#REALLY ROGER. stop playing with your food and eat indeed.

[widowshill]

random r/v moments: 132.

#i think he hauve covid. #[screams into the void] #liz is not perceiving it... she is looking AWAY .. .right into the bottom of that teacup. #➤ edits & art. ┊ the evans cottage art gallery. #gifs. #➤ roger collins & victoria winters. ┊ pain sometimes precedes pleasure，miss winters. #132. #all this on top of a conversation about david not liking runny eggs... ''stop playing with your food and eat'' #REALLY ROGER. stop playing with your food and eat indeed. #stop teasing / toying with your governess and eat h–[gunshot]

[jungwonenthusiast]

Friends Don't Lie Ch. 1

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Warnings for this chapter: underage drinking and smoking, mention of porn

Chapter word count: 2k

Based on: Stranger Things

Sunoo

“Can we play please?” Sunoo pleads, tugging at Sunghoon's sleeve.

“No, you’re not a baby.” he rolls his eyes.

“Who said d and d was for babies?” Sunoo scoffs and plops onto the couch.

“Everyone,” Jay says while trying on one of Jungwon’s jackets. “Even Niki doesn’t play anymore.”

Sunoo groans. “You guys are boring.”

“I’ll play with you.” Jake ruffles his hair.

“We need at least four people.” he whines.

“You guys play, we’re gonna go to the drive-in.” Niki says.

“And do what? Makeout with people and get gonorrhea?”

“That’s not how STDs work, dumbass.” Jay laughs.

“Whatever,” Sunoo rolls his eyes again.

“It’ll be fun man, just come with us.” Jungwon grabs at his arm. “Plus you like scary movies.”

“It’s Videorome, isn’t that movie about porn?” Sunoo frowns.

“Just come,” Jungwon begs. “I’m gonna be the only one without a chick, you have to keep me company.”

“I’m just gonna go home, Heeseung hyung will be mad if I stay out.” Sunoo stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“You gonna bike home?” Jake asks while spritzing cologne on his neck.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Sunoo says while making his way up the basement stairs.

“See you.”

“Bye Ddeonu.” Jay teases.

Sunoo walks by Mrs. Yang who’s cleaning up the kitchen.

“Bye Mrs. Yang, thank you for dinner, it was delicious.” he smiles at her.

“Of course Sunoo-shi, are you going home now? I thought you boys were going to the drive in?”

He shrugs. “Yeah but I figured I should go home so that my hyung doesn’t worry.”

She smiles and pats his head. “Such a sweet boy, tell him I said hi alright?”

He nods and heads out the door.

It’s pitch black out and the air feels dry.

Sunoo mounts his bike and starts to peddle home, but something moving in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

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Jungwon

Jungwon feels bad. He hates feeling this way. It’s eating at his conscience.

“Why are you guys so mean to Sunoo?” Jungwon says while steering his Camaro.

“What are you talking about?” Jay lights a cigarette and Jungwon slaps it out of his hand.

“Don’t smoke in here, my mom will kill me.” he scolds.

Jay rolls his eyes and throws it out the window.

“It’s just our way of showing affection.” Sunghoon says with Niki sitting on his lap. The car doesn’t have nearly enough seats to fit all of them, but they make it work.

“You need help if you think that’s what affection is.” Jungwon grumbles.

Jake shakes his shoulder. “Loosen up Jungwon, he knows we love him.”

“I hope.” he replies.

Jungwon always wishes he could be nicer to Sunoo. Everytime he sees him he thinks, I should compliment Sunoo or tell him that I appreciate him. But he never does and he hates himself for it.

Jungwon parks in their usual spot.

“I’m gonna go try to con us some beers.” Jay says before hopping out the car.

“Don’t get arrested.” Sunghoon jokes.

Jake rolls down the window to chat with the girls next to them.

Jungwon slumps into his seat. Something feels wrong. They go to the drive in all the time, but something feels off. Everything feels, sounds, and smells the same. But there’s a tinge of pain in Jungwon’s heart. Maybe Jay’s cigs are starting to get to me, he thinks, but he knows that he’s lying to himself.

“Can you just go to her car?” Sunghoon groans. “We exist too you know?”

“Fine,” Jake opens to car door and merrily makes his way to her Ford.

Jay comes jogging up to the car with two cans of beer in each hand. “I am incredible.”

“Indeed you are.” Sunghoon reaches out for one. Niki does too but Jay pulls his hand away.

“No way man.” Jay chuckles and Niki groans.

“I’m literally taller than you.”

“And I weigh more,” Jay says. “No beer until you’re seventeen.”

Jay hands Jungwon a can and he reluctantly cracks it open. He never liked beer but he figured he needed it today.

He lets the bitter substance go down his throat. He holds his breath before swallowing so that he can’t taste it.

Jungwon watches the movie in a daze. The alcohol has gone to his head and everything feels calmer despite the gore being displayed on the screen.

“Shit, it’s eleven thirty.” Jake says. “I’ll drive us home, you’re all too drunk.”

“I can drive.” Jungwon insists.

“No you can’t.” Jake pulls him up by the arms and guides him to the backseat.

Jungwon rests his head on his hand as Jake drops everyone off.

“Alright get up Won, we’re here.” Jake parks the Camaro in the driveway.

“I’m tired.” Jungwon whines and gets up sluggishly.

“You’re such a lightweight.” Jake chuckles and helps him to the door. “Get to your room before your parents see you.”

“Roger that.” Jungwon mumbles and tries to sober up before heading through the door.

The stairs moan underneath his feet as he quietly climbs them. He can hear Jooyoung chatting on the phone as he walks to his room.

He changes into pajamas and heads to the bathroom. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are half open.

“Damn, I am a lightweight.” he says while observing his face in the mirror.

He splashes water on his face and rakes his hands through his hair.

The bathroom light flickers. He furrows his brow.

“I thought dad fixed that last week.”

He washes up quietly and knocks on Jooyoung’s door.

“What?” she calls out.

He creaks the door open. “Don’t be on the phone for too long noona, mom will get mad.”

She rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to know, don’t be a snitch.”

“I never am.” he sighs and closes the door.

He climbs into bed and turns to look at the photo on his nightstand. It’s him and the gang at seventh grade graduation.

Jay is smiling big and towering over the rest of them. He was always the tallest among them and Jungwon was dead jealous.

Jake’s arm is slung around Jungwon and Jungwon’s arm is around little Sunoo. Sunoo’s smile is bright and cute. His suit jacket is too big for him, he probably borrowed it from Heeseung.

Jungwon still remembers the day he and Sunoo met. It was the first day of kindergarten. Sunoo was alone on the swing set, staring at his feet. Jungwon had a few friends that he met in preschool but he wondered what the harm was to have one more. He asked Sunoo if he wanted to be friends. It was the best decision he ever made.

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“Breakfast!” Jungwon’s mom calls out as he pulls on a striped polo.

He skips down the stairs and sits down at the dining table.

“Have you seen Sunoo? Heeseung called this morning.” Mrs. Yang says while handing him a plate of waffles, bacon, and eggs.

“No, I thought he biked home.” Jungwon cocks a brow while pouring syrup over all of his food.

“That’s disgusting.” Jooyoung remarks while taking a seat next to him.

“Your face is disgusting.” he jeers.

“Well make sure he’s at school today okay? Heeseung sounded really worried.” Mrs. Yang sits down next to her husband.

“Does he think he got kidnapped or something? As if anyone would want him.” Jooyoung snickers.

“Fuck off, that’s not funny.” Jungwon says.

“Language.” Mr. Yang says sternly.

“She’s being an ass.” Jungwon rolls his eyes.

“What did you just call me?” Jooyoung’s head snaps towards him.

“Whatever.” he dismisses her.

She shoves his shoulder. “No, say it again.”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Mrs. Yang yells. “Can we not have one peaceful breakfast?”

“I can, I don’t know about her though.” Jungwon grumbles.

“I’ll kill you.” Jooyoung grits her teeth.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Jungwon replies.

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Sunoo’s not at school.

“Do you think he’s sick or something?” Jake wonders.

“That doesn’t make sense though, his mom said he never came home last night.” Jungwon chews on his pencil.

“Maybe he went to someone’s house.” Jay suggests and Jungwon gives him a look.

“Who’s house would he have gone to? We’re his only friends.”

Jay shrugs. “Maybe he has a secret lover.” Sunghoon chuckles.

“Why aren’t you guys taking this seriously? Something could have happened.” Jungwon crosses his arms.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Nothing bad ever happens in this shit town anyway.” Jake says right as Mr. Jones walks into the classroom.

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Jungwons heart drops further and further into his stomach as the day goes on with no sign of Sunoo.

The boys are playing basketball during p.e when Principal Coleman and a policeman walk into the gym.

“I wonder who’s weed they found.” Jay jokes but his smile diminishes as the two men approach them.

“Gentlemen we need to speak to you,” Principal Coleman says, “outside that is.”

They all give each other nervous looks but follow suit. Jungwon can feel eyes on his back as he makes his way out of the door.

“Do you know what route Sunoo takes to get home?” the chief says. He towers over them and his biceps look the same width as Jungwon's thighs.

“Yeah, he takes Mirkwood.” Jungwon replies quickly.

“Don’t fucking call it that anymore.” Jay rolls his eyes.

“What the hell is Mirkwood?” the man says and crosses his arms. “Stop messing around, this is serious.”

“It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Jake says.

“Why do you call it Mirkwood?” the cop says, unimpressed.

“It’s from The Hobbit.” Jungwon says and Jay shoves his shoulder.

“What? I’m just telling the truth.” Jungwon exclaims.

“So what happened to Sunoo?” Sunghoon says plainly. “Where is he?”

“We’re not sure, he’s probably at his Dad’s-”

“Why would he go there, his dad’s a cock.” Jay argues.

“His dad sucks.” Sunghoon says under his breath.

“Enough, let me do my job alright?” the cop says, exasperated.

“We can help look for him, we know all the places he likes to go.” Jungwon says with hopeful eyes and Niki nods.

“Yeah, we can help.” Jake says.

“No,” the cop shakes his head. “After school you are all to go home, and if I see any of you searching around, I’ll have you in shackles. Is that clear?”

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“We have to.”

“What if we get caught?”

“Then we run.” Jay says while packing a backpack of supplies.

“You think we can out run him?” Jungwon gets up and pulls a jacket on.

“Of course we can, that dude was huge.” Niki says while chugging down a Coke.

“Don’t drink that,” Sunghoon tsks. “You’ll have to pee.”

“I’ll just piss in the woods.” Niki rebuttals.

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The sun had set an hour ago and the stars were twinkling bright.

“Where are you boys going?” Mrs. Yang asks while watching tv on the couch.

“Party.” Jungwon says quickly.

“With backpacks?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Uhm, yeah.” Jungwon nods and she giggles.

“You’re not a good liar Jungwon-ah. Have fun, don’t be stupid out there.” she says and they happily head out the door.

Jungwon drives to Mirkwood with his headlights off. He couldn’t risk getting caught, that cop scared the shit of him.

“There’s a barricade.” Jake says quietly.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon says while getting out of the car, pulling his flashlight out of his backpack. “Shit, it’s raining.” Jay wipes a raindrop off of his cheek.

Jungwon takes his flashlight out and pulls his hood over his head.

They hop over the blockade and venture into the dense woods.

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It’s pouring at this point and their hoods are only making things worse.

They can’t even hear their footsteps over the sound of crashing rain.

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Jake asks.

“Anything, his bike, his jacket, him.” Jay says.

Jungwon was starting to regret this decision. They’ve been walking for what seemed like hours with no clue of Sunoo.

“Maybe we should turn back,” Jungwon says. “This isn’t working.”

“No,” Jay says. “We need to keep looking, cops miss shit all the time.”

“Hold on hold on,” Jake stops in his tracks.

“What?” everyone asks.

“Shut up, do you hear that?” he says and they all try to open their ears. There’s rustling coming from ahead. Something is coming towards them.

“Fuck.” Jungwon whispers and grabs onto Jay's arm.

They all lift their flashlights to find a human in nothing but an oversized yellow shirt, breathing heavily and squinting from the lights blinding their eyes.

#enhypen fic #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #Jungwon x reader #Jungwon angst #Jungwon fluff #enhypen imagines

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) ~ Part 17

Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.

WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain. Limb loss and regrowth. Bullet wounds. Gore.

18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3

Ao3

Sam follows Bucky up two flights of stairs, blinking rapidly as the sun finally hits his eyes. Once the spots clear, his surroundings come into view. They're in some sort of entry way, there's dark red carpet on the floor, leading up another set of stairs. The building looked... well if Sam was being honest with himself the building looked dilapidated. The paint was peeling, the floors were far from clean, the iron railing along the stairs looked rusted, and Sam could swear even the bricks of the walls looked faded with age.

Bucky begins climbing the stairs, he looks back at Sam once, and he can see that he's frowning, his lip pulled between his teeth. Sam hears a noise and turns quickly, his hand going into his jacket on instinct, hand wrapping around his gun. He relaxes when he sees a man sitting on the floor in the corner, he's got the morning paper spread out on his lap.

"Morning Arthur." Bucky says, his voice a sigh, drawing Sam's attention. The man says nothing as Bucky continues up the stairs. Sam takes a few steps at a time to catch up and does his best to stay a step behind him.

Bucky leads him down a long hallway and then shoves a key into a doorknob. Sam's not exactly sure why he'd need a key in this building, surly no one else was living here. Sam bit his lip and refrained from commenting. He might be a criminal, but his mother had taught him manners. Bucky pushed the door open and held his hand through it, looking at Sam, his eyes only making it to Sam's shoulders. Sam watched him for a moment, Bucky's eyes rose no higher.

Sam stepped through the doorway and was glad to see that at least the apartment looked clean, new, Sam wouldn't go so far as to call it "lived in", but there was no trash on the ground, and the walls weren't peeling. He saw a small couch, and a tv that had been plugged into the wall and set on the floor. His eyes wandered for a moment longer, noting the kitchen to his right and then he startled when Bucky pushed the door shut with a click.

His shoulders tensed as he turned to look at Bucky, he was frowning again, and rubbing at the back of his neck. Sam said nothing. He'd never see Bucky this quiet, most of the time it was hard to shut him up. He watched Bucky lift his leg and scratch the back of his calf with the toe of his boot and it hit him. He's nervous. Bucky Barnes, is nervous. Sam glances around the room again, his eyes darting this way and that, and he feels what could only be pitty. He shoves the feeling away, knowing Bucky wouldn't want it.

"It's... cozy." Sam says, narrowing his eyes at Bucky when he finally, finally, moves his eyes up off the floor. Bucky looks at him, and then snorts.

"You don't have to be nice. I know how it looks." He says, dismissively, and kicks off his shoes.

"I'd offer you a beer but we don't have any. The fridge is empty actually, so don't even bother." He says, walking past Sam as he tugs his jacket off and tosses it on the floor near the couch.

"It's a little early for beer isn't it?" Sam asked, slowly trailing after Bucky, feeling awkward in this place. Bucky ducks back out of the room he'd stepped into, only visible above the waist, his hand resting on the door frame as he looked at Sam.

"You're house just exploded. And you have a very pricey ransom on your head. Is it, too early for beer?" Bucky asks, squinting, and then he smiles, a shit eating, toothy thing that has Sam's shoulders relaxing agaisnt his wishes. He sighs as Bucky disappears out of sight again.

Bucky walks back out of the room with an armful of sheets. He waves Sam after him and Sam follows obediently, frowning at himself, a little disconcerted at how easily he follows Bucky's, unspoken, orders. Bucky stops outside a doorway and leans against the wall.

"This is you. If you wanna get some rest. I can go get us some food if you're hungry." Bucky says, gently placing the sheets in Sam's arms when he reaches for them.

"Is that safe?" Sam asks, holding the sheets close to his chest.

"It'll be fine. No one can find this place. Not if I don't want them too. They could follow me to the door and still not find it." Buck says with a sigh, his arms folded across his chest as he rested his head on the wall.

"Oh yeah? How's that work?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed.

"Magic." Buck says, his brows jumping playfully on his forhead before he walks away, leaving Sam standing in the hall outside a nearly empty bedroom.

"Bathrooms at the end of the hall on the left if you need it." Sam turned to see Bucky pointing to the left, his back turned to Sam, arm raised over his head. Sam chuckled, shook his head, and walked into the room to make his new bed.

~

Bucky leaves around noon to get them food. Sam wanders the apartment while he's gone. Doing his best not to be too nosy, but he's curious, he can't help it. He knows Bucky has money. Or at least, he used to. Sam knows he can't always work for free, depsite what people may say about him. But this building, Bucky's home, would suggest that what people say is true. Maybe he does work for free. And if he does, what does that say about him?

Sam walks past a closed door, his fingers linger on the knob a moment before he turns it and pushes the door open enough to peek inside. There's a messily made bed shoved into one corner, the night stand on the right holds a small lamp. And in the other corner, Sam's eyes widen when they land on it, a very old looking piano. Sam squints into the dark room, the curtains hanging over the window are thick, and sees that the keys are well worn, but clean, almost shining in the dark. His heart beats a little faster, like he'd just seen something he wasn't supposed to. He closes the door quickly and moves on.

The sound he makes when he walks into the bathroom would have made Bucky laugh at him. It's almost a moan. The bathroom is huge. And beautiful. And Sam thinks maybe Bucky had spent all his money on this, because he'd never seen a tub that big, it had three fucking steps leading up to it. He rubs at his face and moves to the sink. It takes him a moment to realize something's missing. A huge luxury bathroom inside a run down building, Sam thought it had everything, until he splashed water on his face at the sink and then looked up, looking for himself in a mirror that wasn't there.

He straightened up and looked around the room, no mirrors, at all. Sam frowned as he dried his face, who in the world didn't have a mirror in their bathroom? He took a deep breathe and shrugged, trying not to over think it, and walked back out into the apartment. He wandered to the kitchen, his fingers dancing across the counter tops as he moved toward the fridge.

Bucky had said it was empty, and he hadn't been lying, not really. Sam opened the door and almost laughed. The fridge was indeed bare, except for one large bottle of Worcester sauce shoved in the door. Sam picked it up, looked at the date, it wasn't expired as he'd been expecting, and put it back down. He closed the door with a furrowed brow, what the fuck does this guy eat that all he has in his refrigerator is a big bottle of fucking Worcester sauce?

Sam felt that pang beneath his ribs again and rubbed at his chest. Bucky must get so lonely. His apartment was barely furnished, had one thing in his fridge and it wasn't even something that could be eaten, and the only other person in the building, as far as Sam could tell, was a homeless man in the entry way. Sam walked to the window and looked out at the mostly empty street below, he saw Bucky turn around the closest corner and head his way. His hands were full.

He'd brought back pizza, and Chinese, and Mexican. Sam stayed silent as he watched him set them all on the counter. Bucky looked up at him eventually, a question in his eyes.

"You hungry?" Sam asked, not able to keep the smile at bay this time. Bucky snorted, dropped his eyes to the floor again and rubbed at his neck. Sam would swear he was blushing. But when he looked back up at Sam his features had been schooled.

"I didn't know what you wanted." He said, smiling awkwardly before flipping the pizza box open, taking a slice, and sliding it toward Sam. Sam reached into the box and grabbed a peice, it was pepperoni, his favorite.

"Not like it won't get eaten, I'm sure." Sam said, taking a huge bite and smiling inwardly as Bucky laughed across from him.

~

He can't sleep. It's 3am and he's wide awake. Feels like he's going to burst out his skin if he doesn't do something. He pushes himself out of bed and walks out into the hall, he takes two steps and then notices the music. 

Slow, dreamy, piano notes reach his ears. His breath catches in his throat as he walks closer to Bucky's room. He stops just short of the door and leans forward, the door is open, the music floating out into the hall makes Sam's head swim. Bucky has his back to the door, he's wearing a tank top and boxers, and his hands are moving over the keys of the old piano like they know this dance by heart. Sam steps forward, forgetting himself, and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky plays for a long while, moving through song after song as Sam just stands there, staring at him. Watches the way his hair sways when he moves, the way the muscles in his arms move as his fingers dance over the keys, his eyes linger here and there and he tells himself he should leave, but doesn't seem to have the will to move. His eyes linger on Bucky's hands again, watching his fingers, when the tune changes abruptly and startles him so badly he jumps. The calm melody now a twangy tune, sounding like something out of a saloon in a western. Sam's breathing is heavy, his chest heaving, his eyes move back to Bucky to find him looking over his shoulder while he plays some stupid saloon tune. A grin spreads across his face and Sam rolls his eyes.

"Very funny." Sam says, his voice flat. The tune dies down, back to something slow, and Bucky looks away.

"Thank you, I thought so too." He grins back at Sam again and then looks back down.

"You can come in ya know? You don't have to just stand in the doorway like a stalker." Bucky says. Sam opens his mouth to protest and the saloon tune starts up again. Sam sighs, glares at him, and then moves to sit on the end of Bucky's bed. He sits quietly, pulling his feet up to sit criss cross on the bed, and watches Bucky play some more.

"Couldn't sleep?" Bucky asks, glancing at Sam.

"Naw. I don't sleep well in new places." Sam says, his thumb pressing into his ankle. Bucky nods and keeps playing.

"Kinda hard to sleep when you know people want to kill you." Bucky says, it's not a question.

"There's also that. Yeah." Sam says, nodding, his eyes wide as they stare, unfocused, at the floor. Bucky snorts and keeps playing. After a moment Sam finally asks.

"So... the piano." Sam says, questioning without questioning. Bucky sighs a laugh, his hands never missing a beat as he keeps playing.

"Yep." Is all he says.

"How'd that come about?" Sam asks, because apparently Bucky isn't going to share freely.

"I've been alive a very long time Sam." He turns and looks at him,

"You get bored." He finsihes, his brows bouncing again before he looked away. Sam's about to question further when Bucky keeps talking.

"No uh... when I was a kid, we used to watch a lot of westerns." Bucky starts, his fingers moving faster across the keys, the tune moving towards that twang again.

"And Steve always wanted to be a cowboy. To just, come into town, save a nice lady from a bad man, get the girl, ride into the sunset, all that. Just, be a hero I guess." Bucky shrugged, not looking at Sam as he played.

"And that was fine. Cowboys are cool I guess. But I never really wanted to be one. I always had this weird fascination with the guy plahing the piano in the saloon. That exciting, upbeat tune, and it was almost always the same one." He chuckled and shook his head.

"I wanted to know more about him. It seemed like an interesting job to little me. Saloon piano player. Playing upbeat tunes until the cowboy showed up. Sarcastic piano playing, that's what my mom used to call it." Bucky said, and Sam could see him smiling as the tune slowed down again, the twang leaving it for something sad.

"She used to tease me about it. But she got me piano lessons anyway." Bucky looked at him, a small smile on his lips. He held Bucky's gaze until he looked away again.

"Guess it didn't really matter." Bucky sighed, his fingers slowing on the keys.

"I ended up being the cowboy anyway. Funny how things work out." His voice was quiet. His fingers still. Sam's chest ached as he watched him sit there, silently.  It didn't seem funny to Sam. Bucky hadn't wanted this life, he'd, apparently, just wanted to play piano in a saloon. Sam smiled at the thought of Bucky as a child, sitting at a piano much too large for him, learning to do something he loved. Sam swallowed hard.

"Shame." He said, and cleared his throat. Bucky looked at him, his eyes wide and questioning.

"You'd have made a great saloon pianist." Sam said, smiling softly. Bucky looked at him. And then he was laughing. Just a quick thing, his head thrown back, two cheerful laughs bubbling out, before he looked at Sam again. They sat there, looking at each other in the quiet room, saying nothing. Sam felt his cheeks burn and broke the eye contact.

"Want me to keep playing?" Bucky asked, his fingers wiggling over the keys.

"Yeah. Yeah keep playing." Sam nodded. Bucky nodded in return and turned back to the piano. Sam drooped, falling onto his side, his arm tucked beneath his head. He listened to Bucky's beautiful music and finally fell into sleep.

~

Sam wakes in Bucky's bed, a blanket pulled over him, he's alone. He rubs at his eyes and pushes himself up, off of Bucky's bed, refusing to let himself think about that. He drops the blanket on the bed and walks down the hall, he can hear someone clanging around the kitchen. The noise stops before Sam gets there and he sees Bucky in the living room, looking down at the large tv on the floor. The volume is low but Sam knows that house. Its Steve's house, his house.

He walks closer, stopping to stand next to Bucky, who greets him with a nod. They both continue watching as the news shows coverage of the bombing. Half the back of the house is gone, just a pile of rubble.

"What are they saying?" Sam asks, wrapping his arms around himself.

"They haven't found any bodies." Bucky says, knowing what Sam was asking without him having to say it.

"Never been happier to be short staffed." Sam says, he sees Bucky incline his head in agreement.

"I got a call from Torres while you were sleeping. He, Helen and Maria are at a safe house. Minor cuts and bruises. Same for everyone else he's been in contact with." Bucky says. All business this morning, Sam thinks, but is glad for it. He's glad his people are alright.

"What the fuck do we do now?" Sam asks, his eyes glued to the ruble on the television. Bucky opens his mouth but doesn't get a chance to answer.

"I believe I may be able to help with that." A deep, smooth voice answers. Sam turns quickly to the voice, startled, at the same time Bucky groans next to him and then turns as well.

All Sam sees at first is a dark, tall, shadow standing near the window. The man takes a step forward and comes into view.

"Loki." Sam says, his shoulders tense. Loki nods, his head dropping low.

"What did I say about fucking teleporting in here?" Bucky asked, his voice grumpy, but not shocked. Sam looked between them. Loki smirked at him and Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You said you could help?" Sam asked, taking a step forward. Loki nodded again, his hands clasped in front him.

"Indeed I did. My brother and I would like to offer our assistance. We'd have done so earlier but we were, engaged elsewhere." The smile on Loki's face always made Sam uneasy, but if he was here on Thor's behalf Sam could ignore that feeling.

"And you're feeling generous after returning home?" Bucky asks, his voice gravelly and sarcastic. The grin on Loki's face faded as he looked at them.

"My brother and I were... saddened, to hear about Steve's fate. He was a good partner. And more than that, a good friend. We are sorry for your loss. And we'd like to help you, in anyway we can." Sam's chest tightened, Thor and his family had known great loss. They'd also been the most loyal to Steve. Sam knew this wasn't a trick, knew that even Loki, wouldn't use their grief against them. He could see Bucky looking at Loki, his features sofened now. He and Loki shared a look Sam couldn't quite decipher, but Bucky rubbed at his neck, cleared his throat, and stepped away from the man. Sam stepped forward, his hand outstretched in front of him.

"The help would be much appreciated. Thank you." Sam said, sighed really. Loki smiled, took his hand, and shook it.

"I'll be in touch. Til then, stay put. You'll be safe here. Bye Wade." Loki nodded lowly again, a gesture of respect for Sam, and then wiggled his fingers toward the kitchen, smirking at Bucky before disappearing in a flash of green light. Sam snapped his head in the direction of the kitchen to see Wade, standing behind the counter wearing a crooked chefs hat and an apron that said "kiss the cook". Wade lifted his chin at Sam, and then smiled when Bucky groaned and threw himself onto the couch. Sam moved his eyes slowly away from Wade, his attention moving to Bucky, he'd thrown his arm over his face.

"This is a good thing isn't it? We need help." Sam said, unsure if Bucky's attitude was because of the offer or just his general reaction to Loki.

"It is. It's good. We do need help. And they are... helpful." Bucky said, Sam could see a grimace on his face under Bucky's arm, his mouth turned in an agressive frown. Wade snorted in the kitchen but said nothing.

"Hang on a second." Sam mused.

"Ope, he's catching on." Wade commented as Sam arranged his thoughts.

"You said no one could find this place if you didn't want them to." Sam said, dragging out his words for effect. Bucky moved his arm from his face and looked up at Sam.

"Did I say that?"

"Yeah. You did. You also said, it was magic. I thought you were just being facetious, but you were being serious." Sam said, a grin spreading across his face. Bucky looked at him, several different emotions passing over his face before he apparently decided not to argue this with Sam and dropped his arm back on his face. Sam bent over the couch, moving closer to him.

"Loki enchanted this place for you didn't he?" Sam asked, poking his finger agaisnt Bucky forehead.

"He's got him now folks." Wade's voice, now doing his best impression of a sports announcer, carried in from the kitchen. Sam smiled and pressed his finger harder into Bucky's head.

"Did you two..." Bucky arm moved just enough for him to glare up at Sam. His eyes narrowed in a warning. Sam could hear stifled laughter in the kitchen.

"Did you two have a thing?" Sam teased. Bucky scrunched his nose up and stood up abruptly, a strangled sound leaving his throat as he looked between Sam and Wade. Sam looked at Wade, met his eyes for a brief sencond and watched Wade nod, once.

"Oh my god you did. You slept with Loki so he'd enchanted your apartment." Sam gasped, his mouth dropping open in shock. Wade cackled in the kitchen and then dropped a pan with a curse, disappearing below the counter as he dove after it.

"I did not sleep with him so he'd enchant my apartment." Bucky said, offense clear in his voice.

"I slept with him. And then, later, much later, he enchanted this place for me. Two separate events!" Bucky argued, pointing at Sam accusingly. Wade popped back up over the counter after grabbing his pan.

"Was it though? Like... really? Cuz if I remember correctly, just from the story you told me, there was definitely at least one sexual situation either after, or during, said enchanting." Wade smiled, pointing his spatula at Bucky, his hip cocked to the side. Sam had to stifle a laugh at the image. Bucky's face was red now, he looked between them both and growled.

"I fucking hate you both." He said, stomping past them toward his room. He spun on his heel and pointed at Wade.

"And you! You just wait and see if I ever share any stories with you again. You traitor." Bucky spat, turned around again, walked into his room, and slammed the door. Sam looked from Bucky's door, back to Wade. Wade smiled at him and went back to cooking.

"Whatcha makin?" Sam asked as he walked over to the small overhang that he was sure was ment to be a bar, though there were no stools beneath it.

"Pancakes. Blueberry or chocolate chip? I can also do strawberry but not very well, and last time I made them for Buck, he did end up puking, so ya know, just be warned." Wade waved his spatula around as he talked, pointing to this and that as he moved around the kitchen.

"Chocolate chip for me." Sam said, he was trying not to stare. He'd never seen Wade without his mask before. He'd known, and seen part of him, his hands and part of his face at the house. But seeing his whole face, and his arms under his short sleeves was different.  But then he was smiling at Sam and all he could see was his eyes. They were warm, and inviting.

"Me too! Bucks a Blueberry guy but we don't have to fault him for that." Wade teased, jerking the pan in his hand and sending the pancake into the air, it flipped twice and then landed perfectly back in the pan. Sam smiled and watched Wade dance around the kitchen, humming to himself, the song sounded familiar, Sam thought it might be a Spice Girl's song.

"So. Him and Loki huh?" Sam asked, smiling at Wade as he slid a plateful of pancakes to him. Wade nodded and grinned.

"Oh yeah. You let a pretty guy with vanishing knives enchant your house one time! And he just comes and goes as he pleases." Wade said, shaking his head with a twinkle in his eye. Sam laughed and took a bite.

The pancakes were delicious, warm and fluffy and perfect. He ate quietly as Wade made pancake after pancake, humming to himself as he moved like a hurricane through the kitchen. Sam ate his breakfast, and noticed for the first time since Steve had been taken from them, that there was no tension in his muscles. He didn't feel like he had to constantly look over his shoulder. He took another bite, watched Wade flip a pancake onto the ceiling, and thought he felt dangerously at home here.

#sambucky #winter falcon #sambucky fic #winter falcon fic #sambucky mob au #dirty deeds (done dirt cheap) #dirty deeds #dirty deeds part 17 #dd(ddc) #my writing

[fly-like-a-phoenix]

House of Lust (part 17)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: some weird things, pre-smut.

You arrived together to the dining room, and a lot of guests shared glances. The handsome priest disappeared for three days, and you too. And a lot of them noticed that.

The table was full of guests already sitting. Only two chairs, one in front of the other, were empty. Everyone wanted to be closer to Odelle's chair. The table had a lot of food too: two turkeys, one big pig with an apple in his mouth, cheese, fruits, eggs, bread, soup. And wine already served in big glasses, in front of every chair.

Coulmier moved a chair to let you sit, and then he smiled at you. He was a gentleman. He then sat in front of you, Josephine closer to you both at one tip of the table, smiling too. You looked beautiful together.

Odelle sat at the other tip, and everyone went silent and looked at her. She glanced at everyone with a perfid smile in her face. Then, she rised her hands.

"My friends. My guests. My visitors to this House of Lust. As everything, this celebration of our way of life has to end. We enjoyed these days together, doing everything that pleases us and what we can't do freely in the cities. For that, I raise my glass. Bottoms up, for the Marquis de Sade!"

Every person raised the glass of wine that was already served, and said, at the unison "Marquis". As a coincidence, Coulmier and you glanced at Josephine. The way Odelle said "My friends, my guests" was strange, like leaving her behind.

François looked at you and drank wine. It had a nice taste. Perhaps a little strong, but a good red wine. The meal continued with people talking about their days in the mansion, and the things they did, alone, with others, to others...

You drank too, sharing Josephine's and François silence. Without any doubt, something strange happened between your sisters. Something bad, surely, because usually, Josephine always sat at Odelle's side in the last party. But you didn't ask.

And hour and a half latter, François could not eat more. He was really satisfied after those days without eating nothing in the dungeon. He looked at you, the way you were finishing your meal, and smiled.

"So, everyone!" Said Odelle, making a sound with her glass and spoon. "Enjoy this last day like if you're going to die! And I hope I'll see everybody again next year. Try to keep your crimes in secret."

A general laugh filled the place, and every guest went back to their rooms. Fine, you thought. No one asked nothing about you or the Abbé. You raised and went to Josephine side.

"Can I talk with you?" You murmured, and she nodded. You made a sign with your head, and François understood you wanted to talk her about the plan you got with him. Josephine didn't deserve to stay with Odelle.

François left the table and went to your bedroom. Suddenly, the large house seemed empty. He could hear sounds from the inside of the rooms, but again, nothing else.

He was walking very slowly when he heard his name. At first, it was like a whisper, but when he heard it again, he stopped. There was no one in front of him, so he turned around.

"Abbé." Said the sweet voice. And he recognized it.

It was Madeline.

She was standing there, outstanding as she was those days before everything happened, those days before Roger-Collard arrival. Her hair was tied, and her dress was clean as her skin.

"Abbé." She said again, and smiled.

François had his mouth wide open. He couldn't belive she was there. She was dead! How was that possible? Was he dreaming? Did he died in the dungeon?

"What is it, Abbé? Why do you look at me so scared?"

Her smile vanished. He was really in shock, trembling, feeling a little dissy. The walls of the corridor seemed to twitch around him, and he wanted to cry, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't move.

"Abbé, don't scare me." She said, again his title in her beautiful lips. Then, he reacted, and almost run to her, hugging her strongly and crying.

"Madeline. Oh my God. How...?"

She looked at him, and for a second her face was full of confussion. She arched an eyebrow, and then smiled at him, touching his face with both hands.

"It's something... I can't explain. Just follow me."

Her hands took both of his, and then just one. Her skin was still soft, warm. She guided him through the hallway until they arrived to the empty dining room. And François saw the sky behind the windows, which was dark because of the rain clouds.

He could hear the storm coming and some thunders while they walked to a hallway he hadn't see before. Suddenly, Madeline let go his hands and got closer to the wall. She pushed it, and the wall opened in two. It was a secret door.

The inside was darker than the sky. There were no windows, and just a few candles lighted the place. It was big, and cold. Walls were different from the rest of the house, made with stone. And there was something in the center of the room that François recognized at the moment his eyes got used to darkness.

It was an altar. Big, an made of stone too. Then, he scanned the place better with his eyes, and then he saw something that terrified him for a couple of seconds: people. There were people standing in there.

They were dressed all in black, like cassocks. But no one was a priest. And no one had a normal face: just two orifices as eyes and everything black as the rest of the clothes.

"What is it?" Madeline asked, watching the place as he did.

"Don't you see them?" Said he, as if seeing her wasn't strange enough.

"Who am I supossed to see?" She lifted her eyebrow, smiling at him.

"The people. The..."

Maybe it was his mind. But he was sure she was there, with him. Why did he suddenly see her? Maybe he drank too much, arrived to the bed, and he was just dreaming with her and all that.

"The statues, you mean?" She asked, speaking slowly.

"St... Statues?"

Coulmier was sure he saw people, and not statues. He was sure about that, as the sky clear, blue and without any clouds during the lunch. But then, after Madeline said it, the people were indeed statues. Saint statues.

"Is this... The Charenton chapel? How...?"

But his questions were blown away from his mind at the moment Madeline kissed him with hunger. He closed his eyes after the surprise abandoned him. She still felt the same way. Her lips, her taste. He let himself go, and his hands traveled to her hips, squeezing gently, earning a soft moan from her.

They were in the chapel again. But she wasn't dead as that time. That dream he had five years before this was happening scared the hell out of him. But now, it was all beautiful. She was well, healthy, without any wound.

If this was a dream, he didn't want that kiss to end. The kiss ended, of course, but it was better that what he has thinking. At the second he opened his mouth to say something and probably ruin the moment, Madeline put her fingers in his lips, and he didn't say anything.

"Come on. I still want you. And I hope you still want me, more now that you're not so churchy."

Not so churchy? Madeline was a lot of things. But she never mocked about his work as a priest, or the things he believed in. She respected him, she helped him. And that time they kissed in his bedroom, the one and only real kiss, she understood why he couldn't make love to her.

The word seemed weird to him, like new like new but not totally unintelligible. It wasn't a word that everybody used. It was a word like those the Marquis used. Like those he also used a lot while writing wicked stories.

But again, when his own thoughts filled his mind, Madeline hands went to his sides and then, slowly opening some buttons of his cassock, she let her hands go into his trousers.

When she took his erect manhood in her hands was something really shocking for him. Yes. He still desired Madeline, even if in his mind he knew he was dreaming again with her.

But that feeling... Her fingers caressing his skin, his thumb playing with the tip, wet because of his arousal... He felt himself getting harder, because it was all so real.

"Do you like it, Abbé?" She murmured, and he nodded while passing his tongue over his lips.

She kept touching him like for a minute, opening the rest of the buttons and his shirt too with her free hand. His breathing became faster when her nails caressed the skin of his abdomen and went up to his chest.

She then put her hand flat in the center of his chest. He saw how quickly he was breathing, feeling hotter down there around her hand.

"I can feel your heart in my hand. That's what I do to you?" Said she, moving her fingers to play with the short hair around his nipple, her nails scratching the wound a little.

"Yes." He answered. "I still got like that for you."

"Really? Because I thought you got like that for Y/N only now."

He didn't answer, but it was true. He was scared, aroused. It was all so weird but so exciting that he couldn't control his feelings. But did he still really love Madeline? Was she real? Or a product of his mind.

He repeated himself he used to see her and the Marquis while he was in that cell in Charenton. He talked to them. He was really lost.

But now, he knew she wasn't real. He could enjoy the dream and the feeling she was still among living people. But he knew it was not like that. He was cured. And yes, his faith wasn't the same as before, but the only man who resurrected was Jesus.

"It beats like that for Y/N only. It's just that seeing you here... After those horrible things happened... After you... I can't belive I'm with you, Maddy. But... I..."

There was a moment of silence where she stopped her movements around his cock. His hearth became wilder, but because he was nervous about whst he was just about to say aloud.

"I don't love you anymore, Maddy. Since I met Y/N, I don't love anyone else."

He took her hand out of his pants, and kissed it. Tears came again to his eyes as he touched her cheek, smiling with pain.

"I hope you can forgive me. Forgive me for this. Forgive me for not showing you how much I loved you. Forgive me for not accepting making love to you that night. And forgive me for arriving so late to the basement. I couldn't save you."

She kissed him again, like forgiving him for all he said and more. When the kiss ended, she caressed his neck, and her hands went to his sides, giving him tingles.

"You can't love me. But you can make love to me. What do you say? Don't you wanna do it one last time before you go? Or is it the first time?"

Go? Go where? Out if the mansion, away from the House of Lust? Did she meant that? Or away of his memory forever?

It didn't mind, because seconds later, he didn't know when, Madeline took of her dress and being fully naked and ready for him, she laid in the altar, seducing and waiting for him.

Tagging: @darknessisafriend @five-miles-over @yukis-writing @thegirlwho @jokerflecker @missrockabilly99 @luperugorria99 @weirdflecksbutok @skaraboo @starksclown @sgtsavoytruffle @joaquinisart @sophiefleck @the-queen-of-things @ajokerfangirl @bailaycantaconmingo @joaquinfeed @joaquinphoenixdaily @beatlebabe1996

#joaquin phoenix #abbe de coulmier x reader #quills #abbe x reader #abbe de coulmier thirst squad #abbe de coulmier #abbe thirst squad #abbe will help #marquis de sade

[hiddlestonsbabygirl]

Let It Snow (Steve x reader) part seven

In which (Y/N)’s cousin, Bucky, comes home for the holidays with a friend along and decided to stay for Christmas Eve when a heavy snow storm hits home.

Contains: fluff, cousin!Bucky moment

A/N: hello! Sorry for a short and quick update, just wanted to let ya’ll know that I might be writing new stories, just not sure if they’re gonna be one shot or series. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be updating Let It Snow anymore! Just stay tuned! x

PART ONE

...

“(Y/N)...”

“Mmmm.”

“(Y/N), wake up babe.”

“Wha—what?”

You slowly opened your eyes, wincing as they suddenly adjusted to the light. Aside from the blinding light from your window, you were surprised to see a grinning Steve Rogers on top of you, his weight weighing you down a little but not enough to squish you.

“Good morning!” He greeted with a raspy, just-woke-up voice. He sounds so hot.

“Good mo—“ you couldn’t even finish your greeting because of the sudden pair of warm lips attacking yours.

“Mmmmm...” he hummed in satisfaction, lips still against yours, before he swiped his tongue across your lower lip asking for access.

You couldn’t help but laugh—which allowed him to taste your tongue as you tried to playfully push him away.

“Steve!” You laughed in between kisses. “Morning...breath!”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled into the kiss, adding a little pressure on you and taking in both of your wrists in his hands. He began kissing you harder and you decided to give in and relax into the kiss. His grip on your wrists loosened which you took the chance to wrap it around his neck and pull him closer.

He lets out a breathy sigh as he let his hands wander down your hips, trailing down your thighs to which he spread them apart and made them wrap around his torso. You could feel his hard cock brushing against your pussy, and events from last night came rushing back and you suddenly felt hot and heavy.

“Wait,” you stopped him, placing your hands on his chest and he hesitantly let go of your lips.

“What is it doll?”

“Are you wearing my robe??” You laughed.

“Correction,” he grinned. “I’m wearing an extra robe I found in your bathroom, and I’m glad that it’s two sizes bigger.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “Why are you wearing one, anyway?”

“Well, I took a shower while you were asleep,” he replied as he kissed your nose. “and watched you sleep peacefully before I had to wake you up.”

Your brows slightly furrowed but you were still smiling. “Had to? Why? What time is it?”

His smile slowly faltered, his mouth pressing into a thin line while deep in thought. You suddenly felt worried while you waited for his response, all the sexual tension slowly dissipating in the air.

“Come here.” He said as he sat up and moved to sit next to you, leaning his back against the headboard and patted his lap. “Sit on my lap.”

Despite your worry and wonder, your heart fluttered a little as you quickly scrambled from your position and sat on his lap just as he instructed. His hands instinctively rested on your torso while you stared at him waiting.

“To answer your question, it’s still 6am.” He began. “And seeing the weather condition, it’s safe to say that I can go back to Boston now.”

Your face faltered and you tried to hide it from Steve. You thought he didn’t notice but you were too obvious.

“Hey, you know I’ll miss you just as much.” He said, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek, to which you instinctively lean in to his touch.

“When will I see you again?” You asked.

“I was hoping if you want to have dinner with me?” He asked as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “What do you say, tomorrow night?”

You couldn’t control the hurricane of emotions swirling about in your stomach as you tried your best to keep your cool. But then again, you’ve never been good at being subtle. But Steve enjoyed seeing you like this; it made him feel wanted.

“I’d love to!”

“That’s my girl.” He praised with a wink, and he pulled you in for another long kiss.

...

“Need any help?” Bucky asked cheerfully as he watched you sprinkle a few rosemaries on the marinated turkey before you had to put it in the oven. You were helping your family prepare lunch and everyone was occupied with doing something inside and outside the house.

In this case, except for Bucky. He looked like he just got up but seemed to have woken up on the right side of the bed.

“Nah, I’m already finishing up. But thanks anyways.” You replied with a smile as you carried your seasoned turkey and put it inside the oven, ready for roasting.

“You seem cheerful today,” you pointed out as you made your way to the sink to start cleaning up the utensils you used for seasoning the turkey.

“I am, thanks for noticing.” He beamed.

“Pray tell why?”

“Well, I think my best friend just got laid last night.” He replied excitedly, as if someone had just won the lottery.

Your eyes went wide as you turned to face him, and he still had that shit-eating grin on his face. He knew. Steve told him. You can’t even deny it anymore.

“He told you?”

“Yep! But of course he left out the details. He said it was only his to think about.” He replied with a wink and you looked away to hide the growing blush spreading throughout your face.

“So??” He added. “How was it??”

“Shut up, Buck!” You exclaimed half-heartedly, spraying water at him and he laughed.

“Judging by your red face, I think it went absolutely well.”

Talking about this with your cousin slash Steve’s best friend was over-the-top awkward, but you had a few questions yourself that you hopefully want to be answered.

“Buck,” you began. “Are you and Steve open to each other?”

“Whaddyamean?”

“Open as in—you know...does he share to you about his sex life? Like, his wants and dislikes, fantasies...kink?”

He thought about it for a moment. “He doesn’t share those stuff that much, but from what I’ve observed as his best friend for years already, he’s really dominant and wants to care and look out for someone, not the other way around.”

So that explains his daddy kink.

“Why? Did something happen last night?”

Your blush grew. “Well, sorta...”

“You know you can tell me cousin.” He said softly with a reassuring smile, all teasing gone from his face.

“Well,” you took in a deep breath. “He likes to be called daddy.”

“Holy shit!!!”

“Buck keep your voice down!” You exclaimed as you tried to calm down a cackling Bucky.

“Okay, sorry, sorry.” He breathed out after giggling like a teenager, a grin still prominent on his lips. “I actually did not know that my best friend has a daddy kink.”

“Yeah but please don’t tease him or anything. Don’t let him know that I told you about it.” You pleaded, rinsing off the last of the utensils you used for the roasted turkey.

“You can trust me cousin.”

“Tease anyone about what??”

Christina suddenly piped in. Your heart sank, wondering if she heard the whole conversation. Bucky looked surprised as well.

“No one, Chris.” You replied quickly, looking away from the doorframe where your older sister stood and busied yourself with the dishes.

“Are you guys hiding something from me??” She squeaked, feigning offense as she brought a hand up to her chest and looking like she was hurt.

“It’s private, Christina.” Bucky replied, giving her a pointed look and she instantly dropped off the act. If there was one thing Christina is scared at, is that she doesn’t want to upset Bucky. You’ve took notice of that ever since you were still kids, Christina offering her food and even her toys to him whenever Bucky came around to play. And even until now that you were adults, you realized she still has that in her. And you were really thankful that Bucky was there to save you.

“Okay then,” she sighed, obviously disappointed as she glared at you suspiciously. She came near you, leaning against the counter as she watched you put back the dishes in the rack. “So Steve left this morning.”

“That’s correct.” Bucky replied, staring down at the floor, the playfulness and grin gone from his face.

“Told me he’d see me again soon. Gave me a kiss on the cheek.”

You tensed up. Christina must have noticed it, seeing as she instantly grinned, knowing she had struck a nerve.

“Isn’t he sweet??” She giggled, her eyes focused on you, waiting for you to snap with every mention of Steve.

“He’s a sweetheart alright.” You replied monotonously, not catching her eye as you wiped your hands a little too hard on a towel.

“I should ask him to hangout with me,” she began. “Surely he’d say yes. He’s been giving signs that he kinda likes me.”

“Like what signs?” Bucky piped in, clearly wanting to hear what Christina has to say.

“Well, he couldn’t stop staring at me during dinner last night, laughs at a lot of my jokes, and he was even impressed that I saved my friend that one time!”

You struggled to keep your laughs to yourself. Even Bucky was trying not to laugh, only mustering an amused grin as he stared at your sister.

“And the best part is that he bought me a gold necklace as a present! Can you believe that??”

“Steve’s a sweetheart indeed,” Bucky agreed, obvious that he was holding in a laugh just like you were but Christina was oblivious.

“Yeah, it’s so obvious that he likes me.” She then sighed dreamily, spacing out as she thought of the blue-eyed man.

The blue-eyed man that she didn’t know fucked you good last night.

She then turned to face you, giving you a challenging look. “So what did Steve give you, sister?”

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot, but you didn’t want to be obvious in front of your sister. If she knew you got lingerie from the man she’s been crushing hard on, she’d snap.

“Nothing, actually.”

“What??” Bucky and Christina spoke in unison, looking surprised. Oh yes, you haven’t mentioned to Bucky that his best friend gave you lingerie for Christmas.

“Yeah, he didn’t give me anything. He said he wasn’t sure what to give me, so I guess he kinda gave up.” You shrugged as you mustered a fake, I-don’t-care-at-all smile. “No biggie.”

Christina snorted as she began walking out the kitchen, clearly satisfied with what she heard. “Oh, you poor thing.”

Poor thing indeed.

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Tags: @patzammit @lxdyred @dangerouslovefanfic @paranjaperiyauniverse @songforhema @denisemarieangelina @cubedtriangle @1nd1bab1 @nancybenson @emmydmast @evansmess @little-dark-empress @zsuzstyina @meghanannexx @1elboomdemsechevarria @lady-x-red

Hit me up if you guys wanna be tagged! x

#captain america #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #steve x reader #fanfiction #imagines #steve rogers imagines

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

But it’s snowing

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Summary: Because the Tower can’t stay unsupervised during Christmas you are forced to stay and miss the family reunion. Byt not everything so bad after all.

Warnings: A bit (really just tiny bit) of angst, fluff.

A/N: And here comes my last (I hope) late challenge. This one is for one and only @justkending​. Congratulations on your milestone! <3 You deserved that!

You loved winter. You remember always playing with your parents and brothers whenever it started to snow. You were all wearing tons of sweaters, the warmest gloves and spent hours outside, tossing snow at each other or making snowmen. After hours, when you were literally shaking out of cold, you would come back to the warm house met with your mom waiting for all of yous with hot chocolate and some cookies.  

You just finished talking to your parents, apologising them for not coming for Christmas this year. Well… not like bad guys decided to behave, only because you’d like to eat some of that delicious turkey your dad always made. 

You sighed and leaned down, shoving your head in your arms, with the solemn idea of all the food you will miss. You loved your job to bits. Catching the bad guys alongside some superhero handsome faces (and beautiful ones as well) was one of the coolest jobs. But at moments like that, you hated your job. You haven’t seen your family for a whole year and you were looking forward to this year’s holidays. You bought all the presents, which were now sitting in the corner of your room, laughing at you. 

“You’re ok?” You looked up to meet the concerned look on your Captains face. You frowned and pouted and turned around, your back to him. You knew you were being childish, but he deserved it. He was the one who made you stay here in the Tower, while everyone else except the holy trinity of menace - him, Sam and Bucky - and you stayed in the damn Tower. 

“We’re gonna need you. Not even Bucky can shoot like you.” You should feel proud when he said that, but all you felt was disappointment for not being able to spend that time with your family. 

“Come one, sweetheart, is this how its gonna be now?” He finally asked, walking into your room and closing the doors. Something you should have done before. You still kept your back to him and huffed, to underline how mad you are at him. “You know if I could I wouldn’t keep you. But you know the rules... We work in four people teams and you work perfectly with us… If someone attacks the Tower we will be able to work perfectly together…” You could hear the pain and sorry in his voice and you were so close to turn around and tell him it was ok. But no… You will be strong! “We were thinking…” 

“Oh no…” You mumbled, making him chuckle. It was never good when the three of them were making a plan. It was even worse when they all agreed on something. Bucky and Sam agreeing was not a good sign. Hell no. “Should I be scared?” He smiled, happy for you to finally talk to him. 

“We know how much you love Christmas and how much you hate it that you can’t spend it with your family…”

“I wonder whose fault that is!” He sighed and bit his lip, trying not to roll his eyes. He hated when you were acting like a kid. You were definitely spending too much time with Tony and Clint. 

“How about we make our special little Christmas?” You turned around, definitely surprised to hear that. “We have already ordered food, so if you agree we can start the preparations tomorrow… I mean if you don’t want to, we…” But he didn’t finish when you jumped and hugged him, smiling like a little girl. It didn’t take Steve long to circle his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. Those parts were his favourite in this friendship between the two of you. You gave the best hugs. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Only if you help me sending those gifts to my family.” He smiled and nodded, happy to see you smile again. 

**

“I think I know how to stir a damn sauce, Wilson!” Bucky growled, already annoyed with Sam’s complaining. 

“Well, apparently no… If you stir too fast…”

“Sam, Bucky…” You exhaled, giving them the most disappointed look. “I put you two on different things, for this not to happen. Bucky, you’re doing great. Sam stop being a whiny bitch!” You grinned at him when he sends you one of his evil looks. 

“I’m not sure that’s a language suitable for a lady”, Steve whispered at you, helping you to shove vegetables into turkey’s ass. 

“Well, good thing I ain’t a lady then, Rogers”, you winked at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ok, close him up and he’s ready for tomorrow!” You exclaimed happily, taking a bite of the carrot from what was left of the turkey’s filling. “We have mashed potatoes, turkey, two extra types of meat, three sauces, a lovely apple pie made by one and only Sam Wilson”, he bowed making you laugh. “Oh and salmon as well.” You jumped excitedly. 

Steve couldn’t help but smile warmly at your behaviour. On the field or the training mat you were forceful, merciless, the best sniper he met, and he worked with Bucky a lot. You didn’t blink twice to kill whoever would frighten your friends. And here you were. Acting like a complete kid. It has always been like that. When the mission finished you changed completely. You were this happy talkative, charming and flirting, beautiful woman. Yes. Flirting. He tried not to. But he noticed how your little flirting was a bit more than little with him. Started from talks, smiles and looks, and ended up in touches. He would lie to himself if he said he didn’t like it. He did. Very much indeed. 

“Stevie?” Oh, this little nickname you gave him. It was always filled with love. Softness and something he never heard from anyone else before. Oh, how he loved hearing it from you. “Are you back?”

“Back?” He frowned, just now realising that everyone except you and him left the kitchen. 

“You went somewhere. In your head, sweety. I called you a couple of times,” You chuckled seeing his confused look. “Never mind. I’m off to bed. We have a long day tomorrow,” you smiled at him and leaned in to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Have a good night, Captain.” You winked knowing quite well what this does to him. You caught him ones inhaling deeply when you called him like that after the mission, and you never forgot about it. 

“Goodnight doll.” He sighed, shaking his head in disbelieving. Oh, he was screwed. Very screwed. 

**

There were not many times Steve Grant Rogers was surprised and unable to react quickly enough. There was really not many things that would be able to surprise him. But a woman's body, throwing herself into his bed, jumping like a 5 years old child at 4:35 in the morning was one of those things. 

“Jesus, doll!” He grumbled when you tried to wake him up by calling his name and pushing his shoulder. “What happened?” He asked lazily, realizing that nothing bad happened, by the big smile on your lips. “Let me sleep.”

“It’s snowing, Stevie!” He growled and turned towards you in a complete shock. 

“You woke me up. On my day off at 4:35 to tell me it’s snowing? Thanks, doll, you can go back to bed. This is what I’m gonna do!” He was about to turn around and close his eyes once again when you caught his hand and started to pull him from the bed. 

“But it’s snowing!” You exclaimed visibly annoyed he does not understand. “First snow of the year. Come on!” He took a deep breath and stopped in the middle of the room, making you halt as well. After all, he was a super soldier, way stronger than you would ever be. 

“Doll! Just stop for a second and think how stupid this whole situation is…” You looked up at him and he sighed. You were biting your lip nervously. After a while, your gaze landed on the floor and he could no longer feel your warm touch on his wrist. “I hope you didn’t wake no one else…” He yawned and smiled softly at her. 

“I’m sorry.” He frowned hearing your broken voice. “I… I really love snow and I wanted to enjoy the first flakes with you... “ His eyes widened at your confession. And he was sure his heart skipped a beat or two. “I… I’m sorry. “ You smiled at him, but he was sure it wasn’t real. Before he was able to react you left the room, closing the doors at his face. 

And then it hit him. The memory. From one of the days, you were happily talking to him about your family traditions. 

“Watching the first snow together started when I joined SHIELD and didn’t have that much time to spend with my family.” You started cheerfully, smiling at the solemn idea of those times with the people you loved so much. “So we decided that no matter what, no matter where we are, or what we do, we would call each other and look at the snow.” You chuckled. “It’s really personal you know? Snow is something I love deeply and I think that’s why it's so special for me. If I ask someone to join me, this would probably be my kind of confession.” You laughed out loud. “It’s stupid right?”

“Fuck!” He cursed under his voice. Quickly putting some clothes on, a coat, hat, some gloves and a scarf he ran to one place he was sure to find you. The roof. He was such an idiot. How could he screw this up? 

“It’s beautiful, right?” he stopped hearing your voice. There you were sitting on the edge of the room, looking at the city. He frowned hearing other voices. It was then he noticed a phone in your hand. “It’s fine. The guys are amazing you know? We are making Christmas dinner tomorrow.” 

“Oh, that’s adorable, sweety.” Your mother, what he assumed spoke. She had the same soft voice as you did. He could feel the longing for his only girl and he immediately felt bad for making you stay here. “How about Captain Rogers? I thought you’d ask him to join you for the show.” He froze and swallowed. Was he hearing right? Were you planning on asking him to join you for a while? 

“It’s fine… Am… He couldn’t.” You lied, not wanting to go into any details. “He’s…”

“A complete idiot!” You jumped hearing a voice behind you, almost dropping the phone. “A complete, utter moron!”

“Is this Captain America?” a what seemed to be a teenage voice called out. “Can I talk to him, sis?” 

“I’ll call you all back.” And not waiting for an answer you ended the phone, staring at the man in front of you. “What… What are you doing here?” 

“It's snowing.” He smiled, walking towards you. “I’m such a blockhead!” He chuckled and cupped your cheeks with his gloved hands.” You leaned into his touch, so happy to have him here. “I’m sorry, doll!” You shook your head and hugged him, burying your head in his coat. 

“I’m happy you came…” You whispered and not thinking about anything you leaned in and kissed him softly. “Look, Stevie, it’s snowing!” He chuckled, and kissed you back, thanking whatever gods there were, that you chose him to show the first snow.  

#justkendingwritingchallenge #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #christmas #but its snowing #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #You #reader #fanfiction #marvel #MCU fanfiction

[cherryrogers]

bittersweet {5}

pairing: boxer!bucky x rogers!reader

warnings: some angst, mentions of illness + death, swearing.

synopsis: The world of boxing wasn’t something you knew much about, but after a certain boxer with blue eyes and an irresistible charm wove his way into your heart, you soon learned that it went far deeper than red gloves and gold medals — you thought that the boxer happening to be your brother’s best friend was bad enough, but darker affairs had only yet to come to light.

a/n: ok so the story is lowkey gonna take a turn with this chapter, but i’m excited! italics indicate a flashback, and if you’re confused with some of the things going on, that’s ok! all things will be explained with time :) ,,, anyway, please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated.

Series Masterlist

Daylight poured through the blinds, and a groan of discomfort escaped your lips as your eyes blinked open. Lazily, you reached over to pick your phone up from the beside table, groaning again to see that it was only nine o’clock.

You’d stayed up until at least one in the morning watching the first two Star Wars movies with Steve, shocked that he had never seen any of the franchise in his twenty three years of living. Towards the end, you could see him growing more and more tired on the other side of the couch until he was passed out before the end of the second movie. If he hadn’t have had training early in the morning, you would’ve swatted him awake to see the end, but instead you decided to save the last twenty minutes to watch another time.

Steve didn’t say anything else about the ‘mystery guy’ you were seeing either, which you were thankful for. The guilt was setting in yet again, knowing that Steve was completely unaware that the guy you were talking about was indeed Bucky Barnes, but you pushed it away just like you always did. You would tell him eventually, you made a promise to yourself. Especially since things were really looking up with Bucky, you imagined that it couldn’t be kept a secret for much longer.

After prying yourself out of bed, you tugged on the hoodie that was slung over the back of the chair next to your dresser. Written on the back of it was the name of some random sports team, and you guessed it was one of your brother’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him when you were younger.

With a long yawn, you left your bedroom and began to plod downstairs, the sweet scent of chocolate-chip pancakes filling your nose instantly. Steve usually had training the next morning whenever you stayed over, but that didn’t stop him from making sure you had a tasty breakfast to wake up to. He’d always been a good cook, just like your mother. It was definitely a nice change from the cereal bars you usually opted for before rushing off to class or work.

The sizzling of the pancakes wasn’t the only sound coming from the kitchen, however. There was talking, and it seemed like Steve wasn’t in the kitchen alone. You paused your movement on the stairs, curiously listening in on what you could catch from the conversation.

“So, he was just outside? Not doing anything?” You heard your brother ask.

“Yeah, one of the guys said he saw him. Seemed pretty sure it was Rumlow.”

The other voice was too familiar. Christ, did that mean that Bucky was in your kitchen?

“Shit,” Steve sighed. “He shouldn’t be around here, Buck. D’you think he wants something?”

“I don’t know, but you had a deal with him. If he’s back, that must mean...”

There was a silence between the men, and your brows knitted together in confusion. What ‘deal’ were they talking about? And who was Rumlow? What did it mean if he was back?

“Look, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. We don’t even know if it was him for sure.”

“Steve,” Bucky pressed, a seriousness to his tone that you’d never heard before. “We can’t just sit around and hope that it wasn’t him. This could be dangerous—”

The sudden heavy slam of a cup on the counter made you jump, and your brother’s voice filled with frustration soon followed. “Well, what are we supposed to do? March down to his gym and ask him what his deal is?”

Bucky exhaled calmly. “No, of course not, but—”

“But nothing, Buck,” Steve interrupted, his voice quieter than before. “Look, I’ll cross this bridge with Rumlow when we get to it. My sister will be awake soon, and she can’t hear us talking about this.”

Well shit. There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest; this guy — Rumlow — sounded like someone that neither Steve or Bucky were very fond of. He was outside of somewhere... and one of the ‘guys’ saw him. Assuming ‘guys’ meant another boxer at the gym... oh. Were they talking about that guy? The guy that you unfortunately bumped into the day before? The one that knew Steve?

Bucky must’ve told Steve and changed the fact that it was his sister that saw the guy outside, but why didn’t he tell you who he thought the guy was? And what was so dangerous about him?

Hearing the conversation come to a close, you took that as your cue to walk down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen, causing both men to turn their attention towards you.

“Mornin’, kid,” Steve chirped, as if he wasn’t just having a heated conversation with his friend. He placed the final pancake from the pan onto the stack he’d already prepared before dousing them with golden syrup. “You hungry?”

“I could smell the pancakes from upstairs,” You moved over towards the counter, taking a seat on a stool next to Bucky and resisting the instinct to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Hi, J-Bucky.”

Bucky suppressed a smirk. “Hey, (Y/N).” The boxer glanced at Steve, who was in the process of putting the pancake ingredients away, his back facing the two of you. His eyes returned to you, nudging his shoe against your bare calf.

“You look cute.” He mouthed, eyeing you up and down, heart swelling slightly at the hoodie that was obviously Steve’s engulfing your body.

Biting back a smile, you mouthed back a playful ‘don’t I always?’ before directing your attention to your brother, who was placing the stack of pancakes in front of you.

“I’m just gonna grab my gym stuff from upstairs, then Bucky and I are heading out, is that alright?” The blond passed you a knife and fork as you gave him a nod, before pacing out of the room, his heavy footsteps on the staircase indicating to Bucky that it was safe to move his stool a little closer to yours.

There was still a level of discomfort in your chest; you were curious to know what they’d been discussing before you came into the kitchen and why you weren’t supposed to know about it. Bucky could sense your shift in demeanour as you clutched your knife and fork tightly, cutting a slice out of one of your pancakes and quickly bringing it to your mouth.

“You okay?” The boxer asked gingerly.

Swallowing the food, you hesitated for a moment. Pretending that you hadn’t heard their previous conversation wasn’t going to do you any good. Plus, if either Steve or Bucky was in some sort of danger, you hoped that Bucky would trust you enough to tell you what’s going on.

“Who’s...” You started, pausing your eating. “Who’s Rumlow?”

The soft smile that was comfortably sat on Bucky’s lips disappeared at the question. He could try to play dumb, pretend that he didn’t know what you were talking about. You weren’t stupid, though, and he respected you enough to not lie straight to your face.

His jaw clenched slightly. His name wasn’t something he ever wanted to hear in your voice. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that the guy sounds like a problem.” You continued on eating, eyeing Bucky questioningly after a few moments of his silence.

He let out a sigh, rubbing his jaw in thought. “He’s not someone you need to worry about.”

The statement made you narrow your eyes the the man. “You and Steve seemed pretty worried about him.”

“Well, you don’t need to be,” Bucky retorted, immediately regretting his too-harsh tone when he noticed a flash of hurt in your eyes. He didn’t mean it like that, fuck, of course he didn’t. But the whole situation to do with Rumlow... it wasn’t someone he wanted you involved in. “I’m sorry, babydoll. I didn’t mean—”

“No, I think I know what you meant,” You interrupted, your tone too calm for Bucky’s liking. “If you don’t wanna tell me, then don’t. But if it was the other way around and I was in danger, you wouldn’t let me leave the room until I told you what was going on.”

Bucky tightened his jaw, contemplating your words. You’re weren’t wrong; if he overheard you saying that you could be in danger, then he wouldn’t rest until he knew what was going on. He trusted that you wouldn’t tell a soul about the deal with Rumlow — what he didn’t trust was that you wouldn’t try to take matters into your own hands. Sure, you liked to wear pretty skirts, and you had all the colourful stuffed animals Bucky had won you at the carnival on display in your bedroom, and heat flooded your cheeks whenever he’d call you an endearing pet name; but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hand someone’s ass to them if you wanted to. He was just afraid that you’d underestimate how dangerous Rumlow and his clan of assholes really were.

Soon enough, your brother had returned to the kitchen and was motioning for Bucky to get going. The blond ruffled your hair as he said goodbye, much to your annoyance, before pacing out of the front door, leaving his friend around thirty seconds to begin to sort things out with you.

“What time do your classes end today?”

“Six, why?”

The boxer raised his hand, moving his thumb to the corner of your mouth to wipe away the drop of syrup there, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I’ll pick you up, alright? We can talk about everything then.”

You couldn’t help but relax into Bucky’s touch, nodding gently. “Alright, I guess. I’ll see you then.”

“Good.” He rose from his seat, grabbing his gym bag from the floor. A light kiss was pressed to your forehead before Bucky rushed out after Steve, and you were soon left alone in the house, anxious and confused.

If you’d asked Steve the same thing, he would’ve immediately shrugged you off. There wasn’t any way in hell that your brother would tell you about something that could possibly put you in danger. While you appreciated his concern, it bothered you that he didn’t think you could handle the things about life that weren’t so easy. Maybe you weren’t a six foot boxer with biceps bigger than your own head, but you were smart. That’s what you liked about Bucky; he could see that you weren’t a naive nineteen year old. After watching your mom get sicker by the day and ultimately losing her, your skin had thickened. You weren’t oblivious to the evil in the world after experiencing it first hand, and you weren’t sure that there was a lot more that could hurt you after being told that you were going to lose your mom, and that there was nothing anyone could do about it.

You hadn’t heard Steve so stressed in a long time, however. Whatever was going on with Rumlow, it had your brother’s mind whirring with worry.

You guessed you’d just have to find out later.

* * *

Steve had been on edge all day.

His muscles were more tensed, palms more sweaty, lips staying in a straight line, a smile never pulling at them.

All because of him — Rumlow.

It was only a matter of time before he worked his way back into Steve’s life, the blond knew he’d come back. It was part of their deal, after all.

The bastard wanted something. What that was, Steve wasn’t sure of, but if he could make Rumlow disappear as fast as he showed up again, Steve was going to do what he had to to make that happen.

Scorching water ran down the boxer’s body, an attempt to distract his thoughts from the man he despised so much. There was nothing he could do at that moment in time, all he could do was wait for Rumlow to make his first move.

After getting changed and towel drying his hair, Steve wrapped up his training for the day and left the building, about to make a beeline for his car, until the outline of a figure in the dark caught his eye; a figure leaning against the lamppost just opposite the gym entrance. Wisps of smoke swirled amid the fresh air from the tip of the dark figure’s cigarette, the scent alone causing the hairs on the blond’s arms to stand up.

He could recognise the smell of that shitty brand of cigarettes anywhere, and he’d only ever known one person that smoked them.

The figure noticed Steve eyeing him cautiously, and a dark chuckle escaped from their chapped lips.

“Steve fuckin’ Rogers. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The blond was reluctant to approach him, but Steve needed to know what this guy’s deal was.

“What the hell are you doin’ here, Rumlow?” A hard look spread across Steve’s face as he neared the brunet.

After taking one final puff from his cigarette, Rumlow flicked the stick to the ground and crushed it under his dirty boot. “Now, that’s no way to treat an old friend, is it?”

“Cut the shit, man.” Steve talked lowly, voice laced in anger. “What do you want?”

“You remember our deal, don’t you?” Rumlow crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, it’s time, Rogers. And the faster we get things done, the faster I’ll get outta your hair.”

Steve considered the man’s words. He’d been waiting a long time for Rumlow to finally give him an offer. An offer that would hopefully stop him from having to see Rumlow ever again. An offer that would cut all strings with him, and allow him to live without the weight of the deal on his shoulders.

Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, Steve darted his gaze around the area, making sure nobody else would hear their conversation, that it was only him and Rumlow.

“Alright.” The blond’s eyes turned to pierce into Rumlow’s dark ones. “Tell me what you want.”

* * *

It had barely been five minutes since your class ended, but you weren’t surprised to already see Bucky’s car parked on the sidewalk in your direct line of sight outside of the building. He always arrived early when he picked you up, never wanting to leave you waiting alone for long.

It was one of the little things about Bucky that you wholeheartedly appreciated.

Throughout the class, Natasha had noticed that something was off with you. You had been repeatedly clicking your pen in the quiet room, earning yourself a number of unhappy looks from those sitting around you. If you ever got nervous, you never usually showed it - Natasha knew well enough to know your confidence was a trait that guys tended to be attracted to. However, she’d never seen you so out of it, especially not when you were simply sitting in class.

When she asked you if everything was okay, all you could offer her was the most reassuring nod you could muster up. Natasha was normally the person you’d talk to about everything, but you knew that you couldn’t even mention the situation with your brother and Rumlow to her. If even you weren’t supposed to be apart of the secret, then you weren’t about to drag your best friend into it to.

You told her you’d call her the next morning, and by that time you’ll had hopefully made up a bullshit excuse about being ‘tired’ or ‘stressed with work’.

For now, you just needed to talk to Bucky.

Quickly approaching his car, you climbed into the passenger seat, the warm air in the vehicle easing your anxiety a little.

Natasha wasn’t the only one who’d sensed your nervous demeanour; Bucky could see it clear as day from the way you were clenching and unclenching your fists and nibbling on your bottom lip. It pained him, really. You were never meant to know about Rumlow, you just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And Bucky blames himself for that.

“I’m sorry.” He apologised suddenly, causing a furrow in your brows. Exhaling deeply, Bucky continued. “If I knew that Rumlow was making a reappearance around here, I wouldn’t have even let you-”

“Please don’t be sorry, James.” You shot him a pleading look, turning to face him as best as you could in the car seat. “It was just a shitty coincidence that I got off the bus at the same time he was stood outside of the gym. You can’t blame yourself for something you don’t have control over, so please don’t try to.”

Bucky wanted to argue with you; explain that you were at the gym for him, and that you wouldn’t have even ran into Rumlow if he didn’t invite you down to the gym once a week. But he knew you were stubborn, and that you wouldn’t back down until his ass stopped apologising.

So with a sigh, the boxer nodded and began the explanation that he’d been dreading all day, adjusting nervously in his seat.

“His full name is Brock Rumlow. Like he told you, he trains at a boxing gym across town. They compete in professional matches like every other place, our guys box against theirs from time to time.” Bucky’s eyes hesitantly meet yours. “But they’re more than just another boxing gym in New York. They’re... they’re part of a business - an illegal fighting ring. It’s nothing like boxing; it’s violent, brutal fighting where both guys barely make it out of a match alive. They have guys flown over from different gyms around the country, have them knock the shit out of each other while they egg ‘em on, and the champion... wins.”

You began nibbling harder on your bottom lip. “Wins what?”

“Well, they don’t care much about trophies and titles outside of boxing matches.” His voice wavered the smallest bit, as if even just thinking about his next words was difficult. “Stupid amounts of cash, drugs, girls, guns - it’s a dirty business, made up of some of the cruelest bastards on the planet.”

Though you hadn’t noticed it yourself, Bucky instantly recognised discomfort wash over your features. One of his hands came to rest just above your knee, his thumb grazing over the skin soothingly.

A number of thoughts and emotions had emerged inside of you as Bucky spoke; worry, sadness, rage. Trading off objects like money and drugs was one thing, but girls? Making them the prize of a fight and selling them to groups of men like they weren’t people?

The fact you’d spoken to Brock Rumlow himself for only two minutes made you uneasy. He’d had his hand on your arm; a hand that had probably inflicted great pain on others and accepted the cash for it like the sick son of a bitch he is.

“And Steve?” You hated how quiet your voice was, but it didn’t matter around Bucky. “Where does he tie into all of this?”

“I can’t tell you.”

You were about to object, but Bucky was faster than you when he intervened. “It isn’t common knowledge that that gym is full of criminals; if you know something, you’re a threat to them, and they don’t take too kindly to threats.”

The boxer moved his hand from your thigh to your own hand, interlinking it with his. His eyes locked with yours, and you weren’t sure you could pull your gaze away if you tried.

“(Y/N), I need you to understand how dangerous they are. The less you know, the safer you are. When this is all over, I’ll... I’ll talk to Steve; he should be the one to tell you everything else, his side of things.”

Bucky had seen Brock Rumlow destroy lives before. One of the boxers at his gym - Pietro Maximoff - had originally been part of Rumlow’s gym, just wanting to train and compete in matches one day like every other boxer. He eventually got sucked into the ring when the guy’s decided he was strong enough to fight in their matches. According to the man behind it all at Rumlow’s gym, Alexander Pierce, Pietro was one of the best fighters they had. So when Pietro rightfully wanted out after being subjected to bloody, agonising fights and watching as they exploited vulnerable women left and right, they weren’t planning on letting him go so easily.

They threatened him; they swore they’d find his sister and sell her off as a prize if he left. Pietro wouldn’t let them get the chance, however. He made sure his sister, Wanda, left the country and never came back. Made her change her identity and start a whole new life without him to make sure she was safe when Pietro inevitably left Rumlow’s gym.

Contacting the police was only a waste of time. He’d seen enough police officers come in and out of the gym, inspecting the place to see if they needed to launch an investigation into the ‘fighting ring’ they’d been rumoured to be running. Alexander Pierce wasn’t stupid, though. All records of contact with other gyms were erased regularly, girls were kept in private locations, illegally-won cash was laundered in places all over town...

To most of New York, they were just another boxing gym.

Luckily, they hadn’t ever found Wanda, but Pietro still had to live knowing he was an enemy to Rumlow, and that he’d probably never see his sister again for as long as she needed to be protected from him.

Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen to you. He’d help Steve hold up his end of the deal no matter what it was if it meant keeping Rumlow away.

“Can you take me home, please?” Bucky’s head snapped up at your hushed voice, your eyes no longer meeting his anymore.

He knew it must’ve been a lot to take in for you, but he didn’t want you to feel scared or unsafe; not with him. “Steve’s gonna be fine, you know.”

You scoffed quietly, your hand in his loosening. “He’s somehow involved with an illegal fighting ring that traffics guns and girls; how can you tell me that he’s gonna be fine?”

“Cause he’s Steve. He’s as tough as nails, you more than anyone know that.”

He was right, you did know that. You’d seen his strength with your own eyes more than enough times.

Only minutes had passed since the worst happened, the worst being losing one of the two people you loved most in this world. You could still hear the heart monitor slowing to a long, agonising beep. Your brother’s hands on your arms, pulling you away from the hospital bed with ease as any remaining energy you had left in your body drained out of you.

Steve had went to get you some water, while you were left to sit alone on one of the hard plastic chairs outside of the hospital room. Tears threatened to spill, to trickle freely down your cheeks. But you didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to sit alone and sob until you couldn’t breathe - you didn’t want to be sad because your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to be.

You didn’t want her to think that you were weak.

A figure sat down in the seat next to you, the scent of a familiar cologne making it obvious who it was. The cup of water in his hand was offered out to you, and you took it shakily. The cubes of ice peaking above the water and poking your lips weren’t nearly as cold as the iciness you felt in your heart.

Uncomfortable pain rose in your chest as you repressed the release of a sob. Steve could see the discomfort in your features, and didn’t hesitate to wrap a strong arm around your shoulders as you instinctively leaned into him.

“It’s okay to cry, kid.” He spoke lowly into the hair that had fallen in front of your face, shielding your tear glazed eyes from him. You shook your head immediately in disagreement, chewing roughly on your bottom lip in attempt to stop it from quivering.

“Don’t wanna cry.” You mustered out, the sob becoming harder to hold back. “Sh-she said that I have to be strong. Can’t c-cry.”

The blond exhaled slowly, tucking your hair behind your ear, making your eyes flick up to his. A crease was evident between his brows, frown lines faint on the corners of his mouth, jaw tensed. He was hurting just as much as you, you could feel it. “Strength isn’t suppressing your emotions, (Y/N). It’s accepting them, and learning how to cope with them so that you can carry on with life. That’s what she wants, kid; for you to keep moving forward.”

Your eyes drifted up to the cream door of the hospital room, blurry silhouettes of nurses moving around through the thin slate of glass. Honestly, you had zero clue whatsoever about how you were going to keep moving forward. This was your mom, your best friend, your rock through everything. You were sure it was going to be next to impossible.

But you wanted to be strong for her, to keep moving forward for her. And for Steve, because if the two of them believed you could keep going, then perhaps you really could.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek, and you didn’t reach up to wipe it away. You let it fall until another followed, and then another, and within seconds you finally let out a choked sob.

Steve’s arm tightened around your shoulders as you buried your face into his chest, all sounds around you being drowned out as you bawled your heart out.

“S’alright, kid. Let it all out.”

You truly looked up to your brother, in that moment more than ever. He was hurting so incredibly much, yet he didn’t let it show as you sobbed into his shirt. It occurred to you then that he was strong, probably stronger than you’d ever be.

And that was okay, because if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have known how to be strong at all.

The ride back to your apartment was silent, but comfortable. On your part, anyway. You could sense that Bucky was worried he’d completely unnerved you by telling you about Rumlow.

So when he pulled up outside of your building, you immediately undid your seatbelt and leaned across the center console of the car, pressing your lips to his needily. Needing to reassure him that you were okay, and that you were going to be okay.

The boxer reacted after a second, eventually bringing a hand to your face and cupping it gently. The kiss wasn’t heated in any way, but it was still filled with passion. With meaning.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen,” Bucky stated hurriedly after your lips parted. “To Steve, or to you.”

“I believe you, Bucky.” Bucky. He’d noticed you only called him that in the softer moments you shared, like when you’d first mentioned your mom to him, and when you were a little shaken from meeting Rumlow. He liked that it was more than just a nickname to you, like a term of endearment. “Steve and I will be okay, we always are.”

Bucky’s hand dropped from your face as you leaned back, beginning to leave the car.

“Call me tomorrow, okay?” You spoke softly, and the boxer nodded with a lazy smile on his lips, like a teenage boy talking to his high school crush. Jesus, he was done for.

“Course.” He reluctantly watched you step out of the car, not wanting you to leave him just yet. But it was late, and he was sure you wanted time to think about everything.

Before you closed the door, you leaned down to look at Bucky through the gap. “Goodnight, James.”

The man was sure that there were stars in his eyes as he gazed at you. “Goodnight, gorgeous.”

You shook your head at the pet name, ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks. With a shy wave, you shut the door and walked up to your apartment building.

Though those last few moments with you for the night had Bucky’s heart melting with adoration for you, he couldn’t help but still feel doubtful, nervous.

Bucky wasn’t a liar. He wasn’t lying when he said that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you or Steve.

Because if something did happen, he wouldn’t be sure how to live with himself.

* * *

Taglist:

@asgcrds @fiannaofficial @peterparkerbabyyy @bxrnsfeyson

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes reader insert #boxer!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #boxer!bucky #bucky barnes fluff

[fic-for-fic-sake]

First Date?

A/N: Okay so I wrote this in March during the beginning part of quarantine so keep that in mind while you read. I hope you enjoy it and as always; likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

“Natasha you cannot be serious.” You deadpanned, making a face at her over facetime. 

“I am! I read it in a Buzzfeed article, tinder is letting you swipe all over the globe to find a quarantine buddy. It’s a thing.” She pouted from her end of the line, cutting up vegetables for her lunch. 

“I mean that’s ridiculous, are people really dating over facetime? Is this what the world has come to?” You asked, flopping down on your bed. 

“I mean, life goes on, even if you can’t go outside. Besides, I think it would be good for you, you’ve been in quarantine for more than a week now and you can’t keep facetiming me. Find yourself a new buddy, it could be fun.” She retorted, popping a piece of chopped zucchini into her mouth before throwing the rest in the pan on the stove.  

“What are you making anyway? It sounds loud.” You responded, ignoring her observation. 

“Stir fry, want some?” She teased, letting you see the pan with everything in it that made your mouth water. Red pepper and zucchini along with broccoli, chicken, and beautiful white rice. 

“I wish we were together so you could cook for me.” You moped, feeling your stomach growl with the thought of food. When was the last time you ate again? It was hard to keep track when you couldn’t leave your apartment. 

“It’s not my fault you moved to Spain.” 

“It’s only for a year! And how was I supposed to know this would happen!” You yelled at her through the phone, you doubted it had the same impact because you were staring at her kitchen ceiling as she tended to her lunch. 

“Just think about what I said, I gotta go! I’ll call you back later.” She said, as she blew you a kiss and then hung up, leaving you to look at your own tattered reflection in your black phone screen. 

You sighed as you padded to your kitchen in sweatpants to grab a pint of ice cream you had been working on. You popped a spoon in your mouth and scrolled through your phone, looking for the article Natasha was talking about. Sure enough after opening the Buzzfeed app, you saw that people were indeed doing first dates over facetime. It didn’t sound like a terrible idea, you only really had to look presentable from the waist up and you did kind of miss dressing in normal people clothes. 

Spooning ice cream into your mouth you redownloaded the tinder app and started swiping through. People from all over the globe popped up on your phone. New York, London, San Francisco, Berlin, Seoul, and New Delhi. You swiped for longer than anticipated and got a few matches but none of them really panned out until you found one profile in particular. 

Steve Rogers, an artist from Brooklyn who worked at a law firm, interesting combination. His very first picture drew you in, dark blond almost brunet locks swept to the side, a full beard, and a killer smile. Okay, you were interested. You scrolled through his pictures to find one of him in a suit, presumably at work, another of him in a cream colored cable knit sweater looking out into the middle distance, and the last one was him standing shirtless on a beach, hair slightly shaggier and coffee mug in hand. Holy shit. He was gorgeous. You swiped right and nearly dropped your phone out of shock when it said that it was a match. 

No way. No way would this literal Adonis of a human being swipe right on you, but who were you to argue with the tinder algorithm. You got up to put your ice cream back in the freezer when your phone made a pinging sound. A message from Mr. Handsome himself. 

Steve: Hey

You: Hi

Steve: Madrid huh? What time is it there? 

You: A little after 9pm

Steve: What are you up to? 

You: Oh you know, the usual, staring at a wall because I can’t leave the apartment

Steve: Wow, it’s like I’m there with you. 

You chucked at his dry humor. You and Steve talked for pretty much the rest of the night before you told him you were going to fall asleep on him if you stayed up any longer. Before he let you log out for the night, he asked you on a date, over facetime. You smiled so hard you swore you tore a muscle in your face. You accepted his proposal and agreed to facetime tomorrow evening for you and tomorrow afternoon for him, so you could cook together. 

The next day you were freaking out, deciding what to wear. What does one wear to a facetime first date? This was uncharted territory for all parties involved and the internet, where you would usually go for advice, was no help either. Natasha advised just wearing casual clothing, and she was right. You didn’t want to look formal just sitting around your apartment, that would be weird. You decided on a pair of light wash jeans and a baby pink sweatshirt hoodie from Calvin Klein. You kept your hair down, a simple style. You decided against makeup because after the call ended you were just going to take it off anyway. Perfect, you looked good and casual, not like you hadn’t left your house in four days. 

You made sure you had all the ingredients in front of you for a simple dijon sauce and chicken. You were debating whether or not you should wear an apron when your phone rang, it was Steve. You propped your phone up against the wall before you answered. 

“Hi!” You exclaimed, adjusting the phone before you stepped back into the frame. 

“Hey.” Steve’s voice rang out through your empty kitchen. You took a minute to admire what he was wearing. A plain gray long sleeve shirt hugged his arm muscles and black jeans were on his legs. His hair was swept to the side and his beard was neatly trimmed, truly the picture of perfection. 

“Are you ready to cook?” You questioned, pointing your wisk at the camera which garnered a chuckle from him. 

“What are you making?” He questioned, as he opened the door to his fridge and began to root around for ingredients, giving you a perfect view of his lower half. You tried not to stare at the image of his perfect ass on the frame, instead focusing on lighting the stove and beginning to chop up some garlic. 

“Chicken with a dijon sauce.” You replied, brows knitted in concentration. “What about you?” 

“Funny, I’m making chicken noodle soup.” He replied, laying out his celery on the cutting board and also beginning to chop. 

“God this is strange.” You commented as you turned on your stove and put some olive oil in the pan. 

“Strange good, or strange bad?” Steve implored, putting the chopped celery aside and now moving on to the carrots. 

“Yeah, I haven’t decided yet.” You chuckled a bit as you threw your chicken breasts into the pan. “How many times have you made chicken noodle soup?” You wondered. 

“I’ve been making it for years, it’s my mom’s recipe.” He explained, a smile on his face as the memory. “It’s kind of a comfort thing and these days I’ll take comfort wherever I can get it.” 

“You and me both Steve.” You replied automatically, flipping the chicken in the pan. He laughed and the two of you made polite conversation as you continued cooking your respective meals. 

“Okay, you ready to eat?” He asked, ladling his soup into a cream colored deep ceramic bowl. 

“My mouth is already watering.” You jested as you plated up your chicken and broccoli and drizzled a healthy amount of sauce over the top of everything. You both went to each of your fridges and grabbed the same bottle of chilled white wine. You had both decided on Verdejo white wine on your suggestion that it was amazing. He said he trusted your recommendation. 

You sat at your plain kitchen table in your small apartment, looking into the phone and seeing he lived in less humble dwellings. You could see a beautiful large window with what you assumed showed a spectacular view of the city. He poured his wine into an intricate stemmed glass while you poured yours into a glass cup. You laughed. 

“What is it?” He questioned, a small smile playing on his lips. Oh how that smile took your breath away. 

“I just think it’s funny that I have a washing machine in my kitchen, my walls are yellowing, and I’m drinking wine out of a cup.” You said, gesturing to your surroundings. “While you are living in a beautiful apartment and have the perfect drinking vessel for your wine.” 

“Yeah but you’re only in Spain for a year right? Work with whatcha got.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, “I went to Romania with a friend of mine and we stayed in this little rundown shack with newspapers on the window and we didn’t have electricity.” 

“Wow Romania, what brought you there?” 

“I was commissioned to do a painting of the Romanian Athenaeum in Bucharest.” 

“Steve that’s amazing!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air, “you must be a really talented artist, why’d you switch jobs? 

“I didn’t so much as switch but take a backseat in art. I loved it but it didn’t pay the bills. When I first got to New York I was living on my friend Bucky’s couch, and months later he was kind enough to offer me a position at his law firm.” Steve explained, stopping intermittently to take spoonfuls of soup. 

“That’s incredible. I wish I could paint.” You added, putting a forkful of dijon chicken into your mouth. “But art was never my strong suit.” 

Before he could provide a response, he brought the wine glass up to his lips and your movements halted as he swallowed a few sips of wine. You wondered what he would think of your recommendation. After a beat he wore the biggest smile on his face. 

“Doll, this wine is amazing! How did you know about this?” He asked incredulously. 

You could feel yourself blush at the pet name but recovered quickly, “When I studied abroad in Barcelona I went to a few wine tastings and they always had Verdejo and it was always my favorite, hands down.” 

You and Steve seemed to have no problem coming up with things to talk about. Your dinner time had long since passed and now you were yawning every few sentences and you could feel your eyes drooping. 

“Looks like someone’s tired.” Steve teased, a soft smile playing on those petal pink lips of his. No matter how tired you were you could still feel the need to press your lips against his. After a few more yawns Steve insisted that you hang up and go to sleep which you did begrudgingly. Ten minutes later you sent him a picture of you in your pajamas and tucked under the covers of your small bed. To which he responded with a picture of his own, thumbs up and face beaming. 

You had to remind yourself to thank  Natasha for forcing you to do this tinder business in the first place.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfic #mcu fanfic #reader insert #avengers fanfic

[fanfiction4thesoul]

Ridge Farm

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: ~4.1

Warnings: Fluff and smut (18+ only), it’s soft and sleepy?-ish?

Summary: You’re visiting Roger at Ridge Farm. But your getaway takes a softer turn when you get there and realize how exhausted Roger really is.

A/N: I have no idea how I progressed from an angsty/fluffy one-shot to smut so quickly but oh well. This is my first time writing smut so I could really use some feedback on what you guys liked or didn’t. Thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on my first fic. I can’t tell you how unbelievably insane it was to see your reception. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fic too!

You check your reflection one last time in the rearview mirror before deeming yourself satisfactory. Roger invited you to join him for a weekend at Ridge Farm while he was recording his latest album, A Night at the Opera. He’s been gone for a month now and you were five shades past restless, well on your way to going crazy without him. 

You were busy all day getting things ready to leave before making the three hour journey to the farm. Roger wasn’t expecting you until sometime tomorrow morning, so you were hoping he would be happy at your early arrival.

When you opened up the front door to the house, there was no one there, though you could see the kitchen had dirty dishware strewn about it. Not seeing anyone anywhere in the house you go back outside and head to the barn. Immediately after opening the door, the sound of Roger playing the drums reaches you. Sitting at the sound desk is Freddie, smiling slightly, presumably at Roger behind the glass. Brian and John are on the sofa chatting until they see you enter.

“(Y/N)! So good to see you,” Brian says, standing up to hug you. You smile at him first, then turn to hug John and exchange a soft hello. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow?”

Before you could respond, Freddie spins around in his seat and bounds towards you. “She obviously came early to see our bright, shining faces. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

You grin wider. “Of course, Fred.”

Freddie pulls you into a hug and quietly whispers, “It’s truly good to see your smiling face here, darling.” Pulling away, he continues at a normal volume, “God knows we need you to cheer up our sulky drummer.”

He motions behind the glass where you can still hear Roger pounding away on the drums. However, now you can see the furrow of his brow as he focuses intently on his drums, not noticing anything beyond them. There are bags under his eyes and you can tell he seems frayed. Your face falls slightly as you bite your lip in worry. “Trouble with the album?”     A snort comes from Brian and you turn your attention to him in question. He lets out a sigh. “A bit too much tension and tempers in a short amount of time, I’m afraid to say. We were actually about to call it a day after Rog is done his bit. Figured the weekend would be a good time to cool down and regroup on Monday.” Nodding, you turn back to Roger.

You knew the boys considered each other family until the very end. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t fighting. Early into your relationship with Roger, he tried to hide the intense arguments and (seemingly) non-stop bickering that could happen at the studio. Once you finally got him to open up about it, he would come to you whenever it all became too much for him. You could empathize with him, make sure he knew his emotions were valid (but also give advice on places where he might want to back off or compromise) and most importantly, just be there in any way he needed you. 

You imagined the weekend as a fun getaway, but if Roger needed to detox then you’d be happy to pull him away and set him straight again. Walking away from the window, you stand in front of the door leading to Roger so he can’t see you through the pane. “Let me know when I can barge in there and steal him away. ‘Cause once I get him, I’m not letting him go.”

Freddie gives you a small nod and goes back to the sound desk with the technician. John sends you another smile, sitting back down with Brian and you lean against the door. Roger takes another 15 minutes to make adjustments to his part until Fred finally cuts him off. “Wonderful, Roger. I think we’re finally done for the day.” He gives you a side eye with raised eyebrows for a second then shooes you with his hands. Wrenching the door open with a grin, you startle Roger behind his kit. 

It only takes a moment for a smile to stretch across his face as well, as he quickly moves to envelope you in a tight hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply. “(Y/N),” he sighs softly. You just hum in response, moving your hands in soothing circles over his back. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow morning,” he pulls back after a few long moments, resting his hands on your waist.

“I know. But I wanted to surprise you. And this way we can spend some more time together. Are you happy?”

“Oh, dove, of course I’m happy,” he brings one of his hands up to cup your face. You gently lean into the touch. “I’m always ecstatic when you’re around.” 

“Good, ‘cause we’ve got big, big plans of doing a whole lotta nothing this weekend. Sound good?” 

He laughs and gives you a crooked smile. “Only because I get to do it with you.”

“Roger Taylor,” you giggle, “you’re a hopeless romantic. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He pinches your waist making you squeal, moving away from him. He doesn’t let you get very far, bringing you back into his warm embrace. “You can’t let the secret out, dove. I’ve an image to maintain.”

“Alright, alright. Now come on. The first part of your relaxing weekend is a nice dinner. I made a lasagna and brought you guys some more groceries.”

You lead him out to your car where he helps you unload the food, bringing it into the kitchen. The rest of the boys are milling about so you make them unpack and put things away while you work on cleaning up the mess they left from breakfast. You pop the lasagna in the oven to heat up. Before you know it, you’re all sat around the table eating while the boys catch you up on all their antics they’ve gotten up to.

Roger is unusually quiet, though he still chimes in every so often to add to a story. Now that he’s finally sat down and started to rest, you can see his tiredness gradually creep up. Small yawns escape him even as he attempts to cover them up. Throughout dinner, you make sure to grab his hand as much as possible and brush your shoulders together. You try to convey that you’re there for him. He squeezes your hand every time you take his, so you think he got the message. 

As you near the end of dinner, you decide not to dawdle around the table and try to get Roger up to bed as soon as possible. Right after everyone is done eating and the last story comes to a comical close, you stand up.

When you start to clear the table to do the dishes, John waves you away. “We’ve got this (Y/N). You’ve already cleaned our mess up.”

“And you cooked,” Brian adds.

“Besides,” Freddie says, “I think Rog is getting a little peckish over there, if you know what I mean.”

“Oi!” Roger yells.

“I tell it like I see it, darling. Now, the rest of us are heading into town for some drinks. You’re welcome to join us, but I think you might enjoy the empty house more.” He gives you a wink. 

“Thanks Fred, but I think we’ll pass tonight. You boys have fun. C’mon Rog.” You grab his hand and drag him up and away from the table before he can get too agitated with Freddie’s joking. He leads you up the stairs and shows you his bedroom. You collapse on the bed, Roger following right behind you.

His hand finds yours and he grips it tightly. He rubs circles with his thumb as you listen to the rest of the boys putter around for a short while. It’s nice to have a quiet moment with Roger. The phone calls you’ve been sharing with him for the past month don’t last as long as you want. And Roger tries to limit what he says over the phone in case one of the boys overhears. The distance has made you yearn for these softer moments where you can simply relax in each other’s presence.

You hear the boys move around more in this creaky old house. They come up and down the stairs a few times. Once you hear the door slam shut and the house is quiet you sit up and look down at Roger.

He startles a little having dozed off a bit. When you run your hand through his soft hair, he closes his eyes again, relaxing at your touch and making you smile. You know he’s pretty tired, even if he won’t admit it. So you have a plan to make him relax even more. 

“Why don’t we take a bath, love?” 

He hums in response, deflecting your suggestion so you decide to get up and search for the bathroom. Sure enough, Roger groans as soon as your hand leaves him. “No. Love. Come back,” he whines. 

Laughing in the hall as you start opening doors, you yell back, “You have to get in the bath if you want my hands!” That’ll probably be incentive enough for him to get up and follow you.

You finally find the bathroom and start running the water. When the tub is almost full, you hear him groan loudly. He shuffles his way into the bathroom with a fake pout on his face.

“Alright, I’m here.”

“You are indeed,” you smile. You put your hair up and start to strip away your clothes, then turn to Roger to help with his as his sluggish movements impede his progress. He steadies you as you get into the tub then you lean against the back. Normally you’d be the one cradled in Roger’s arms when you bathe together, but you hope this position will help loosen the stress from his body. “C’mon, love. Tonight’s about you.” 

He climbs in at your coaxing, leaning back against you, sighing as he does so. You comb your fingers through his hair again while your other hand intertwines with his. 

You stay that way for a long while, quiet conversation occasionally filling the comfortable silence. He wants to know what you’ve been up to, even if it is rather boring. With each drag on your hand through his hair, you feel him slowly ease into your touch until he’s resting his whole weight on you. A spark of satisfaction runs through you knowing that you’re able to get Roger to such a state. 

When you notice the bath water beginning to cool dramatically, you know it’s time to get out. You squeeze his hand and whisper to him to sit up. And he does, though reluctantly. He points out his shampoo when you ask and you start massaging some into his long hair.

You take your time, rinsing out the suds and then combing the conditioner through his strands, working out any tangles you’re met with. Roger remains soft and pliant the entire time, giving out hums of content every now and then. After you finish his hair and use a washcloth to wash the rest of him, you press a kiss to the center of his back. You start trailing a line of kisses up his back towards his shoulder until you can hook your chin around him. He turns to give you a sweet kiss.

“Why don’t we go lay in bed,” you say.

“What about you, love?”

You smile at him, “No need to worry about me. I showered this morning. Let’s go.” You stand up, grabbing towels for the both of you.

“How’d you find time to shower between shopping, baking lasagna, and driving all the way here?” He asks as he wraps a towel around himself. 

“I’m just magical like that.” You say, walking towards his room.

Once you’re both dry, you collapse back on Roger’s bed. You expect him to lay beside you again, but instead he rolls until he’s half on top of you with his head on your chest and his legs tangled with yours. Giggling a little at his antics, you rub your hand up and down his back soothingly. 

“Hmm, you’re so comfy. And warm.” He snuggles a little further into you, bringing his free hand up at the same time to grab the boob he’s not resting his head on. He holds it firmly but otherwise does nothing else.

“Whatcha doing there, hun?” you ask, slightly amused. 

“Jus’ feeling.” 

You almost believe he’s being innocent enough until he decides to squeeze your breast and lightly run his thumb over your nipple, making your hand on his back stutter. Glancing down at him, his eyes are closed and his face carefully blank. He continues to repeat the action, though, and you can’t help the breathy whimper that escapes your lips. “Somethin’ wrong, love?”

The tone is level, but you can hear his light teasing behind it. He knows how bothered you’re getting but doesn’t do anything more. The only way you know he’s reacting at all is the growing hardness you feel pressed against your side. Deciding to play along, you resume your motions on his back.

“No,” you breath, trying to make your voice sound steady. It doesn’t sound the least bit convincing, especially since his slow torture makes more whimpers fall out. This month apart has made you absolutely weak. You feel like a hormonal teenager again, getting worked up from such tiny touches. 

Just when you’re ready to burst and ask for more of anything, Roger turns his head and slowly sucks your nipple into his mouth. He nips it playfully, causing you to throw your head back with a low moan. “Roger…” You bring the hand on his back up to tangle in his hair, gently pressing him further against you. He hums as he keeps flicking his tongue across you, sending delicious tremors running through your body. “Don’t start things you can’t finish,” you say as your breathing begins to speed up.

He releases you with a wet pop before looking at you. His eyes are hooded and he’s got a small smirk making its way across his face. “Who said I wasn’t finishing this?” He brings his lips to your neck, sucking right below your ear. You lean your head to the side, giving him more access. He takes the invite, trailing kisses down your neck and mouthing at the junction to your shoulder.

You moan under his assault, but manage to whimper out, “You’re supposed to be relaxing… letting me take care of you.” You already mentally reworked your plans for the weekend, thinking Roger would be too tired for any fun times. Which is fine, truly. But this is Roger and you really should have known better than to think he’d ever be too exhausted for sex.

“I am relaxed. And you are taking care of me. But I’m also taking care of you. Will you let me, honey?” As he speaks against your throat he moves his hand from your breast, trailing teasingly over your stomach and finally coming to rest on your mound. 

He brings his fingers through your folds, collecting the wetness gathered there. You moan but he keeps just out of reach from slipping in. “I need an answer, darling.”

“Yes! God, Roger…” You squeeze your eyes shut and grip his hair hard as he pushes two fingers in as soon as the words leave your mouth. He kisses you sweetly to swallow up your noises. 

The tiredness Roger exudes manifests in all his actions. Despite how hot and worked up he’s making you, his kiss is relaxed and passionate. His tongue drags across yours in a mirror of his hand, leisurely building up your arousal. 

Suddenly he grinds his pelvis into your thigh and he groans into your mouth. You can feel some of his pre-cum smear across your leg. As you’re deliriously thinking about the benefits of falling into bed already naked, Roger brings his thumb to circle your clit while his fingers continue to pump into you. “Rog…”

“You’re so hot, honey,” he says moving to nibble your ear. “I could do this for hours and never get tired of it - of the sounds you make.” As if to emphasize his point, he presses harder onto your clit, making you mewl in pleasure. He keeps whispering into your ear while he adds another finger but keeps the pace deliberately slow. His hips continue grinding gently into your side, breaking up his dirty words with quiet grunts.

It’s so good but it’s not enough to get you over the edge you’ve been inching towards. “Rog… I need…” 

“What do you need, honey?”

“More,” you moan when he flicks his thumb just right.

“Hmm, you need to be more specific, honey. More what? More kisses?” He gives you chaste little kisses, lips barely brushing. Before you can pull away to tell him to stop teasing, he distracts you by swiping his tongue through the seam of your lips, pushing his way into your mouth. 

It’s Roger who eventually moves away, taking the fingers in your cunt with him. You gasp at the empty sensation and buck your hips trying to bring him back. “No, Roger… what are you doing?” He presses down on your pelvis keeping you in place.

“Oh I’m sorry, darling! I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to keep going.” His words are dripping sarcasm and he’s smirking at you lazily. The thumb that was on your clit now circles your lower stomach making you ache desperately. Despite depriving you of any stimulation, his hips carry on with their movements against you.

You groan in exasperation. “You should be too tired for this much teasing.”

“Never, love,” he says, leaning in. You close your eyes in anticipation, but after a moment of nothing, you open them back up. Roger’s a hair's breadth away from your lips, smirk in place. “I still haven’t heard what you want, love.” His tone is taunting and you know he’ll let this drag out for as long as it takes. You’re positively throbbing, clenching down on nothing and it makes your next words spill out.

“More pressure.”

His smirk widens. “What’s the magic word, love? Hmm? You should know if you’re so magical.”

“Please! Roger, will you just- ” You’re cut off as Roger pushes all three fingers back into your cunt, thumb pressing firmly on your clit. You throw your head back in a silent scream. 

“That’s it, honey. Taking my fingers so well. Promise I’ll get you there.” Roger manages to keep his stream of filth going between wet kisses he places under your exposed jaw. He quickly brings you to edge with the steady circles of his thumb. All it takes is a well timed thrust coupled with a deft flick on your clit that has you flying into your orgasm.

Roger’s name tumbles from your mouth as your spine arches off the bed, chasing the sensation his fingers leave you with. He works you through your high, his pace never faltering, even after you come down. You’re a panting mess when he finally pulls his fingers away. 

You watch breathlessly as he brings his hand up to his lips and licks them clean without breaking eye contact. They come out of his mouth with a soft pop when he finishes, groaning as he does so. “Never tasted anyone as sweet as you, honey.”

You move some of his sweaty hair out of his face as you smile gently at him. “Now it’s my turn.” You trail your free hand down his chest towards his weeping cock. His thrusts against you had stopped, though you’re only noticing now. His cock is still pressed flushed to your side, though, and you feel slightly guilty at neglecting it. You want to make him feel good too. 

Before your hand can skim past his stomach, he catches it with his own.

He brings your hand up and gives a soft kiss to your fingers. “As much as I love these hands, it’s not what I want tonight.” His voice is soft, if not a little strained, but so full of love. “Turn over, dove.” He moves back enough to give you room to turn on your side and face away from him.

An arm wraps around your waist and brings you flush against his chest. Helping you get into position, he bends your top leg and tucks his own behind it. The new angle has his cock rubbing against your folds. You both moan at the sensation.

Suddenly, Roger’s hand is on your chin turning your head to stare up at him. “I’ve not had the chance tonight to tell you how utterly in love I am with you. You’re so good to me, dove.” His eyes are so gentle. He strokes his thumb over your cheek and you can’t help but close your eyes at the loving gesture.

“I love you, too, Roger.” You smile up at him brilliantly before twisting a hand in his hair to bring him down for a sweet kiss. As your mouths move against each other he starts rolling his hips, moving his shaft between you.

A groan leaves him as he pulls away. “I can’t take it anymore, I need to be inside you. Are you ready, dove?” He lines himself up and waits for your breathy confirmation before slowly pushing into you. 

His loud groan fills the room and you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of being so full. After weeks of being away it takes you a few moments to get use to his size again. Roger patiently waits until you roll your hips, giving him silent permission to start moving.

He slowly starts pumping in and out of you, completely unhurried in his motions. His pace is slow and steady, punctuated with firm thrusts that hit beautifully inside you, making you cry out his name. 

You clench and unclench your hand in his hair, sometimes pulling the strands a little too hard, but releasing a small growl from Roger. Despite his measured pace, the hand not propping him up is moving all over your body.

He takes time to tease each nipple, giving enough attention to them that they feel sore from the constant tweaks and pinches. He traces through your navel causing your stomach to flutter and your heat to clench hard around Roger. 

His hips stutter as he swears in your ear. “Christ, (Y/N).”  He’s putting your senses into overdrive and all you can do is hold on tight as you try not to drown in the sensual sensations.

Roger repeats the motion over your stomach before moving on to grip your hip. Guiding your movements slightly, he helps you grind back against him. One particular roll has you seeing stars when it falls in time with Roger’s thrust. 

“Roger… I’m close,” you breath, gripping his hair tighter before moving it to grip the hand on your waist. You’re barrelling towards the edge again at lightning speed, probably because you’re still sensitive from your first orgasm The pace remains the same, however, and you can’t decide whether to curse or thank God that you fell in love with a drummer. 

But then the steady motion falters. “Me too, darling.” He moves his hand from under yours and lands on your clit. You cry out a choked moan, gripping his wrist in a vice. “Go on, honey. Let go.” His words, combined with everything else he’s doing to your body, has you clenching for the second time that night.

You scream Roger’s name once, throwing your head back into his chest behind you. You’re afraid you might break his wrist if you squeeze it any tighter. With a low moan, Roger’s hips rut into you one more time before you feel him spill inside you. 

You groan again, the heat of him filling you up sending aftershocks through your body. Both of you are panting heavily and you feel Roger drop his head behind you, snuggling into your neck. His hand wraps around yours, bringing them to rest on your stomach.

“I love you so much, honey. I’m so glad you’re here.” Roger still sounds breathless as he puffs the words out.

You sigh in content, closing your eyes. He responds to your hand squeeze in kind and gives a whimper as you involuntarily clench around his soft cock still inside you. “There’s no place I’d rather be more, Rog. I love you, too.”

He hums softly in your ear, breathing starting to even out. You feel yourself quickly following, but not before thinking one last time how lucky you are to be loved by Roger.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfic #queen #roger taylor smut

[hardyshoe]

benefits- a roger Taylor series

part four

warnings- pregnancy and language

a/n; another chapter? yes indeed, I have far too much time on my hands and I enjoy writing this series even though its not any good. 

*phone ringing*

 “hello, is this miss y/l/n?”

“yes it it”

“just calling to confirm your appointment today at 2.”

“uh yeah thats good”

“wonderful we’ll se you later then”

you'd been waiting for the call for the last week, no earlier appointments were available. so in the meantime you'd been alone, well not quite you had the company of the baby but judging by your guesses it could only be about 6 ish weeks old. it felt funny knowing there was a little thing inside of you and found your hands resting on your still flat stomach from time to time.

 mary had promised to come with you to the doctors, she’d been wonderful the last few days and stayed true to her promise of not telling anyone. she came around one thirty to pick you up and the two of you made your way the the hospital on the tube.

 it took everything in you not to hurl at the smell of the cheese and onion crisps the man next to you was eating. your stomach had been awful, not letting you keep a thing down other than plain popcorn and celery. this caused you to loose a bit of weight and you'd fainted the day prior from hunger. it wasn't good for you or the baby but you couldnt keep throwing up four times a day.

 the waiting room of the clinic was full of women with their husbands cradling round stomachs and ultrasound pictures, your heart longed to be like that with roger. you had to stop thinking like that it wasn't doing you any good. a little boy ran up to you and Mary wanting to show off his action figures and you'd normally have played along but for some reason the exited look in his eye made you want to cry. the boys mother came and took him away and apologised to you just as your name was called.

 “miss y/l/n please.”

 smoothing your shirt as you stood up you began to walk over to the exam room where everything would be 100% confirmed, no doubt. 

 “good afternoon miss, I'm doctor Maria. how are you?” she had a smile on her gentle face which calmed you down a little.

“im not great if I'm being honest, I can't keep any food down and I've never Benn more restless”

 “well thats very common, the sickness should subside at about 12 weeks. and is the father here?”

 that question. you knew it would come at some point but you didn't know how to answer. thankfully Mary saw the pained look in your eyes and stepped in, “he actually doesn't know and its not a good time to tell him unfortunately”

“thats alright, no worries. now y/n when was your last period?”

“oh um I actually don't know, id not really keep track. maybe a couple moths ago”

 “well we can probably get a good idea from the scan so take a seat and we’ll take a look”

 you were a little reluctant in your movements but soon eased into the exam table, happy to rest for a bit.

 “cold gel alright?” you nodded and hissed at the coolness on your abdomen.

 it was silent at first but after a minute a sound like a train ripping past filled the room, and a blurry grey image popped up on the monitor. you couldn't tell what was meant to be what and for a while no one said anything, the doctor looked like she was seeing something that neither you or Mary were.

 Mary could see you were panicking a bit and asked the doctor what was wrong “is everything alright? you look worried”

“oh yes everything’s alright, y/n how far along do you think you are?”

“um 6 weeks maybe?” you were going solely of when you and roger last fucked and you'd read somewhere it takes a week or so for the egg to get fertilised and settle, though really you had no idea.

“ right well your actually about 11 weeks along”

“what!?” that seemed impossible. if that were true then you had been pregnant nearly three months and roger had knocked you up a while before he left.

“yeah I'm surprised you haven't started to show yet” 

this confused you as you were under the impression women didn't normally start showing until the second trimester. Mary spoke up and seconded your thoughts.

“well yes that is normally the case but if you look here,” she moves the scanner on your stomach and pointed to something unrecognisable on the screen. “theres actually two babies in there”

 you went blank at her words. sure you could handle one baby on your own, it was an even match but two? there was so much going on in your head. if roger wouldn't accept one how the hell would he want two. how would you afford two babies on your small income. where would two babies and their things fit in you tiny one bedroom flat? and how on earth wo-

“y/n? did you hear me?”

“huh? no I'm sorry I zoned out” your throat was dry and you wanted to cry again.

“I said its too early to tell the genders but they are both healthy and keep eating as much as you can. you should start showing in a few weeks and I’ve booked you in for an appointment at 20 weeks so ill see you then”

that was it, you left the doctors office and went home on the tube with Mary. neither of you said anything, there was nothing to be said. the whole situation just got a hell of a lot more intense; not only were you basically at the end of your first trimester but you were having twins, and roger didn't even know you were pregnant. fuck why couldn't you just stop thinking about him, he didn't care, probably hadn't even crossed his mind.

-a few weeks later-

the doctor was right, you did start showing and rather rapidly. you'd had to go buy new cloths already and sleeping was getting more uncomfortable. on the bright side though your morning sickness had subsided and you'd even felt a few kicks from the babies at about 16 weeks. you were 19 weeks along now and nearing the next appointment, you'd find out the genders of the babies you actually gotten very attached to. you were careful with what you ate and avoided anything dangerous to yourself, this included lifting heavy things so despite the want you couldn't rearrange your flat to make it more homely.

 roger still hadn't called, you resented him for it. he didn't know of course how could he? but you longed to pick up the phone to him cheeky voice again. the radio no longer got played in your flat because every time you turned it on one go queens would play and you'd start crying. they were over half way through the tour and when they got back you be coming up to seven months along, the thought made you shudder. you were already big and by then you be huge. but if everything went to plan he'd still have no idea.

 through it all Mary had been a saint, she brought you groceries and cloths when you continued to outgrow the new ones. you didn't want to leave the house for fear of bumping into someone, having the conversation about the father and how far along you were was just a bit too much, god back on roger again.

it was all a bit much to be honest and soon enough you'd start nesting and then all of what little savings you had would be gone on baby things. in two days you'd be 20 weeks, halfway through and it seemed like you'd never make it. not with the amount of times you doubted yourself or told yourself you wouldn't be a good mother or that you mess up and wouldn't be able to handle it. the time was going a little too fast for you to keep up.

#roger taylor smut #roger taylor series #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor #queen band #brian may #john deacon #Fred Mercury

[padfootagain]

The Suit

Here we go with a new cute little thing!! It is the last one-shot for my celebration, for the next two days, I will be updating two series you have voted for. I do hope I have managed throughout these 5 fics to bring a little bit of fluff and softness into your week. In case I had not succeeded so far, maybe this one will do the trick ;)

I have 0 respect for Canon in many fandoms (okay, all fandoms, to some extent) but especially when it comes to the MCU. Everybody lives, everybody is happy, the Avengers live together and the sky is full of rainbows! So… cute things ahead for Steve Rogers :)

I hope you like this, tell me what you thought about it!

Gif not mine (enjoy the eyelashes… argh, why is he like this?)

Word Count : 3941

When people picture the interior of the Avengers headquarters, they imagine some kind of large hangar filled with training rooms. Advanced weaponry on display in some of these rooms too, target practice, and large spaces where the Avengers can train and learn new fighting moves. Some might also imagine the Avengers' personal quarters, a kitchen, a large living room where all can gather and eat some Chinese food, maybe a room where they all can watch a good movie together too, a large bedroom for each of them and offices too were they can work on the intel sent to them.

And to this entire description, although one would gather a vague image instead of a real glimpse at the inside of the most secret building in the world (or at least one of the most secret buildings, for sure, although we must all admit that many labs in Wakanda are even more wrapped in shadows), this person listing the inside of this fortress would be right. At one major detail… or well, three, actually.

This enlightened person would have forgotten the library, for one, large and composed of an eclectic collection of novels, thesis about nuclear physics and comic books, was right between the movie room as the Avengers called it, and the offices.

Also, there is a miniature hospital in the base of the Avengers. They call it the infirmary, but it contains everything needed to heal any kind of wound they could sustain on the battle-field, and some of the most recent pieces of equipment would make even Dr Strange blush out of envy.

But the most important set of rooms that one would have forgotten are the labs. Scattered throughout the buildings, and yet vital for the heroes. Who makes the suits? The weapons? Who collects the intel? Who improves their defensive accessories? Who analyses the clues the Avengers find throughout their missions?

Obviously, the busy team of researchers and engineers working at the base.

And while you could hear the characteristic detonations of Natasha, Bucky, Sam and Clint training at firing, you were yourself stuck with a very hard problem to solve.

On your desk, what was left of Captain America's suit laid splayed so you could examine the damages the explosion had caused. He was okay, thanks to luck, his super-soldier organism and a little bit of patching up. A week after he was back from his mission, he was apparently completely healed already.

His suit, however, was still just as damaged as it was at its return from the field.

You heaved a sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. If one had told you, back at University, that your PhD in chemistry would be put to use to help a bunch of super-heroes, you would have laughed at their faces. And yet…

You heard a knock on the door of your office, but you didn't need to look up to know it was Peter Parker. You had recognized the knock already.

"Hi, Dr. Y/L/N!" He beams at you as he steps into your office and closes the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes at the teenager.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Y/N. I’m not that old! Besides, everyone does."

"Captain Rogers doesn’t."

"Yeah, but that’s because he’s old fashioned on a few things."

Peter grinned.

"You know, Natasha has another theory, and it’s a very different one."

"And what could that theory be?"

"Better let her explain it to you," he eluded the question. "What’s that?" he added, nodding at the pile of burnt and torn fabric on your desk that really didn’t look much like a uniform anymore.

"It’s Captain Rogers’s suit. I’m supposed to make an improved one for him."

"Cool! Your suits are always comfortable and efficient. Do you have any ideas yet?"

"None whatsoever."

"I guess he won’t need a new suit before the party. I hope nothing calls for it, at least. So you have a couple of weeks."

"What party?"

"There’s a big party in a couple of weeks. Everyone working here will be invited, I guess Pepper simply hasn’t sent the invitations yet. You’re gonna come, right? That would be awesome!"

"Well… if we’re all invited, then I guess…"

"Nice!"

You exchanged a smile. Something told Peter, and not his Peter tingles, another sense, a sense that was growing sharper and sharper ever since he and MJ were together, that Steve Rogers would be happy to learn that you would attend the party…

"But I doubt that you were coming here to talk about suits and parties, now, were you?"

His smile was back on his face.

"I have a new idea for my web fluid. But I need your expertise. Can you help?"

You let out a chuckle as you stood up and walked towards the door with a pen and your notebook.

"Of course. Come on, tell me all about it."

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

 After a few sleepless nights for you and your team, the new suit was finally ready. The tests showed a major improvement in terms of heat responses, you hoped it would protect Captain Rogers efficiently for his next mission.

The advantage of being the head of a scientific team in the Avengers HQ was that you could go to their part of the buildings and give them their new suits, weapons and other gadgets yourself. You had grown quite fond of most of the team along the years too, which made the trip out of your lab particularly enjoyable.

You wandered off from room to room, passing before the fighters training in various methods of combat. You also came across Tony and Peter watching Morgan’s favourite Disney movie with her, and you asked them about the Captain's whereabouts.

"I think he went to the gym with Sam and Bucky," Peter answered, his voice distorted by the handful of popcorn he had shoved in his mouth.

"Because obviously gym is useful to him," Tony added in his usual teasing and yet casual tone over the loud music of Be A Man. "I’ve always thought he was short in muscles."

Meanwhile, Morgan was shouting the lyrics and was now standing on the sofa, mimicking the fighting moves of Mulan.

"BE A MAN!"

"What are you looking for him for, anyway?" Tony went on over the loud singing of his daughter. "You need a coach for the gym?"

You laughed in response.

"No, we’ve finished a new suit for him, so I’m bringing it to him."

"YOU MUST BE SWIFT AS A COURSING RIVER!"

"You guys even do the delivery part for free? Amazon might have reasons to worry."

Peter had now joined the little girl for the rest of the chorus, and he and Morgan were both singing at the top of their lungs.

"WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A GREAT TYPHOON!!"

"Well as I said, he’s at the gym," Tony went on, still focusing on you instead of the two kids by his side. "Lifting heavy things and stuff. He’ll be happy to see you."

"What do you mean?" you asked back with a frown.

"WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF A RAGING FIRE."

Tony merely chuckled and gave you a knowing look. Although you didn’t know what the knowing in the look was about, you oblivious little thing…

"He’s always happy to see you, Y/N."

"MYSTERIOUS AS THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOOOOOOON!!!"

Tony’s gaze finally drifted back towards the two kids on the sofa, a tender smile soothing his features.

"I think she has a chance to become a superstar," he told you, pointing at Morgan. "That’s pure talent we have here. It’s not the same for the other guy over there of course, but everyone can’t be gifted."

"Hey! I don’t sing that badly!" Peter protested from his end of the couch, making both you and Tony laugh.

You thanked Tony for his help, and he waved at you in response, along with giving you a wink that seemed to carry a silent message, but you failed to understand it. Instead, you continued your journey through the HQ (but not without Morgan giving you some popcorn in support for your noble quest first, of course), and walked to the gym with a light trot and humming the tune of Mulan’s songs.

Indeed, you found Steve right where Tony had told you he would be. At the gym. Sam and Bucky were there too, but the three friends seemed on their way out. Sam and Bucky were talking (or well, bickering was a better word to describe any of their interactions, really) near the door while Steve was picking up his stuff…

… and for some reason he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Or a T-shirt. Or any piece of fabric whatsoever that would cover his torso, the skin glistening slightly with a thin layer of sweat.

No matter how uncomfortable you felt, you couldn’t help but stare.

The three of them turned to you as the door loudly closed behind you, and you all remained motionless for a moment. And for a short moment, time seemed to stop as the four of you each reacted differently to the scene unfolding around you.

You were standing, frozen, in front of the door, your package still safely in your arms as your lips parted without you noticing, and you wondered about the ratio between his biceps and your thighs…

Bucky and Sam were motionless as well, simply because they were trying not to laugh as they watched the silent scene playing between you and Steve.

Steve was still, stopped mid-movement, holding his towel in one hand and a bag in the other. And his mind was currently wondering how it would feel to touch your cheek…

He was the first to shake himself out of his thoughts, and you were rather grateful for it, as you reckoned that you wouldn’t have been able to break free on your own.

“Dr. Y/L/N. What can we do for you?”

You forced your brain to work again and your stare to leave his torso to rest on his intense blue eyes instead. How could he have such long eyelashes?

"Actually, I… hmm… I’m the one who can do something for you. I’ve finished your suit," you added, handing him the suit although you were unable to cross the room to give him the package. You didn’t trust your legs enough, they felt like they were made of soft cotton instead of bones and muscles.

"Oh, thank you," he gave you a bright smile, throwing his towel on his large shoulder and striding to you.

You reckoned that it was rather rare to see a genuine, bright smile on his features. Little smiles, yes. But large ones? Not so much. You guessed that he was very happy to get a new suit. Or perhaps the source for such happiness blooming in him was the person who brought the suit… but you didn't know that, by then.

He took the suit wrapped in kraft paper, his smile still on his lips. You noticed how flushed he was, you guessed it was because of the gym session he had just finished. You couldn’t know that your assumption was only partly true. There was another reason for him to blush up to the tip of his ears. That reason was standing right before him.

"Are you coming tomorrow night? At the big party?" he softly asked.

"Yes, I am. All the lab was invited, and most of us are coming."

"Have you found your plus one yet?" Sam jumped in the conversation.

"Oh, no. I’m coming alone. I mean, it’s not like I need support, I’m going to see my friends there so… no need to pretend."

Sam gave Steve a pointy look. Which his friend ignored.

"Are you bringing someone?" you inquired in a friendly tone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. He doesn’t though," he added, nodding towards Steve.

You turned to Steve again. He tightened his grip on the suit, and shrugged, a shy smile on his lips.

"As you said, no need to pretend tomorrow."

You stared at each other for a couple of seconds, that seemed to stretch into minutes. And the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you hoped to see him the next evening, how wonderful you thought he was and… Gosh, he had gorgeous eyes…

But you couldn't do that.

"Well, I’ll see you all tomorrow then. Have a nice day," you hurried the words out of your mouth so you could stride out of the room before your reason would yield in favour of your heart, and you would spoil everything.

The second the door had closed behind you, Sam was chuckling.

"You know, it ain't that hard to ask her out. You had the perfect opportunity. You just had to ask ‘Y/N, would you like to come with me to the party tomorrow’."

"Sam…" Steve heaved a heavy sigh.

"He’s too romantic for that. He’ll make a move tomorrow night. In the moonlight and all," Bucky mocked, making Steve roll his eyes.

"I hate both of you."

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

  The large room was filled with a crowd. Low lights kept an intimate atmosphere throughout the floor. At the top of the Stark Tower, the view on New York City was stunning, an intricated labyrinth of shining lights matching the paler ones hung on the sky. You felt a little tipsy after drinking a couple of tequila shots with Natasha and Wanda. You reckoned that you needed some air, and stepped outside the busy room decorated with perfect taste. The music was still loud coming through the windowpanes as you walked on the large balcony. You hadn't seen Steve yet, but reckoned it was for the best. People had dressed up for the occasion, and you did not plan on dying of a heart attack because of the sight of him in a tuxedo.

The fresh air cleared your thoughts a little and you took a deep intake of breath. You leaned against the bannister, shivering a little as the breeze brushed your naked arms. You took in the view, the sparkling lights shimmering against the darkness of the night, the busy streets and wandering forms drifting back and forth into the maze spreading below your feet.

"Hey! Y/N! Bring your arse back inside, Thor and Nat are trying to see who holds their liquor best!" you heard one of your colleagues call for you, but you shook your head with a chuckle.

"We all know Nat will win."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

You spun on your heels as you recognized Steve's voice. He was standing there, a few steps away from you, his silhouette wrapped in the lights coming out of the busy room giving him a surreal halo, a hand in the pocket of his trousers and a shy smile on his perfectly shaven face. And yes, he was wearing a classic tuxedo. And God, did the man know how to wear a bowtie…

"After all, he is an alien," he went on.

Your colleague had disappeared, you guessed she had judged wiser to leave the two of you alone on the balcony.

How could there be only the two of you out there anyway? Where were people gone to?

"Yes, but she knows too many tricks to lose this kind of bet," you argue.

He let out a chuckle, his eyes flickering to the tip of his black shoes and back up to your gaze, capturing it for good.

"I guess you're right. It's always unwise to underestimate her."

"Exactly."

"Aren't you cold out here?"

"No, I… I needed a little bit of fresh air."

"These parties can be a little too intense," he nodded.

"So can be the tequila."

You both laughed, and fell in a comfortable silence. Steve was too busy staring at you to think of anything else, let alone about words to say.

He hadn't felt that way in what seemed to be an eternity. The nervous tremor through his body, the stumbling of his heart, the freezing of his thoughts… he knew the symptoms and had no doubt about the disease causing them.

Love was an easy thing to spot when it was true, after all.

But if his feelings for you were clear to him, he didn't know about your feelings for him, that was a completely different story. Everyone kept on telling him that you liked him, and he reckoned that he should trust his friends' judgment. The doubt was still there though, a little frozen cube buried in the depth of his heart that burnt through now and then. And it was burning now.

Because as he stared at you, such an accomplished, clever, independent, strong, fierce, graceful woman, he wondered if you could really feel the same way he did.

He had been feeling this way for you for so long though… years, really. And he reckoned now that it was more than time to speak his mind. In the worst case, he would get his heart broken. But in the best case…

"Are you enjoying your evening so far? Would you like something to drink?"

You gave him an amused smile. He seemed nervous…

… maybe your friends were right about him after all.

"I am enjoying my evening so far," you answered. "And no, thank you. I already feel tipsy enough for tonight."

He walked to join you against the bannister, a dreamy smile on both of your faces.

Inside, the music had changed from some energetic pop to a slower and intimate tune. It seemed that time had slowed around the two of you as well, as you stared at each other, your frames lightened by the light inside the tower but also by the stars above and the streets below. Steve's blue eyes reflected the distant lights in an almost impossible way that lit your heart on fire.

There were a thousand things that he wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you how he thought about you first thing in the morning and last as he closed his eyes to fall asleep. How you made him feel like he belonged in this world that wasn't his. You were amongst the few people who did not see the old soldier in him, but the man behind the shield. You had never made a snarky remark about his lack of knowledge to a reference, and he was grateful for it. You loved sharing the things you loved and that's what drove you when you showed him things he had missed during his time in the ice. It wasn't in a will to change him and make him fit better into a world he had been pushed into, it was in a desire to show him something you were passionate about, simply because you liked talking about it. It wasn't about changing him, it was about sharing. And the majority of people he had met since he had been awakened did not share that state of mind, but the opposite.

He longed to tell you how much he loved hearing you laugh, and thought you had the most adorable smile, and how he admired your smart mind, and how he respected you and your opinion about everyone else's…

There were a million words to be spoken and a thousand thoughts to articulate, but all that passed his lips when he finally mustered the strength to talk was a mere invitation, although it still sounded like a declaration.

"Would you like to dance, Y/N?"

Your heart skipped a beat or two as he called you by your first name, and dear God, did your name sounded wonderful rolling on his tongue. His hand rose as he offered you his open palm, fingers trembling slightly, blue eyes drenched in reflected lights still capturing your gaze and your entire life too. You were vaguely aware of people inside, and maybe some were staring at the two of you, but you couldn't find a way to care, nor even to check if your assumption was correct. Instead, you could not look away from Steve.

There were so many words you meant to speak and thoughts to express and confessions to free from the safety of your heart. How you adored how kind he was, and selfless. How you respected how driven he was and always right to his beliefs. And an infinity of other tiny things that had made you slowly and yet irrevocably fall in love with him.

Instead, you smiled up at him, and spoke only an answer, that still sounded like a promise.

"I would love to."

You thought he would bring you back inside, but he didn't. Instead, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer in a soft gesture. You slipped your hand in his and he gave your fingers a tender squeeze.

You started to sway with the gentle tune, but could barely acknowledge the movements of your feet. You were so close to him, he was so close to you… how could you survive this?

Calloused fingers held yours in a gentle hold, his other hand resting in the small of your back, drawing you closer and closer in an embrace that grew tighter every second and yet of which you knew you could free yourself of if you wanted. It felt safe. Warm. Peaceful. And safe, yes, so safe, so comfortable, you could lay your life in his hands blindly and wouldn't even worry about it. You couldn't remember when was the last time you felt like this, like this man before you could never make anything to hurt you, like not in a million years would he let anything bad happen to you. It felt like a lifetime ago that you trusted a man so thoroughly as you trusted Steve now.

There was warmth spreading from your body to his, reassuring, soothing. A calming glow oozing from your soul conquering his last lines of defence. He couldn't fight against you. He loved you too much for it. All he could do before you was to lay down his arms and offer you his heart on a plate. It was dangerous, and yet he was not afraid. He trusted you too blindly to worry about what you could do with his most precious offering. You would do with it what you pleased. He would accept it all no matter what. It could either bring him back to life or break him for good, but in any case, he would not regret giving you his heart. He knew so much, at least.

He leaned down, your bodies too close to be moved closer to each other by then, resting his jaw against your temple. He remained quiet and so did you, although your two pounding hearts spoke better than your tongues at this moment.

There were no words needing to be spoken, you both knew that this feeling coursing through your bodies now was the feeling of coming home.

Inside the busy crowd, Sam was finishing his third glass of bourbon, while Bucky drank the last drop of his third beer. They exchanged a glance, and Bucky extended his hand. Sam could only chuckle before reaching for his wallet and slipping a twenty dollar bill in Bucky's hand. He had lost his wager, but learnt an important lesson.

One should never underestimate the sense of romance of Captain America, especially if he is wearing that kind of suit.

*****************************************************************

Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi

@madamrogers

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #captain america imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #writing

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifty-Five

“Let’s see…” I pulled out a notepad from out of my pocket. It wasn’t there just a second ago. Never mind that detail. “Two down. Now who’s next?” I crossed out the two names that were on the notepad. Don’t worry, it wasn’t a death note. Well, it could’ve been, but that wouldn’t have made those two names very happy.

The first name on the notepad was pretty easy to take care of. All I had to do was tell them (well, him, sometimes her) that Conrad was proud of them. The second person was a bit harder. It was still worth it, I think, but damn, I sure had to pull some strings here and there to make it work. Exhausted, I made little mouths out of my hands. No, not literally (though was that possible?), just the kind of hand mouths you do when you do hand puppets.

“Who knew making people happy could be such work?” One hand asked.

“Yes! But so rewarding!” The other hand replied. On one hand, I could see that hand’s point, but on the other hand…

“It’s just exhausting, y’know? I’m human, after all.” I almost said ‘only human’, but I wasn’t only human.

“Yes! Happy Blanc is good Blanc! Happy friends even better!”

“Mm-hmm…yeah, I care about my friends. Though the first one we helped give a happy ending, Kelly Roger, I never really knew that well.” Conrad knew them better. I never really got to know Conrad that well. Not as well as a previous me, anyhow.

“Know or not, happy is good!”

“Can’t argue with that. Well, I can, but I don’t really care to.”

All the hand conversations didn’t get me anywhere. I was still wandering through those halls, passing by displays of odd little inventions. In a sense, I too was an invention. Well, in more senses than one. Would I want to be called an invention? To be honest, I’ve been called worse.

You could call me whatever you wanted to: guardian angel? Sure. Santa? In a sense, except I existed every day of the year. Hungry Hungry Hippo? I don’t see why you would call me that, but you could. Mostly, I was just a euphoric ball of energy. Well, if that ball was human shaped and that energy was concentrated in sending good vibes. The downside of the whole thing was that in the process, I sacrificed all my smarts.

All for the sake of good vibes! Also, fruit snacks. Yes, a necessary sacrifice if there ever was one. However, that too had been sacrificed. No fruit snacks. No gummy worms.

But these were not sad times! No! Given the circumstances, I should’ve been at least a bit sad, but I wasn’t. How could I be so happy considering I was aboard the ship of an all-powerful evil organization that I happened to be wandering around in because why not? It sure beat the alternative, which would’ve been hanging out on a dying planet. So, how then, could I be so happy considering I just left a dying planet with most of the people in it dead and I may never see home again? Wasn’t that sad, even just a little bit?

The answer was easy: I was happy because I was happy.

There I was, with a hop and a skip, and happy as a clam...chowder. Oh yeah. I forgot. Hunger was still a thing.

“Ugh, I need, like...what’s the term for food that makes you happy?” I pondered. “Junk food, right? Wait. No. It can’t be junk if it makes you happy.” Comfort came to mind, but that didn’t seem right, either.

I continued to brainstorm, but then I remembered that thinking didn’t make me happy, so I stopped and moved on. The nice thing about being so aimless was I couldn’t fail any goal if I didn’t have any goals to begin with. For the moment, all that I was concerned about was my growling stomach and finding something interesting. Okay, you could call that a goal.

Eventually, that aimlessness grew boring. Eventually as in within a few minutes. So I settled on the next room I came across and see what would happen. It was a long stretch before the next room, but when it finally presented itself, I lit up with joy. It was a lit room with the words on the door “Movie Study Room”.

With a name like that, how could I get bored?

Two of us against a horde of guards, soldiers, corporate security, whatever they may have been, one thing was for certain: we would be lucky to make it out unscathed.

Coriander had gotten her little laser backpack thing to work just before we had caused such a distraction. Bless that spice girl.

“They get knocked down, but they get up again!” Coriander seethed as she looked behind her. I did the same. Yikes.

“Wrong band. You’re supposed to tell me what you want. What you really, really want.”

“What?! This isn’t the time for jokes!”

Yeah. She was right. Especially because I didn’t have any means to defend myself. Though I will say it was rather refreshing to rely on someone else. Refreshing? More like depressing. What if she got hurt or killed or something?

“Hey!” I stopped. “I’m getting short of breath!”

“That’s your own fault! I didn’t choose to eat all that junk food before coming here!”

I turned my head. There were more coming. They were already within our sights and ready to shoot.

Through grit teeth, I uttered one word to Coriander.

“Fire.”

Multiple shots from the lasers hit the guards. Coriander, triumphant, turned to me with a smirk.

“How bold of you to give me commands.”

It was too late to think of a clever remark. I’d have to let her have that one. By the time she spoke those words, I was already running toward the fallen enemies, unsure if they were dead or alive, but taking a gamble all the same.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She balked.

“Being reckless!” I yelled my reply as I pried a large gun out from one of the guard’s hands. “I couldn’t let you do everything yourself, could I? That wouldn’t be any fun!”

More of those armored figures piled in. My hands shook as I pointed the heavy weapon toward them.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you. I bet I could fire this thing faster than you guys could lift a finger.”

Coriander cupped her hands “Bet!”

Oh, come on! You’re on my side! You’re not supposed to call my bluff!

“Prepare for ambush,” one of them spoke into their helmets, which I presumed had a built-in headset.

“Really? Come on, guys! I know you all got family and stuff and complex lives I’ll never know, but you’re mooks and I’m supposed to be the hero! Can’t you just play along?!”

They raised their weapons and I heard the sound of boots stampeding across the floor behind Coriander and I.

Ugh. I really don’t want to die like this. I mean, I know death was all but certain, but that doesn’t mean I want to get shot.

Coriander got behind me. Maybe she figured if she was going to get shot, she may as well let me be a human shield, first. How noble. I would’ve liked to believe I’d have done the same. In a loving way, y’know?

Still, that wasn’t about to happen. Not just “not on my watch”, but also because just as I said, death by gunfire wasn’t on my bucket list. So, in a last ditch attempt, I shot below us.

We both fell into total darkness.

Inside the room at a group of folks in lab coats staring at one of those old box TVs. Each of them looked my way.

“Hi guys,” I waved.

They all waved back. I walked past them and noticed an empty chair, so I decided to take a seat. Where I ended up sitting was a spot sandwiched between one Flashbulb member and what I had to assume was another one. Well, of course! But couldn’t I be more descriptive? Hmm…

The one to the left of me had a slicked-back hairstyle and star shaped sunglasses. Coincidentally, he also looked quite glum. To the left of me was a lady with auburn hair in one of those bob cuts. Or maybe it was in a bun. Actually, it may have been both. She had a clipboard in her hands and appeared equal measures friendly and abrasive. Just a first impression.

“How goes it?” She asked me.

“Oh!” I grinned. I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome. “I was just passing by. Thought this place looked neat, decided to check it out.”

“What department are you in?” Was the next question in the interrogation as she tapped a pen against the clipboard.

“None, really. Well...when I first showed up here, I once told someone I was Dr. David Blaine and with the trash department. It was really just a lie, though.”

“So you’re someone who shouldn’t be here?”

I gave a hearty laugh with a sprinkle of a giggle.

“You could say that! I’m just visiting!”

The tapping grew more intense, but she didn’t look ready to break skulls, far from it. Her gentle, yet volatile demeanor reminded me of a certain someone who went back to her own home not too long ago. Ah, but I knew this person was different, of course! She wasn’t even wearing glasses!

“Well, while you should probably be dealt with, it just so happens that I’m not in any department who deals with intruders. So while you’re in here, I’d say you’re welcome to stay.”

“Cool. Say, you remind me of someone,” I pointed out.

“I get that all the time,” she waved her hand away and laughed.

“I bet! I’d get that all the time, too, if I were in your shoes. Though I doubt we wear the same size.”

We shared a laugh once again.

“Ahem,” one of the members in the room interjected. “Aren’t you going to evaluate our performances and tell us how we can improve?”

“That’s right,” she nodded.

“Oh? So that’s what you guys are up to?”

“Indeed. I’m Dr. Hepburn of the HR Department. These fine scientists were recently defeated by the inhabitants of the version of Earth they were tasked to improve. So I’m here to tell them where they went wrong and help place them in a new department where their skills may be better put to use.”

“That’s neat! But what’s that gotta do with watching movies?”

“So glad you asked! Wanna watch it with us?”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do.”

One of the members of the defeated department got up and put a DVD in the TV’s built-in DVD player. As she went to sit back down, she held out her hand. I shook it. She may have been my friends’ enemies, but I wasn’t about to be rude!

“I’m Dr. Sodapop, by the way.”

“Oh! I’m...um...Dr. Pepper?”

There was no reason to say that since they already knew I wasn’t one of them.

“Well, I’m Blanc, but all my friends call me Dr. Pepper,” I backtracked. Note: none of my friends have ever called me that.

As the DVD booted up and the menu screen came up, it soon became clear what we were about to watch: Grease. Some musical movie with John Travolta that I never paid much mind. But hey, gotta appreciate the classics, I guess?

Dr. Hepburn grabbed the remote and pressed play.

The opening scene was one where a guardian angel visits one of the characters. I thought it was quite cute, and highly relatable, that was, until the guardian angel calls her a beauty school dropout. The next thing that played after a musical number was another musical number where two characters declare “you’re the one that I want”.

“See, this is where you guys went wrong,” Dr. Hepburn pointed out to them. “You thought you could turn people into zombies with ‘greased lightning’, but you forgot the power of ‘you’re the one that I want’. Rookie mistake.”

“Can someone explain this to me?” I stared at the screen and felt like I just took shrooms after thinking they were gummy bears. Just as I spoke, the credits rolled.

“Wait.” I blinked. “Is the movie over?”

Nope. Partway through the credits, there was a new scene.

“Oh, is this like one of those post-credit scenes in movies?” “Shh!” They all shushed me. All but Dr. Hepburn. She looked delighted to answer my question.

“Not at all, the movie’s just playing out of order, and we have no idea what the next scene’s gonna be.”

“It’s really the only way to watch movies,” added one of the other members. “I’m Dr. Rizzo, by the way.”

“Really? How do you figure that?”

“Well, by changing things around, it changes the whole movie and changes the meaning! We can discover new things we didn’t know before that way!” Dr. Hepburn once again answered, ever eager.

“I don’t know. I’m just confused.”

“That’s how it is at first; you watch one of these special editions and you’re a little lost, but then it starts to click and you’re like ‘this is the best movie ever!’ Ever since, I’ve grown to think that way about every movie I’ve seen,” another member added. That one, I learned, was Dr. Danny Zuko.

“I love this part!” One exclaimed. The part in question was Rizzo singing a song to what I believed was likely her love interest, someone named Sandra Dee.

“Wait. Is she Sandra Dee? I thought she was Rizzo.” I shook my head in confusion.

“You got it all wrong! She’s making fun of Sandy! They’re rivals!” One of the flashbulb members corrected me. Then another shushed me.

“Why would they be rivals? They’re in love, aren’t they?”

“No, no, no. Sandy and Danny are in love.”

“Can’t all three of them be in love, and y’know…?”

“Love triangle?”

“Ew, no. I mean, they could all be in a poly ship, y’know?”

“It’s set in the 50s.”

“So? It’s a movie.” One of them looked about ready to get up and deck me, but Dr. Rizzo stopped them. “Let them finish,” Dr. Rizzo told the other member. “They might be onto something.”

That’s when it occurred to me that some of these scientists were named after Grease characters.

“Actually, no, that was all I had. Sorry to let you all down.” I wasn’t really sorry. There was nothing to be sorry for. “By the way, you guys got popcorn?”

“HOLY FUCK!” Dr. Danny Zuko cried out, shocked. After a few heavy sighs, returned to a normal, room temperature voice. “We forgot the popcorn.”

Dr. Hepburn paused the movie, then turned to Dr. Sodapop. “Will you make us all some popcorn with your popcorn materializer?”

“You mean a microwave?”

She smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll grab a bag. One sec.”

After approximately two minutes and forty-five seconds (approximately. No one was counting), Dr. Sodapop returned with popcorn. I grabbed a handful and shoved it in my mouth. Crunch was the sound it made, though it came off as more of a “cronch”.

“We good to continue?” I asked, my voice muffled by the buttery goodness of microwaved popcorn.

“Mm-hmm,” everyone hummed in unison, then Dr. Hepburn pressed play. That I had no idea what was going to happen next was exciting in a dumb way.

But more than that, it was nice to have company.

Up above, there was a faint light. Such a light was already faint when we were closer to it, but down below, we were like a speck. I reached out and felt flesh. Now, if you’ve known me by now, you’d known I could be somewhat of a gambler. So when I reached out to hug the flesh that I felt, there was a likely chance that I was about to hug a corpse.

“Ugh! Get off of me! I can’t see a thing!” Came the lurid voice of one spice that could have tasted like dish soap depending on who was doing the tasting. To me, she tasted just fine, though.

“It’s good to see you! I thought we were both goners!” I squeezed her.

“Well, I can’t see you, so maybe we’re both dead right now.”

“No, no!” I pointed up, a gesture that was rather pointless when we couldn’t really see each other. “Look up! There’s a light! We fell! We might be...in the void of space...or...the void of the space between spaces!”

“So what you’re saying is, we’re dead? Wait. You said ‘til death do us part’. If we’re both dead, does that mean I can just walk away?”

“Nu-uh!”

She got up, pulling me up with her.

“I’m teasing. It’s clear we’re still on the ship.”

She flicked a switch on her little laser backpack thing and lights lit up. Once she did, I could see her cute face with that blue hair I loved to rustle and behind that head of hair was a wall. I went up to the wall and knocked on it. Yep. We were still on the ship.

“Turns out there’s multiple floors. That’s one mystery solved!” I snapped my fingers.

“Ever the optimist,” she groaned. “So what’s the plan now, smart one?”

“Wanna cuddle?” I suggested.

She shook her head. “Those armed guards will probably show up down here any minute. Though I don’t know why they haven’t already. If anything, what we should be doing is getting a move on.”

Aw. But she was right. I knew that going in. It may take a while before we even got a chance to catch our breaths, let alone eat or sleep.

We walked down the halls until we heard someone’s voice nearby.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Instead of a person, what we found instead was a spare radio. Coriander picked it up.

“Yes. Those two intruders were shot dead. All clear,” she held her hand over the radio and turned to me. “We have to play along.”

“Oh. Uh. Good job? Shit. Um. Wrong number? Jeez. Okay, get it together. You can do this.”

“Is there anything you need to tell us?”

“Us? There’s more than one person there? Fuck. I stepped into this one, didn’t I? Good going, Juniper.”

My eyes widened. I just about let out a gasp.

“No, never mind me, you guys,” she continued. “You guys are probably all busy, what with your intruder killing and all.”

I snatched the radio out of Coriander’s hands.

“Hey Juniper! It’s us! Red and blue!” I yelled into the radio, unable to contain my excitement.

“Red and blue? Wait. That voice! Hey guys! I missed you!”

Coriander grabbed the radio and pulled it out of my grasp, then stuck her tongue out at me.

“Yeah, we missed you too. ‘Sup?”

“Oh, um, I’ve been fine!”

I leaned over Coriander’s shoulder and yelled. “ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’RE NOT HURT, ARE YOU?”

“Ow,” Coriander hissed. “You’re leaning too hard.”

“Oof. Sorry,” I backed away.

“Well...there was that part earlier where this guy tried to kill me with a metal bar and apparently put my brain into a computer…” she laughed. “Oh, but I’m fine now!”

“That’s not something you should laugh off, you know,” Coriander scolded. Well, hard to call it a “scold” as I could tell there was a hint of worry in her voice.

“But I’m fine, really. No need to worry. Verse came and saved the day.”

“Right, I think she mentioned something like that when we talked over the radio. Wonder what happened to her.”

“She went home. It’s all good now, I think. Well, I’m not sure. It seems like she’s got a lot to work through, but I’m glad for her.”

I felt like drawing a sigh of relief that she said ‘glad’ and not ‘happy’, for Coriander’s sake. Although she seemed fine, it may have still been a sensitive word for her.

“Yeah, us too. If nothing else comes from this suicide mission, at least we managed to help one person.”

“Nonsense! I’m not counting you guys out!”

“Okay, thanks. Just for that, let’s disregard our odds for now. You are safe now, right?”

“Well, I am in a bit of danger, actually…”

Oh shit. My mind and my heart raced together to see which one was faster.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, you see...I got roped in with the Medical Department and apparently I’m now a sub for this head nurse called Dr. Nightingale and she’s like really tough and kind of domineering.”

“She hasn’t hurt you, has she?”

“No,” then her voice got quieter, though I could still hear her. “But I kind of want her to…”

Coriander slammed her palm into her face and shook her head. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke once again into the radio. “Juniper,” she groaned.

“Yes?”

“Don’t call again unless you’re actually in trouble.”

She hung up before Juniper could so much as make a sound. Once she shoved the radio into her pocket, she began walking again.

“What? What was that all about!” I threw my hands up as I tried to keep pace with her.

“That woman’s beyond saving,” she grumbled.

“That was still rude! I think...I’m not really sure? Anyway, if she picks up again, you should apologize.”

“Sure. I ought to just accept that everyone we meet ends up being ridiculous in some way.”

“That’s right!” I snapped my fingers. “But we should still try to help them anyway!”

Right on cue, static came in from the radio. Coriander picked it up.

“Look, I’m sor--”

“Hey guys, it’s me, Casablanca.”

In other words, it was Blanc.

“Now, technically I shouldn’t be able to speak with you guys right now. I don’t have one of these things, and I’m in a room with other Flashbulb members. Also, I’m not moving my mouth right now. But if you disregard all those things, we can have a nice chat.”

Coriander handed me the radio. “It’s your ridiculous friend.”

“You mean ‘our’ ridiculous friend,” I corrected her.

“I don’t remember getting custody of them when we got together.”

Together. To + get + her = I got her. Wow. I was speechless.

“I just wanted to let you two know that technically, all the other guards should be able to hear you.”

“What?!” Both Coriander and I were in shock.

“Well, I say technically, because they didn’t. I pulled a few strings here and there to make things easier for you. Anyway, best of luck out there!”

“How’d you do that?” I asked.

“Oh you could call me an ‘Angelus Ex Machina’. Because if you think about it, this ship is one big machine. Anyway, peace!”

“Uh...okay...bye?”

I handed the radio back to the one I was together with. “Okay,” I relented. “That part was ridiculous, I’ll admit.”

With that little distraction behind us, we moved on.

So here’s when things got weird:

Rizzo had a pregnancy scare. That was the scene we were on. I had even more questions.

“So let me get this straight: Sandy, Danny, and Rizzo, are all in a relationship. But then Rizzo is also in a relationship with Kenickie, but then Danny is also in a relationship with Kenickie.”

“You got it all wrong,” Dr. Frenchie corrected me. “Rizzo is in a relationship with Kenickie and Danny is not in a relationship with Kenickie.”

“That can’t be right,” I shook my head. “You saw the way Kenickie and Danny acted toward each other. I don’t even act that way with my best of friends. They’re totally seeing each other.”

Later, as the film went on in its own way, Frenchy (the character) appeared, and was alongside one of the other T-birds. It seemed like all the T-birds went with the women in the Pink Ladies group because they felt pressured to by society. In every other scene, they acted more intimate than each other than the ones the movie insisted they were paired with. That got me thinking…

“Fellas,” I asked the male Flashbulb members in the room. “Is it gay to form a group of all guys and call yourselves the ‘T-Birds’?”

“Hmm…” They put their hands on their chins and wondered. “Yeah, a little bit,” one of them spoke up.

“Ladies,” I turned my attention to the female members. “Is it gay to form a group of all girls and call yourselves the ‘Pink Ladies’?”

“Hmm…” They also put their hands on their chins. Then, Dr. Hepburn raised her hand up and smiled a triumphant smile.

“Maybe they are all bisexual?”

“Bisexual and poly,” I agreed. “Yes, that seems to be implied with the way Kenickie is seeing Danny and Rizzo, and Rizzo is seeing Kenickie and Sandy. Then Sandy is seeing Rizzo and Danny. It’s all connected.”

Upon drawing my conclusion, the rest of the credits rolled as if to signify that my hypothesis was correct. Everyone clapped, me included. It felt like we had all cracked the secret code of the movie.

“Well, that was a fun movie, you guys. Thanks for the popcorn, too!”

“Don’t mention it,” Dr. Hepburn waved her hand away. “It was our pleasure.”

“By the way, while I’m here, what is it your guys’ department did?” I looked around.

They all shuffled their feet. “Ehh…”

“I can answer that,” Dr. Hepburn, always so reliable, spoke up. “They were part of the Population Department.”

“Oh yeah!” I perked up. “I think I recall them when I last infiltrated here!”

“Ohoho, how notorious! Well, those fine folks thought they had a population problem. Or rather, another department thought there was a population problem in the far future in one of the many timelines. First, they thought there were too few people. So they cloned everyone, and named all the clones Katherine. The naming was actually my idea,” she put her hand over her chest. “I’m named after Katharine Hepburn. With an ‘a’, but those ones with with an ‘e’. Go figure.”

“Oh, so you helped!”

“I gave them a little inspiration with the naming. You see, whenever others would see the name ‘Hepburn’, they would think of that other actress. Like, hello? Audrey who?”

“I know, right! I don’t know anyone with that name!”

“Bless your heart for that! So anyway, later on in the further future, I think it was the year 8008135? They had a different problem: too many of the people were clones of each other and there was too many people in general.”

“Wait. How do you define ‘too many people’?”

“That’s a good question!” She jotted that down in her notepad. “Well, they thought there were too many people. It’s rather odd speaking in past-tense, since here we are, in the past, but to these fine folks, those events were their past. But to the Katherine-verse, that’s a very long time from now. Well, there is no ‘now’ or ‘later’ considering where we are.”

“Yeah, I never did have a good sense of time in the first place.”

“That’s okay. Most of us here don’t. Anyway, they came up with the idea of turning all the Katherines into zombies to lower the population back down, and they’d turn them into zombies by triggering a transformation via a rendition of ‘Greased Lightning’. In the end, they were defeated by a rendition of ‘You’re the One That I Want’ and all the zombies were turned back human. But before the rendition, they did manage to reduce the population by ten percent.”

“So not a total loss,” Dr. Sodapop added.

“Basically you committed genocide,” I spoke up. “Eugenics and genocide.”

“Well, it sounds bad when you put it that way.”

“And again, how many people are too many? Who gets to decide? For that matter, why did you think that there were too many people? Just seemed like a big number, and you wanted a smaller one?”

“Well, first it was too small…” One of them began. I didn’t bother naming or knowing who.

“Okay. How much is too small? Who are you to decide what the right amount is?”

“We’re scientists! We have seen the past and the far future!”

“Hmm...yeah, I getcha,” I nodded. “But have you considered those were human lives? Also, ten percent is no small number.” “Indeed! That’s why it wasn’t a total loss!”

“Also,” another added. “They were all clones of each other meant to repopulate the earth after the numbers were too small, so technically they weren’t even that important in the grand scheme of things.”

“But try explaining that to one of them. Were any of them consulted? Did they agree to forcibly turning into a zombie to kill each other just to reduce their own population? Like, on an individual level, personally, I don’t think I’d want to turn into a zombie. Stardust, maybe. An angel, sure. But a zombie? Hmm...no.”

“What is a human life, anyway?” “We’re more concerned with the population as a whole than the life of one person, given that we are, or were, the Population Department,” further explained Dr. Sodapop.

“Now, now,” Dr. Hepburn stopped me before I could rant any further. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure why I was so worked up. Maybe it was some kind of personal kinship with clones, seeing as I was one, myself. “You shouldn’t expect too much from them. They’re not from the Ethics Department.”

“What? There’s an Ethics Department?”

“Indeed,” Dr. Rizzo spoke up. “They’re the only team of ethical scientists The Flashbulb has. Though the problem is, they’re only concerned about the ethics of their own department.”

“Mm-hmm. It seems to be a problem with micromanagement as a whole. I may have to put a comment in the suggestion box the next time I’m in the area. Though that suggestion box is about 500 kilometers away from here. So it may take me a while,” Dr. Hepburn muttered as she wrote more notes in her notepad.

“Well, you guys, it was nice to hang out with you all, even if most of you are mass murderers, but I’m bored, so I must go.”

“It was a pleasure to have some company,” Dr. Hepburn bid me farewell. That’s when I remembered.

“Oh yeah, company! Just so you guys know, I’ve got some friends here who are looking to take you guys down.”

“Interesting...which department?”

“All of them!”

I decided to stay seated. If I was going to dump more exposition, I may as well. Much to my (lack of) surprise, everyone in the room laughed.

“I wish your friends best of luck, but if they really wanted to secure their chances at some kind of victory, I’d suggest they focus their efforts on one department and call it a day.”

Each of the members chatted among themselves and seemed to agree with that notion.

“Yeah, I agree that would probably be the best course of action, but that wouldn’t really do my friends any good. The department that wronged their Earth is already gone.”

“Oh? What department was that?”

“The Morale Department! It was really quite fun, too! But then something happened and I guess you could say it all...overloaded...eh? Eh?”

“Ah, yes. Such a shame, that department. It seemed to be a success story, too.”

I can attest to that. I was both a success and a failure. A mistake. A happy accident.

“Now everyone’s gone crazed and the world’s destroying itself. Sound familiar?” I asked around.

Everyone looked at each other and shuffled their feet. Nervous glances were shared.

“Sorry about your Earth,” Dr. Hepburn waved her hand. “But about your friends, such a feat would take them a lifetime, if not several lifetimes. I have trouble just getting to my office most of the time. Besides, there’s all the logistics to consider. What will they do once they defeat us?”

“Beats me. Don’t know, don’t care. It’s their story, not mine. I’m just here to cheer them on.”

“What a good friend you are,” Dr. Hepburn did her little pen tap. “Just a little bit of advice for your friends: however they end up going about it, they should avoid the Arts and Crafts Room at all costs.”

“Room? Not department?” I was confused as all hell, but what else was new?

“Hm. Was it Arts and Crafts or the A/V Club? Sorry, I’m a little fuzzy on the details,” Dr. Hepburn bowed her head and I shook mine in turn.

“Don’t worry about it!”

“Rest assured, I won’t. Though I do wonder how it may happen some day. We’ve made great strides towards bettering humanity and give us another five, no, ten universes, and I’m sure we’ll get it right. Then, everyone will live in the ideal world, whatever that may look like.”

“Sure, but no matter how you look at it, you guys are the villains.”

“It’s all a matter of perspective. From our perspective, we’re the heroes, and those who try to stop us are the villains.”

“I’m sure I could see things that way, if not for the fact that such things like genocide and enslavement are pretty villainous if you ask me.”

“Maybe so. Nobody’s perfect, after all. But we’ll be perfect eventually.”

“Unless you guys are defeated, that is.”

She smiled and nodded.

For what it was worth, I really did appreciate the time spent with all of them, even if I admit I got a little heated there. Oh well, what could I say? I still cared about some things. Probably.

I got up out of my seat. It seemed like the right decision. There was only so much sitting and chatting I could do before I started to grow restless. I imagined the same thing applied to Euphoria, although she/they had the luxury of both being able to sit and chat and be everywhere at the same time. Me, I had to take the stairs.

“Well, at least your friends aren’t relying on any supernatural stuff, like we had to deal with,” Dr. Danny Zuko lamented. “The ones who defeated our department somehow contacted their alternate universe selves, with NO EXPLANATION AS TO HOW and then their alternate universe selves came over to our Earth and both versions ended up defeating our horde of zombies through SONG. Ridiculous, I know.”

“For sure,” I was stunned in my tracks. Every inch of me filled with goosebumps. “I thought there was a rule that if an alternate self goes to a different universe, the self in the other universe ceases to exist. Either through dying or by never having existed in that universe in the first place.”

Dr. Hepburn tapped her pen against her cheek. “Yes, indeed. That’s a universal rule that most departments in the company agree upon. However, maybe it didn’t apply to the Katherineverse?”

Sure. We were just going to call it that, huh?

“How does that make any sense?”

“Well, it may be a universal rule, but that doesn’t mean it’s an all-encompassing one.”

“That or there’s some serious inconsistencies going on and I’d like to speak with the manager.”

Everyone looked at each other.

“But everyone in The Flashbulb is the manager, technically,” Dr. Hepburn explained. Then, her eyes widened and she held her pen up. “Oh! Maybe you mean Grandmaster Flash!”

“Grandmaster Flash...I wonder if I’ve heard that one before somewhere?”

“Oh yeah. Everyone wants to be Grandmaster Flash, but so far the only Grandmaster Flash is the Grandmaster Flash and no one has met Grandmaster Flash.”

“But haven’t you spoken with the Grandmaster Flash before? Surely, you, being in HR, must mean that you’re pretty high up on the corporate ladder.”

“Erm...no. Not at all! I’m more of a glorified advisor, but even then, all I do is give advice. Most of that advice gets written down and put in a suggestion box and then none of the suggestions are implemented! But we can all learn something from our mistakes, can’t we? Like, maybe we should know why none of the suggestions never get implemented? Or maybe we should have a better means to give feedback. All things to consider.”

“So if you’re not one of the higher ups, who’s higher than you?”

“Everyone! But then again, is anyone lower than me, either? Hm...all things to consider now, isn’t it? I give advice and people listen, but my suggestions are never implemented.”

All trying to figure out how The Flashbulb worked did was make my head hurt, which also did not make me very happy. What would have made me happier was if I wasn’t so confused. Thus, I understood everything. But then I discarded all that understanding because I didn’t really care. Also my stomach growled.

“Right!” I snapped my fingers. “I forgot! I’m still hungry! That popcorn wasn’t enough! Can any of you tell me where I can get some food?”

“There’s the cafeteria,” Dr. Rizzo pointed out.

“Or, if you have a prescription, you can get something from one of the vending machines. But you’d have to go all the way to the medical department for that.”

I turned my head and smiled. “I’ll just see where I end up and go from there! Thanks guys!”

“Take care!” They all waved to me as I left the room.

As I departed, I wondered how Velvet and the spice of her life was doing. Not that I had to wonder, as if I was happy enough to know, I’d already know, but it also made me happy to wonder, so that was just as important.

What a predicament we were in. I began to laugh, which since my raiding partner couldn’t hear my thoughts, she probably thought I was laughing at nothing.

“When are we not in a predicament?” I mused in the midst of cackling laughter. “If what Blanc said was true, what’s even the use of these radios? And then, if we can’t communicate with each other if we get separated, what do we do? How are we supposed to protect Juniper if we can’t even reach her? For something so technologically advanced, I’ve noticed no cameras, no computer terminals to hack into. I feel really out of my element here.”

“Of course you would be. I tried to warn you before. Pretty sure others did too. This is uncharted territory for you and you figured you could just go in blind.”

“Yeah, well considering where we are at the moment, we’re quite literally in the dark.” There were other things to consider as well. Like where the path we were on would lead to, or if there were multiple paths we could take. Why those guards decided not to go down or shoot at us?

“I’m glad you can still find humor in spite of our situation,” Coriander retorted.

“Of course! You know me! I find ways to lighten up even the darkest of times.”

Coriander stopped. She turned around. “I know you alright,” she pointed up at me. “You use humor to deflect from whatever’s on your mind that you don’t want to deal with. So what is it that’s bothering you?”

“What isn’t?” I laughed again, but then sighed. “Everything’s coming to an end, isn’t it? I thought that there’d be a chance we’d have everything more figured out. Or that someone else would figure it out. I never really considered myself the ‘hero’ type or even a good person for that matter, but here we are, flailing about and saving the world just for the sake of it.”

“It really has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” Coriander seemed to agree. “I mean, it doesn’t feel that long ago that a version of you and I were trying to kill each other, and now we’re here. Really, we had a lot of time to prepare, but the more dire things got, the more everything seemed to happen so much faster.”

“Aw, sweetie,” I patted her head. She swiped my arm away.

“I didn’t say you could do that!” She barked. “I’m just trying not to put you in a goddamn slump. Jeez.”

“Still, what if Verse was right?” I could already feel the slump coming. Please let me pat you more. “What if the best ending had already passed us by and now the only options left are imperfect ones?”

“What, that tired ‘you can’t save everyone’ rhetoric?”

“We already didn’t save everyone. Lots of people died. Most people, in fact,” I started to sigh once more. “When I look back, it’s like, have I ever really saved anyone?”

She stood on her tiptoes and held the hair over my forehead up, then kissed my forehead.

“Hey! How come I couldn’t pat your head but you get to do that?”

“Because the situation called for it. Anyway, you’re an idiot. First, I’m alive. Second, so is Verse. Also, there’s that alternate Blanc, but I don’t think you had a hand in that one, plus they kinda weird me out, not gonna lie. But also, even if you hadn’t saved anyone, that’s not really the point. Most people don’t save others. It’s, like, just not a thing. So just the fact that you managed to save a couple people is pretty impressive.”

“Gee, what would I do without you?”

“You’re plenty capable. Not sure why I need to remind you that.”

“Please remind me. Whenever I’m in doubt.”

“That may either be a lot of reminding or none at all, depending on how things go. But for now, let’s try to focus on what’s ahead.” I nodded.

On the subject of what was ahead, I spied some scrap metal on the floor. I thought of picking some up, but it looked far too heavy. Shame, too, as there could have been some use for them. Maybe it was for the best. More than anything, I needed my mobility.

As we were about to turn left through the hallway, we both spied a sign on the wall.

“Dead End – Turn back now,” we read aloud in unison. Coriander shone her light through the hall. It seemed to extend. I nudged her.

“It might be a dead end, but then again, it might not. We should at least keep going just to make sure.”

She nodded. We continued forward and saw another sign. That one read ‘You’re still here? Why?’ That same philosophical question had plagued my mind throughout my life.

Even still, we kept going.

That was, until we came across a wall. On the wall, the words ‘Told you so’ were written.

“I hate to say it, but –” “Then don’t,” she stopped me dead in my tracks. Well, what really stopped me was the wall, but I wasn’t about to turn back, either. No, because I noticed something off about the wall. Little chips against the corner of the wall. I took the gun I had stolen off of one of the guards and slammed it into the wall with full force. Chunks of the wall fell off and then both Coriander and I saw it: a keypad.

“What the hell? How’d you know there was a thing like that?”

I shrugged and gave a smug grin. “Didn’t, but part of that wall seemed off.”

She examined it and I leaned in close as well.

“There could be a safe behind this wall or maybe a screen will appear and a recording will play. Then again, the most likely scenario is that whatever purpose it may have once served, it no longer does anything now. What with how dark this place is, I doubt anything down here has power.”

No. That didn’t seem right. Considering how advanced and powerful The Flashbulb had been made itself out to be, seeing something so powerless and abandoned didn’t seem like them at all.

“There has to be something. We just have to find the right combination.”

“Good luck with that. Not like you can tell what the combo is just by looking at it.”

“Uhh...I’ll get a number seven, hold the fries,” I joked.

“I regret to inform you that this isn’t a fast food joint.”

I shook my head. Our banter wouldn’t get us anywhere. Though with a bit of luck, the number seven could have one of the numbers for the combination. Then again, it was so hard to tell. There were no indications as to which buttons were the correct ones, let alone, how many digits the combination was. Really, it wasn’t so much of a combination as it was a permutation, but potato pah-tah-toe. No one calls their locker codes ‘locker permutations’, do they?

“Come on, clock’s a tickin’,” Coriander’s voice invaded my mind. She was right behind me. Or beside me. There was no clock, not literally, but there was her foot, and it was tapped against the floor. Then it seemed like she began to tap her hand against the wall beside her. From my peripheral, she seemed to bob her head to and fro, as if listening to some music. Perhaps the music in her head?

Argh! This isn’t working!

But...but...I had to think of something, right? Right?

My thoughts drifted to biting my own fingers off. You know, for those times when the nails just won’t cut it.

Instead, I ran my fingers across the keypad and noticed some indentations. Sure enough, the indentations were made on four of the keys: 2, 4, 6, 8.

2...4...6...8...who do we appreciate? Hell if I know.

If my assumption was correct and the four indentations meant that it was a four-digit permutation, then while it sure narrowed things down considerably, that also left room for it to be something like 2,2,2,2 or 4,6,6,6. Which meant there were still 3024 possible permutations.

“I don’t want to be standing around here forever, you know,” I could smell her irritation even if she had been standing on a whole other planet.

“Fine! It’s...I’ve got this!”

I caught a glance of her behind me. She stood with her arms spread out to their sides.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m exerting pressure. Are you feeling it?”

“Yes!” I grit my teeth. It wasn’t the time to be frustrated. Just as she said, “clock’s a ticking”. Oh. That was it.

I entered the code, then stood back.

After a single beep, the wall slid out and in its place was a door.

“How’d you know the right combo?” She asked.

“I went clockwise,” I explained.

“That tells me nothing!”

Upon the door was a series of text. Before we went through, we examined what it said. “Arts and Crafts Room and the A/V Club. Authorized personnel only. Abandon all hope.”

“Wasn’t that last bit a little melodramatic?” I scratched my chin.

“Yeah, I’ve abandoned all hope every since I was born, so that’s whatever to me.”

I laughed. “Abandoning all hope should be a prerequisite to arriving at The Flashbulb’s headquarters.”

We both shared a good laugh, and then went through the door. All we had to do was push it open a little and bam! We were in.

Into what, we had no clue. All around us was total darkness.

“We should hold hands just in case something bad happens,” I suggested.

“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of the dark?”

Something dropped onto the floor in front of us.

“What was that?!” She freaked out and grasped for my hand.

Spotlights began to shine down on us. Then, we could see a little better. First, what dropped on the floor? A popsicle stick. Near the dropped popsicle stick? An entire pillar, made out of popsicle sticks.

“For the record, I’m not scared! I used to sit and play video games in the dark all the time!” She let go of her hand and pointed at me.

“I mean, yeah, kinda same.”

Then, a voice from a megaphone came in.

“Hey guys! What are you two doing down here?”

We looked around to see that the voice in question came from above the popsicle pillar, where a lady with black hair in a bun (the key feature being a couple of popsicle sticks holding her hair bun together) was laying down on her stomach, her legs folded up and kicking in the wind. She looked to be painting on a piece of wood.

“Keep on your guard. She’s with them, so she’s probably really dangerous,” I whispered to Coriander.

“No shit,” she replied.

“Are you two new members or something? If so, please leave me alone! I would rather like to be focusing on my art right now!”

“Uhhh…” I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Actually,” Coriander jumped in. “We’re here to overthrow The Flashbulb and put an end to their bullshit!”

Oh no. Why’d you have to go...well, better her than me, I suppose.

“What a relief! I’m tired of those guys!” She kicked her feet and laughed. “Still, if you’re going to hurt me, please make it quick. Us interns are known to be cannon fodder.”

“Wait. You’re...an intern?” I was taken aback.

“Yeah! For sure! Well, I was. Kind of still am. You can call me Dr. Bob Ross! That’s to separate me from Dr. Ross, because if I went by that name, then people would associate me with Dr. Chandler and Dr. Phoebe. Wouldn’t want that? Or, when I’m making films, I’m Dr. Lynch! So...uh...take your pick!”

“I’m severely confused right now.”

“So you’re not our enemy?” Coriander seemed confused as well.

“Not unless you want me to be! Which would be quite the role to take...anyway, you’re in luck! Because I can help you two!”

“Really?”

Coriander and I both looked at each other.

“Maybe this Flashbulb member isn’t that bad.”

“Indeed!” She heard us. “They keep me locked away and everyone’s afraid of me, but that’s only because they’re afraid to get in touch with their artistic side! I only ever get food sent to me and art supplies, but that’s it. It’s quite the tragic tale, really. Especially how everyone thinks I’m evil.”

“If The Flashbulb is evil...and they think you’re evil...wouldn’t that make you good?” I pondered.

“Exactly! Art is the ultimate good!”

I started to smile. Maybe this Dr. Bob Ross, or this Dr. Lynch was just the lucky break Coriander and I needed.

#happiness overload #been a long time coming #writing #fiction #stories #scifi #comedy #action #drama #horror #anything #art #coriander #velvet #grease

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Harvest Moon, pt. 3

Steve Rogers x Reader, Summer AU

A/N: Every chapter will have a designated song to it, so please take a listen! Will be linked below. I don’t own any Marvel characters.

Summary: For five summers, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and you had been a trio; spending the summer at a lake with your families. While Bucky tagged along, there had always been a special bond between Steve and you. Every summer the lake had been something to look forward to until you stopped going and life moved on. Now as adults, Steve and you return at the same time, for different reasons. Can you rekindle that friendship or was it just youthful summer magic?

Masterlist

Chapter Three: Don’t Worry Baby

It was a little after two in the afternoon as you strolled alongside the lake, smiling at the children playing and families getting settled in their respective cabins. Walking for a good fifteen minutes, you stopped at the tree line near your cabin and stared out toward the lake; the cabins interior might have changed, but the lake never grew a day older. If you closed your eyes, everything would come back to you; the laughing and running, the sun on your skin as it dried from swimming and the hunger pains that came shortly after. Except, you could really feel them because you indeed were hungry. Remembering there was a little diner in town, which was only a ten-minute walk from the office check in cabin, you decided to head over.

….

Steve was on the deck, grilling some burgers; the two men never wasted time when it came to food and immediately set up to cook ten minutes after settling into the cabin. Bucky was inside gathering the buns and condiments. It was starting to feel good to be away from the city and Steve was glad he came; waving at the cabin neighbors to the right – it was a small family of four and they all greeted him before setting off toward the lake. He watched the family until someone caught his eye; a woman lingering near the trees, two cabins down. She was just standing there and for a moment he had flashbacks of seeing you for the first time, which made him smile and go back to focusing on the burgers.

“The lady in check out said all the cabins are booked up, so it’s going to be pretty busy around here,” Bucky said, walking out with a handful of things. Steve nodded and flipped a few burgers, asking if he wanted to walk around the town later.

“I wonder if the ice cream shop is still there.”

“Probably,” Bucky answered, taking a seat at the deck table. “I don’t remember the town being so close.”

“Right?” Steve laughed and said it felt like the walk was longer as children. “Doesn’t seem like more than a ten-minute walk, remember it felt like forever when your mom sent us to the grocery store?”

“Well, you were a little puny stick back then,” Bucky pointed out with a laugh.

“Oh, fuck off, Buck.”

The two friends laughed, and Bucky reached over to the portable speaker he had brought to play music out on the deck – syncing it to his cell, he shuffled his Spotify likes and thanked Steve when he placed a burger on his plate. The Beach Boys came on and they settled down to eat, enjoying each other’s company as the lake came to life with splashing and joyous commotion.

…

You strolled out of the cabin with a smaller messenger bag laid across your chest, cell in hand as you walked toward the pavement trail that led to the main lodge building – a ten minute walk from there would get you to the grocery store in town. With a pair of shades on, you walked past the cabin next door and nearly ran into a little girl.

“Sorry,” she cried out, running back up the stairs to her cabin. You smiled as she snatched a towel off one of the deck chairs and flew back down the stairs, apologizing again. Waving to her, you watched as she raced toward, who you could only assume was her family. She looked to be about nine and her family looked happy, and that made you a bit sad. Your family had been that happy once, before things crumbled and while they remained civil after the divorce, your dad was never the same. Taking a breath, you continued to walk and saw that the cabin the Barnes use to stay in was occupied. A part of you expected to see Mr. Barnes grilling while Bucky and Steve watched contently, but instead as you drew closer you heard music and the laughs of two adults. Then you heard voices, two men talking and as you past quickly, wanting to mind your own business, one hollered at you.

“Good afternoon,” he shouted in a friendly tone and you quickly gave them a glance. You weren’t here to make friends, if anything you wanted to be a wallflower in everyone else’s happiness. So, you just waved and said hello back without making eye contact, keeping a steady pace until you were two cabins away.  Your stomach growled and you decided to have a heavy lunch at the diner before grocery shopping, something greasy and a milkshake from the ice cream shop if it was still open.

….

“She was cute.”

“You’re getting married, Buck,” Steve reminded him, and Bucky laughed, explaining that he was looking for him.

“When’s the last time you went out with a girl?”

“I’m not here to date, I’m here to get some work done,” Steve advised, and Bucky grinned, patting his friend on the shoulder. He understood that Steve was having a hard time being inspired and that the studio he worked out of was eager for something new to show, but he wanted his friend to relax and if getting laid was going to help, he wanted to make sure it happened. Steve knew Bucky meant well, so he grinned and admitted the woman who walked by was cute. “But she didn’t seem like she was up for meeting new friends.”

Bucky laughed and agreed. “Yeah, but there’s a bar in town, we’re old enough now. Wanna head over later?”

Steve shrugged. “Why not, but I want to see if that ice cream shop is still open.”

“Fuck yes, that place was so good.”

.....

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#Harvest Moon series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel au #marvel imagine

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 13. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N: Enjoy, ma babes.

Warnings: Cap being the sweet fucking dork he is.

Word Count: 2.9 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six Part seven  Part eight  Part nine  Part ten  Part eleven  Part twelve

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

It actually wasn't God playing a solid prank on you as you thought in the first seconds when you saw his perfect-like face. Steve Rogers, the Captain America, was seriously the STEVE who you spent so much time online with. Your Steve, as you called him in a sweet tone.

It was such a weird feeling - you knew that face for years from posters and news, you’ve been even told about that man in your history classes. Focused on world war II. And that face was the face of the man who you grew to like so much. He indeed was a handsome man with beautiful eyes, handsome smile and white teeth. And his body was model like, you felt that Steve should persuade his career as a model.

The whole situation felt strange, dreamy and a bit unsettling at the same time, just like every meeting of your online crush or friend is. That little part of you couldn't really believe you have him by your side at that moment to share your thoughts with, to watch his expressions and to listen to the tone of his voice as he speaks or laughs. The other part was just straightaway obsessing about every single minute you're together, walking by each other's side, talking about nonsense. 

The other people who were walking around you just stopped for a minute and watched Captain America leading beautiful young woman by his side. They were talking about you, whispering and watching you; those who had some courage even took some photos of you.

But to you, this wasn't important at all. You felt as you clicked together. Steve was just great and incredibly handsome, he was curious about you, you could feel he cares about you. You knew that you could just sit for hours and watch his face and a big smile, while he will speak about total bullshit. He had his blonde hair perfectly cut just as every indication of his beard, his trousers, and the shirt fitted him perfectly just as the flowers - you kept telling yourself that he’s old school. 

“Shall we go?” - Steve offered you his elbow to catch with yours, so you could lean into him when you walked in those high heels. He was cautious about you not breaking your leg. Steve had to say that those high heels were only doing you good, your legs appeared longer, your hips were rounder. Steve would not say out loud that he saw your precious little bum - and it was rocking.

You nodded, reaching your hand to hold his elbow, and you still couldn't get over that shock. Steve Rogers. Captain FUCKING America. That shirt he had on was truly magnificent, it suited him and perfectly showed his waist down to his hips. And those jeans... Those were killing you. 

“So... That's who you are?” - You asked quietly and watched the profile of his face with a small smile on your lips. - “Is that why you so struggled to tell me? All this time?” 

“Basically. I don't know, maybe I was ashamed, maybe I was worried about you leaving when I’ll tell you. I just wished to be some random guy, someone normal.” - Steve said with his cheeks red, looking away from you. 

“Don't tell me you didn't want to lose me.” - You giggled. You both looked like teenagers, just giggling nervously because every word the other one have said. It looked sweetly, but the nervousness didn't let go at all.

“Something like that. Just say it out loud that I'm weird. But this is so all new to me.” - Steve looked directly at you and you looked into his eyes with a dreamy face. 

It all started to make sense all of a sudden. Why it appeared like he never dated before, why he felt so sweet and unexperienced - he was a man from the previous century after all. The man out of time. Personal tragedy and a national win. And about his work; most of it was classified. He couldn't just tell you. And to be honest, if he told you that he was a superhero, Captain America to be exact, you would think that he's loco.

“It’s not weird at all, Steve. I’m glad that you didn't run away when you saw me. I look like the biggest troll sometimes.” - You tried to joke, but Steve stopped you and look into your face with a frown. He was watching your face intensely for a while before you smiled again. - “What?”  

“I just think which part of you looks like a troll. Because I can't seem to see it.” - His thumb smoothed the curve of your face, caressing it slowly. At that moment, you couldn't tell if he's serious or not. You took a deep shaky breath and then when you tried to calm your heart rate down, you leaned into that touch. He was warm and smooth. 

“Okay, but we should go now. Or we'll not make it on time.” - Steve said in a whispering voice, caressing your face. He seemed to be mesmerized by you because you looked like a princess from a fairytale. Your hand circling around his palm woke him up from the trance. 

“Hey, we should go. Come on.” - You carefully took his hand to yours, slowly hugging his palms with your small fingers, nudging him to go forward, following you. - “And thank you for those roses. I've never got more beautiful ones.”

“Now you’re lying for sure. Boys surely were fighting for the privilege to give you a couple of flowers.” - Steve watched you with a frown but by the slightly teasing tone, you guessed he’s just joking around. 

“Oh yeah, they were just falling under my feet so they never had to touch the ground and so they weren't dirty.” - You told with too much affection in your voice. That made him laugh, which made everything tremble inside of you. - “I was basically a trophy which showed that they are the toughest around.”

“Yeah, I would say so. You're looking gorgeous tonight.” - He said shily. That made you smile even more. He truly was the man you hoped he would be. And he was even better. 

Steve has prepared a truly special dinner for you - he had a word with one of Tony’s friends and talked about renting a big place in one of the aquariums in the city. He managed to have the biggest one, the one with octopuses, huge corals, big and colorful fish, and those small and less dangerous sharks. You just stood there, watching the water being illuminated with some violet light.

There was a lonely table in the middle of the hall, with some food under the lids. With long, white candles all around that table - it looked almost Italian. You almost let the flowers fall down before letting Steve’s hand go, looking around you with awe written down to your face. Then you covered your mouth with your palm and turned to him, excitedly running directly to him and jumping into a hug. 

You didn't care at all that you were seeing Steve for the first time and that you never hugged each other before. You just laughed with your eyes watery, not believing your own eyes. 

“I don't know what to say. This is incredible! How did you make this happen? I'm not worth all of this, this must've cost a fortune, Jesus!” - You stepped back with your hands still around his shoulder, watching a huge octopus crawling on the glass.

“You.'e told me that you don't care about what food do you eat and that you're all about the atmosphere. So I really had to pull something off when I was hiding away for such a long time. This was the slightest thing I could do.” - His hand finally caught the small of your back. - “Are you happy?” 

“If I am happy? I’m taken away, I've got those beautiful red roses, I'm at this huge ass aquarium and I am with a man who I like...” - You stopped yourself at that moment, looking at Steve with a terrified look. - “I mean, uh. This is...” - You caught embarrassingly. 

“It’s nice to know that I’m not alone in this.” - Steve offered you his hand and took the flowers away from you, putting them into water. You stood in the back, fiddling with you palms nervously and smiling at the sight of that huge man nursing the flowers with gentle moves. He was sweet. Too sweet, to be exact.

“Come here, don't be shy.” - He waved at you and postponed the chair for you. You sat down and he helped you to get the chair under the table. Steve wanted to have the upper gentleman hand, so he poured you some champagne as well. You watched him with a dreamy look; he looked like a dangerous macho, but he was more clumsy and sweeter more than dangerous.

“Honestly, Steve, I have no idea how should I pay you all of this back.” - You said when he sat on the other side of the table. 

“This whole date didn't even start and you’re thinking about things like that?” - He smiled and took the lid out of his plate just as you did. It was truly some pasta with spinach, some cheese it seemed and meat. - “To calm your thoughts down, I will tell you that you’ll repay me if you would accept to see me again after this afternoon. Enjoy your meal.” 

You looked at him for another few moments through the candlelights with a smile and shiny eyes. For his eyes, there was no better view than you sitting with your hair down in that black shirtless blouse, lightened up only with candles and the water illuminating the lights around. Photos were nothing on your looks, just as the first time he saw you.

Steve didn't hesitate to make you laugh and he didn't care about that you almost spat the pasta out. This thing stayed with you since the first time he called you - he just adored your laughter. And seeing how your face lightened up when he made you happy... There could be nothing better than that. 

“Oh come on, you are lying, Steve.” - Your belly contracted in laughter as you watched his chin leaning into his entwined palms. The food was long after you, you only sat there and drank the, now warm, champagne. 

“I swear on my whole conscience that he truly did that. It was so embarrassing.” - Steve opened up about his part with Bucky and it just rolled out of his tongue. He could just talk for hours and hours if it made you laugh again and again. 

“I need to speak to Bucky about all of that. And we definitely should tell to Deena as well.” - You drank the last sip, not leaving Steve with your eyes. He was seriously handsome when he didn't control his expressions when he didn't know that he’s handsome at those moments.  

“We cannot embarrass Buck in front of his girl. He would not be happy about that.” - Steve said in a serious tone and looked at your face. You giggled and then nodded with a serious face.

“Why didn't I do this way sooner?” - Steve asked you seriously all of a sudden. Steve took his chance and caught your small hand in yours. He was shy in his gestures, that could be felt. 

"You like to ask this question a lot, don't you? That's obvious." - You giggled, being a bit drunk at that moment.

"Really? Tell me, then." - Steve teased you.

"Bucky wasn't telling you how amazing and breathtaking I even am. That's why." - You looked him in the eyes. Even someone who is completely deaf could hear that you're only messing with him. But he didn't even smile at that one.

"Yeah. That's what he was basically doing for the last two months while he was dating your colleague. I know why he was doing all of that and now I'm even glad that he was doing what he was doing." - Steve stood up and carefully took the flowers out of the vase. - "I think we can do something else tonight, what do you think about that?"

"I think that it sounds really exciting. I'm looking forward to that." - You got up with your tummy full of good food.

"That's the spirit." - He smiled widely.

Steve liked that you had an adventurous nature. You visited some places by the river, sitting at the benches and drank some coffee he had bought you. Nothing happened at that time you were together, you were just chilling and talking about all the things that have crossed your mind. When the deep night came and you got some chills, he covered you in his shirt and tried to warm you up in a hug from the back as you watched the water. He only stayed in his white t-shirt and his body wasn't showing any sign of being cold. He was as warm as a stove

You felt... Taken care of, you felt protected. You felt so warm from the inside as he protected you by his huge body, even when it did nothing against the cold. At least he tried to warm you up. His body felt like he's about to catch on fire any minute, so you had a proud smile on when you were inconspicuously nuzzling to the chest of the Captain America himself.

"Shouldn't we call a night? You're freezing." - The alcohol opened you up and you felt beautifully dizzy at that moment. You didn't have an idea that you weren't drunk at all, you were just in the bliss of happiness.

"No. I don't want you to go home yet." - You protested loudly with a giggle as you felt a hand crossing you're waist when Steve was shifting his weight on his legs.

"I don't want to leave you, don't worry. But what if I take you home and see you as soon as I can. Will that be alright, miss?" - He leaned his chin into the temple of your head. You had a feeling that if you wouldn't have such brutal goosebumps, Steve would not approach your body at any circumstances. He was a gentleman that he would be afraid if it wasn't too much for you to take for the first time.

Nobody knew it, and Steve wished to stay it that way, but he was a really physical person. He secretly loved to feel human touch, especially when it was a person who he felt affectionate about, someone who he liked. It was a miracle that he didn't purr as he held you in his arms. You were so small that Steve felt the need to hold you in his arms and to cover your body with his, which was so bigger.

"Promise?" - You said tightly, turning to hug him with your small arms. It was a tight hug, full of affection and warm feelings.

"That's definitely a promise, young lady. Now, let me take you home." - Steve slowly left off your body with a smile. He was emphatic - he knew that you'll be able to walk home because you already looked tired. Your feet on the high heels surely did hurt. So he caught you a taxi. In the end, you fell asleep on his shoulder with a tender smile on your lips. By the time you stopped at your apartment, you were soundly and loudly breathing, laying on his shoulder.

"Should I wait for you, mister?" - The driver looked at Steve when he was slowly figuring out how to get both you and the flowers safely out of the car without causing any damage. He held you in his arms tightly to let you know that he'll not let you go even when you were deeply asleep.

"Give me ten to fifteen minutes, have a cigarette and let the clock in your car on. I need to take her to her apartment." - Steve smiled at the man, taking the keys out of your purse. Steve took you to your apartment, to your bed and tugged you.

Steve loved your apartment. It was so small, yet it felt like home. You had so many photos of you and your friends all around, decored it all over with numerous small things. Your furniture was nice, modern, it smelled just as you did. You seemed to have a personal style, which he found cute. He watched you sleeping for a moment with a slight smile on his face.

He didn't want to leave at all, but he had to. So he leaned down to you, kissing your forehead lightly.

"I'm here now, you know?" - He sat down next to you, taking your palm to his, bringing your knuckles to his lips, knowing you can't hear him at all. - "I'm finally here and I swear to you that nothing will make me leave you from this moment. And old man's promise is the one you can count on."

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america #sweet guy #whatsapp #here we go #mcu

[har-rison-s]

hypnotize

request: Alright, you are lovely! So, my request is Ben!Roger coming back home after weeks and the reader preparing a special night for them, including a striptease with music and all. Then, an awesome night of sex and love and talking.

A/N: Let's pretend that Hypnotize by Notorious B.I.G./Biggie Smalls already existed in the 70s cause I DIG that song and it makes me think about Roger, it's a fitting song for him in my mind. Hope this meets your standards. Happy reading!

warnings: I don't usually put up warnings in smuts, and this is no exception. I like to surprise people ;) also this is quite long

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Tours that I'm not able to go to are the worst. There's the doubts, the neediness, the stress, the daydreams and the longing. That one's the worst. Sometimes I feel like tossing and turning around in my bed because I miss Roger so much. I miss talking to him, waking up to him, eating together, going to his shows and rehearsals.

Of course, I miss his touch and his hands and his other physical, god-like gifts. The sexual frustration makes me crazy, as well. Not like I don't want to touch myself when he's not here because 'no fun without your man'. It's because I don't want to. Rather wait for him than do it myself. Maybe I'm lazy?

But, Roger's finally coming back home tonight from Queen's UK and Europe tour, and I couldn't be more excited. Nerves are taking a hold on me, and, even thinking that I'll see him in a couple of hours makes me shiver. Cliche, of course, but I'll be wearing his favourite underwear set under my flowery dress. And—another cliche—I'm making dinner and putting on a show afterwards. It's the least I can do for my boyfriend being the wonderful man he is. 

“Now, now, there's the usual hook-up check.” I say, stretching the skin of his face softly here and there, checking for any trace of another female that might be left on him, even if accidentally. I've waited for them at the airport for what seemed like forever, and now, finally being able to hold him, I still can't resist my natural instincts. 

His band mates snicker at my check, and Roger sighs quietly, not resisting and just waiting for the whole thing to be over. No lipstick trace, no hickeys, no puffy lips and no marks at the roots of his hair—also no hair pulled out—he's clean. I leave his head alone and then press the longest kiss to Roger's lips I can remember us sharing between ourselves. I've missed him too much. I feel Roger completely relaxing against my lips, his arms tightening around my torso and pulling my chest closer against his. My boobs feel squashed.

“I've missed you.” Roger whispers when he pulls just a mere centimeter away, watching my lips as he traces his thumb over them. A tear rolls down my cheek, I can't believe he's really here again, although it's been three months—some might say 'only'. I smile wide at him.

“I've missed you more.” I reply. Our foreheads touch and I close my eyes, just enjoying this particular moment. 

“Two can play at that game, missy.” Roger says and I hear the smirk adorning his lips and giggle. Not so privately, he slaps his hand down on my bum and I shriek. “Let's get us home.” He says and I give him a smile. We turn around and say goodbye to the guys. We walk past them to get to an available taxi that will bring us right home.

Roger sighs once he and his suitcase have arrived home. I smile to myself, locking our apartment door and turning back around to Roger. “I hope you're hungry.” I say and Roger turns to me. He's put his jacket on a hanger and has quite the clueless look on his face. I grin and take his hand, pulling him towards our kitchen.

“I am. And very tired, as well.” He says and tugs along with me. I stop both of us at the table and Roger gasps quietly. I look at him, my head turned to him, and grin. He's seen the dinner and some silly decorations I chose. Nothing, really, but I liked them and thought they'd suit the occasion well. “Wow, baby.” Roger says and pulls me closer by my waist, pressing a kiss against my temple and I giggle. “Thank you, oh my. This looks wonderful.”

“So let's jump right in.” I say and walk over to the table, sitting down. Roger looks at me for a moment, and I raise my eyebrows. He walks over to the table to sit across me, and does exactly so. 

“I feel like we're in a restaurant.” He admits and we both chuckle, exchanging playful glances. “This might be nothing for you, but wow... Pasta with meat, tomato sauce, greens, and—what's this?”

I laugh at his confusion. “White carrots.” I say. He says it might be nothing for me because of my profession - I'm a chef at a restaurant. I make food for the two of us when either I have time on my hands or when we have a special occasion. It's a natural thing, but I like to leave most of it at work and not bring work home.  

“White carrots?!” Roger echoes and I nod. “What the hell are those?”

“They exist, believe it or not.” I reply and Roger laughs.

“Thought carrots were only orange.” He admits and I nod again. “Sorry I'm not that educated on the fancy vegetables, love.” He says and looks at me with sorry eyes, but I shake my head at him. 

“Bon appetit!” I say, taking my fork in my hand.

“Bon indeed.” Roger replies and takes his, as well. He digs into his portion immediately and moans. I watch his reaction, similar to the one he has when I go down on him, and it's bound to graze my eyes many times tonight. I smirk at that. “God, this is so good, Y/N. I might have just come in my pants.” He says and I watch his face while I laugh, but his is full of seriousness.

“Well, glad you like it.” I reply and take a few mouthfulls of the pasta as well. “It really is good.” I state and Roger nods.

“It's amazing, baby.” He says. “How did I get so lucky with you, huh?” Roger asks and nudges my foot with his. I grin, looking at him for exactly a split second. “You look wonderful today, by the way. Love this dress.” He says and I blush, wanting to hide it with my hand, but failing. Roger's got a smirk on his face as he keeps eating his pasta. “Hope dessert includes the dress on the floor.”

“Shut up.” I laugh quietly and straighten my back. “So, how was Europe? Well, half of it...”

“Strange, really. A lot less people than we have here.” Roger responds. I nod, listening for more. “And all of them can talk english—it surprised us, even the sweds!”

“You sound a bit arrogant, Rog.” I state and he sighs. 

“Just a culture shock! Nothing more,” he assures and I nod playfully, “ah, but the crowds and the welcoming was incredible.”

“Did you try any national foods?” I ask and he nods.

“I did! I photographed most of them, got the pictures in my case.” Roger tells me and I hum appreciatively. “Most of them were alright. Some were just crazy and too much other-wordly for me. Brian liked the ones that didn't have meat a lot. And there were few of those.” Roger says, raising his eyebrows. I chuckle. “And have you seen french and italian men? Christ! If it wasn't for you, I'd have nothing left to lose and—”

“Turn gay?” I finish his sentence, and scoff out a laugh. Is he serious?

“Yeah. You have to see those specimens.” He says, fully serious. I keep laughing, the thought of Roger looking at men with heart eyes makes me amused like nothing else. “Laugh at me all you want, but they're damn attractive.”

“Okay, Rog, do I have to fear that you'll run back off to some french barista?” I play along. Roger laughs and he shakes his head.

“Just have to keep me.” He answers. “Perhaps we could go for vacation to France.” He looks at me and I raise my eyebrows, nodding.

“My dream would finally come true, then.” I say. “Working in a Paris restaurant, living somewhere in a french cottage outside the city. Having the 'French diet' for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Roger looks at me confused.

“The 'French diet'?” He repeats. I grin.

“Coffee, cigarettes and sex.” I explain. Roger hums and nods.

“That does sound quite nice.” He admits and I chuckle. 

“Maybe a croissant here and there.” I say. Roger laughs. “Any new songs coming?”

Roger raises his eyebrows and tilts his head from side to side. “Yeah, I got some ideas, but not a song.” He says. “How have you been?”

I shrug and push another mouthful of pasta down my throat. “Nothing big.” I say. “Oh! One time there was a bachelor party at our place and guess what they ordered from us.” I look at him with a dead-serious face.

“The fianceé's portrait on a cake?” Roger suggests. I shake my head.

“The stupid cliché - a dick cake.” I answer and Roger bursts out laughing. “I know.” I say and shake my head, laughing as well.

“Didn't even know fancy places like yours did dick cakes!” He says and I laugh even more. 

“The worst part was,” I say and point my fork to myself, “I had to do it.” 

“Christ!” Roger exclaims and laughs again, throwing his head back. “Can't believe you had to go through that torture. When was it?”

“Uh, last Saturday.” I say once remembering. “And that was also the night we had the most costumers and I got a fish dropped on me.” I admit. Roger makes a disgusted face at me.

“Poor you, love.” He says with sympathy. I show him my tongue, which he smiles at, and look back down at my food. “Right, I'm already finished.” Roger says and leans into his chair with his back.

“Alright.” I stand up and walk over to the fridge, taking some whiskey and ice from it, and two glasses from the cabinet up above. I feel Roger's stare on my thighs, I know exactly what he's hungry for, what he's been missing for weeks on end. I grin and turn around, trying to get the satisfaction of it off my face. 

“Aw, no, I should've got that.” Roger starts to say, but I shake my head. “You've done enough already.”

“I ain't done yet, darling.” I say and place our glasses down on the table. Roger gives me a curious raise of an eyebrow and watches me pour the whiskey into the glasses. I put two ice cubes in each glass and sit back down, wrapping my right hand's fingers around my glass. “When do you get your next vacation?” I ask after taking a sip.

Roger squints and takes a gulp from his glass as well, continuing to eat his pasta. “Probably after we finish our album.” He replies, but then opens his eyes wider. “Oh, no, sorry. It's now.” Roger finally says and I laugh. “Forgot for a moment where we are in the year.”

“That's alright.” I say. “We should do something together with the time we have, then.” I suggest and lean back in my chair, and Roger does the same. I notice his plate is empty and immediately rise back up, taking both our plates in hand and bringing them to the sink. 

“Now, those I will definitely do.” Roger says and I hear him get up from his chair, but I turn around quickly.

“Roger, just relax.” I say and point to the exit of our kitchen. “Go to the living room, alright?” I ask of him and my hand drops to my side. Roger watches my eyes for a moment, searching for any faltering or unseriousness, but there's none to find. 

“Yes, ma'am.” He answers and is off to the room in seconds. I chuckle at his eagerness and turn back to the plates. I scoff then, and put the plates in the washing machine. I ain't doing no dishes tonight.

I walk into the hallway where our record player stands and choose Roger's favourite sexy vinyl. I chuckle at that and remember the moment he called it that. I put the vinyl on the player and slowly put the needle on the vinyl. I love the sound of the vinyl's scratches before the music starts playing, and during the songs. It makes the whole listening experience much better. 

The heavy beats of Notorious B.I.G.'s first song on the album play through-out our walls, and I close my eyes as I walk towards the living room. Roger's standing in the middle of it, and I lean against the doorframe. 

“Sit down, love.” I say softly, which surprises him and he turns around. He eyes me up and down and then does as told. I don't like ordering or commanding him, it feels stupid when I tell him to do anything. There's a strange feeling in me when I do, but I don't mean it in a commanding or bossy way. This time I mean it differently.

Roger sits down and watches me walk over to stand in front of him, he then realises what song is playing—Hypnotize—and his head moves to the beat naturally. I smile at the response and shake my hips a little. Just a snippet from what I usually dance like when I'm home alone and this record is on. 

His legs are parted slightly, and his hands are by his sides as he watches me move slowly over to him. My legs move slowly, and it's torturing him but also turning him on. The tent in his white pants is growing by the second, I grin. 

I put my hands on his knees and spread them wider apart. While I run my hands up and down his thighs, I raise my head to watch his face change. His eyes are completely taken over by desire, barely keeping his beautiful orbs on me. 

“Does this feel like home, Rog?” I ask sweetly, stopping my hands where his thighs meet his hipbones, gripping his thighs tightly. He whimpers and nods, his hand reaching up to take my cheek and bring it closer to him. My lips fall on his—the moment I've waited for all evening—and I sigh against Roger, completely melting into him. But I pull back and stand up, barely holding myself on my feet. I can't wait to have him all over me, holding me, inside me.

I pull my dress ever so slowly over my body, moving my hips from side to side once in a while. I hear Roger moaning once while the dress still goes over my head, and when it's finally on the floor, Roger's jaw drops to the floor. 

I stand before him in the pink set of underwear that Roger so much loves, my hair moved over to the side from the dress. Roger's head hangs back against the sofa and he groans softly. “My god, baby...” He whispers, moving his leg around so his turn-on would feel more comfortable in the strained pants, and then looks back at me. I grin and stride back to him.

My legs are on each of his sides, straddling his lap, and I put my hands on his shoulders, then moving them up and down his biceps. I look into Roger's eyes and smile again. “Welcome home, Roger.” I say and kiss him. My hands go up to his cheeks, holding his face so that I can kiss him better.

Roger's hands are uncontrollable, they're moving over my bare back and waist in a quick pace as he pants between our slow kisses. I still want to tease the shit out of him, because nothing gives me an ego-boost like seeing him whimper and weaken because of me, under my touch. I kiss his lips slowly, stretching the moments in which our lips are parted, and then delve back in. I slip my tongue between his lips and Roger moans loudly, his grip tightening on my hips. 

I move them against his thighs slowly, barely reaching my clothed core against his about-to-burst hard-on. Roger started to trail kisses down my neck, but my movements distract him and he hangs his head back against the sofa. I can't lose his attention on me, although I can't really complain.

“Roger...” I call for him and he looks at me with raised eyebrows, “please give me more.” I ask and bite my lip, feeling something building up in the depths of my core. 

“What do you want, baby?” Roger asks and moves his hands down to my thighs, going up and down. I whimper, craving more of him and his touch. 

“Touch me.” I whisper and my fingers slip past the borders of his pants, slipping inside his boxers. Roger stiffens when I grab onto his length, but lets out an animalistic groan when my hand moves up and down. 

“Fuck, love,” he says and sits up straighter so he'd have a more comfortable reach. Roger moves his right hand down to my underwear and wastes no time, reaching right past the elastic and in between my folds. I fall against Roger's chest and his assault on my clit brings my hip movements to a stop, “like that? You like it when I touch you like that?” 

I nod and moan against his neck, my lips stopping open in a kiss on his skin. With his other hand, Roger helps me move my hips up and down on his hand in a certain rhythm, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, but it keeps slipping away. My hand keeps slowly pumping him, and Roger returns moans and grunts to me in response. His two fingers are digging into me and he curls them, which makes me release a sound similar to a scream. 

Roger reaches his free hand to my face and moves my face from his neck to above him, making our eyes connect. “Are you gonna cum, baby?” Roger asks in a challenging manner. I nod again, and my orgasm feels so close I can practically reach out and touch it with my fingertips. Roger shakes his head. “You're not coming unless it's on my cock.” He says and his words bring me to the edge. If it wasn't for him pulling out his fingers, I would've really come, but now I have to hold it in. 

I pull my hand out of Roger's jeans to help him rid of them, sitting down next to him. I would have stood up, but my own legs are too wobbly. Roger takes off his boxers and immediately pulls my underwear down, as well. He stands up and lifts me off the sofa before laying me down on the floor. I give him a careful glance, but Roger just winks.

“There's not so much room there, is it?” He asks and leans down to me, his elbows resting on the carpet at each of my shoulders. His eyes are so hooded it seems he'll fall asleep any second now, and he only watches my eyes, his finger stroking the side of my face. “I could lay here and look at you like this for the rest of my life...” he admits, his voice sounding like a high pitched whisper. His falsetto is showing. I breathe out a chuckle and then stifle it immediately.

“Are you going to stare at me or fuck me?” I whisper, my thumb going over his sideburn while my fingers thread through his curls. Roger immediately shuffles his legs around and grabs onto my hips roughly, making me whimper and my back lifts off the carpet. 

“Think we both know the answer to that, princess.” He says and I feel him pushing his length inside me slowly until he's filling me up completely. Roger relaxes against me once he's all the way in and groans heavenly. I watch his eyelids flutter and his lips part, and I trace my thumb over his lower lip softly. “Fuck, I've missed this.” Roger says and his head falls against my chest. My hand drops onto his back and I breathe out deeply, moaning at the very end at how he feels inside me. I've missed this, as well, Roger being so good to me in every way he can. Touching every inch of my walls with his cock. 

“Please, move.” I beg him and Roger lifts his head in a second, grinning at me. He pulls out and then moves his hips back against mine, filling me up again and I throw my head back from the horribly ecstatic feeling. My hands tug at Roger's back and he presses kisses around my clothed breasts while his thrusts in and out of me increase their pace.

Roger puts his hands on the back of each of my thighs and hikes my legs up higher so that he can go even deeper into me, and he succeeds. The moan that leaves my lips is so high-pitched I fear that he may not top it even with his falsetto. My pelvis hurts from the spread, and I realise that our time apart has payed off badly. I'm not as used to him as I was. God, why? Why me?

“Roger,” I call for him softly, my voice laced with uncomfortablity, and he looks at me with furrowed brows. He notices the slightly pained expression on my face and halts his movements.

“What is it, baby? What did I do? Did I h-hurt you?” He asks and I nod barely noticably, there's even a tear at the corner of my eye. Regrettably. I've waited for this for three whole months. Stupid—“We can stop, I'm sorry.” Roger says and pulls out of me, and I whine at the loss of him. I feel so miserable now, so stupid. I wanted this, I didn't even think my body forgot... things. “Aw, don't cry, my love.” Roger says, but it does the opposite of stopping some stupid tears falling. I sit up and wipe them off quickly and look at Roger. My hand immediately reaches out to stroke him, and Roger wants to let me, but shakes his head. “It's alright, love, you don't have to—“ he interrupts himself with a sigh as I move my thumb over his tip, “go on.” Roger encourages me. He knows what he wants and needs, and also that I'm very stubborn.

I work his hard length and it makes Roger's forehead fall against my chest, only my name and heavy breaths leaving his lips. He tries to kiss my skin, but his kisses fade every time he starts. What does the trick and makes him come in seconds—he's already very impatient tonight and won't last long, I can tell—is me running my tongue over his lips and licking over his own. Roger comes, moaning my name in a high-pitched and high-volumed whines, his body shaking in short spasms, and I feel his cum already shooting out of him. I quickly move to sit in his lap and bend my back over his leg, letting his white ribbons decorate my bare stomach.

Roger almost loses his consciousness at the sight before him—me laying over his leg, his cum all over my stomach and my eyes watching his intently. My breasts are pushed up and my hair is sprawled all around my head. He thinks I'm a work of literal art, I can read that in his barely open eyes. 

“Fuck.” He says in a breathy whisper. Roger's hair is wild - the closest strands to his face are sticky with sweat, but the rest are going in every other direction. I sigh and chuckle, and Roger looks down at me with a grin, his eyes dreamy. He's on his knees, leg pulled up from underneath me, and looking menacingly down at me. “Might need to repay the favour, eh?” He asks and leans down to my level. I nod. 

“But not now.” I say before he can do anything. I'm still too sensitive. He raises an eyebrow at me, and then moves to lay next to me on his back. 

“Mind telling me what was the matter?” He asks, turning his head to look at me. His hand sneakily reaches for mine and laces our fingers together. I look down at them, and then quickly at him, but returning my eyes to the ceiling afterwards. 

“It hurt when you spread my legs apart.” I tell him. “I guess my body has forgot what it felt like having you inside me.” I admit and huff. 

“We have time to remind it.” Roger smiles and I chuckle breathily. 

“Didn't even think something like that could happen.” I say and then shake my head. “I'm sorry, Rog, that your welcome home present failed. I thought everything would be perfect...” Roger shakes his head now.

“It is perfect.” He says. “Believe me, it can happen to anyone, the body just... has a vacation.” Roger explains and I giggle at his choice of words. “Just do more stretches and read it up in your girl magazines. Don't be sorry.” I keep giggling. “Hey, I mean it. Don't you laugh!” 

“Sorry, love,” I reply and look at him. He smiles wide at me and I return the gesture.

“Love you so much, Y/N.” He says, holding onto my cheek with his palm. “Don't you ever think you're any less than perfect, my girl.”

I smile into his hand and kiss the inside of it softly. I kiss up his hand until the middle of his forearm and then kiss his lips. It's sincere and full of love and understanding. “I love you, too.” I say. “I'm so glad you're home.”

Roger pulls me even closer to him by my waist. “'M glad to be home.” He admits and I smile wider, getting comfortable with my head against his chest. “Are we gonna stay here forever, then?” Roger asks, breaking the comfortable silence and I laugh. 

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[rogerlad]

Delectation Part Three- Brian May x Fem Reader

A/N: Alright here is part Three! Sorry it took so long, I’ve been very ill. Enjoy!

Part One | Part Two

Word Count: 1.6 K

Tag List: @rogerinascigarette @anchoredbylove @spitsss@shesadramaqueen @shishterfackisback @herewegoagainniall @dumbthotsonly @ceruleanrainblues @hypottercrisy @adamsandlersrealdaughter

Part Three- Cardinals 

You sighed before removing yourself from Brian’s lap. He looked up at you with pleading eyes, as if he wanted you to decide for him. You had. Of course you had, because it was the easiest decision one could make. You loved Brian, you had since the moment he annoyed you on the train to London. You loved him so much, you still had his black socks rolled up in the back of your chest of drawers. You had kept every letter he had written, every souvenir from his tours; The train stub from that fateful day, was hidden away in your jewellery box. 

“You really can’t have one without the other?” You asked, brows raised high. He leaned his head back against the couch. 

“No, Y/N. I can’t. It won’t work. If I’m away with the band, you’ll leave. If I try to stay with you as much as possible, the band will fail. It won’t work. Pre-destined chaos.” He grumbled. His eyes shut for a moment, he let out a deep sigh, before looking up at you again. You crossed your arms over you chest. This is it. You thought.

“It’s the band, Bri. It always has been, and it always will be.” He sat up at your words, more than puzzled. You felt yourself ready to cry, but you refused. You had to stand firm on your decision. This was for Brian. He needs them more than you.

“If you refuse to let us live this life together, then go to the boys. It’s what you truly want, we both know this. It’s been about the lads since that day, back at the shabby old studio.” You let out a sad giggle at the fond memory. He was standing now, staring down into your eyes, praying you were joking.

“Y/N, what are you....what are you saying?” He looked so sad, and it broke your heart to see him this way. 

“I’m saying, the choice is made. You choose Queen, Brian. You always choose, Queen. That’s okay. I found what I was looking for in London, Brian.” You let a tear slip, and he quickly wiped it away with his thumb.

“It was me, wasn’t it?” He whispered. You could only nod, choking back sobs that longed to escape. He pulled you in to a warm embrace. You sighed against his chest, before allowing yourself to hug him back. 

“I don’t want to do this Brian, but you know I have to.” You looked up into his eyes, plucking a few stray strands of hair away from his face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I wanted you to come first, always.” His voice was sad, and you nodded in understanding. 

“I know you did, Brian. I know.”

Cardinals

You and Brian walked down the street hand in hand, soaking up the beautiful sunshine that the day had to offer. You would blush every time he’d steal a glance at you, and every time you blushed, he’d let out a soft chuckle.

“We’re here!” He announced, walking up the steps to an unfamiliar building.

“This is the studio?” You asked, slightly unsure. He nodded, ducking under the doorframe, and leading you down a poorly lit hall. 

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled. “S’all we can really afford right now.” He was bashful, and you immediately felt guilty. 

“It’s quant.” You suggested.

“You’re a poor liar.”

“You’re a bad kisser.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Oh really?”

“Would you two get a room, already?” A blonde hair boy called at you and Brian. Your face went white, and Bri let out a large laugh.

“Fuck off Rog.” He rolled his eyes, pulling you into the recording booth.

“Right, so. Y/N, this is Deaky.” The brown haired boy waved at you. “Freddie.” You got a wicked, toothy grin. “And Roger.” The blonde boy from the hallway winked at you. You blushed. “Rog, Deaky, Fred, this is Y/N.” The boys all greeted you with warm hello’s, shaking your hand, asking if you were indeed the ‘Train Girl.’ The statement causing Brian to blush.

“Lovely to meet you all. I’ve heard heaps and loads about Queen, it’s finally nice to see them in action.” You put on your sweetest smile, hoping it would cover up the nerves that were buried deep within the pit of your stomach. After a few moments, you settled into a chair next to the sound technician, and the boys began to play. You were able to nod along to a few chords, having been familiar with them from Brian. It had only been a month since you had arrived in London, but nearly every day was spent with him. When he wasn’t busy with school or the band. You had found part time work at a local bookstore, which was usually quiet, and you were usually thankful. 

“How are you liking it so far?” John asked you, stepping out of the recording booth for a moment, to fetch a drink.

“It’s amazing!” You beamed. “I especially liked your riff on that last one.” He gave you a genuine smile.

“Brian’s taught you a thing or two about guitar’s, yeah?” You nodded up at him, while he took a long drink.

“He hardly stops playing, but I love it.”

“Think he loves you more than that guitar of his.” John chuckled before returning into the booth. Your stomach formed a large knot, and you felt a little faint. Love? Brian had noticed the uneasy look on your face, but he knew if he’d stopped playing, Freddie would have a proper fit. You composed yourself, aware that his eyes were lingering on you, and returned to the state of moving your head to the music. Although, your mind was elsewhere, entirely. 

“So what did you think?” He asked, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. You smiled up at him.

“Wonderful.” You hummed. Brian flashed you a toothy grin, canines and all, before grabbing a towel to dab the beads of sweat away from his forehead. You followed him to the other side of the lounge area, where the boys had already claimed the couch. You gently took the cloth from his hand, and wiped his head for him. He smiled down at you.

“This is going to be amazing.” He sighed, wrapping his lengthy arms around you. You nodded, continuing to blot down his face and neck. “This is what I need. I feel it, Y/N. Queen is really going to go far. How can it not?” You paused for a moment, pleased to hear how proud Brian was.

“It really is, Bri.” You bit down on your lip, wrapping your own arms around his neck now.

“I hope you’ll be there, every step of the way.” He whispered. You smiled at him, your heart pounding a fierce rhythm. 

“‘Course I will be.” You leaned up and kissed his lips gently.

“Oy! You lot are going to ruin my appetite.” Roger snickered from across you. You giggled against Brian’s lips, before he pecked them again. “‘M serious, we’re going to grab food, you coming?” He called, as the rest of the band stood waiting at the door. Brian raised his brows at you, and you nodded.

The sun was warm, and you embraced it, even through squinted eyes as you left the small building. Brian, clasped his large hand around yours as you trailed behind the boys. You were making your way to a local deli, which John claimed made the best cheese sandwich. 

“You look very pretty today.” Brian said, stopping you on the path. You couldn’t fight back the blush that grew on your cheeks.

“Thank you, Bri.” He smiled at you, before walking towards a bush outside a shop, plucking a white flower from the pot.

“Here, for you, my love.” You playfully rolled your eyes, accepting the small gift.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” You cooed, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. You continued to walk, again. One hand in Brian’s, the other holding the small flower at your side. 

“Y/N.” He spoke softly. You still walked, slowly behind the others, who were caught up laughing about some bar night.

“Yes?”

“I really do love you.” You looked up at him, and he was staring at you intently, as he walked, nearly bumping into a few pedestrians passing by. You chuckled, lightly, before letting out a deep sigh.

“I love you too.” You said quietly. His brows raised up, and a small grin pulled at his lips. 

“Well that’s a relief.” He let out a laugh, you squeezed his hand tightly as you walked along, before spotting a red cardinal sitting on the fence post outside the Deli Shop.

“Oh look, Bri!” You pointed towards the bird.

“Very lovely, indeed.” He pulled you into his chest, admire the bird himself.

“You know, they say it’s a sign from a loved one.” 

“Really?” He asked, kissing your hair.

“I hope it’s my mum.” You said barely a whisper. Brian’s grip tightened on you. It wasn’t a topic you liked to speak of, and he respected this. 

“I’m certain it is, darling.” He cooed into your ear. The bird took off, at the sound of Freddie’s and Roger’s laughter. You smiled. So did Brian.

“I miss her a lot, you know.”

“I know. You can always talk about her to me. You can talk to me about anything.” He said, sweetly.

“I know.”

“Y/N, you’ll always come first, okay?” He added. You felt in your heart his words meant well, but there was no way, they could be true. 

“Brian?” You spun around to face him. Admiring the way the sunlight hit his eyes.

“Mhm?”

“I’m so happy I’ve come to London.” You brushed your fingers along the stubble on his chin.

“As, am I. Now, let’s eat. We can talk about the Cardinals later.” He grinned, leading you into the small shop, leading you into a whirlwind of adventure.

And now, here you sat, on a train, across from no one in particular. You watched out the window, this time, not regretting your decision to climb on board. Your book lay open before you, and in your hands you clutched a small ticket. A ticket home. A ticket leading you away from the life you had with Brian. 

The End. 

#rogerlad #Brian May #brian may fluff #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #delectation #part three #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fluff