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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

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Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other.

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon.

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand.

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend.

“ I’m fine. “

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead.

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “

“ ‘s not that bad. “

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book.

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement.

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit.

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in.

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face.

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “

“ Huh? “

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear.

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief.

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle.

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Not really. “

“ Ah, what a shame.”

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.”

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.”

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.”

“ Huh. “

“ Mmmh.”

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “

“ Are you ?”

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky.

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “

“ Ran where? “

“ Away. “

“ Away as in you left. “

“ Mm-mmh”

“ Just like that? “

“ Yup. “

“ Why? “

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place.

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.”

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?”

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy.

“ I have no idea what you just said. “

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning.

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing.

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “

“ We are? “

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “

“ I don’t even know you. “

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back. “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness.

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “

“ Perfect, Bucky. “

“ Bring a jacket. “

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing.

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries.

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar.

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook.

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly.

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can.

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue.

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen.

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?”

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around.

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice.

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people.

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles.

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back.

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns.

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while.

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen.

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile.

“ So, what did we learn today? “

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment.

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others.

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “

“ That’s literally what happened. “

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.”

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “

“ Alright. Noted. “

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “

“ Hmm? “

“ The one you went on a date with? “

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.”

“ Why not? “

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.”

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.”

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “

“ Swing. “

“ You swing dance? “

“ I did. “

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in.

“ You twirled me! “

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that.

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk.

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “

“ Yup. “

“ Hey, Bucky.”

“ What? “

“ You really can dance.”

“ Told you. “

“ Can I tell you a secret? “

“ Sure. “

“ I can’t dance for shit. “

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “

“ Absolutely not.”

“ Oh, 100%! “

“ We’ll see about that.”

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now.

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “

“ Alright, if you say so. “

“ Thanks for walking me home. “

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night.

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “

“ Can’t wait. “

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye?

“ I uh — I should go. “

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.”

“ You too, (Y/N).”

“ Oh and Bucky? “

“ Yes? “

“ Give Leah a call. “

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #mcu imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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tuiccim · 3 years

Text

Terrigenisis (Part 8)

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 2247

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: Fluff and SMUT (18+, NSFW)

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist Divider by @firefly-graphics

Two weeks later, the three of you wake in Bucky’s bed, where you end up most often. Steve looks at the clock and groans, “I gotta head back to my room.”

"No, stay." You murmur, pulling him closer.

"I gotta change for our run, Doll." Steve chuckles.

"No run today. Just bed." You whine.

"You say that everyday." Bucky laughs sleepily.

"I mean it everyday." You grumble.

Steve kisses you, "I'll see you in a little bit."

"We need to build a secret passageway between our rooms." You say.

"Actually, I was thinking…" Steve pauses.

"What were you thinking, punk? Don't leave us in suspense." Bucky says.

"I was thinking once all this is out we could combine our three rooms. Turn it into an apartment with a living room and a small kitchen."

"And a bigger bathroom." You add.

"Exactly. What do you think?"

"Sold." You grin.

"Same." Bucky says.

“I love you.” Steve says.

“Love you.” You and Bucky say in unison.

You start to get up as Steve leaves but Bucky hauls you back against him. "Where ya going, Doll?"

"I should go change for our run, too." You chuckle and snuggle against him.

"I know. Just wanted a few extra minutes." Bucky nuzzles his face into your neck.

"Mmmmm… Bucky. We have a-" you're interrupted by a kiss, "mission briefing-" another kiss, "at nine." You give up talking for a moment and just give in to Bucky's need for attention. However, when Bucky's hand begins to drift south of the border, you stop him. "We have to train. Let's go, love." Rolling away from him quickly, you bounce out of the bed. At the door, you blow him a kiss before heading to your own room to change.

You go on your run with your guys and Dizzy then train, shower, and go to the mission briefing. The mission is a simple turn and burn. The entire team goes and returns in less than 14 hours but somewhere towards the end of the mission you notice a change in Steve’s demeanor. You had recovered a good bit of Chitauri weapons and energy cells from the base you had invaded. You wonder if it brought back memories of the Battle of New York for him.

After a quick shower, you head to Steve’s room. He answers your knock and you slip into his room.

“I was about to head to Bucky’s room. What are you doing?”

“I wanted to check on you. Something triggered you on this mission. I could see it.” You see him warring with himself.

“Chitauri stuff always brings back New York.” He says quietly. He moves to his desk and pulls a small card out of his drawer. It’s a vintage Captain America card stained dark brown around the edges. Dried blood.

“Coulson.” You say without thinking.

“You know about Coulson?” Steve says, surprised.

Realizing your blunder, you recover quickly to say, “My last team told me about him.”

“You never did tell me about your team from before. You’ve never spoken about them.”

“It’s classified, Steve. I can’t. I’m sorry.” Your eyes beg him to understand.

“I have level 8 clearance. Your clearance is only level 6. You can tell me.”

“It’s codeword classified. Please understand, love, I would tell you if I could,” you look at him pleadingly.

“I understand. I didn’t mean to push you.” Steve wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask. Steve nods and tells you the story of meeting Phil Coulson and his death before fighting the battle of New York. You hold Steve the entire time he speaks. “I’m so sorry you lost him. It sounds like he was a good man who you respected.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, doll. I know you’ve lost a lot of people too. I shouldn’t let it affect me so much.”

“Don’t ever apologize for telling me how you feel.” You say as a knock sounds on the door and Bucky enters.

“Hey. Everything okay?” Bucky looks between the two of you.

“Yeah. I was telling her about Coulson.” Steve says quietly and takes the card from your hand. He looks at it, sighs heavily, and places it back in the drawer. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve from behind and Steve’s head drops down as he covers Bucky’s hands with his own.

“It wasn’t your fault, baby.” Bucky says quietly.

You move to them and wrap your arms around them from the side. Part of you still feels like you are an intruder in their relationship at times. A larger part of you right now felt incredibly guilty that you couldn’t tell him that Phil Coulson was alive and well and Director of the Inhuman division of Shield. There is a chance you can, you realize. Once the three of you separate, you agree to meet in Bucky’s room as usual. You hurry to your room and grab your phone. Dialing the special line Hill had provided, you wait for an operator to come on the line.

“SHIELD.”

“Codeword: Tahiti. Protocol: Delta. Team: Avengers.” You say.

A brief pause and then a single word, “Denied.”

“Codeword: Tahiti. Protocol: Delta. Individual: Steve Rogers.”

“Denied.”

“Direct line. Fury.”

“Denied.”

“Direct line. Maria Hill.”

“Approved.”

You hold on the line as it rings through to Hill. “Maria Hill.”

“Hill, I need to talk to Fury.” You say emphatically.

“He’s not going to clear the team to know about Tahiti.” Hill says curtly.

“I can’t keep lying to them, Maria.”

“You aren’t lying. You just aren’t telling them everything.”

“It’s not right.”

“But it’s what has to be. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t easy but the less people that know about the Inhuman Division the better right now.”

“Right. A bunch of Enhanceds shouldn’t know about a bunch of Gifteds even though one of them is among them.” You reply sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. Good luck.” Hill says, hanging up.

You resist the urge to throw your phone at the wall. After taking a few minutes to calm yourself, you change into a nightgown and make your way to Bucky’s room. You find Steve and Bucky already curled up together in the bed. Steve is laying on his side with Bucky curled around his back. You slide into the bed, facing Steve and wrap your arms around the two of them.

“Hey Doll.” Steve whispers.

“Hey Baby. Are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah. I’m okay. I think I’m in your spot though.” He chuckles lightly.

“I think you’re right where you need to be. Wrapped up in the arms of the two people who love you most. Right, Bucky?” You say.

“Absolutely. We’ve got you.” Bucky whispers and kisses Steve’s shoulder.

“I love you both, too.” Steve says as he puts his hand to your neck and pulls you to him for a kiss. His lips move over yours firmly and his tongue slips into your mouth. You moan as you press more firmly against him. Steve’s hands become more demanding as he lifts your nightshirt up to grab a handful of your bare ass. He presses his forehead to yours and says urgently, “I need you. I need both of you.”

“You have us, Baby. Whatever you need.” Bucky’s hands rove over both of you. He helps Steve slide his pants off and Steve’s hands pull your nightshirt off. Bucky gently strokes Steve while Steve explores your folds. He traces over them lightly pulling breathy moans from you as he thrusts into Bucky’s hand slowly. When he presses a finger inside you gasp at the pleasure that rolls through you. He works you quickly building your passion until you’re thoroughly wet and then pulls your leg over his hip. His hard length slides along your wetness until he finally presses home. You kiss him as he sheaths himself inside you and you feel Bucky’s hand trail over your body until he rests it on the small of your back encouraging each thrust.

“Bucky, need you.” Steve groans as you clench around him.

“I’m right here, baby. What do you want?” Bucky whispers.

“Need you inside me, Buck. Please.” Steve says.

Bucky prepares himself and Steve slows his thrusts into you as Bucky presses into him gently. You reach around Steve, opening him for Bucky. This is the first time they’ve shared this intimacy with you. You were always the one in between them and their focus was more on you than each other, but tonight Steve needed to feel you both. To feel the love you have for each other envelope him. Bucky readied Steve and then slowly pressed into him. Steve’s body tensed and relaxed at the intrusion.

“Fuck, Stevie. You’re so tight around me. Been too long since I felt you. God, I love you.” Bucky groans as he begins to gently thrust into Steve. Steve’s face twisted in passion and he moaned as you clenched around him and Bucky thrust into him.

“Oh, God. It’s so good. Feeling both you.” Steve grabbed you around the waist and pulled you down on his cock hard causing you to cry out in surprise. “Shit, did I hurt you, Doll?”

“No! Don’t stop, baby. Give it to me. However you need it. However you want. Give it to me. Now.” You say staring into his eyes. The intensity in his face turns you on even more and you stare into each other as he repeats the action over and over again. The three of you move in rhythm, moaning your pleasure, and giving into each other’s needs. Your orgasm builds with each thrust into you, each grunt as Bucky works into Steve, and each moan Steve releases as he feels his two loves surrounding him.

“I’m close.” Steve grits out as he slams into you again.

“Me, too,” you and Bucky say nearly in unison.

“Fuck. I want this forever. It’s…” Steve falters as the pleasure washes over him.

“Perfect.” Bucky groans as he loses himself to the sensations. You hold tightly to your two men as your orgasm overtakes you. Each of you release long moans as you cum together and even after your bodies rock together as you come down from the high.

The next morning as Bucky showers, Steve is sitting against the headboard as you wake up.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

“Mmm, good morning.” You say as you stretch. You look up at him with a smile but his expression is troubled. “Hey. What’s the matter?” You ask as you sit up.

“Are you… happy?” He asks.

“Steve.” You pull yourself up on your knees next to him, “Yes, I am. Very happy. Why would you ask me that?”

“I just… were you okay with what happened last night?” He asks looking down at his hands.

“Baby.” You cup Steve’s cheek as you move to straddle him, “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t I be okay with last night? We made love. It was wonderful.” Steve looks into your eyes searchingly and suddenly it dawns on you what he’s alluding to. “Stevie, did you think I’d be upset that Bucky was inside you?”

“It’s not that I want you less or, or, or anything like that. I just needed-”

“Shhhh,” you put your fingers over Steve’s lips. “Don’t ever feel like you need to justify your love for Bucky, emotional or physically. To anyone. You and Bucky were together before I came into the picture and you told me your relationship was physical. Why would you think I’d ever have a problem with you two making love in any way you wanted to?”

“There’s still just a stigma to it, I guess. We haven’t done that before with you and I don’t know. I guess a part of me still felt like because you were here we shouldn’t anymore.”

Your heart hurts at that confession. Despite everything, he was still holding back from you. Scared that you would judge him for loving Bucky so completely. A tear falls from your eye and you swipe at it quickly but he sees.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Steve’s voice cracks a little.

“I want you to love Bucky as completely as you love me and vice versa. In every way you see fit. Please don’t hold back part of your relationship just because of me. I want to be with you both. In every way. In any combination of ways.” You give a little laugh through your tears. “Love us. Love us all the way. With everything you want to give us. I promise you, I will never judge your love for Bucky. Love me enough not to hold part of yourself back.”

Steve’s chest heaves as he puts his forehead to yours, “I love you. God, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Stevie.”

“Can I join in on this love fest?” Bucky’s voice breaks in.

“Just the man we were talking about.” You sass.

Bucky sits next to Steve and puts his arm around him. “In our time, Doll, our love, our relationship would never be accepted.”

“I know. And even now the three of us being in a relationship will be hard for people to accept, but I would walk through fire for you two. A few nasty comments definitely won’t change my mind.”

“Mine either.” Bucky says.

“I’m with you.” Steve says.

“Til the end of the line.” You smile at them.

Part 9

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

If You Stumble... - Pt.1

Step One

Type: Three-shot, part of a soulmate AU series (part 1 here)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3300

Summary: If you stumble...make it part of the dance.

In which you ask Steve what your date would look like if you lived the forties. He decides to show you instead. There are few flaws, holes to see through to glimpse beyond that illusion.

But what life would be besides boring if everything was perfect? Perfect dress. Perfect date. Perfect gentleman…?

CH1 - Starring: innocent questions, soft, witty and badass Steve, unfazed Fury, likeable Agent M. and Tony being a surprisingly good bro.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF, very brief violence if that even counts...

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It was an innocent question really or you thought so.

Steve was walking you home after date number seven – officially anyway, with how attached you became to your phone, you might as well say you were on one never-ending date, only taking a time-out when sleeping –, talking about everything and nothing. You had been bowling, your idea after you had found out he had never played before and yet he handed your ass to you, kissing it better (kissing your loser’s pouting better, not your bottom, you still weren’t there).

“So… you got a taste of a 21st century date. What dating looked like in the late thirties and forties?” you hummed, glancing at him curiously as you walked side by side, hand in hand.

You purposely didn’t ask him about dating in ‘his time’; despite him telling you he wasn’t fully accustomed to the 21st century, you couldn’t see it 98% of the time. He belonged here as much as he had probably belonged back there.

“Hm…” Steve mused, apparently giving it serious consideration and you smiled for yourself, wondering if he was thinking about an ideal date he would come up with in the past. In the end, he shrugged. “Dancing was popular back in the day. Music and dancing. Going to pictures too.”

He fell silent then, not elaborating, seemingly lost in thoughts. You leaned into his arm, guilt settling in your stomach. You hadn’t meant to sadden him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, earning a confused glance. “I didn’t want to… poke at sore spot.”

He blinked and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he shook it and stopped in his tracks – hence preventing you from continuing your gait too as his fingers were still interlaced with yours. His free hand cupped your cheek and his lips found your forehead first before pecking your own.

“You didn’t,” he declared, giving you a half-hearted smile. You looked up into his eyes, knowing for sure he wasn´t telling the truth, and raised an eyebrow. His smile grew more sincere after that, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. “I promise.”

You sighed, but shortly met his lips once more, letting it go and obediently started rambling about your first experience with bowling.

You knew Steve wasn’t quite listening, mostly because when you stopped talking, he didn’t react. You spent the rest of the walk in silence, him lost in another world and you mentally kicking yourself with vigour, anxiety twisting your insides. You hated you had made Steve brood.

Stupid, stupid woman!

With Steve having been absent-minded for the past few minutes, it took you off guard when you reached your building and he suddenly tugged sharply on your hand, forcing your body to spin, and caught your mouth in a searing kiss.

You blinked, shocked, gripped his shoulders to maintain your balance, but soon let yourself melt into him, relaxing into the kiss that set you on fire despite not expecting the lunge. His fingers curled around your nape, his tongue dancing with yours, stealing the air from your lungs and effectively turning your bones into goo.

Your head was spinning by the time his forehead rested against yours, your lips parted, unable to form words. Steve tenderly caressed your nose with his.

“Let me take you out,” he breathed out, making your eyes, fallen shut at some point of his ministration, snap open. A baffled chuckle escaped you at the request.

“What?”

Both of his palms framed your face as he stole another kiss, this time softer, soothing. He was smiling, his eyes twinkling with something that brought the butterflies in your stomach to life.

What was he talking about though? Did you miss something? You thought you were dating. Wasn’t going out, spending time together, kinda the point? You’d admit your brain was floating a bit thanks to his unexpected display of affection, but you weren’t that out of loop, right? Why would he ask that?

“Let me take you out,” he repeated, voice firmer. When you inspected his face for any hint of what he meant, still confused, he finally clarified. “You said I had a taste of the 21st century dating. Well, I’d like to show you a bit of the old Brooklyn charm.”

Your heart pondered in your chest, threatening to burst at the sweet suggestion. You observed his expression for a long time, seeking any trace of the idea bringing back painful memories, regret of unfulfilled wishes of the past, but you saw none. He radiated nothing but hope and eagerness.

Your lips unwittingly spread in a smile nearly wide enough to tear your mouth.

“Really?” you checked carefully, his barely audible ‘yeah’ brushing your lips. “Then yes.”

You didn’t think his expression could light up more, but clearly you were wrong. He rewarded you with another breath-taking kiss, lifting you few inches above the ground, which caused you to giggle.

Was it possible to burst from happiness? You were feeling pretty close to that, the L word threatening to roll off your tongue. You barely held it back, but still did, worried it might ruin the moment, so preciously shining with delight.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He pressed another firm kiss to your forehead, himself grinning like a fool, and set you back on the ground. You didn’t want to say goodbye, but you knew it was inevitable. He had told you he was heading out for a mission in the morning; simple one, he had claimed, but he still needed to get some shuteye.

Looking up to him seriously, you pleaded him to be careful and stay safe. He promised to do so, the giddiness not quite leaving his aura.

You found yourself falling asleep light-hearted, leaving worries for tomorrow.

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Steve finished the mission the very same day he left for it. The relief washing over you was way bigger than you were willing to admit; to be fair, Steve may have been slightly more hurt than he was willing to admit, so you called it even. He also insisted on ‘taking you out’ on Saturday, knowing too well that kind of talk would distract you from your fretting. Lovable bastard.

He said he would let you know the details during the week.

And he did. Those were seemingly random bits of information slipped into your conversations; wear a dress.

Don’t do any exercise on Saturday.

I have a meeting before that I sadly cannot escape, but I’ll pick you up at half past seven.

You’ll probably want to have light dinner before the date.

It was only one piece of info at time and you could hear the mysterious smile in his voice every time he refused to tell you more. To be fair, you had a good idea of what was going to happen. You were going dancing. Which was a bit funny and bit intimidating, because you had already tried something that might resemble that activity on his birthday and your technique definitely needed improvement. However, you trusted Steve; if you were about to make an ass of yourself, he would make sure it was in private at least.

Then the last piece of information came when you were talking on Friday night: wear dark nylons.

“…what?”

You had thought your outfit through; you were making your best effort to look a bit like the women of the old days, but not overwhelmingly so for Steve. To say you were surprised by his request was an understatement; you would have never imagined Steve would want you to wear anything in particular and you had no idea what to think of it.

“Just do, please?” he pleaded, the trademark smile of past few days no doubt creeping into his tired voice. The upcoming meeting had been keeping him busy, you knew that much if only because you had managed to meet for lunch once and that was it. But tonight, he sounded just exhausted.

You bit your lip when an idea on raising his spirit occurred to you.

“So… is that a practical issue or is it simply something you like on a girl?”

It worked. He chuckled, surprise and disbelief colouring his next words.

“Doll! Come on!”

“What?” you asked innocently, laughing at his exasperation. He was blushing. You were sure of it. “Alright. I’ll make sure to dress to your liking, Mr. Rogers.”

“Not to be too daring, but you’re being mean today.”

“Are you complaining?”

He sighed. “I guess I’m not. I hate to say goodbye, but I gotta go.”

You huffed, knowing he must have had tons of work still ahead.

“Okay. It was good to hear you, Steve. Take care? I’ll be thinking of you so you survive… figuratively speaking!”

“I’ll try, doll,” he reassured you and you imagined his smile turning tender. “Hey, I… I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I miss you.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, happy grin finding its way to your face.

“I miss you too, Steve. I-“ love you “-I can’t wait. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

He ended the call and you whined, hiding your face in your palms. The urge to confess your feelings was getting stronger each day. If he wasn’t going to say those words soon, you might actually slip. Would it be so bad, though? If you said it first? Hard to tell.

With a determined huff, you made your way to the bathroom, wanting to wash away all the worries in the shower stall.

Well. You could at least try.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You were giving your make-up the last touch when the ring echoed in your apartment. Slow smile spread on your lips, as you finished, grabbed your purse and a thin sweater and nearly ran downstairs; well, as much as one could run in heels.

When you opened the front door though, you were met with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in a suit. He stood straight, hands by his sides, face serious, but inviting.

You frowned. Who the hell was he? Why was he here? Now of all times.

You were just opening your mouth to ask when he beat you to it.

“Madam. I’m here to drive you to your… date,” he informed you formally, wavering a bit at the end as if he didn’t know what the proper word was. It had you frowning harder, a chill of fear creeping up your spine. “Captain Rogers got held up in the meeting and asked me to pick you up.”

Your suspicion spiked. Yeah? And why didn’t he let you know? Surely, he could shoot you a text at least if that was the case?

What the hell was going on?

“And who you might be?”

“Apologies, madam,” he swiftly pulled out a simple and very familiar card from the front pocket of his jacket. You squinted at it. “Agent Morales of SHIELD, at your service.”

Was he… was he really showing you… that?

“Why are you showing me your driving licence?” you asked, perplexed. What the hell? Either this was a bad guy with zero experience or he was simply an idiot.

A smile played on his lips when you looked up at his face. “Captain Rogers said you’d be able to see if it was fake unlike with our service badges.”

For few moments, there was deadly silence between you. You stared at the licence in front of you, surprised he actually handed it to you to inspect it. You only needed seconds to tell this truly was George Morales’ proper driving licence. Still, you watched it a little longer, unable to form words.

And then you burst out laughing, the tension in your shoulders easing.

You gave Agent Morales his licence back, the amusement on his face not escaping your notice.

Turned out he wasn’t an idiot in the end; he was just victim of Steve’s wit, not that he seemed to mind. It had been a short and unpleasant talk with Steve, about someone possibly wanting to get to him through you if they knew you were dating – or worse, actually knew about you being his soulmate – and it was followed by longer, not any more appealing talk encouraging you to be slightly paranoid.

So you were. Nevertheless, this man definitely convinced you he had been sent by Steve.

Agent Morales beckoned to a car with dark windows standing nearby.

“Shall we?”

You only nodded in response, unable to hold back another chuckle as you climbed in the back, silent ‘wow’ escaping you when you saw the black leather of the seats.

“Can I ask what held him up?”

“Meeting, madam. If I may… people in high places can be rather insistent.”

“Yeah, I bet…” you murmured, trying to contain the shadow of sadness at not seeing Steve just yet.

One hand on the steering wheel, the agent offered you his phone. You tilted your head in confusion, but accepted it. There was an unmistakable triangle in the middle of the black screen – a video to watch, you realized.

“What is it?”

“The gathering is at the Tower. We were informed that everything will be recorded. Mr.Stark was generous enough to provide me the footage for you,” he explained, but you weren’t sure what exactly it meant.

“A footage of what?”

You caught his grin in the rear mirror. “You’ll see, madam. Let’s just say I watched videos of Captain Rogers in the field-“ Well, at least someone did. “- and training, but this is the most badass thing I saw him do.”

Your eyebrows shot up at the informal language he used all of sudden and you tapped on play.

The frame was rather small for such space of the conference room, but you could easily recognize Steve and Tony siting at the table as well as a black man with an eye patch – what the hell – and three more men in suits; Agent Morales by the door and two sitting at the table, looking like very important people you wouldn’t want to cross paths with.

It was Tony’s cocky voice you heard first. “Look, just because you said-“

He was interrupted by an alarm beeping and everyone’s head snapped Steve’s direction, while he straightened and slipped his hand to his pocket, pulling out his phone and silencing it.

Your breath hitched for two reasons; firstly, did he really set an alarm to… what, tell him it was time to get ready for a date? That was incredibly sweet. Secondly: fear. Was he about to get in trouble for that?

“Oh, that’s nothing. Wait for it,” the agent uttered, a knowing smile in his voice.

“What the hell was that?” the ‘eye-patch’ man demanded, sounding more annoyed than exasperated.

Steve rose to his feet. “I gotta go.”

Your hand shot up to your mouth. Oh. Oh, Steve.

“I beg your pardon?” one of the suited men hissed.

“Excuse me, I need to go.”

“You have a hot date or what?” the black man asked and… did you see a smirk on his face? No, must have been your imagination, there was no way you could see their facial expressions, the screen was too small for that.

Tony in the video snorted.

“As a matter of fact, sir, I do.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered into your palm, hearing a real-life chuckle from the driver’s seat.

“Gets better.”

What?!

One of the intimidating white men in expensive suit rose from his seat, leaning onto the table as if he wanted to intimidate Steve. Ha, he wished. But worries twisted your gut. Was Steve getting into trouble for this? It didn’t look like it, judging by Agent Morales’ momentary amusement, but still.

“This is a matter of national security! It holds the greatest importance!” he sputtered, his face getting a shade of red.

“With due all respect, Senator Brendon, so does she,” Steve announced evenly.

Your jaw fell into your lap, your eyes going wide and filling with tears under the wave of emotions hitting you. You gasped, staring at the device in your hand, blinking.

Did he… did he really just say that? To Senator’s face?!

Clearly, the men in the room were equally shocked – and not nearly as moved as you were.

“You’re not leaving this meeting just so you can go see your girl-toy and get la-“

The Senator never got to finish the sentence which immediately struck you with humiliation and indignation.

You only blinked, wondering when exactly Steve had moved to have the man pinned against the table, hand twisted behind his back, hissing furious words, his voice like venom.

“Do not talk about her like that!”

Despite the horrifying situation, the picture was almost funny. Why? Because Tony was calmly examining his nails as if they held great importance, the other senator’s face was terrified as he jumped back, the black man only had his eyebrow raised and… Agent Morales stood by the door, seemingly unfazed as well.

You paused the video, unsure you wanted to see the rest, your mind racing.

“Weren’t... weren’t you supposed to… I don’t know, draw a weapon at that point?” you asked, overwhelmed.

That would make sense, right? Make sure the senator didn’t get hurt by an angry soldier? Supersoldier, but whatever.

“Probably. Honestly though? He deserved that and a punch to his face on top. Please, finish it, madam. It’s just few more seconds.”

The respectful ‘madam’ sounded incredibly out of place as he was being brutally and possibly unprofessionally honest. You obediently resumed the video, eyes still wide.

“Well. Now that we established that Senator Brendon is an obnoxious ass,” Tony hummed, his voice carrying a surprisingly sharp edge, making your jaw fell lower.

What the hell was he doing speaking like that to a senator?! Also, was he defending you? Tony Stark, who seemed to never run out of double entendre when you were around, always poking your intimate relationship with Steve? Colour you impressed and shocked once more.

“Can we send Agent Morales to drive Captain Rogers’ very respectable woman for their date and then finish the meeting real quick so we can go separate ways? Cap, let go of him, please. He needs that hand to sign a lot useless papers.”

Tony Stark just became your best friend. And you started hating politicians more than you had until now, but that was beside the point.

“Good plan, Stark,” the eye patch man stated calmly, eyeing Steve who was still literally breathing at Senator Brendon’s neck. “Captain?”

Steve reluctantly released the man, watching him like a hawk. You tried to hold back the smile at him defending your honour, but it was really hard.

“Let’s get this over with. Agent Morales?”

“At your service, Captain.”

Steve wrote down something for him then – your address, you presumed, as well as the point of meeting – and told him to show you his driving licence. You looked up and met the agent’s smile at that.

The last words before the video ended were from Tony.

“Agent Morales? Jarvis will send something to your phone to entertain Cap’s lady when you’re driving her. Be so kind and treat her with respect unlike some people in this room who didn’t seem to move on from pre-historic view on female population. She’s a good and brilliant woman.”

The agent in the footage nodded as Tony did something on his phone and then the screen went black.

You had to fight tears now, silently staring at the phone.

“Sorry about hearing Senator Brendon. But I think the rest was quite spectacular, wouldn’t you say, madam?”

You choked on a laugh, too many emotions swirling in you.

“Yeah. I’d say.”

You wondered what you should give Tony for being such an incredibly kind advocate for you; given the fact he could have everything in the world with the billions he had on his account, you decided you would just had to settle for a hug.

As for Steve…. well. You weren’t sure if it was wise to bring it up in the first place. You decided to act after you’d see his mood; you definitely wanted to show gratitude though.

The rest of the drive was spent in silent awe.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 2

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This was supposed to be ‘the First Time’ fic, mostly plotless smut. Somehow, there are like… things happening? Oops.

Still, the fic is spectacularly self-indulgent. You’re welcome? :D

P.S. – Feedback always appreciated.

Love, AA

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #soulmate au #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers soulmate #captain america soulmate #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #if you stumble #anika ann

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spine-buster · 5 years

Text

Alone, Together | Chapter 16 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Welp, this story isn’t showing up in the morgan rielly tag anymore even though it’s my first tag in the list. Anyone know a possible reason?

I’m still on a high from the Raptors parade today. Enjoy.

Bee had her outfit laid out on the chair in Morgan’s room, but she ignored it while she lied in bed with him and felt his fingers move in and out of her lazily, making her squirm for how sensitive she was getting but also making her mad for how slowly he was taking this. They faced each other in the bed, her leg hooked over his, and he was holding her in his free arm; so soft and so gentle but also biting down on her skin and licking at her breasts and telling her what a good girl she was being as she kept trying to grind harder on his hand between her legs, only for him to pull away momentarily or go even slower which would drive her fucking insane.

She still needed to take a shower. She still needed to style her hair and do her makeup. Her winged eyeliner alone took her like ten minutes. But here she was. Morgan was fingering her in his bed, and there was no way she was going to leave.

They were definitely going to be late to Auston’s New Year’s Eve party.

When he got back from his Christmas break in Vancouver and from the road game they played in Columbus, he seemingly couldn’t keep his hands off her. She didn’t know what it was or what had gotten into him, but the second he arrived back in the city he’d called her, and by the first two minutes she was over his apartment, he’d pinned her against his door and was in her. Literally. The following night, after an upsetting loss to the Islanders at Scotiabank Arena, they went back to her place and engaged in four or five different rounds of sex throughout the night. Yesterday, though she was out a majority of the day with Angie, she kept getting messages from him explaining what he wanted to do to her that night. When she got home, he ate her out like she was the last meal on earth, until she felt like she was going to have a heart attack, which was apparently common for her now. Even then, he let her relax for a bit until he went for a round two.

Everybody enjoyed good sex. Everybody. And when it becomes so available, nobody really passes on the opportunity. Including her. She loved feeling good, and she loved that he was the one able to make her feel so good, because he was a damn good lover, and a very generous one at that (she was generous too, let’s not get the story wrong here), but she wondered where all of this was coming from. He told her he was just making up for lost time, but they had only been apart from each other for five days. They’d been apart from each other longer, even just recently, and he hadn’t acted this way when he came back.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he whispered, curling his fingers in her and making her whimper loudly. They’d resumed much of their dirty talk, too, after they had explored it before Christmas. It was a staple now. She couldn’t believe how much it turned her on and added to the whole experience. “You like when I touch you like this, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she nodded her head. “You always make me feel so good Morgan.”

He slipped another finger into her, and she writhed at the sensation of his fingers curling in her, hitting the spot she so desperately needed to hit. He smiled and bit his lip. “So good for me baby. So wet. So fucking wet.” He lowered his head to kiss and bite at her neck. He looked down to her boobs spilling out of her blush pink bra and curled his fingers again, making her grind onto his hand.

“I’m so close Mo,” she said desperately. “Please. Go faster. Go harder.”

“No,” he denied her. “We’re gonna take it nice and slow.”

“Morgan.”

“Nice and slow,” he repeated, taking his fingers almost fully out of her as punishment, garnering another whimper from her. He pushed them back in at an excruciatingly slow pace, and she wanted to kill him.

“Morgan, please,” she was frantic. “I want to come so bad.”

“Nice and slow,” he repeated, and she could only toss her head back and moan at his insistency before accepting her fate.

She didn’t know how long they were lying there for, but when he slipped in yet another finger, and curled them all against her walls, it all became too much for her, and soon, she was completely gone. Her orgasm washed over her, slow and powerful as it made its way throughout her whole body, and she was shaking from the sheer intensity of it. She closed her thighs around his hand as he continued his movements, letting her ride it out for as long as possible. He finally stopped when her body stopped shaking, and he took the opportunity to bring the hand that was buried in her up to his mouth. They stared at each other as he sucked his fingers, loving the taste of her.

“Fuck,” she muttered, barely waiting for her fingers to leave his mouth before she crashed her lips onto his, desperate to taste it too. He made her fucking crazy. Her body was a puddle off goo from her orgasm but he continued to find ways, the simplest of ways, to get her hot and bothered. “You are a fucking gift, Morgan Rielly.”

“Hmm, so are you,” he mumbled in between kissing, trying to pull her body on top of him. “The things I would do to you. God. Get up here.”

“Moooo,” she whined. It was taking everything in her not to give in. “I’ve gotta shower.”

“Shower? For what?”

“For Auston’s party, dummy.”

“Ugh, whatever,” he groaned. “Do we have to go? We have much better things we could be doing.”

Bee snorted. “Yes we have to go. He’s your friend – our friend – and he’s expecting us to be there. I even made cupcakes.”

He groaned again, moving to lie down on his back since he knew he wasn’t going to win. “Why do you have to be such a good person?”

She shook her head at his question. “That must be the horny talking. If I get anymore action after what’s been going on these past couple of days they’re gonna have to put ‘Death by Morgan Rielly’s dick’ on my gravestone.”

It was his turn to snort. “Well what do you expect when you have a nice pink bra like that on?” he asked rhetorically.

She looked down quickly at her bra. Blush coloured, satin with some lace. Expensive, of course; or at least more than what she had previously paid for her bras. It fit well, cupped her breasts perfectly, didn’t tug at her skin or give her indents. The straps didn’t fall down her arms like they usually did. She unclasped her bra and threw it at him, garnering a smile as it landed on his chest. She gave him a wink before turning and walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower. In the full-length mirror in the washroom, she looked at her body until the mirror began to fog. She saw her tummy a little fuller thanks to Christmas; she saw her hips and thighs, wide as ever; she saw her arms lead up to her shoulders, now peppered with love bites.

Morgan had never mentioned anything about bras or panties or lingerie before she went on her shopping spree with the girls. But now, with all the new satin and lace and bodysuits and baby dolls (though he’d only really seen the bodysuit in terms of lingerie), he couldn’t keep his hands off her. He’d comment on the colour, the material, how good it made her boobs look, how good it made her ass look. While she obviously enjoyed the compliments, and the hunger derived from it, she wondered if he thought these things before all the satin and lace. Before the bodysuits and baby dolls. Before the nice clothes and Chanel bags.

Morgan never once made her feel self-conscious about her body – in fact, it was the exact opposite – but she still couldn’t help but feel so. She knew he was attracted to her in every way. But did he like her better when she looked more put together, more sophisticated, like the other wives and girlfriends? Did he like her better with her new hair, the makeup, the nice shoes and designer bags? He’d always compliment on how good a pair of jeans fit her, or how her boobs looked in a top. If she went back to the basic tops and pants, and outfits that she wore only weeks ago, would he still be attracted to her? Could she still be with him? Could she still be comfortable with him, knowing how much he seemed to love her new look? Would he be comfortable with her going back to that look? Or would he be embarrassed?

She stepped out of the shower, wrapping her hair in a towel before throwing on one of his bathrobes. When she emerged, all the steam from the hot water escaping with her, she found Morgan still on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked over at her and gave her a smile. Her shower thoughts were still on her mind as she gave him a small smile back, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge. She felt him move so that he was on his knees behind her.

“I have a question for you,” he said in a low voice, placing a quick kiss on the exposed skin between the bathrobe and the towel wrapped around her head.

“No, we cannot skip Auston’s party,” she answered.

He let out a small chuckle. “No no, not that. Um, on January 21st the team has this big fundraiser at the Fairmont Royal York. It’s called the Night With Blue and White,” he explained. “It’s the biggest charity event we do. All the proceeds to go the MLSE Launchpad. It’s, like, $10,000 a table, and Rogers and all these other companies sponsor it.”

“And?”

“And it’s a gala event. And I’d like it if you can be there with me. So will you come?”

She couldn’t help but smile. His tone was so serious, so hesitant; as if he was worried she would say no. As if she’d say no. “Of course I’ll come. You want me there?”

“Of course I do,” he said gently, unwrapping the towel from her head to let her wet hair cascade down, giving her another kiss in the same spot between her shoulder and neck.

She thought about the event, how many rich and important people would be there mingling and donating obscene amounts of money for the cause. She thought about the glamour of it all, of all the women in high heels and expensive dresses, the men in dapper suits and pockets as deep as their company’s chequebook. She thought about the historic venue, the flashing lights, the catered food and the deluxe bar.

She thought about what she’d have to wear. How much she’d have to get done up. Going out to buy a fancy dress. Going to get her hair done.

“I already know you’re going to look so good that night,” he said, dragging his lips along the skin on her neck. “You’ll knock ‘em all dead.”

She hesitated, her thoughts giving her so much anxiety. “Morgan?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you like me more with all the nice clothes?”

Morgan stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t believe she could be thinking something like that, so…so untrue, so incorrect and so mistaken and so fallacious. His stomach was in knots as the words hung heavy in the air. He didn’t know how to express his thoughts. Words were a foreign concept to him. “Briony…I…what?”

“You know what, it’s alright,” she said hurriedly. “Forget I asked. Forget it.”

He wasn’t going to let this one go. There was no fucking way he was going to let this one go. “No no no, hold on,” he said, practically jumping off the bed to kneel in front of her. She wouldn’t even look at him. “Briony. Look at me.”

“No. Just forget it.”

“Briony,” he said sternly. Her eyes met his and they were already welling up with tears – he didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or sadness or whatever else. “What do you mean ‘Do you like me more with all nice clothes’?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Have I not been showing you enough how much I love your body?” he asked.

She shook her head vehemently. “It’s not that. I know that you love my body.”

“Then what is it?”

“ Do you only love my body when it has nice clothes on it?”

“Briony, no,” he said firmly, the whole concept completely absurd to him.

“Because I’ve noticed…I don’t know. You haven’t been able to keep your hands off me since I got all the nice stuff. And I’m not complaining about you not being able to keep your hands off me, because you know I would never complain about that, but I can’t help but feel like ever since I started dressing nicer there’s been this…change.”

“What change?”

“That you’re, like…” she was scared to say the next part. But she knew that if she didn’t get it off her chest it would be on her mind forever. She didn’t want to start the New Year with these types of thoughts. “You’re more attracted to me because I look better now. Because I don’t look so cheap and so poor and this is some sort of new Briony that doesn’t look like the old Briony and you like the new Briony much better, even though the old Briony, like, the character of Briony, is still the same despite all the designer clothes.”

He felt sick to his stomach that she was feeling this way and hadn’t told him up until now. Absolutely sick to his fucking stomach. “Briony, it’s not like that at all,” he stressed. “To me, there’s no old Briony and new Briony. There’s just Briony. I don’t…I…there’s no distinction to me. You’re the same Briony but with new clothes. But those new clothes don’t matter. I don’t care if you wear head to toe Gucci or not. You can wear a burlap sac for all I care. I’d still…I’d never, never --”

“You’re always saying how good I look, how good my boobs or my butt looks, and it’s nice, but I don’t know if --”

“I say those things because I want you to feel confident about yourself!” he exclaimed. “I know you’re still getting used to all this. I just want you to feel comfortable after you felt so violated from the break and enter. I can’t believe you would feel like this and not tell me. Bumblebee, I don’t care what you look like. I don’t care. That’s not important to me,” he was so desperate to get his point across he was almost on the verge of tears.

She sniffled, holding back any more tears she had as much as possible. “You don’t?”

“No, Briony. No. God,” he muttered under his breath. “Briony, you have no idea. You have no idea how much I feel like the luckiest guy in the room by just standing beside you.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay…okay…”

“The only thing I care about is you feeling good about yourself, and it doesn’t matter what you wear to make you feel that way” he said. “And if there’s anything that I can do to help with that, you need to tell me, because I’d rather fucking die than make you feel uncomfortable or have you think I only like you when you look a certain way.”

She nodded her head. She understood now. She got it. “Okay,” she said softly, nodding her head.

“Briony, I’m serious. You need to tell me these things. I don’t like that you think I’m only attracted to you because of the clothes on your body. That cannot be further from the truth,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Just…talk to me, okay? Don’t bottle this stuff in. There are a million things that are loveable about you and none of them have to do with the way you look.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I won’t.”

He learned forward and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t let go. Not until she felt what he had just been trying to tell her; not until she knew he meant every word of what he just said, and would keep saying it to her until she knew he meant it.

***

“You guys are late,” Auston said as Morgan and Briony walked through his door. He was already, maybe, a little bit drunk, but he was in the privacy of his own home so he really didn’t care.

“Is it past midnight?” Morgan asked.

“No.”

“Then we’re not late,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Wow.”

“We had an emergency with the cupcakes,” Briony lied, holding them up for Auston to see.

“Cupcakes? You made cupcakes?”

“Only for you, Auston,” she winked, showing him the intricately decorated confectionery.

His eyes went wide as he admired the icing and decoration. He looked at Briony like she had just presented him with a golden compass. “Are you sure you don’t have a sister I can hook up with? Are you positive?”

“Even if I did I wouldn’t let her date you,” she took the cupcakes away from him.

“That hurts.”

Before Bee could respond, a loud ‘Auston!’ was heard from somewhere inside the condo, and Morgan, Bee, and Auston watched as a blonde girl waved at him, motioning for him to come back to his dining room table, where he had set up beer pong. Bee couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure you’ll get over it soon.”

As Auston went back to his lady friend, Bee and Morgan made their way into the apartment, finding Fred, Tyler, Zach and Alannah, and John and Aryne. Travis Dermott and his girlfriend brought her friends, Kasperi Kapanen was with a lady friend who happened to bring her friends, and Mitch Marner and Steph were there, surrounded by a few of her friends. Overall, it was a pretty full party, and Bee immediately found comfort and solace with Aryne and Alannah.

“Giiiiirl! That bag looks so good,” Aryne hugged her tightly, grabbing the Chanel bag in both hands. “I should have gotten one for myself.”

“You can’t. This is Bee’s bag now,” Alannah laughed as she moved to hug Bee as well. “How’ve you been? How’s the new place?”

“Oh, it’s great,” Bee smiled. “Views are amazing, building’s amazing…I mean compared to what I had, this place is off the charts.”

“I know you’re busy trying to find a job, but we should all have a girl’s night soon,” Alannah suggested. “I can bring over a stack of wedding magazines. Lord knows I need to start making some choices.”

“Don’t say that too loud,” Aryne rolled her eyes a bit, discreetly nodding over to the sexy, longhaired bleach blonde standing next to Kasperi who was sipping on a tallboy. She was very, very attractive, and Bee could understand why she was Kasperi’s current flavour. “Cassidy might overhear and invite herself.”

“Are we…are we not…” Bee was a bit confused.

“She’s been on her phone more than she’s talked to Kappy tonight,” Alannah said. “She pretended to act dumb but she definitely knows who everybody in this room is. I don’t get a good vibe from her.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Bee asked. “Knowing everybody here, I mean? Wouldn’t you rather have it that way?”

“Not the way that she knows everybody,” Aryne said. “You know how you know everybody as just, like, Zach or John or Fred or whatever? You don’t care? She knows and sees people as Zach Hyman of the Toronto Maple Leafs, John Tavares of the Toronto Maple Leafs, Frederik Andersen of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” she explained. “It’s all about status to her. She knows she’s at a party at Auston Matthews’s apartment with a bunch of Leafs players. She’s probably putting it all over her Snapchat or Instagram stories, pretending to be discreet about it, but really showing off where she is and who she’s with. Girls like that are all the same.”

“Fame hungry?” Bee clarified.

“Exactly. Just waiting for someone to pick up on it and start talking about them so their name gets out there. I bet she’s an Instagram model or has her own YouTube channel where she models bikinis she gets sent from FashionNova. They’re all the same.”

“Aryne!” Alannah giggled. “Tell me what’s really on your mind why don’t you!”

“Listen. My New Year’s resolution is to try to be less judgemental as a whole but for girls like that, I can’t help it,” Aryne giggled slightly. “They’re so transparent it’s almost comical. And it’s always the young guys who fall for them.”

“Anyways,” Alannah put an end to the conversation with just one word. She didn’t want to be talking about girlfriends of the month the whole night. “Has Morgan told you about the Night with Blue and White?” she asked.

Bee blushed. “Uh, yeah. He actually asked me tonight.”

“And you’re coming?” Aryne asked. Bee nodded her head. “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeep!” Aryne squealed loudly. “Oh my God this is gonna be so fun! We’re going to need to go shopping for dresses! And shoes!”

“It’s honestly such a fun night,” Alannah smiled. “We’re going to have a blast. You get to meet so many people. It’ll actually be so good for you considering you’re on the job hunt.”

Bee hadn’t even considered that. She hadn’t considered that it could be a great opportunity for her, rather than just some event put on by the Leafs that she would accompany Morgan to. She never considered that she would be mingling with people who could hire her. Now she really wanted to go. Of course she’d be there primarily to support Morgan, but it didn’t hurt that she’d be able to try and land a job interview. “That’s actually a great point…” she said.

“I’m a smart girl,” Alannah winked.

***

“Somebody get the champagne ready!”

“Pour it out! Pour it out!”

“Save some to pop!”

Morgan was drunk. The smiley kind of drunk. The kind of drunk where all he wanted to do was put his hands on Bee’s ass and keep them there. But he still had some semblance of a conscience – he knew that in public spaces that was frowned upon, especially in front of friends, so he tried his hardest to rid the thoughts from his mind as some more sober members of the group (Zach, Fred) poured the champagne into plastic flutes for the entire party.

It was a little over five minutes until the countdown, and everybody was getting excited. Morgan couldn’t remember how much alcohol he drank. It was a lot. What he could remember was talking to Zach about how much he liked Bee, how he wanted to take her back home to Vancouver so bad, how he loved the smell of her hair and waking up with his face buried in it in the morning. Zach could only laugh, as he was the sober one being designated driver, and he kept commenting how bad Morgan had it for her, and Morgan could only nod and drink more beer and talk more about how much he liked her before he moved on to Fred and told him the exact same thing. Now, with the countdown soon approaching, everybody began to pair up with their significant others.

“Mo gets his own bottle of champagne!” Auston yelled, handing him a bottle, to which everybody cheered at. Morgan took the bottle, noticing the cork was already half out. He didn’t want to hold on to it without holding on to Bee. He looked around the room for her.

Bee was standing next to Aryne, who was smoothing down her husband’s shirt, looking down at her phone. She hadn’t noticed Morgan looking for her because she was too busy reading a barrage of messages that had made their way to her Instagram inbox.

lmao i bet morgan bought u that chanel bag. doesn’t that mean he’s ur sugar daddy??? ur pathetic

now u think ur hot shit always wearing that chanel bag everywhere

You wear that Chanel bag everywhere now bc you want everyone to know Morgan bought it for you. You reek of desperation. Don’t think we didn’t know it was you in Sephora just bc the pic was blurry.

don’t think we don’t see u in cassidy’s videos from the party. ur prob begging her to include u. ur literally so desperate its insane

no clue what morgan sees in you. you’re not as pretty as any of the other wags and you don’t fit in either. you prob won’t last long.

Yet again ur at a party w the leafs but decide not to post pics or videos, making other ppl like kappy’s girl post them with u in them. Ur not very smart r u? the game ur playing is dumb.

Bee felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, and looked up to see Morgan, a drunken grin plastered on his face. He was clutching an entire bottle of champagne. She locked her phone screen immediately. She knew just by looking at him that he was too drunk to read, but she didn’t want to take the chance of him seeing the messages. “Hello, stranger,” she smiled.

“Hey sexy,” he tried to wink, but just ended up blinking really hard. She snorted at his attempt. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“How drunk are you?” she asked.

“I’m…” he couldn’t find the right words. “I’m right on it. Right on the line.”

“And why do you have an entire bottle of champagne?”

“Matts wanted me to have it,” he said, bringing it up to her lips, pretending to pour it. “For the countdown. Are you gonna countdown with me?”

“Of course I am,” she smiled.

As they made their way near the front of the TV, which was showing the live broadcast from Nathan Phillips Square in downtown Toronto – 90 seconds to go! – Morgan’s arm was still draped around Bee’s shoulders. Bee wrapped an arm around his waist to try and steady his drunken rocking form side to side. When she did so, he bent his head down to kiss her temple. “I know I’m piss drunk right now but can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” she said quietly.

Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!

“Every fuckin’ day I thank my lucky stars that someone sent a drink to your table pretending to be me,” he mumbled. The hair on the back of Bee’s neck stood on end. “Every. Fuckin’. Day. Like, you don’t even understand Briony. Everyday.”

It was at that moment that Bee realized that it didn’t matter what anonymous messages she received, what they had to say, or how they said things about her. What mattered – besides her privacy, her integrity, and her humility – was that Morgan was standing next to her, arm draped around her, bottle of champagne in his hand. It didn’t matter that they thought she was fat, that they thought she was tacky, an attention-seeker, desperate, didn’t fit in, whatever else – what mattered was that she was with Morgan. They weren’t. As petty as that sounded, it was her standing next to him, her who shared a bed with him, her who he called before every game.

Ten! Nine! Eight!

It was her who got to kiss him at midnight.

Seven! Six! Five!

“I thank my lucky stars you sent a drink to my table,” she smiled. This would be their ongoing joke; her saying he sent a mojito to her table, him maintaining it wasn’t him and that she got pranked. She’d never let him live it down.

Four! Three! Two! One!

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” the entire party yelled in unison, and Morgan took the opportunity to wrap Bee further into his body with the arm that was around her shoulders before he bent his neck to place a giant kiss on her lips. She reciprocated until she felt him start to shake the champagne bottle. She pulled away so he could pop it quickly, causing another cheer from the crowd before he brought the oozing fizz to his lips. Ever the gentleman, he gave Bee a swig before kissing her again, both of them tasting like champagne. They kissed for much longer this time, Morgan not willing to pull away, and Bee not willing to deny him, even in his drunken state, even though she was sure all the other couples had stopped.

When they finally did pull away, Bee looked around quickly to see some other couples. John was cradling Aryne’s baby bump, and Bee thought she was going to cry right then and there; Zach was still macking on Alannah, who didn’t seem to mind; and Cassidy, right beside them, was recording Kappy making a smoochie face against hers. It was all very cute.

“You want s’more champagne?” Morgan asked.

Bee shook her head. She brought her hand up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss her again.

***

Morgan sobered up a bit by the time they decided to call it a night. He stuck to water and was well enough to walk on his own by 2am. Bee had watched over him like a hawk, making sure he was drinking glass after glass of water. She wasn’t exactly capable of hauling a 200+ pound hockey player home.

Although the party had died down significantly – John and Aryne had left not long after the countdown, as had some others – there were still people hanging about. Auston was plastered. Fred and Tyler were sleeping over, thankfully, and Fred had already begun the clean up, like the responsible adult he was.

“We should say goodbye to Auston, at least,” Morgan said when he finished slipping on his shoes. Bee nodded her head and they wandered through his apartment hand in hand to find him.

It didn’t take long. The second Bee saw Auston, she snorted out in laughter. He had her homemade cupcakes in front of him, one in his hand, and he was completely going to town on it. Completely going to town. There was icing all over his face, all over his nose, and he opened his jaw as much as possible to get the entire height of the cupcake and all the icing in his mouth at once. It was hilarious. He looked like a kid.

She took out her phone and took a few pictures of him, and he didn’t even notice. She even took the opportunity to take a video. After he finished the cupcake, he didn’t even hesitate to grab another one and peel off the wrapping paper. The video was shaking for how hard she was laughing. “You having a good time there, Matts?” Bee asked. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

When he noticed them, he didn’t even care. He took a massive bite out of the cupcake, getting more icing all over his face and nose. “Bee…fuck,” he moaned.

“That your new girl Matts?” Morgan joked. Auston nodded his head. Morgan snorted. At that point, she ended the video, knowing she had good blackmail against him now. Auston was completely gone. “Night buddy. Don’t forget to wrap it up if you’re gona eat her. Things can get out of hand easily.”

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fic #alone together series

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hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

Just put on the movie

And there we go. The dedication is there.

Oh god the rapping.

My palms will be bloody by the time this is over.

But I like the parallels to the first movie

To much auto tune

There goes my heart Disney.

Oh lord that’s high

Bbys. Smee twins

WHY WASNT DIZZY THERE FROM FILM TWO

There’s my child Celia

MY BOY!!!!

I mean Mal has a point.

He thinks it through

I love him so fucking much

Loving Doug’s hair

Rat bastard. Rat bitch. Rat fairy (Adam belle Verna)

Fuck off leah chad Audrey

😍😍😍😍. This version is better then d1

SUCK IT PASTEL COW

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Oh Evie love. Just tell him you love him

FUCK OFF YOU GERIATRIC BITCH

YES WE WOULD PREFER MAL TO YOU YA BITCH

I hate you Adam and belle

Ben and the other three are adorable family

Still hating Audrey. So. Fucking. Much

Love the purple limo

WHY IS TREMAINE NICE. IT MAKES NO SENSE

Bal parent vibes are strong

They shoulda painted the limo roof purple

Dying of cuteness

Proud fiancé Mal. Love it

Fuck off leah

Here’s papa hades. And the ham.

DRAGON MAL. WHOO HOO

Ah well. Nice while it lasted

NOT HER JOB PASTEL COW

So. Much. Ham.

Poor girl. Ouch.

🤮🤮🤮🤮. I still hate her and her geriatric bitch of a grandmother

Oh bitch please. First words out of your mouth were creel. And it ain’t abated

I’m supposed to be sorry for this sad act? I don’t think so

So. Much. Rapping

Oh. SPARE ME WOMAN

Still theft. Throw her on the isle with her grandmother

Lonely and friendless. Because Mal is so much better then you ya limp noodle

Gotta be bad on the back

YOU DESERVE A SLAP AROUND THE FACE YOU SPOILED BRAT

Seriously though. The actual singing is better then the rapping. So gotta give satah her dues

Fuck off grown ups.

YOU PUT THEN THERE IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACD

Blue bitch. Just like always belle

Ok. People. You can see it’s hurting bal to do this. KILL THE BEAST

DONT CRY BABY BOY. PLEASE. LAST TIME ALMOST KILLED ME

Murder. The fucking. Parents

Evie. Evie’s sensible. Listen to your sister Mal.

And here comes the guilt. Like always. The narrative blames Mal

That darn cake

Ah. Pain. Hug them now

And jump scare

Oh god. Shut up Audrey. You’re a sore loser

Eh. The prosthesis look ok

Audrey. Nutter. Ben was more then ready to start the honeymoon when Mal was a dragon. Do you really think a hag would stop him?

😂😂😂😂

Oh boy

That’s a lie and you know it bluey.

At least the bikes have an explanation

Why the red for Evie though

And the mutt speaks

Fuck off Chad. I hate you so much

This bitch again

So shrieky.

Kiss ass

Real original

Jump Jane jump!

So many neck cricks

No one tells him anything

Cella’s right Mal

Overly long gag. But cute

Awww 🥰🥰🥰🥰. At least he’s a good dad

Nice reference

And the fear mongering begins.

And here’s the cryptid. He shoulda died in it’s going down

Psycho bitch pirate whore

Cella’s a troll and I love it

The vehicle needs an oil change

At least he’s sleeping. Though that position can not be comfortable

At long last the reveal.

He’s funny. And hot. (I can see where @mochacake2016 is coming from)

We know! We know

And here’s the music

😂😂😂😂.

He’s got a point

Ok.

THERES NO PHONES ON THE ISLAND QUEEN MAL

She actually sounds like jade west here

So far. Besides the proposal. This is my favourite song. Mostly for Hades great looks. Great voice

And the tambourine

Would be better with purple and blue fire effects. But no. We can’t have nice things. They spent the budget on pirate whores make up

She’s got a point. They both do

LISTEN TO HIM

Proud papa

C’mon girl. Cry

Of course she told her sister

He’s a good king.

T-shirt should be ripped.

🤮🤮🤮🤮. Hate her so much

And. Here. We. Go.

Benny. I love you. But did you not hear what she said to Evie when you first met the vks. Of course not. You were lost in Mal’s eyes.

Oh god. PLEASE SOMEBODY GO AND MELT HER

Whore man is probably skunk drunk. Gil’s cute as ever though

Throw hook in the water. And keep it there.

🎶she’s back🎶

And there screwed

He makes feel physically sick

Uma. I love ya. But honestly. Mal owes no one anything. It’s not her job.

No it ain’t

Jay’s got a point

Oh honey

Hook. In the words of the irreverent Captain Jack Sparrow “if the bikes be crashed properly. You be crashed along with it”. Not you Gil. I like you

Mother hen strikes again. Uma ain’t buying what she’s selling

Pure child Celia. (I don’t use this very much but) Gil’s babey (it feels wrong to type£

Chicken arms. No brains. No wit. No dance skills. No rapping skills. Ya basically a walking corpse hook

The dogs giving me a nervous twitch.

I hate the pair of them so no. No sympathy for prince douche bag

Gil makes me cry so simply

Stab the pirate jay. Please. For all of us

Psycho bitch

I want. It. Dead. Brutally. Dead

And more music. If this weren’t Disney they coulda melted them yo pukes of goo and pour it down Harry’s throat.

Oh god

So she can’t count either. Just like her brother

Definitely cha cha slide.

Deep sigh

So much ham.

Here’s a funny idea. How about instead of a bloody pantomime. ACTUALLY FUCKING FIGHT YOU FECKERS

Synchronised armour dancing. That’s new

Oh for fuck sake

Ha ha. Save it for the sob story bitch

What’s next a kick line

Thank god I was wrong.

Hook should be suffocated under the armour right now. Put us out of our misery

Care bear alert

I had to have a flu jab today. And it weren’t as painful as every single nanosecond hooks on screen

Love the platonic affection (I hate the very concept of malvie. What did you expect?)

Mother alert

Don’t eat wild fruit honey

So cute. But so dumb

Oh. Phineas and Ferb reference

Awww babies.

Don’t you dare tell me Mal doesn’t care.

THEY FOUND DOUG

Uma’s so done with care bear bs

More singing. Yay(!)

Please. Remind me again exactly why this is a DCOM. Cause it honestly does not feel like it what with the backstory pirate whores entire existence and the choreography

How has evie not broken a leg in this number.

Believe me Mal and Uma. I feel your frustration they go together like peanut butter and chocolate spread. (Perfectly if you didn’t know)

Where is she going?

She knows how R&J ended right? Double suicide. Why the romanticism huh?

HE IS NOT A RAG DOLL! Though props to Zachary for not corpsing

How can you hate Doug. He’s adorable. Best straight couple ever

There’s ma boy. Rip Harry’s throyatvout plwae.

Ben’s always been hot. But this is definitely working for me.

Awww. Carlos helping his papa

Wet Ben. Yum

Awww. Janelos cuteness.

Love the beard. So good. 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Someone murder the man whore before I do.

He makes me wanna throw up. And I’m not physically capable of doing that

@rpsocsandcanonohmy. I get where you’re coming from. But I also get where Ben is coming from. Sunbeam did get him abducted. And man slut tried to feed him to sharks. So I do understand both points. Doesn’t mean you’re wrong though

JUST. EXPLAIN. HIS MIND IS BEAST ADDLED

Shoulda let Ben slash hooks throat jay. You’re slipping buddy

Mal’s eating crow

Hopefully he chad suffocates. Then she’s have done one thing that wasn’t completely worthlessly reprehensible

🎶feelings🎶

And it had to ruin it

Te-am work. As plankton says

Proud sister

Boys are back. (With dude and the mutt in tow)

YAAAAAAAAAY

I hate happy harry. But I do like happy Uma. Eh. Double edged sword

BAL THIRST. FINALLY

Shoulda gone with Janelos. Jarlos is from big time rush

Oh they’re so cute

Poor Doug.

DOUG AND GIL FRIENDSHIP.

So. Update. Might be like Mal. (Definitely loving Ben’s facial hair)

Yawning over chad. So pathetic

Her seat from him douchey mcuseless

Poor Janey

Cats outta the bag

Once again. I kinda understand all points. Yeah Mal shouldn’t have lied. But Uma didn’t really give her and choice. And Evie just kinda assumed. And no one really lets her explain anything.

Hooks still pathetic. Even hurt emotionally I still wanna punch his roger rabbit looking face (Sorry Roger)

Oh dear

Mal. Don’t apologise. You did what you felt you needed to do. And no gives you a chance to explain. Ever.

Yes. You needed to do what you could.

Excellent acting all around as usual

Evie. Look. I love you. Your favourite number seven. But WHY IS IT YOUR SISTERS JOB. WHY DOES EVERYONE MAKE IT MALS PROBLEM

Ha! Evie said it. She said family.

Oh fuck. Taken for granite

More singing.

Monster/story/invincible

I do want to stab Harry in the mouth with the hook

More flashback. Yay(.). Couldn’t they fill out the runtime

Flashbacks. TO THE START OF THE SO G THE FLASHBACK IS FROM. OH FOR FUCK SAKES

More dragon.

Audrey’s performance might make me a vegetarian

How is it not crushed by the claws?

Fire should be green

Yay. Auds dead. Please say yes?

The twins say literally one thing

From magical incantation to vaguely irritating verbal tick. Well alright then

Evie. Why do you sound so sad. It’s a good thing Audrey’s dying. The ultimate price and all that. You should be glad. It’s a good thing

Mal: he’s my father. Ben: shocked face. Me: makes a sound like a boiling kettle

Bye bye facial hair

Die slut

More eating crow

The in laws meet

Exactly hades. Exactly. Knee beast in the dick

God Ben’s so hot.

Bite Adam’s throat out please hades

Should’ve let Audrey waste away. And sent granny to Tartarus to meet her

OH SPARE ME YOUR BLEEDING HEART ROUTINE! I still hate you in a fundamental level

OH FINALLY YOU GERIATRIC BITCH

Nice little family moment

What the fuck is Evie’s dress?

Queen Mal has a very nice ring to it.

Sure you can. You owe them noting. You owe nobody anything

Jay has a pull back braid in his hair. Yay!

“Audrey would be gone”. You say it as though that’s a bad thing

“Insert woody woodpecker laugh”. Fuck you Adam

Compromise. Bring the vks over. And plop Adam Audrey chad anleah on the isle. Sink it into the ocean

Why didn’t Verna bring the barrier down. Oh yeah. Cause then she’d be useful

More singing

At least this takes place in daylight

I still hate harry

Push Harry in the drink please. IM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU

God I love Ben and Doug

Why the Charleston?

I still hate tremaine

Well. Jane. In ZM. You met Mal. She’s Carlos’s mother in this au

Giljay. It’s cute

So Harry makes me ill right upbto the end. Now he’s related to purple and blue

🎶a bitch is in the dog house🎶. And deservedly so

🤮🤮🤮🤮

Sweet little king

Oh boy

Whore has a turkey neck

This is the end. Good movie. With some unneeded bits. I’m gonna change a lot in ZM part three. And both dedications broke me.

#disney descendants #descendants 3 #anti harry x chad #anti harry x doug #anti harry x jane #harry x jay #anti harlos #anti malvie #anti haudrey #anti benrry #anti harry hook #anti audrey daughter of sleeping beauty #anti chad charming

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simplygojo · 5 years

Text

killer queen - chapter three

Series summary : Y/n, a native to London England, gets asked by the legend himself, Freddie Mercury, to help manage the band. Obviously she accepts, and it ends up being the best decision she’s ever made. Quickly she becomes close with each member of band, Roger Taylor specifically…

Chapter Summary : After spending the night at Roger’s flat, you go on a trip to Paris to visit your family.

Word Count : 2.1k

Pairings : Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader

Warnings : Swearing.

a/n - SO little update for anyone who cares! I just got strep throat, and I had it last week too. :/ If anyone knows any goo remedies for strep then pls tell me!!!

You woke up the next morning to Roger gently shaking you awake. “Morning sleeping beauty.” He said as you opened your eyes, squinting as you became familiar with your surroundings. Roger was holding a thermos that smelled of coffee. You looked up at him and closed one eye, tilting your head a bit. “Sorry I fell asleep.” You mumbled, causing Roger to laugh a bit. “It’s fine, but we gotta get going, one song left and four days to go.” He said as he flicked on the lights in the room, which resulted in you yanking the covers over your eyes. “Come on.” he said as he walked out of the room. You groaned loudly but dragged yourself out of bed. You decided not to change, you just grabbed the pair of sneakers you kept in your bag and put them on. You stumbled out to the sitting area, coffee in hand. Roger was standing at the front door, handing you the same jean jacket he gave you last night. “C’mon. I’ll drive.” He said as he opened the front door and gestured for you to go first. “Okay..” You yawned as you walked out the door, grabbing the blue jacket from his hands and draping it over your shoulders. Roger put his hand on the small of your back to guide you out the door before he locked and shut the door. The two of you got in the car, with Roger driving, and began to drive to the studio. “I’m so tired.” You complained to him as he drove. “Well good thing we didn’t follow my nights plan, you’d be even more exhausted.” he said as he looked over to you and winked. You playfully glared at him, “Eyes on the road Taylor.” you said, causing him to smirk and look back at the road. The two of you finally got to the studio, almost half an hour late. Roger opened the door for you and you walked in, immediately apologizing for being so late. “I am so sorry guys, I didn’t mean to sleep in so much, I was just exhausted for some unknown reason.” You said before sitting down on the couch and taking a sip of your coffee. The three boys were staring at you, as if they had seen a ghost. “What? What is it?” You asked, almost looking panicked. “Rog! Control room. Now.” Brian said in a frustrated tone. The four boys walked into the control room and John shut the door behind them. “Damn you, soundproof walls.” you muttered before taking another sip of coffee. Brian looked at Roger as soon as the door shut. “What the bloody hell did you do!?” he yelled in anger. Roger took a step back in confusion, “Woah mate calm down! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He countered, putting his hands up in the air in surrender. Freddie looked at Brian and then he continued. “She’s in your clothes Rog! You drove her here! She is exhausted for-” Brian put his hands up, preparing to use air quotes. “Some ‘unknown reason’?! You slept with her!” He yelled and Roger looked at him in disbelief. “Are you joking?!” he said. “Look we all know I wish I did, but she’s different. I didn’t I swear.” he said as he put one hand over his heart and one up in the air. John rolled his eyes, “Rog, she’s wearing your pants and your shirt. I wouldn't be surprised if she was in your boxers too.” He said and Roger glanced out the window at you and smirked. “What I wouldn’t give to see that…” He trailed off and Brian flicked his forehead. “Oi!” “Sorry, sorry…” Roger said and looked back at his three friends, “I didn’t sleep with her!” He said again, now getting a bit frustrated. Freddie looked at Roger with a confused look. “So she slept over at your house, is in your clothes, and you made her coffee in your thermos.” He said as he walked up to Roger. “Look Fred if you don’t believe me then-” “No. I believe you, but what stopped you?” Freddie asked him. “You said she was different. I for one, dear, would like to know what in god’s name that means.” Roger looked at Freddie like a deer in headlights. He didn’t say anything for at least two minutes. “She works with us.” He finally said just before walking out of the room and straight over to the drum kit. “What did they want?” You asked Roger, not getting up from your spot. “Just something stupid.” he muttered before he started drumming his sorrows away. The rest of the boys walked out of the room and exchanged some glances before they walked over to start playing as well. “Reid called us this morning.” John said, over the loud playing of Roger’s drums. “He got us on BBC!” He yelled. Once Roger heard those words he stopped playing. “On television?” He questioned. “That’s awesome!” You said, finally getting up from your seat and walking over to them. “Wait?! When? I don’t want to miss it.” You questioned as you tied your hair up into a ponytail. “Why would you be missing it darling?” Freddie asked as he adjusted his microphone. “Oh did I not tell you guys yet? I’m flying out to France tonight to visit my parents.” You told them and itched your head. “I swear I told you guys…” you mumbled to yourself until Brian spoke up. “This Sunday.” he said and you gave a relieved sigh. “Okay, I’ll be here for it.” You smiled as the boys continued to work with their instruments. Hours passed and they still hadn’t come up with anything. You looked at the clock and scrambled to your feet when you read the time. “Holy shit! I’m gonna be late!” You yelled as you grabbed your bag from the couch. “Wait, can one of you guys drive me to the airport? It’s only a ten minute drive from here.” You asked, no one responded and then Roger sighed and stood up. “I’ll do it.” “Good, and you can keep the keys to my car while I’m gone, as long as you promise to keep it safe.” You said as you dangled the car keys off your pointer finger. Roger’s face lit up and he swiftly snatched the keys from your hand. You stuck your tongue out at him, and waved bye to the boys. “I’ll be back Saturday morning! Make some music!” You yelled as you walked out the door, Roger hot on your trail. Roger hopped into the driver's seat of the car and turned it on. You threw your bag in the back seat and sat down in the passenger's seat. “You ready?” He asked you, and you nodded in response. “Hey Rog?” You began as you looked out the window. “Yeah?” he answered, keeping his eyes on the road. “Can you please just tell me what Brian was yelling at you over earlier today?” you asked, looking over at Roger, one hand on the steering wheel the other hand out the window, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His jaw clenched a bit. “They uh-” “And don’t you dare try lying to me Taylor, I know you too well.” You interrupted. “They thought that we had sex last night because you showed up in my clothes, I drove you, blah blah…” He said trailing off. You knew it. “No way! Well, we’re just friends.” You said still looking at Roger. He nodded in agreement. “Totally! Just friends, nothing more.” he added as he pulled up to the airport. You grabbed your bag from the back seat and looked at him. “Just friends.” You said, and he nodded again. “Yeah, and I would never have sex with you, because..” He trailed off as you stared into his eyes, you looked at him, as if you were dreading the upcoming answer. “Because we work together.” He said to you. You sighed and forced a smile. “Yeah, same.” You replied as you got out of the car. “Thanks for driving me Rog, I’ll see you on Saturday.” You said before giving him a little wave. “Don’t turn French on me now, y/l/n!” He yelled before doing a reckless U-turn and driving the other way. Once your plane landed, you put your small bag on your shoulder and waved down a taxi. Your dad taught you how to speak fluent French as a child, due to the fact that he himself is french. You asked the driver to take you to your parents house, and he obliged, taking you down the winding roads that lead there. Once you got there, you greeted your mom who answered the door, then your dad. You got settled into the musty guest room, put your bags onto the bed and opened up the window to let the warm summer air into the room. Later that night, you were having dinner with your parents, them asking about your life, you lying and telling them that you're still in law school. Then your mom began asking personal questions, which was odd because you never had a close relationship with either of your parents. “So y/n, any boys on your horizon?” She asked which caused your mind to drift back to yesterday night, you had spent at Roger’s flat. Sometimes you believed that he might want to have something more than your friendship, but other times you knew he could never like you like that. You broke out of your trance and looked up at your mother, “No. No boys.” You said then faked a smile. Back at home when Roger finally returned to the studio John walked up to him and put his hand on Roger’s shoulder. “Rog, we gotta talk.” He said, but Roger just shrugged his hand off and walked over to the drum kit. John and Brian looked at each other and then both nodded. “Look, Rog. It’s okay to have feelings for a girl.” Brian started, Roger just ignored them and began to play a beat on the drums. Freddie waltzed up to him and sighed. “And if you have feelings for y/n, then that’s fine. If you like her you-” Roger stood up and threw the stool he was sitting on across the room, it breaking into pieces. “I like every girl I see! I’m a playboy!” He yelled at them. “I don’t have feelings for anyone, and I can have any girl I bloody-well want!” He yelled again, steam practically spewing from his ears.

Four days had passed, you finished visiting your parents and had your own little day trip to Paris before heading home. The plane ride felt long, much longer than it actually was, because you were eager to get home to see your friends, especially Roger. Over the course of four days you had made the decision that when you saw Roger, you were going to tell him how you felt. You thought that you liked him, and you thought that maybe if the two of you hung out more than maybe, it could work. And god, you wanted it to work. Your plane finally landed and once you grabbed your baggage you walked outside and waited for Roger to come pick you up in your car. You waited for about an hour until it began to rain. “That bastard!” You said angrily before waving down a taxi, asking the driver to take you to the recording studio. At this point you were absolutely soaked, your hair dripping water just like the rest of you. You walked into the studio, a fuming look on your face as you spotted Roger. He looked almost angry at you as he rolled his eyes and looked away. You threw your bag on the ground and took off his now soaked blue jacket you were still wearing. “Roger Meddows Taylor!” You yelled as you walked up to him, anger seeping through your pores. You threw the wet jacket at him. “I was waiting for you! For one bloody hour!” You yelled as you crossed your arms over your chest. He shrugged, “Sorry, I forgot.” He said as he lit a cigarette and put it between his lips. You gave him and evil glare as you took a step closer to him so you were inches away from his face, you grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it in his half empty beer bottle. “Your a downright prick.” you whispered, not breaking eye contact with him as you spoke. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching your face for some sign of forgiveness, but you knew better. He swallowed and then took a step back from you, “You smell nice, is that new perfume?” He said as an attempt to change the subject. You let out a dry laugh and your hands fell to your sides. “It’s from Paris.” Was all you said before grabbing your car keys and leaving.

Series Taglist : @triggeredpossum @june-uk @toger-raylor @antoouu @ironicsecretfae @harrysniallpolish @s-e-l-e-c-t-i-v-e-listener @creativedogs @wvnhedas @rockyroadthepastryarchy @sweetdayme4427 @pietrorunsforme @coltonthekanima @anna1523 @fandomshit6000 @shutup-sorry @a-crowd-of-newsies

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rapsody movie #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #Queen #killer queen #softlyhardy #freddie mercury #john deacon #brian may #rami malek

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