him once, appraising his strength in this body, satisfied with what you could see.

“It ain’t you, is it?” You asked him suspiciously. “The deer?”

“Oh, god, no,” He said, his voice more rough in this form. “No offense, but I’m married.”

“Fair enough,” You replied, and he shifted back into his human form.

“You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Adam said.

“I’ve seen scarier things,” You said blackly. “So, this isn’t Gish, but some rando werewolf in your town who saw me and thought I was cute or something?”

“There’s a bit more to it than that,” Adam said. Behind him, his people were passing the file around and studying the picture of Gish in it. “Werewolves know their mates upon seeing them, and once they recognize them, they begin a ritual. It starts with the animals. Hunting is our way of showing a potential mate that we can provide for them. After the gifts, they introduce themselves in their wolf forms, allowing you to gauge their worthiness. Once you accept them, they scent you, so that other weres know your off the market, so to speak. Then the final part of the mating ritual is… well… mating. You usually don’t know who it is until after the ritual is over, unless you’ve managed to guess beforehand.”

You had your arms folded during this explanation and took a moment to absorb it all. “No offense to your whole town dynamic or anything,” you began slowly. “But that’s the creepiest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“I can see how it might look to an outsider, certainly--” Adam said, but you stopped him this time.

“No, you really don’t,” You replied, going back to the trunk and pulling out a piece of paper. “Read the first paragraph of that.”

“What is it?” Adam asked, frowning.

“It’s the first letter he sent me.”

Adam, brow furrowed, began to read aloud. “’You don’t know me, but I have seen you many times. I don’t have the words to describe how beautiful you are. The moment I saw you, I’…” Adam paused, a grimace on his face. “’I knew you were my soulmate. We were meant for each other. And I won’t stop until I prove it to you.’”

There was a discontented murmur through his group. You were sure it was strange to them to see their own ritual turn on its head into something sinister and threatening.

“Do you get it now?” You asked Adam.

“I believe I do, yes,” He said, handing the paper back.

“So, you’re offering protection,” You said, folding the paper up and putting it in your pocket. “I’m guessing you’re all--”

“Ah, let me stop you there,” Adam said. “I am the Alpha werewolf in town. That much you’re allowed to know. But we have rules. Rule number one, you can’t ask who is a werewolf and who isn’t. Two, you can’t guess out loud or gossip about it with other people. Three, if you know someone who is a werewolf, you can’t tell anyone.”

“That seems highly impractical.”

“Perhaps so,” Adam admitted with a smile. “But it’s kept this town and its residents safe and free from scrutiny from the outside, and that’s very important to us. I’m sure that’s a sentiment you can understand.”

You nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I get it. So I can’t ask if you know who’s been leaving me these… offerings, then.”

He shook his head, his blonde curls bouncing around his face. “I’m afraid not.”

“Fine,” You assented. “But could you pass along the message that I’m not interested?”

“I can,” He said. “Now, if you want to leave, we won’t stop you. But you’re tired; I can see it in your face. We can offer you protection, if you’re willing to stay. Living here makes you one of us, and we look after our own. You have my promise on that.”

You sighed. “I’ll give it a shot,” You said, shrugging noncommittally. “But one more dead thing, and I’m out of here.”

He held up his hands in placation. “I completely understand. I hope we can make you feel safe.”

“Me, too,” You said.

“We’ll leave you, then,” Adam said, nodding at his generals, and they began to file out of the house. “Please let us know if you have any trouble. We’ll do what what can to help.” He held out his hand again.

You took it. “I appreciate that.”

He nodded in farewell and followed the others out. Billy was the only one left. He folded his arms across his chest and regarded you with a fierce expression.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble, kid?” He grumbled, sounding angry.

“I told you why,” You said. “Like I said, people have refused to rent to me before. I’ve been fired from jobs. One town sheriff literally told me to leave and that he’d arrest me if I ever came back.”

“Well, we ain’t like that,” Billy said. “I hope we’ve managed to drill that into your thick skull.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” You said, swatting at him. “Now get out of my house, old man.”

He snorted, the corner of his lip turning up. “No wonder you’ve outrun this asshole so long. Made of stone, you are.”

You nodded in acknowledgement, shrugging one shoulder.

“Take care, kid,” He said, and let himself out.

That night, you went to take the trash to the bin and stopped in your tracks. There, at the end of the walkway that led from the front door to the sidewalk, sat a wolf. It had a golden coat with black fur running from between his ears, down his back, to the tip of his tail. It was large and tall, but unlike Beau, who was solid and broad, this one was slim, with skinny legs and a short coat, almost like a coyote. From the way it was sitting, you could tell it was male. His ears were flat against his head, and he whimpered slightly.

“Am I assuming you’ve come here to apologize?”

He gave a weak bark, trying not to make too much noise, laying down on the pathway and not attempting to come closer. You threw the trash bag into the bin that was next to the house, and sat down on the porch, resting your elbows on your knees.

“You know, you remind me of a mutt I had when I was a kid. You’re lucky I loved that dog.” You waved him up. “Come on.”

He immediately got up and joined you on the porch.

“Stay a wolf,” You said warningly. “I’m tired of dealing with people, even wolf people.”

He bobbed his head once, which you took as agreement.

You looked out, able to see the main street of the town from where you sat. It was late, so the town was quiet.

“It’s pretty here,” You mused, talking to yourself, really, but out loud so that he could hear, too. “I wouldn’t mind staying. Though… I really wish I could go home.”

He lay down next to you with his front paws dangling from the step, looking up at you as you spoke, quiet and attentive.

“I haven’t seen my mother in two years,” You said, still looking at the town but no longer seeing it. “I have two brothers, one older and one younger. My older one was having a baby with his wife. My younger brother was in highschool. They don’t even know what’s happened to me, you know. I told them about the stalker, but when it got serious, I just… left. I didn’t call them or leave a note.”

You sighed. “Maybe they think he kidnapped me and I’m dead. Maybe they’ve mourned me and moved on. Maybe, if I ever go back, they won’t want to see me.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until the wolf licked your cheeks. You let yourself break down. He put his head on your shoulder and licked your ears, and you put your arm around him and stroked his fur. God, you missed that dog.

You sat there for hours, talking to yourself and the wolf sitting next to you. You’d spent the last two years keeping everything about yourself quiet, so actually letting it out was extremely cathartic. You talked until your throat was dry, cried until you had no tears left, and pet the wolf the entire time. He never spoke, just let you get everything out and listened.

“God, I’m tired,” You said eventually, rubbing your eyelids. You looked at the wolf sitting next to you, narrowing your eyes a little. “If you stay a wolf, you can come in. Unless you’ve got wolf stuff to do.”

He jumped up and smiled that cute doggy smile, tongue sticking out and everything. You rolled your eyes and got up, opening the door and going inside with him on your heels. While standing, he came up above your hip.

You sat on your futon, taking off your hoodie to get ready for bed. You took your self defense items out and laid them in their usual place on the bed. He sat on the outside of the futon, bowing his head and whimpering.

You sighed. “Don’t shed on my futon.”

He barked and bound onto the mattress, laying down next to you. The warmth of his large body was welcome, and you fell asleep much more quickly than normal.

When you woke, he was gone. There was a note on the pillow next to you. Pushing down your natural paranoia, you opened it.

         I had to go to work, but I’ll come back tonight, if that’s okay. And I promise, no more dead animals. How about some take out instead? Do you like Chinese?

                 --S

You smirked. Damn it, he was smooth. It was hard to push him away, especially as a wolf. The silent presence and warmth of him close by last night was… comforting. Comfort was something that had been in short supply over the last couple of years. You were suddenly thinking that maybe you should get a dog.

Now that you realized he wasn’t like Gish, you were starting to wonder who he really was. You still weren’t interested in a romance, not yet, but the mystery was intriguing, only made more so by the fact that you couldn’t ask anyone about it.

After breakfast, you walked up to the grocery store to finish up the new hire paperwork, and saw Shahan as you came out.

“Oh, hey!” He said. “I wanted to check on you after yesterday. I was going to make a house call, but you weren’t home. How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” You said, surprising yourself by finding you actually did feel okay. “Honestly, the… special qualities of this town have me feeling a little safer. And the fact that you guys didn’t throw me out when you learned about my problem is nice. Having it out in the open is nice. Keeping it a secret is… really tiring.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” He said with a chuckle.

“I can’t ask you…” You started, and he shook his head.

“Sorry,” He replied regretfully.

You shrugged. “It’s okay. I always liked a good mystery.”

He smiled warmly. “Well, I’m glad you’re in better spirits. You had us worried yesterday.”

“Sorry about that,” You said, wincing. “It was just scared and overwhelmed.”

He held his hands up. “No, I totally understand. If I were in your shoes, I’d have freaked out, too. We’re stepping up security around the town, just in case. Adam has also ordered his most trusted to do rounds in the woods around the town. If he comes anywhere near here, we’ll catch him.”

You took a big breath and released it. “That’s a huge relief. This is the first time in a long time I’ve felt… hope.”

“Good,” He said, his smile very warm, his golden-green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “I’m very glad.”

You felt warm under his gaze, and thought you might be blushing. “I… uh… I’m kinda tired. I think I’m going to go home and rest.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” He said, briefly touching your arm. You had to suppress a shiver. “Take care of yourself, okay? And remember, we’re right next door if you need us, so don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You said, a real smile on your face for the first time in months.

That night, you waited on your front porch for the wolf. He showed up at half-past eight with a bag in his mouth.

“Stay a wolf,” You told him, and again he bobbed his head in understanding. “Come on up.”

He headed up the walkway and passed the bag to you. As promised, there was honey chicken, fried rice, and some eggrolls. You were so happy. You hadn’t had a meal that wasn’t a quick burger or a peanut butter sandwich in ages. You opened his take out box for him, and he wolfed his food down happily. You wondered if he found eating like this demeaning, but he didn’t seem to mind.

After you finished eating, you sat with him on the porch, watching the fireflies in the trees and listening to the sounds of the evening. His head lay in your lap and you stroked his ears absentmindedly. It was the most comfortable you’d been in a while.

“Listen,” You said quietly. He didn’t get up, but his ears quirked to listen to you better. “I know you think you’re in love with me, and maybe you are, but… I’m scared. I’m scared of being in another situation I can’t control. You understand that, don’t you?”

He gave a grumbling sort of whine, which you took to mean yes.

“I can’t get into a relationship. Not just with you, with anyone. Not until Gish is out of my life for good. So, for now… I can’t know who you are. It would make this whole thing weird for me. I’d feel like you were only interacting with me because of some biological imperative that really doesn’t have anything to do with me. I didn’t choose this, you know?”

Another grumble.

“But… I do like your company. It’s nice to have someone I can talk to. Maybe it’s because as a full wolf, you can’t talk back, but it feels like I can tell you anything and you won’t pass judgment on me.”

You sighed, and paused in your petting. He lifted his head from your lap and sat up, looking at you with earnest eyes.

“If you want to keep seeing me as a wolf, that’d be okay with me. But only if it’s okay with you. And don’t base the decision on this magical connection we’re supposed to have. Really think about it seriously. If it would be difficult or painful or offensive to you to keep coming here as a wolf and not a man, I get that. It’s up to you. We should both have a choice.”

He took a moment to consider, then he lay back down, putting his head in your lap again, sighing contentedly.

You smiled down at him and resumed the pets. “I guess I have my answer.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[leuiesroom]

Darry didn’t make it out of Tulsa the way he always anticipated he would. It was no shining pulling himself up by his bootstraps moment he could be proud of. He left because he couldn’t stay any longer.

He sold that house as quick as he could, and donated all the stuff in it that he couldn’t pack into his truck, to neighbors, to thrift stores, and he sold a lot too. Anything that reminded him of the people he used to love. That house with the cracks in the walls and ghosts in the rooms. That house which once held three boys and all their friends, and then...two, and then one, and finally none. Darry hopes they tore the fool place down the second he left town for good.

Tim and Curly came to see him off, no grand farewell but he was touched. He took a picture of the two brothers and almost shed a tear. He really would miss them, even if he never saw them again. He stopped by Bucks on his way out too, to drop off something he’d wanted. Some old knife of Dally’s. Darry almost didn’t want to part with it, but he did.

And he stopped by the graveyard, he had a little bouquet of flowers, but standing at that wrought iron gate he couldn’t imagine how to split one bouquet between six boys. FUCK. Mamma always said life’d be hard but she never told him what it would be like to lose all his friends before 30...

He used to be so cool, even with the soc’s. But highschool came and went and he had to work where they went to college and partied, and that was almost expected. (It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch but he prepared himself.) Then he remembered that year, he was, what 20 then? 21? Young. Young enough to go to a bar and cry like a kid and deal with his loss in that immature way. (Hell he still thinks losing Johnny tugged at his heartstrings the most. Maybe cause he was the youngest. Or because he never really lived. 16...god he was the youngest, and even those 16 years he had were riddled with poverty and hate and abuse. Sometimes he still thought about Johnny...last and least, always last and least.) After Johnny there was Dallas, and god that almost broke him. Where Johnny made Darry cry a bit, the way Dally went almost made him want to throw up. Right in front of them, he doesn’t remember much of it, he went to therapy for a while and his therapist said the memories were depressed or repressed or summat. He remembers puking though, he made the gang go home and he dealt with the cops, with everything that night, alone. And when he got to the front steps of the building they interviewed him in for what happened he slid down to his knees and vommitted bile right on his shoes. It was so violent, and unnecessary, he always wished he could have saved Dally, but no more than he wished he could have killed him himself for all the pain he put the gang through. Two boys in one night, it hurts to lose like that.

It brought the gang together for a while though, bonding, trying to fix that aching hole, but there were no reparations to be and eventually the emptiness was unignorable. They fought, Two-bit drank to much, and Darry didn’t want that influence around Pony. Tensions rose between Steve and Darry too. It seemed like he couldn’t enter a room without a fight.

But life went on. Soda bought a ‘49 Indian and he Steve began to fix it up in the garage at the DX, “boys, we’re gonna ride the wind. Up around the moon and back again” they’d always say, dreaming up all these adventures. Taking the bike out to Cali-fucking-fornia to see the coast, to New York for the city. They became motorcycle boys, obsessed with making it somewhere.

They never made it further than Vietnam. Ponyboy was standing there with him, when the telegram come.

They were somewhere a million miles away from Tulsa, and Darry didn’t even have a FUCKING body to bury this time. Just two stone placards up in the graveyard.

It almost seemed like Darry was trying to collect dead friends at this point.

(Cherry and Randy came to the funeral which he thought was sweet, but he couldn’t talk to them. All that history with nowhere to go...)

The house was almost empty at that point. He even let Two-Bit move back in.

Darry teared up, picking petals off the flowers and rolling them between his fingers until they were wet and dirty. He wished he hasn’t yelled so much that year, he could have handled Two-Bits drinking problem better, he lost his friends too. But Darry just yelled, and by that December he had lost two more people. Twobit shot him self, or maybe he got shot, it didn’t matter really- dead is dead, and there were so many deaths he almost couldn’t keep things straight anymore. After his funeral he and Pony fought. Again.

It was Darrys fault for not trying to help Twobit (Just call him Keith now he’s fucking dead.) and yelling at him instead. But he was trying to help and maybe pony was just to young to understand.

That was it, he was out. He did what no one else in the gang ever managed to do. He sold Soda’s cycle and bought a bus ticket to California. Darry didn’t much hear from him then. They were distant, that 7 summat years they were separated by land. From the few letters he received all he got was short paragraphs about Pony doing well, he dropped out of college (which broke Darrys heart...what he wouldn’t have given to gone and Pony dropping like it was nothing...) and some pictures of Pony and some friends wearing leather jackets and chains and handkerchiefs and boots and makeup and unbuttoned shirts, all these California fashions Darry never understood. Until it hit him.

May 15th, 1983. Ponyboy had GRID. he flew back to Oklahoma but there wasn’t anything Darry could do except watch another little brother waste away....

Something he realized, after going to that fucking graveyard again (he swore he’d never go again, no sir, Darrel Shane Patrick Curtis was done burying friends.) was that thing they don’t tell you about the blues when you got them is you just keep on falling cause there ain’t no bottom. There ain’t no end.

It only until took until his birthday for him to leave after that. To pack up and sell out and here was. Crying outside his truck.

Dear Reader- we never did learn what happened to Darry after he started his skid. As far as we know he drove down highway one as far as he could before he settled down in some hick city, he went to California too, or that was the plan, as far as the paper trail goes we think he stopped somewhere in New Mexico, car accident maybe. Or just plain suicide. But there wasn’t a mention in the news of the world of the life and death of a sad old man named Darry.

[vodkabite]

Our Little Secret - Act 1, Preview

To liven the mood inside the dimly lit basement, while cursing at the horribly cheap lightbulbs she bought from the Circle K off Elmwood, Nicole shares a random fact she knows: Superman didn’t always fly; in the beginning he could only leap over buildings, but the animators for the animated series they were doing in the 40s thought it would be too difficult to constantly draw his knees bending, it was easier to draw him in one pose and have him fly.

And how Major League Baseball once had female players; the first was Lizzy Arlington, who pitched during the ninth inning for the Reading Coal Heavers in 1898 and won her team the game, and a little over 30 years later, an African-American woman, Jackie Mitchell, pitched against the Yankees during an exhibition game, striking out both Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig.

Nicole’s always been one for sharing random facts about things, especially to the break an awkward silence or change someone’s mood. And while Waverly is probably sure that the alpha spends her downtime at the station searching the internet for new things to talk about, she finds it cute. Adorable even, the way it eases the tediousness of doing laundry.

And as she crosses her legs, letting her feet dangle freely in the air against the side of the filing cabinet she sits upon, Waverly stares at Nicole from the corner of her eyes. Through the loose strands of hair that have fallen to form a curtain against the side of her face.

A thought crosses Waverly’s mind: I want to know you, see you, feel you.

Nicole grabs a heap of clothes from the dryer, mostly blacks and grays, and puts them on the folding table for separation. Her hands and fingers glide over the different fabrics, gripping the end of a sleeve or hooking under a collar and swiftly folding them to make a pile. The veins swimming through her wrists and up her arms quietly peeking out from beneath her skin—Waverly licks her lips. It feels nice, getting to be alone with Nicole without constant distractions and interruptions.

She has a great smile, a disarmingly perfect smile, and Waverly wants to see more of it.

The past few years had chipped away the once frequent sight of it, leaving a tightly lipped, exhausted, and irritable grin in its wake. Nicole grits her teeth more often now, due to frustration and impatience. The tension in her muscles defining the sharp curve of her jawline; a feature that hadn’t gotten lost with the weight gain.

Waverly folds another shirt, one of Nicole’s many black undershirts, and leaves it closer to her side than the others.

It’s comforting.

Though, the omega notices the pinched nerve expression on the alpha’s face. Frustration rippling through the air as she organizes the clothes into neat piles, sometimes refolding the same pile several times until all the shirts are in uniform.

Being a police officer, even in a dull town like Purgatory, must be hard; clocking in early and signing stacks of paperwork every day, patrolling the monotonously boring streets just hoping for some excitement. Waverly can’t imagine that coming home is any easier: having to make sure Wynonna and Willa don’t kill each other, driving Waverly to school in the morning and from cheerleading practice in the afternoons.

With Mama being gone so often, Nicole is the only adult who can keep the house in order. Doesn’t help that the washing machine turns off again. The on button keeps coming unstuck during the middle of cycles, needing to be pressed to resume working.

And each time, Nicole presses it with more and more force.

The tension is palpable and she wonders if the alpha had ever… done anything to ease her frustrations.

Waverly is reminded of the times she laid at night with her bedroom door closed after a long and stressful day, searching the internet for a video to masturbate to. The front pages of the sites she usually visits are oversaturated with amateur videos that are less than five minutes long with abysmal film and sound quality, or the more professionally done videos that are always filled with cheesy, half-baked storylines barely stitched together by basic comprehension of plot structure and graphic closeups. Not to mention the overly exaggerated moans by the actors and the director’s near obsessive need to always include at least one POV shot.

But what interests her, is that they all shared the same kind of theme: relieving tension. Whether it’d be an injured frustrated patient getting a blowjob from their extremely busty nurse, or the pool boy being seduced by a woman twice his age who’s frustrated by the lack of attention from her husband, as though sex and all aspects of it is simply a means to an end.

Waverly looks to Nicole again, shoving another batch of clothes into the dryer.

“Nicole?” The alpha turns to her, giving a final dirty look at the washing machine before settling down, more to hide what she feels so the omega wouldn’t see; pretending that nothing is wrong.

But Waverly knows better.

Dropping down from the filing cabinet, Waverly pulls Nicole by her wrists, bringing the alpha to stand in front of her.

“Nicole, I… you…” The words die on her tongue.

Instead, her hands speak for her. Running up Nicole’s forearms, pressing lightly against the veins to feel the alpha’s pulse thrum vibrantly beneath the pad of her thumb. Nicole is frozen still, confused. But her skin responds brilliantly. A shiver runs through, goosebumps rising in its wake as Waverly’s hands find their way over her biceps.

Waverly’s hands continue their exploration: the hardness of her shoulders, the softness of her sides, the muscles of her back, fingertips lightly drifting down the curve of her spine; committing each and every detail to memory. Finally, she reaches the hem of Nicole’s old basketball shorts. Her excitement grows, much like a fever as she slips a finger past the waistband. Breath hitching at the thin hairs that bristle against her index finger. Immediately, the omega’s hands are pulled away. The alpha’s grip is strong, her honey-golden eyes searching Waverly’s own.

For a moment, no one moves.

Part of Waverly fears that she has crossed a line she won’t be able to take back, but the other part, the eager and hungry side of her, takes hold and she takes the deadly plunge. Pulling Nicole forward and kissing her.

Nicole is tense at first, though, she soon quickly melts against Waverly. The acceptance brings forth another surge of confidence; the omega presses their bodies together, adamant in keeping less than a sliver of space between them. Backing into the washing machine that had now sputtered and died, for the third time that afternoon, Nicole is the one who breaks the kiss first. Taking the lead and picking Waverly up and placing the omega on top of the washer.

Even though the red blush that colors her face burns like hell itself, Waverly pulls the basketball shorts low enough to reach through the alpha’s boxers for her cock.

She thumbs at the top of her cock gently, rubbing the sticky drop of precome around with the pad of her thumb, making a mess of the wet spot that grows against the fabric, but the way Nicole inhales deeply above her shakes Waverly to her core. Dear God, fuck, is it everything she’s ever imagined. Waverly presses the flat of her palm along the thick shaft, firmly squeezing and effectively choking off another moan before it can even form. Sliding her other hand down to pull her boxers off, Nicole takes the initiative to help, springing herself free. Uncharacteristically, Waverly stares at the hardened member resting against the cold metal edge of the washing machine between her legs. Awkwardness quickly gives way to awe and hungry praise when she wraps her hand around the shaft and feels a pulse.

Waverly finally begins to stroke Nicole, she does it slowly, still mesmerized by the sounds the alpha makes because of her. It’s a bit too dry without some sort of slick to ease the fiction, so, much like what she’s seen countless of times online, she licks her palm. The wetness makes it slippery, easier, gaining Waverly a high-pitched groan that makes her toes curl; warmth spreading through her chest.

Nicole starts to buck into Waverly’s hand and the omega can only watch, spellbound by her rutting hips desperately trying to reach climax. Letting go, she pulls the Nicole into another kiss, roping her arms around the alpha’s shoulders to keep her in place.

Yet, they break away for a quick second. Waverly wants to whine for the momentary lack of contact, but is shocked still as Nicole mounts the otherwise small surface of the washing machine. It creaks and groans helplessly under their combined weight, and while she wonders if the poor thing can actually support them both, she gasps at how roughly Nicole moves into her, hand accidentally slamming onto the on button.

The omega doesn’t know what hits her first: the vibrations shaking her entire body to the core, or Nicole’s cock slipping beneath the leg of her shorts and rubbing against the front of her sex.

Her cheeks burn hot with another wave of heat flooding between her thighs. Nicole never looks at her, just keeps her eyes screwed shut as though she knows that as much as eye contact turns Waverly on, the omega won’t be able to last with it. Nicole moves faster, rolling into the feeling like her life depended on it; the friction of the alpha’s solid weight moving against her clit is enough to drive Waverly wild. And as such, a sharp cant of Nicole hips leaves her shattered.

Nicole isn’t far behind, her thrusts start to falter; her speed and intensity wane considerably under the consistent vibrations bringing her towards that inevitable—

“Waves?” She blinks and Nicole stands before her, concerned. “Are you alright? I asked if you wanted to order pizza and you just spaced out on me.”

A hand is placed to Waverly’s forehead. “Hm, you don’t have a fever.”

“No, no, I-I was just… daydreaming,” She says saving face, sounding breathier than she wants to. Nicole shrugs her shoulders and finishes up the rest of the laundry, kicking at the washing machine, cursing it and murmuring that she’ll need to buy another one.

All Waverly can do is breath a sigh of relief when no one is looking.

[royalnoir]

Real Estate Problem Solver

Advantages There are many areas one can invest in. Since I was 15 yr old I have looked for the fastest, most effective way to accumulate a lot of huge selection, with the least amount of risk. I am now 58. Even while looking for this road to truth, I spent time and effort in the school of hard knocks. The school of very hard knocks is a very interesting but painful school to attend. It is also the most expensive way to learn something, but if you graduate you have a PHD in what to do and not do together with time and money. The schools I attended happen to be: Investing in businesses as a silent partner, owning my own enterprises, working for another family member-in my case my father, selecting publicly traded stocks and securities, penny mining stock option, commodity trading, investing in gold and silver, real estate private lending, housing development, real estate remodeling, buying foreclosure properties. I equally worked as a real estate problem solver/matchmaker, bringing business owners as well as business buyers, and matching up real estate owners utilizing real estate buyers. Writing about all of these activities would take the encyclopedia, so we will limit this essay towards the kinds of situations you can run across in the real estate school for hard knocks. I will present my solution with the assigned situation. There are more than one possible solution and I receive you to come up with other possible solutions as you read. Any time you get some value from my experiences that will hopefully decrease tuition to the real estate school of hard knocks. Experience free to e-mail me your comments, alternate solution or perhaps stories. Do, please, let me know that it is all right in my circumstances to publish them. My Real Estate Philosophy As a way of presenting myself, I thought you might find what lessons I have discovered, after all these years of real estate, interesting. Buy real estate property instead of stocks, bonds, mutual funds, or commodities. If you pick a winner in one of these non-real estate areas you can take 5-10 times your money. When you are wrong, in one of these non-real estate areas, you can actually loose up to 90% of your bucks. In real estate, if you are not greedy-not trying to get rich quick-in one year, you can make 100 times your money, on the upside. The particular downside risk is only based on how well you looked at the possibilities ahead of time. If you did, the downside risk is without a doubt reduced to only the holding time to fix an error. If you rush in and do not explore all the possibilities of a small business venture, you can actually loose 100% of your money. In my thought process an upside of 100 times profit is better than 10 times profit. My philosophy on real estate ownership seems to have changed in the last 15 years. I used to think that reselling at the top of the market was the smart move and buying from the crash. Now I feel that buying when prices are actually down is still a smart move but never selling will be way to go. In order to hold on to a property in a down market you require the most proper planning to survive the crash. This I call up a back door or emergency plan. This is have a very good plan and knowing what you will do if everything travels wrong with you original plan. When you have a backup prepare, you rarely need it. This is the basis of my vision. With this understanding, you might more clearly see why I did exactly what I did in these situations. The Stories and content: The area of real estate investing is one of the most complex mainly because it is a combination of law and real estate. It is one of the most helpful because fortunes are made and lost in this area, and the statistics are so enormous. Lastly it is an area where criminals can make a lot of money and many times get away with it. Following will be some stories (case histories) I have dealt with and some posts I have written on the subject of fraud in real estate. Finally, I had included an article on the basics of foreclosures and properties in general, for your interest. I hope you enjoy them. The Memories: Story #1: It was early March 2000 and That i received a call from Kevin. He said that he had heard about me from some mutual friends. The guy wanted to speculate in buying HUD houses (Properties the fact that the Government had foreclosed on). He wanted to buy them, take care of them up and then sell them at a profit. He previously heard that I had bought many foreclosures in the 70's and 80's and he was hoping I could encourage him. We met for lunch and he told me his life story. The important part of this conversation will be that he had bought a boarded up 14 appliance apartment building in downtown San Bernardino, across the street, collected from one of of the roughest high schools in California. By the last part of the meeting, I had figured out that he had overpaid with regards to $75, 000 for the building, he had already wasted $200, 000 trying to remodel it, and it was still $100, 000 away from being finished. He had bought it 1 . 5 years ago and a large part of his costs was the eye on all his loans, related to this project. She was now broke, and in deep trouble, but also in his mind, the badly needed money was upcoming. It is interesting to note where he got the money to get this project. 4 years earlier he was given cash to buy an apartment building by his father. He was given enough money that he only needed a very small $150, 000 real estate loan to purchase a building in Pasadena that cost him a total of $525, 000. To buy the San Bernardino rehab project, he first refinanced the first trust deed on the Pasadena building and ran the loan balance to $385, 000. When which will money was gone he borrowed $74, 000 in the form of second Trust Deed on both the Pasadena and San Bernardino properties. By the way, that loan cost him 15% interest and $15, 000 in up front fees to see the money. Before we parted, I told him that they made a very expense mistake in buying San Bernardino. I explained that from the day he bought a building it was a sure bet that the project may fail. I then had to tell him that I would not lend the pup any money on San Bernardino, to save his butt. Covering the next 2 months I received periodic phone calls, sharing me the progress of the fund raising. One of those posts I was told that the existing 2nd Trust Action lender was saying that he might give Kevin all the added $100, 000 he needed to finish the venture. At the same time, Kevin also believed he had found a bank or investment company that might refinance all the loans of San Bernardino. The issue with the bank loan was that the appraisal fee was $3, 000, and it had to be paid in advance, even to just simply apply for the loan. Again Kevin asked me for money. Again I refused to put more good money along his black hole. Then one morning I got a label from Kevin, "If I don't make the $2, 000 payment to the 2nd trust deed holder, he'll almost certainly start foreclosure in 2 days. Kevin also explained "The 2nd trust deed lender said that he would certainly buy the Pasadena apartment building for what I had settled it, 4 years ago, $525, 000. " The feature had a stipulation to it. Kevin had to bring the actual loan current first. In my mind, if Kevin could quite possibly bring the loan current, why would he sometimes bother to sell the property for a wholesale price? I wasn't able to believe what I was hearing. After hearing involves I decide that it is time I stop saying hardly any and help. What Kevin thought he wanted was initially a real estate loan for a lot of money. The truth is, that finances was not the solution to his problem. The problem had to be distinct from what Kevin believed, which is why the problem persisted. The real issue was not more borrowing. More borrowing meant more money downward the drain. Experience has taught me, "If this challenge was what Kevin thought it was, it wouldn't deemed a problem. " What does this phrase mean? The businessman has a financial set back. He thinks that through some short term funding he can recover from the set back not to mention return to the top. After looking around, our businessman will usually have the money, but strangely enough the problem doesn't resolve. When the problem did correct itself, then the businessman was ideal about what the problem was, and the problem would be gone. Normally the money doesn't help, but the businessman doesn't understand that. The person doesn't realize that the problem wasn't money in the first place. Should it were, the problem would now be gone. Lets us continue the explanation. The last money borrowed is now gone as well as problem persists, so our businessman goes out to find a higher cost to solve the problem that didn't solve with the money she borrowed, the first time. What happens the second time? The same thing. The money is required up and still the problem continues. Our businessman is implementing the wrong problem. The problem is not money, or the problem would've been gone. Kevin thought the problem was money. The software wasn't. He had already poured $300, 000 into the San Bernardino building, on top of the $209, 000 1st Put your trust in Deed loan that came about when he bought any building. Before he was finished, he spent through $500, 000 in a building that needs $100, 000 to accomplish, but was only worth $475, 000, after it had been finished. What could I do? Use what the good master gave me. 30 years of experience, on the subject of arising from problems that I created when I was young and eco-friendly. Here was the war strategy. I got Kevin for you to agree to turn over total management of the two properties with me. Knowing that I was managing the property and working on the things I believed was the correct problem, I felt snug about loaning money on this deal. If I can't put your trust in myself to solve this problem, whom can I trust? I begun by loaning Kevin $25, 000 to make needed vehicle repairs to the Pasadena building, pay the property taxes and to produce the first and second loans current on the Pasadena place only. Nothing was to be spent at this time, on the San Bernardino building. Now that I controlled the Pasadena flat building, I discovered what repairs the building needed. Typically the list was so long it took one man with three months, full time, to fully handle it. I then did a very descriptive market study and determined what the market would spend in rents. I asked the tenants for a menu of everything they wanted done in their apartments to be content. I then did everything the tenants requested and I then raised their rents 30%. After the building was 100 %, I raised the rents another 15%. The value of your building went up and I received an deliver for $725, 000. This was $200, 000 more than the value 6 months earlier. I put it into escrow, then I realized that I could raise the rents some more. I just raised the rents again in escrow and pressured the buyer to pay another $25, 000 for the building. Sending the price to $750, 000. That $225, 000 turn a profit was needed to help cover the money being lost throughout San Bernardino. Author's Note: The escrow fell by means of and the building was kept until this update, 12 , 5, 2004. The building is now in escrow pertaining to $1, 583, 000 What did I do about San Bernardino? I contacted the seller/lender and asked your pet if he would like me to pull the safety guard out of the building and let him have it instruction online foreclosure. He didn't want it back, even though he pretended that he was willing to do that. He offered me $25, 000 in incentives to get me to personally provide loans the money necessary for the completion of the building, so the person wouldn't have to take it back. For 3 months he attempted to get me to put money into the building, with the indisputable fact that once I put my money in I wouldn't disappear from it. The real story was that I wouldn't put the dime into that black hole until I discovered how to make it recover at least $100, 000 of Kevin's lost money. I asked for a $70, 000 lower price on the note, and offered to pay him off. We all negotiated for two months. Just when I was ready to surface finish the deal, the seller sold his note to someone else just for only a $30, 000 discount. I was not able to produce the money I wanted because now the new note holder sought 100% of interest and principal due. This used a monkey wrench into my negotiating. All this occasion, I had a buyer standing in the wings to buy the particular building from Kevin while I was negotiating. My spouse and i was then forced to sell the property to this buyer and also Kevin recovered only a little bit of his investment. The lender plus I were both playing a high stakes poker adventure. I lost this round. If I could have gotten typically the payoff reduced, Kevin would received a large hunk in money from an "as is" sale. This is what When i call playing "Craps" on a very big Monopoly panel. Author's Note: The buyer, thinking he was going to put $125, 000 to finish the remodeling, notified me, after one year, that he had spent $300, 000 to finish the making. The apartment building values were increasing rapidly do your best period, so Kevin's project was increasing in importance at the same time the buyer was going deeper and deeper to construction costs. The buyer made out all right in the end. Should the market had died, he would have lost $200, 000 on this building after Kevin had already lost a lot. It's all about timing, isn't it? Kevin learned that dollars alone was not the answer to his problems; he expected a Genie, to turn his turkey into a swan. Tale #2 Janet is the daughter of one of my oldest and wealthiest friends and clients. We have been doing realty deals together since 1975. Janet and her groom started buying distressed real estate in Phoenix Arizona through 1994, which was 8 years ago when it was the thing to try. It was now Dec 2000. The market appears to be slowing down as well as did after September 11, 2001. Janet had been continuously borrowing money from her father, whenever things received too difficult. She later sold everything in The phoenix airport and bought property in Northern California. Then on 1999, one year before I was brought in, she began buying real estate in Kansas City. One day Janet's papa called me and asked for my help. He had credited his daughter $200, 000 and felt that every little thing she owned was upside down. (Loans more than the market worth. ). This was further complicated by the fact that if your lover sold her properties, to pay off her father, the capital advances taxes would eat up any cash, from the sale. As well as all this, Janet kept asking for more money to keep up the installments on the properties that had a negative cash flow and couldn't have enough rental income. He hired me to help the daughter and agreed to pay my fee. I would manage this 40 years old kid, to get her to return the woman fathers $200, 000 and make herself totally arrears free. Janet and I met. She was remarkable. She did know what she was doing, as far as selecting good real estate deals. She owned, at the time of our appointment, 10 properties located in 2 different states, and it has $500, 000 in equity. If we could get it through, before her father had a stroke things could well be great. Janet agreed to the arrangement, happily, if I might be her adviser, not his. Her father agreed to fill whatever money was requested as long as I approved the software. Also I had to be the one to ask Janet's dad for the money, since the upset between the farther and daughter was basically getting unbearable. This is what we did. A list of needed maintenance tasks was created for each of the 11 properties. Bids were been given and the work ordered to be done within 30 days. I thought this was not to take months. It had to be done immediately therefore we could go to step two. Step 2 was to put on the market many of the expensive Northern California property. To my disbelief, Janet wanted to move her family, to a new city, in the center of all this and her father agreed to let her complete the work. She had found an old run down house that the woman felt was undervalued. That meant that her good old residence was put into the group of properties to sell. Market is what we planned to do. Everything was to be placed on the market, and sold at the best price to be been given, but sold regardless. The property in Kansas was that should be repaired and fully rented. The properties that could be offered for sale at what we thought was full retail, were even put on the market. The plan was that when everything was advertised, the father would get paid off; the loans on the staying properties would be paid off and the balance of the cash will be put into the bank. Since all of the Kansas deals appear to be a good quality investment, Janet could now continue to buy more Kansas property, (she had only been spending $25, 000 on each deal) but for all cash. The rental prices coming in would generate enough income for her family to live a life on without having to ask for money from dad or touching her investment nest egg. That was the plan. I forgot one last thing. Because many of the properties had been bought yrs ago on a 1031 exchanges (tax-free exchange), the capital gain tax burden was going to eat up the cash proceeds. That was one of the traps Jesse fell into. She felt she couldn't sell with out buying a replacement. Of course by not liquidating before starting anew, she would never get out of debt with her real estate providers or her father. The solution, for this problem was much easier than one would think. First, the father did a 1031 exchange with Janet for one of the big profit properties. The father sold Janet his personal residences for basically no money down. Now Janet rented her father the place he lives in. So much for capital gains place a burden on on the $150, 000 profit in that one big selling. The second big profit was in the house Janet currently were living in. That was tax-free under the current laws. Since the other sorts of houses sold had smaller profits, it was decided the business decision to get out of debt was more crucial than avoiding paying any taxes. Author's Note: Which was the plan. So what happened? Janet decided she didn't would like to sell the junk in Kansas and fired others. She refused to pay her father back and as regarding December 2004 he had not seen a dime. Dad has deducted what she owes him from him / her inheritance, which will be put into a trust administered by the brother for the benefit of the grandchildren. Real estate in Los angeles skyrocketed after 9/11/01 terrorist attack and her real estate all doubled in value. Summary: Everyone thinks the fact that his or her problem is not confrontable and therefore unsolvable. I have found who someone other than myself can solve my un-confrontable challenges in 10 min and I can do the same for the kids. It is not a question of being smarter, or more experienced, nonetheless experience helps a lot when coming up with easy solutions, promptly. It is really that we all are willing to confront someone else's problems quite easy than our own. When we are willing to confront our own problem head-on, solutions begin to appear miraculously. What I do is guidance people take their mountains and turn them within molehills. The molehills are then flattened with ease. Instructions to learn: First, do not think you are smarter than the individuals passed this way before you; you're not. Second, markets never go up forever, have not performed as if they will. Third, if you are not even prepared for the worst, it will kill you. If you are completely ready, it will only hurt a little. You will survive and can be purchased away much richer in the end.

[revolution-john]

How to Get to Destin

Downtown Hillsong crawled with potential felons on Fridays. The Hillsong County courthouse was a four-story beige brick building where motion hour for criminal cases was held every Friday. That’s where Maddie planned to meet Bone Sommers. Bone practiced law, but everyone knew he didn’t try at it much. He made a run for commonwealth’s attorney about five years ago and lost. After dropping that race to a known liar and embezzler, he went back to his dad’s old scrap yard and had been living there in a trailer ever since. He was smart and under the radar enough that Maddie wanted him for their lawyer if anything started flying from Dollar Bill’s trial and landing on her.

In the past year she had made a dozen or more runs along what the local cops called the The Flamingo Pipeline. A straight shot into Florida and back, two-day turnaround. There were a scary number of doctors in Florida prescribing without care oxycodone, hydrocodone, and Oxycontin. Prescribing any and all kinds of painkillers. Then, like all the rest, Maddie didn’t take long to get greedy. After her Pipeline runs she made regular monthly rounds at four local doctors and two pain clinics in nearby Inez. A side investment. There were a lot of loose ends, loose lips. Any of this could come out during Dollar Bill’s trial and Bone was at least some hope, if he would show up.

It was early afternoon before Maddie saw Bone’s truck pull into the courthouse parking lot. It looked put together with random pieces from his scrapyard, a gray fender wall, a tomato-red tailgate, and Bone looked as poorly thrown together when he popped out from the driver’s side. A short man, his jeans were too long and the heels of his boots had ridden the cuffs frayed against the ground. He was forty-seven and looked sixty, except in the eyes. His eyes were sharp blue under mostly oil-black hair. Wrinkling his face against a shaft of sunlight, he walked slowly, and Maddie seemed to remember he usually moved faster.

“Bone,” she said and nodded. “I’ve seen you move faster. What you been up to, besides making me wait outside a courthouse for two hours?”

“Maddie. Well, honey, I’ve been having a heart attack and not giving two shits, lately. I guess I won’t ask how you been. Not so good, considering you need a lawyer.”

“A heart attack?”  Maddie asked. She was looking in particular at the cigarette pinched in the fingers of his free hand. In the other was a cup of coffee. “When was that?”

“Been just about two weeks now. On my birthday, if you can believe that.”

Maddie pointed to the cigarette.

“Yeah,” Bone said in a way of acknowledgment. “You think it counts as suicide?”  He pulled a four long, hard draws and flicked the stub against the side of the courthouse.

“Not really sure, but late happy birthday.”

 “Ah, to hell with happy birthday,” he said, but was surprised she remembered. That was something.

He lit another cigarette.

“Okay then,” Maddie said. They had moved to the side of the entrance and Bone sat with his legs swinging off the side of the brick wall that lined the sidewalk.

 “I hope it counts as suicide, cause that’s my intention.”  He might have been talking to himself, eyes fixed across the street to a man selling green and red crosses made from beads. “You see that guy? His name’s Simon and he’s deaf and dumb. He hocks them bead crosses for seven bucks. I went by the Dollar General store and bought the same stuff and turns out it only costs about fifty cents to make one, when you figure it all up.”

The man, Simon, always smiled. She had seen him out here a few times. He smiled more in a day than Maddie had smiled in the last ten years. She looked again at Bone’s cigarette. “How many of them you going to smoke before we go in and get this started?”

Bone nodded, took a last drag from his cigarette, and caught up with Maggie. He hadn’t been in a courtroom in twelve years.

 Maddie married badly. Her husband, Shane Younce, was a no count, quick-tempered, spoiled mama’s boy who convinced himself he was a real man by beating Maddie into the hospital about three or four times a year.. Less than three months into the marriage, It was a hard thing to handle sober and so Maddie started buying weed from the car garage just below Hillsong’s public swimming pool. And for a time the weed and the liquor and beer kept her mind just numb enough to deal with Shane and all the hell he brought. But the Younce’s were connected in the little town, and for the very same reason she couldn’t even consider a divorce, she also found it wasn’t difficult to get stronger drugs riding on their good name.

In the first week at the garage, dropping Shane’s name, she connected with Dollar Bill, a mid-level drug dealer who sold in bulk from the back of the garage. He fixed her up with whatever she needed, and for the right price, too. From there it happened fast. One buy led to others and within two months Maddie was driving the Pipeline.

The set up was a good one until an undercover fed got Dollar Bill on audio and hidden camera selling him a Ziplock bag stuffed with pills. First thing Maddie thought to do was call Bone, who was okay with getting some work. She had a few thousand saved back from buy money for her last run that never happened. It really wasn’t her money. Fact of business, she didn’t really know whose money it was, but that wasn’t going to matter if she got sent to prison when Dollar Bill started singing.

The catastrophic possibility of Dollar Bill singing to the feds was what Maddie outlined for Bone outside courtroom B on the second floor, the circuit court level. She waited for what he would say while he shuffled around the water fountain.

“Can’t for the life of me see why they never put chairs or benches or something in the hallways,” he said, squatting beside the fountain.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What about all of this, Bone?  I’ve done handed you a wad of money. What are we going to do?”

“Not much to do while the judge still has court going on.”

She cracked the double doors to the courtroom and saw Judge John Carter Henley up in his high seat. He moved papers back and forth in front of him. Some blonde woman in a power suit was leaning up to talk to him so her calf muscles were nice and round and smooth. It made Maddie sad all over again thinking about her own stick legs and her belly pooch from drinking too much beer. Made her want something to drink right that second.

“I’ll have to sit down with him in chambers,” Bone said. He said his last word as if he were spitting something foul from his mouth.

“I need a drink or something,” Maddie said.

“You and me both.”

Maddie thought back to Bone talking about suicide when he first got there. “And what’s all this stuff about suicide?” she asked. “What the hell, Bone.”

He straightened up against the wall and slid to his feet. The wind escaped his lungs in a gush of air like it had been held captive, a secret from the rest of his body.

“I don’t know, Maddie, honey. I’m just tired is all. It drives me crazy that you probably wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if it wasn’t for that husband you got.”

“You might be right,” Maddie said. “But nobody twisted my arm, either.”

“Well, least you got something to get your blood going, even if it is worrying Dollar Bill Damron’s going to point his finger at you.” Bone’s face went still and serious. “The worse kind of life is one where they just ain’t nothing happening. It’d be nice to just strike out and head to the beach somewhere. Not Myrtle Beach. I mean a real beach. Some place like Destin, that town in Florida. You may even went past it or something on your trips down there.”

“Sonofabitch, I’m dead in the water,” Maddie hissed, more at the wall than to Bone.

The courtroom doors came open and three men tucked sideways past them. Maddie peeked in and saw a lot of movement near the bench. Bone asked the men before they rounded the corner if court was breaking and they told him the judge ordered a fifteen minute recess. He took Maddie’s elbow and leaned into her. When they were clear of the doors into the courtroom, Bone gave out a loud grunt.

“Maddie, honey, I just can’t do this for you. You already paid me, but I have to tell you that going up to the judge before Dollar Bill or whoever even mentions you is pretty much insane, no offense. You’re implicating yourself, understand?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I should’ve told you before now, but I’m in a rough place,” he said.

“You think?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Jesus, Bone. So what am I supposed to do?”

“Go home,” he said. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground and give you a call tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go home,” she admitted. “Let’s get something to eat or whatever.”

“Shane makes home not such a great place to be, I guess,” Bone said. “We’ll figure something out. We will.”

He turned the corner and left. The bailiff for courtroom B closed the suite doors and a quiet dropped all around Maddie.

“I don’t want to go home,” she said again in the empty hallway.

 The diagnosis was exactly the same as a month ago. The heart meds weren’t doing what they were supposed to be doing and the right coronary artery had experienced too much trauma from the heart attack. It didn’t help, the doc said, that Bone hadn’t stopped eating red meat, had continued smoking, and drank more now than he had before.

“There’s something else,” Doc Bradley said just before the appointment was over. “Your blood results showed cocaine in your system, Bone. Cocaine. Are you seriously telling me you’re using cocaine?”

“Um, yeah. I snorted a little to see what it was like. Trust me Doc, you don’t really want anything to do with coke. The results are undesirable.” Bone stopped. The look on Doc Bradley’s face was too much. He had forgotten that they blood tested him every appointment. Now the whole visit was going to be about cocaine. “Let’s chalk that one up as post-traumatic stress, what’s say, Doc? I’m just trying to get my head around this thing.”

“You are not terminal, you jack ass,” Doc said. “You’re not the walking dead. It ain’t good, I’ll say that. I won’t bullshit you. But you’re not dead.”

Bone nodded his way out of the appointment, took some ass-chewing, and left the office without having changed his views on anything. He lit a cigarette and reached under the seat and found the pint of vodka. He chased three drinks with some flat Pepsi and left the parking lot driving slow and careful.

The pay lake sat like a shined plate fifty yards or so from Route 670. Bone knew Shane would be there only a short time, fishing for bluegill to rig for bait if his net gave out fishing for cat down at the spillway. There was a window of opportunity, though, and Bone knew how to make the most of a window.

He had borrowed Casey Osborne’s truck, because Casey Osborne didn’t really give two shits if he got deep into anything. He was too far gone on meth and knew eventually he would end up in prison sooner or later. Deep tint, green-maybe-blue-maybe-black paint job, easy to forget with all the other trucks at the lake. Bone parked at the edge of the dirt parking lot and took a quick inventory of who was there. Other than Shane, only three other guys were fishing the lake. He could make that work. Tucking a row of quarters into his palm, Bone made a fist, pulled the ski mask down to his chin, and got out of the truck. Soon as his feet hit dirt, he took a dead run toward Shane. His figured if the three guys noticed who he was, it really didn’t matter. Two reasons: one, he was dying and, two, about everybody sort of wanted to see somebody beat the lights out of Shane Younce’s eyes for how he always treated Maddie.

Shane hardly had time to realize he was in something deep before Bone started popping him in the chest and shoulders and then the thighs. Hooks, jabs, a lot of punches landing everywhere except his head and face. Shane wasn’t a small guy, so he fought back some, but after about five hits to the torso he mostly lay on the ground and took the beating. Bone didn’t stop until Shane threw up, a bright yellow puddle that covered his tackle box. Once that happened, Bone took off in a sprint back to the truck. In the rearview he could see the other guys making their way over to Shane. They were smiling.

 Bone got a phone call from Maddie two days after tracking Shane down at the pay lake. She wanted to talk to him and asked that he come to her mom’s house on Rolling Branch. He saw Maddie first thing when he made it to the end of the long dirt driveway leading to the house. She waved from the porch steps and didn’t move when Bone got out of the car.

“You look more ragged than the last time I saw you,” Maggie said.

Bone sat down beside her. “Well, everything’s still making sense then.”

Maggie laughed, but it was weak and forced. She picked up his right hand and turned it over. His knuckles were skinned and raw.

“Destin,” she said.

“What?”

“Destin. Remember you were talking about heading out for a beach somewhere? Somewhere like Destin. Not Myrtle Beach.”

Bone took a pint bottle of vodka from his jacket pocket and took a long pull. “Absolutely I remember.”

“Be nice wouldn’t it?” Maggie said.

“That’s a fact.” He offered her the bottle. “So Destin. That’s what you called me about?

Maggie took his hand again and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, let me show you something before you finally finish the world’s longest ever suicide.”

Behind the house, the yard fell off in a long grassy slope. When they made it to the edge of that slope, there was another smaller one, soft and sandy, that ran straight to the river. Maggie took small steps down the sand bank and helped Bone until they both stood on flat land at the river’s edge.  

The water was usually a muddy brown, but the full afternoon sun sent flashes of white light across the surface. Maggie sat down, pulled her shoes off, and put her bare feet in the water. Bone watched the dancing light for a few more seconds and then did the same, closing his eyes so the only thing he could hear was a strong, steady current moving farther and farther and farther away.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

A Quiet Normal Life

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When Bucky comes out of cryo for the last time all he wants is a quiet, normal life.  

Warnings/ Content: Feels. Lots of feels. Typical sad then sweet fic.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I wanted to try my hand at a different writing style and so this fic was born. I’ve never tried a more narrative style before so it might be trash but I kinda like it. Hope you enjoy it on this dreary cold Sunday! XOXO - Ash

A Quiet Normal Life

After his final thaw from cryo Bucky has more bad days than good. He spends most of his time wandering around the new and unfamiliar world in a fog, caught between trying to forget the decades with HYDRA and to remember his fleetingly short life before the war. They promise him things will get better and he tries to believe them. It’s six months before the bad days balance with the good. 

Slowly his prewar memories return, breaking free from his mind like waves; some soft and gently breaking the surface, others wild and crashing threatening to drown him with their force. Eventually though when Steve gets that far off look in his eye and says “Remember that time, Buck...”, he really does remember. He remembers the taste of Missy Hanson’s sweet pink bubble gum that she always forgot to spit out before he kissed her. He remembers the wailing sound of their neighbors cat that woke them up almost every day during the scorching summer of ‘41. Bucky prays that as his memories return he will feel less like the Asset and more like Bucky Barnes. The end result is something entirely new and he is working to make peace with that. He slowly starts to think about what he wants his life to look like.

It’s a year before the good days outweigh the bad ones. Bucky finds he’s able to hold a conversation with strangers for more than thirty seconds without having a panic attack. He stops surviving on take out and Steve’s kindness, and starts going out to the store for groceries and things for his home. He collects little succulent plants, liking how easy they are to care for even if he hits a rough patch and forgets to water them for days at a time. Bucky finds reasons to linger in public places, no longer hurrying straight home after his errand. He’s surprised he doesn’t mind small talk with the girl who runs the cafe he favors, and some days he spends an hour at the park feeding ducks bits of bread and watching the world around him. 

The nightmares ease up and he’s getting sleep regularly again for the first time in seventy years. Everyone tells him he’s looking better, healthier, stronger. He looks for signs of these things in the mirror and tries to connect with what he’s seeing. It’s not just a hand, it’s his hand. The hair falling into his eyes is part of him, not an outside presence. Bucky thinks his body is nothing like The Asset’s and tries to take comfort in finding differences. His grey-blue eyes are clearer now, his skin is tanned from days spent outdoors tending his flock, a soft layer of fat now blurs his previously harsh, lean muscles. No one stops and stares at him anymore; the world seems to have forgotten he is an enemy, a danger. Or maybe, he thinks, he is so far from The Asset now he’s unrecognizable. Bucky starts feeling tentative hope that he’s going to have a normal life one day soon. 

A year and half after cryo he meets you. You’re new at the coffee shop and he thinks your smile is so bright it could blind him. The way you repeat his name as you write it on his paper to-go cup makes his cheeks heat and he almost bolts from the shop when your fingers collide with his as you pass him his drink. The second time he sees you he’s prepared, he steels his nerves and asks you about the muffins in the display case. He’s never bought food there before but it seems a plausible reason to make conversation. You’re friendly, helpful, and he thinks he would do just about anything to keep you talking. Bucky chooses to sit in a corner with his coffee instead of retreating the way he usually does. He picks at the blueberry muffin, having bought it out of politeness and not hunger. New memories bubble up as he sits and he wishes absently that he had the blind confidence of his youth. Back in his early twenties he would have planted himself at the end of the counter and chatted you up until he had you blushing, smiling that perfect smile of yours, and agreeing to see him Friday night. But he’s over 100 now, not that he looks it, and has too many scars, both inside and out, that hold him back. 

It’s two weeks of stopping in daily before Steve realizes something is going on. Bucky has tried a dozen new drinks and various pastries all at your suggestion. He doesn’t care what’s in his cup but listening to you describe the different drinks makes his chest feel warm in a way it hasn’t been since before the war. Steve finally asks about it one day when Bucky stops in to his office for their morning hello’s. Bucky’s blushes brightly and tells Steve all the quiet things he’s noticed about you that have him going back everyday. Steve hugs him tightly, assures him this is a good thing: progress. Steve tries helping Bucky build his confidence, reminding him everything he is feeling is normal and okay. 

It takes four more weeks before Bucky is brave enough to ask you on a date. Not that he calls it a date. No, he stumbles over his words with shaking hands and a blush that spreads all the way down to his chest. He asks you to join him on a walk around the park after your shift ends in a few hours. You agree with a quick smile, relieved he’s finally asked you out. You know who he is, who he was, and it doesn’t dissuade your interest in him. You look forward to his morning trips into the cafe, your heart stuttering in your chest when he dares to look up at your face through those impossibly long lashes of his. He’s nervous and you try to keep from adding to that. You’re always calm and patient when it’s his turn at the counter, you don’t make any sudden movements and keep your hands where he can see them the whole time. Subtle, small things that most people take for granted but are ingrained in your habits ever since your brother returned from Afghanistan with his own set of demons. You know the steps to the delicate dance around a land mine filled mind.

The walk around the park is quiet at first, you let him take his time adjusting and give him quiet smiles when he glances over at you. Bucky worries you can hear the pounding in his chest when you smile at him. His breathing is labored but not from exertion and he tries to make conversation though he knows he’s not good at it yet. But you don’t complain, you just go along with the flow of things. He’s relieved you don’t push him when he stops mid-thought and needs a moment to collect himself again. The outing lasts all of thirty minutes and at the end he gives you a stiff, forced hug before parting ways. He wants to wrap his arms around you so badly, but the physical contact is almost a little too much and he’s terrified of how strongly he craves the feeling of your body pressed against his. You’re surprised when he begins pulling you towards him and you force your body to be still, giving him a chance to go as far as he’s willing with no pressure from you. It’s an exquisite form of toruture having him so near, wanting the physical contact so badly, and yet reigning in your desires to not scare him off. Bucky pulls back after a few seconds and you can’t hide the wide smile that’s formed. He smiles back, forgetting his hesitation for a moment, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight. Bucky retreats then, scared to prolong what had been a perfect outing for fear of ruining it in some way.

Walks in the park become a daily occurance and Bucky enjoys the easy flow of his days. There is a simple kind of peace in knowing what the next day will hold and he cherishes it. He feeds his flock, gets coffee, visits Steve and sometimes Shur or T’Challa, works on his little farm, walks around the park with you, and then heads home to read or watch TV during the heat of the day. Steve stops over most nights to hang out and it’s two months after his first walk with you that Bucky asks Steve to not stop by the following day. Steve is concerned but Bucky explains he is expecting a different dinner guest: you. The pride that burns in Steve is bright and radiates from him brilliantly. Bucky shies away from the attention but appreciates it all the same. 

Two hours before you’re set to arrive Bucky throws up and then calls his therapist. He’s not ready to bring you into his home. He wants to be, but the fear that claws in his chest reminding him that he’s dirty, rotten, damaged, ruined, dangerous, keep him frozen in place. He’s shaking and cold against the bathroom tile as his therapist walks him through grounding techniques and affirmations. When the nausea rises again forty minutes before you arrive he’s able to fight it back and thinks that’s enough progress to keep on as planned. 

Bucky feels your presence in his home on a visceral level; the air feels different, the light a little brighter. He wonders what his little collection of rooms looks like to your eyes. He knows it’s not much but it’s his and he hopes desperately that it meets your approval. Bucky hangs on every little sigh and hum you make as you wander around his living room. The delicate way you hold onto a terracotta pot with both hands, carefully admiring his Roseum plant, makes him want to feel your hands entwined in his. Bucky can’t decide if he loves or hates the way you are so painfully careful around him, and now also his home. He can’t help but notice the way you hold yourself back when you start to get excited over something, how you slow your movements so as not to startle him, always announcing your intentions if you have to move around him or touch him in some way. It’s a kindness he never expected and helps him let his guard down just a fraction more around you. He wishes it wasn’t necessary though; he wants to see you unfiltered, unrestrained, happy, and free. A long buried part of him wants to see you fall apart completely for him.

It’s another month before he dares to kiss you. The voice in his head that rails against him reminding him of his faults does not go away, but it quiets long enough for the briefest brush of his lips to yours. Two more months and you’re stumbling into bed together, literally stumbling. Bucky’s heel catches on the cuff of his pant leg and he falls gracelessly onto his grey blanketed bed. You flop yourself down next to him giggling, glad that the mood is lightened a fraction. You’re both nervous; Bucky worried about disappointing you, and you worried about doing something to trigger him. It’s awkward and stumbling and he wouldn’t have it any other way, because it’s with you. Things get better the second time around and even better the time after that. You take your time learning each other’s bodies, unhurried and patient.

A year and a half later you’re living together, choosing to move your belongings into his home where he’s most comfortable. The nightmares slowly receded until they are just distant memories. He feels safe letting you share his bed and secretly thinks your presence helps keep the nightmares away. You are more worried than he is about the change of merging your lives. Bucky likes the way your things fit around his, making his home feel full and warm. It gives him another layer of peace he didn’t know his life was missing. Bucky loves the quiet, sleepy mornings laying in bed with you when nothing else matters but the way the light hits your hair against the pillows. You whisper words of love in the dark at night, promises to each other for always. Bucky starts to think of his future in a broader sense than what the next few days will bring. 

The future comes. The years blur together as time passes and Bucky is awestruck by how quickly a collection of days becomes a year and then years. Bucky proposes two years after you move in, it’s not a grand gesture, barely more than a hushed plea. Your wedding is equally subdued, exactly as you both wanted it to be. Life goes on whether you want to slow it down or not and you ride the wave of time together. From celebrations to mournings you face it all side by side and slowly Bucky comes to realize he got exactly what he wanted all along. A quiet, normal life.