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blog-sliverofjade · 3 years

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Of Doms & Subs 4: Bribery Will Get You Everywhere

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary: What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 2315

Of Doms & Subs Master List

Sleeping in was something I used to enjoy. Nestled in warm sheets while the world outside continued to turn, safe in a cozy cocoon. After the Change, it was no longer so peaceful. Although the house was decently soundproofed for humans, I could hear water running as someone showered. The buzz of an electric razor. Clinking of dishes in the kitchen. After ten minutes of hiding with a pillow over my head, I gave up and burrowed out of the nest of blankets. I was just pulling my shirt on when Mickayla knocked. A thrill of pride ran through me for recognizing her scent. I was getting better at this!

“Mornin’,” I called out and she came in at the tone of invitation in my greeting.

“How was your little adventure last night?” she grinned.

“Mortifying,” I grumped while tugging a brush through my hair.

“So if I tell you that there’s a betting pool on when you’d make a break for it we can see if werewolves die of embarrassment?” Her grin deepened to flash a lot of pretty, white teeth.

“How about you give me a cut and I don’t throw my dirty, wet socks in your face?” I started to reach for the duffel full of dirty clothes. She laughed and handed me a couple of bills, which I stuffed into a pocket without counting. “Next time let me know, I’m not above taking a fall.”

“There’s going to be a next time?” A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose.

“Eugene and Seattle aren’t all that far.” I turned away to wrestle my hair into a ponytail. One look in the mirror confirmed that there was no hiding the marks from Angus’ bite, so might as well own it. “I’m sure I could get a babysitter to come with.” There, that barely had any bitterness to it.

“Don’t think of it that way,” she shook her head so that the blonde waves swayed back and forth. “Think of it more like sexy bodyguards.” I laughed in spite of myself. “Speaking of which.” There was a glint in her sea-blue eyes that suddenly made me very suspicious. “You’ll want to swear off humans for awhile until you get used to your new strength. Don’t want to break your toys.”

I stared at her in confusion until comprehension crashed over me, immediately followed by a furious blush. “That is certainly not an issue. Happily single since the divorce became final last year.”

“Ah,” said Mickayla knowingly, and I belatedly remembered with no small amount of chagrin that she was a therapist. “That’s why you’re so determined to not get involved with a pack. Too much commitment.”

“Ugh, it’s too early for psychoanalysis,” I groaned, rubbing at my face.

“Come on, cranky pants, let’s get you some breakfast. New wolves are kinda like kids. If they’re cranky, do they need food or sleep? Antsy? Then they need to go run off some energy.” She linked her arm and in mine as we set off for the kitchen.

“Gee, thanks for that glowing comparison,” I said snidely.

“And in your case, maybe caffeine.”

“Give me tea and nobody gets hurt,” I pronounced solemnly.

“Threatening bodily harm before nine am, are you sure she’s submissive?” asked a man who had come out of a room behind us, also evidently on the hunt for breakfast.

“Watch this.” Mickayla fixed me with a glare and before I even knew it my neck bent against my will till my throat was bared to her. And she hadn’t even drawn on any power. I glared at her from the corner of my eye and my face grew flaming hot.

“I wanna try,” he said. I met his dark brown eyes with no small amount of anger that he thought he could control me so easily. “How? I’m more dominant than you,” he sputtered at Mickayla in confusion. She laughed and wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders.

“She doesn’t know or respect you, Brian. Neither her or her wolf are gonna roll over for some stranger unless he seriously pulls rank. Do you think Alan would for just any old wolf?” she asked the somewhat forlorn wolf.

“Who’s Alan?” At the stairs, Mickayla released us and led the way down with Brian in back so that I was sandwiched between them. It seemed automatic, like their instincts to protect subtly guided their movements.

“Our submissive and resident quack,” Brian answered. I automatically started to bristle at labeling any healer with such an epithet. That thought was pushed out when it occurred to me that if they had both a submissive and a female, then they probably had no need of another.

“I’d like to see you call him that the next time he has to patch you up,” she said dryly.

The kitchen was sized and equipped to feed a small army. Come to think of it, was there any difference between that and a pack? People moved in vaguely organized chaos, piling plates with bacon, sausage, eggs, hashbrowns, and various baked goods before moving to the dining room on the far side. Mickayla reached around someone, who was busy wrestling the Danish that he wanted from the rest of the basket, grabbed two plates and handed one to me. Being small meant I could easily dart around and through people to get in and out quickly, but I had no idea what the protocol was for seating arrangements so I stuck close to Mickayla and Matt, who’d joined us.

I had never seen a dining table so big, at least a dozen people were already sitting and there was room for more. It was obviously custom made. The kitchen also had a table that was pushed up against the main one so that everyone could be seated. I gave Mickayla raised eyebrows in question.

“You get our fearless leader’s right hand side. Normally that’s Tom’s, Angus’ second, but since he’s not here you get it as our honoured guest,” she said with only a hint of teasing. I gave her a grateful look before taking the seat in question. I stifled my surprise when she and Matt sat to my left. Evidently they were high in the hierarchy to sit next to the second, which I thought was a silly term when Beta would have made much more sense.

“Shane and Matt will be ready to hit the road by 10:30,” Angus said casually after I’d made some headway into my meal, trying my best to ignore him. Why he thought I’d be safer with two strange werewolves than on my own, I would never understand. But Matt couldn’t be all bad if Mickayla had married him.

“So soon?” I asked just as casually as I liberally doused my hashbrowns with salt and pepper. “I thought I might stick around and get to know ya’ll better. If I have to give up my job, there’s not much of a reason to go back to Oregon right away. Unless that would be an issue?” Put two or more intelligent beings in a room together and politics could spontaneously erupt in a vacuum. Visiting a pack in another state before even meeting the one back home could potentially cause more than an eruption.

The room went eerily silent as the others waited to see what their Alpha would say. Most of them seemed to be mildly surprised and curious. I was pretty sure they had all noticed the mark on my neck, but no one had said anything nor given it a second glance. Despite the weird fluttery feeling of fear in my chest, I managed to actually look him in the face. Not the eye, of course, but his strong chin, which was one of his few physical aspects that said Alpha. Maybe that was because I always had trouble seeing men with weak chins as dominant.

“The Eugene Pack was hard-pressed to welcome you on such short notice, so no feathers will be ruffled. And despite what that crazy lone wolf might have put in your head, you are free to travel.” He gave a small smile that eased some of the tension that had somehow crept into my shoulders. I was no Helen of Troy, but the apparent rarity of submissive females and the territoriality of werewolves could create a powder keg waiting to go off. As much as I enjoyed yanking his chain, any fallout could affect both packs and they didn’t deserve that.

Mickayla made a “gimme” gesture at Brian, who sat a few seats down from her. He sighed and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Haven’t you learned not to bet against my mate yet?” Matt shook his head.

“Hey, didn’t she only go out with you because of a bet?” Brian retorted.

“Yeah, and even though I won, I still ended up losing,” Mickayla said with mock ruefulness. The banter and round of chuckles said that it was an old joke.

“Speaking of sore losers,” I said to her with a pointed look, “I have some wet, dirty socks in dire need of a wash if there’s a washing machine I could use?”

“I’ll show you where we keep our poor beleaguered beast chained up in the basement,” Shane offered as he stood up with his empty plate. I followed suit since I was done as well. Mickayla surreptitiously slipped me a tenner as I passed, which immediately went into my back pocket.

“Don’t scare the poor girl!” someone called out.

“Eh, she’s seen your face and it hasn’t run her off yet.” The teasing faded only slightly as I tagged along behind Shane.

“O captain, my captain,” Mickayla said without a trace of mockery. There never was with her. “If I may beg an audience?” I nodded with a small smile that conveyed exactly what I thought of her false formality.

“Since it’s our duty to woo the new girl, some of us were thinking of showing her around town,” Mickayla said once we were ensconced in my office. I had a suspicion that the others she was thinking of had no inkling of their implication in her plotting yet.

“Considering how she navigated rush hour traffic to evade Tom, I’d say she knows the area pretty well.” Neither the wolf nor I liked the idea of Ellie leaving our sight. I propped one hip on my desk without a care that it put my head slightly lower than if I were standing. Like most of my wolves, she was taller than me anyway and she had never been anything other than proper. Oh sure, she would skirt the bounds of propriety when the situation allowed for it, but never in a manner that would call my authority into question.

“It might be good for her to get out and see that we’re not as draconian as that John made us out to be.” Translation: prove to her she’s not going to lose all of her freedom or she’ll bolt again.

“If you are going to manipulate me, you’re going to have to do a better job than that.” While her point was valid, I was not about to let her think I would cave so easily.

“You can talk at her until you’re blue in the face, but she won’t understand the benefits of a pack until she sees it,” said Mickayla. “She’s only staying because the evil that you know is better and partly to tweak your tail.” I raised an eyebrow at that observation. “Ellie’s a modern woman suddenly thrown into submissive wolf mentality and those instincts scare the daylight out of her. So she’s going to make us all work for it before she settles down.”

“Dominance is dictated by a person’s nature before the Change,” I shook my head. “She’s submissive because she was as a human.”

“I think her ex-husband did a number on her, or maybe John, or both,” she said with a small frown, which I mirrored at the thought of what might have happened to her. “That’s why she’s so prickly with any male who tries to play power games with her, like verbally bitch-slapping the guys last night. If she can relax where there aren’t so many wolves, she might tell me more.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked after regarding her thoughtfully for several beats. Part of that time was spent contemplating tearing apart Ellie’s ex.

“Hit Pike’s Place until she realizes she’s not ready for so much public. One or two of us should be able to help her keep control.” Mickayla’s smile was far too predatory to belong on the face of a therapist.

“One of the biggest tourist traps on a three-day weekend?” I asked in disbelief and gave her the look that idea deserved.

“She still thinks of herself as human and she’s likely to screw up pretty badly until she sees that. The sooner we get that out of the way, the sooner she might calm down,” she pointed out.

“Take Matt and Shane with you,” I sighed and waved at her to go. Not only were they good muscle, but they were both married, even if Shane’s wife was human.

“Technically this is pack business, especially since she would work well with Alan, both as a medic and a sub.” If she’d said anyone other than Alan, my hackles would’ve gone up. Their temperaments, although both being submissive, weren’t suited for mating. And I got the feeling that Ellie liked her men dominant, despite what she may say. I affected a much put-upon sigh, drew out my wallet, selected a credit card, and passed it to the blonde. She accepted it with both hands, kissed the simple ring on my middle finger, then flashed a smile and a wink before dashing off to find her charge.

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

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No Surrender: Part 2

Part 1

Request: hey i love your writing!! i was wondering if you could write something where the ready and bucky are in the same hydra facility and try to escape together. idk maybe that’s bad but i love your writing!!

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: In the winter of 1945 Hydra captures Sargent James Barnes. After months spent unconscious, he wakes up in a cell with you and a new addition on his left side. Quickly it becomes clear that being locked up together may be the best bout of luck either of you has had in a while… Maybe together the two of you have a chance of making it out of this hell alive. Now, 69 years later the two of you are brought back together, scars and all. War changes everyone it touches but maybe, together, you can both find some kind of peace.

Warnings: Light angst, heavy emotions, that’s really it

A/N: Lol, one shot. I know better. This is prob going to be a 3 part with an epilogue. Why? Because this is A Few Marvelous Thoughts and that’s how things are done here. The stories are long and the writer is overly invested in ALL OF THEM. And, honestly, I kind of liked doing something that brought the Howlers into the mix and some Peggy and... yeah. I’m just enjoying myself. I hope y’all enjoy it too!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4@piensa-bonito @buckysstar @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @handplucked @krugeforeveryone @jewelofwinter @get-loki @just-a-littlebit-of-everything

June 2014

You stare at your muted reflection in the airplane window tracing the scar on your cheek. It’s not quite as visible as it once was but you can feel it all the same.

Pulling your eyes away you check the screen on the back of the seat in front of you. One more hour until DC. It had been 69 years, what was one more hour… Still, you can’t keep your heeled foot from jiggling nervously.

Opening your iPad you look over the files Sharon sent you, thinking as you often do just how much easier this kind of tech would have made yours and Peg’s lives back in the day.

You wish Stark was here to give him shit for not coming up with this sooner. Thinking of your old friends always brings a sad smile to your face. Absentmindedly you fiddle with the dog tags and wedding rings always hanging around your neck from a long chain.

Steve and someone named Wilson had brought him in. Physically he was fine, some minor injuries but nothing to cause concern. Mentally… severe memory loss, disorientation, disassociation, PTSD, on and on. Quickly you scroll past it all, you didn’t need to read about it to know that a lifetime with Hydra could leave a person fractured. At the end was what you wanted. A photo.

He looked much the same. Dark hair and those spectacular blue eyes but… he was changed, even in a photo, you could see that. Really though you were all changed. Not one of you left that war or any of the ones that followed without wounds that wouldn’t heal.

Tenderly your fingers touch the image on the screen. You’re lost in memories of a day so long ago that the flight attendant startles you when she approaches.

“Sorry, ma'am,” she smiles brightly, “would you like another gin and tonic before we land?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” It wouldn’t do anything to calm your nerves of course, but you liked the taste.

The first sip reminds you you’ll also need to see Peg… it got harder every time. Silently you pray to anything that will listen for her to be lucid so you can tell her you found him, finally after all these years. Sharon said that seeing Steve helped her, he brought back the old Peg. Maybe you’d get lucky. Though… guilt roils in your gut.

You’d spent the last couple of years actively avoiding Steve Rogers. All you could think was that you could only give him a story of regret, one more may have been. He didn’t need that. Something in your heart reminds you though, you have more than that to give him. Stories of his old friends no one else could tell. How the Howlers never forgot him, how every toast until the very end held his name… and Bucky’s. What kind of legacy he really left with the people that mattered.

A tear winds its way down your cheek and you dash it away. You’d make up for it now. Tell them both the rest of their story. Maybe it would be a comfort.

When the wheels meet the tarmac your heart lodges in your throat. You rush off the plane to the nearest restroom to inspect yourself. In the floor length mirror, you smooth a hand over your breezy white blouse tucked into a pair of camel high waist trousers. The slim straight fit showed off your figure just enough. To anyone, you would look like a woman in her early 40’s maybe. A few grey hairs, soft lines on your face, but still young enough and certainly not 94.

You take a shaky breath, reapply your red lipstick, and stride confidently out of the airport, ready as you’ll ever be.

From the outside, it looks like a nondescript, if not a touch run down, office building. You know it’s an old S.H.I.E.L.D. office. They’re holding him here, assessing him, trying to figure out exactly what to do in a situation that bucks just about every bit of protocol there is in one way or another.

“Thank you,” you say to the agent in the front seat.

Your accent had softened over the decades. This thought makes worry curl in your gut. The chances of him recognizing you are so slim. You were older, your voice was different… Hell, the report said he had trouble remembering Steve and they’d known one another their whole lives until the war. He’d only known you for a day…

“Are you ok?” The young man asks gently.

“Yes, sorry…” Your hand curls around the handle.

“Don’t know why they’re sending someone like you in with a monster like that. If you don’t wanna to go I’ll take you to your hotel or some-”

Your well-manicured hand wrapped around his throat cuts him off, “If that’s what you think that man is,” your voice a malicious purr, “I highly suggest you find a new line of work, boy.” You release him and go to open the door.

Turning back to him you catch his slack-jawed expression, “That man deserves your respect. Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes ma’am,” he stammers.

“Good,” you open the door and step out, strutting up to the building, adding just a touch of extra sway to your hips for good measure.

At the door, you push a button to activate the com, “Y/N Bernard, here for Sharon Carter.” There’s no response just a click.

As you enter the sparse lobby you hear the elevator ding, the doors swoosh, your body tenses on reflex. When a blonde with a bright smile exits though, you relax.

“Aunt Y/N!” Sharon calls, her tone full of excitement. She rushes you and you embrace your best friend’s favorite niece. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too my darling,” you pull the girl back and look at her. So much like her mother but she inherited Peggy’s fire.

“Come on, let’s get started.” You follow her into the elevator.

As the doors close and the elevator moves down, you reach into your tote to pull out a small box, “I never forget, mon chaton.”

Sharon laughs, taking the box from you, “You didn’t have to.” She lifts one of the macarons out, taking a bite, savoring it.

“Bah,” you wave away her protest, “of course I did.” Every time you saw Sharon you brought her some. Her whole life.

She takes a deep shaky breath, closing the lid, “Thank you Aunt Y/N.” Tenderly you cup the side of her face with your left hand, she shakes her head, “I’m ok.”

“No, you’re not. Nor should you be,” you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as the elevator settles. “I’m here for you, always, you know that?”

“I do.” The doors slide open and you follow your adopted niece out. Heart kicking up a notch.

Sharon leads you down a corridor to a conference room. A young man with a kind smile rounds the corner just before she opens the door.

“Hey, Sam,” Sharon nods at him.

“Hey,” he returns the nod. “You must be Mrs. Bernard. Sam Wilson, it’s good to meet you,” he extends a hand and you take it giving it a shake.

“It’s, miss,” you say smiling. “But you can call me, Y/N. Thank you for what you did.”

Sam shakes his head, “Just helping out a fellow soldier, no need for thanks.”

“You have it anyway,” you smile, liking this young man already.

Sharon opens the door and your eyes see, not initially Steve Rogers as you expect, but Tony Stark. Once he registers who you are his jaw hits the floor, eyes wide with shock.

“You look well Anthony,” a mischievous smile curls your lips, “certainly better than the last time I saw you.”

“How do you…?” Sharon, standing to your right, looks like she may not want to know the answer.

You laugh, “Oh no darling, nothing like that. I simply got Anthony here out of a pinch in where was it Morocco?”

“Monaco,” Tony says, smiling a smile that makes you think of his father.

“Ah, yes Monaco,” Sam rounds the table and takes a seat to Tony’s left. “You couldn’t have been 17. Pissed off the wrong person and landed in a cell.”

“And somehow you got me out. Though I was more scared of you than the cops after that verbal lashing.”

“That sounds like my Aunt Y/N,” Sharon says smiling.

Tony’s brows raise trying to work that one out, “But you never told my dad.”

“What point was there to tell, Howard? He would have just thrown some overblown fit. He loved to hear himself talk, especially when he was angry.”

Tony laughs, “You’re not wrong.”

“Sounds like you knew Howard well,” a voice from the back left corner of the room says causing you to jump a little. Steve Rogers is leaning there, arms crossed, face dark, watching you.

You swallow hard, “I did. I knew them all… very well.”

He saunters to the table, “So I saw,” slamming down a thick file before he takes a seat. You hold his gaze for a second. The emotion passing between the two of you beyond words.

“Ooook,” Tony breaks the silence and you turn to him a tense smile on your lips. “I’m assuming you’re some kind of super soldier too.”

You take a seat next to Sharon, across from Tony. “I wouldn’t say soldier but I am… enhanced. Much like Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes. Only difference is I was never put on ice.”

“So you were born in…?” Sam is studying you with fascination.

“1920, I’m 94 years old,” he makes a whistling noise and you laugh.

The door opens and a slender brunette rushes in, “Sorry, had another fire to put out.” Agent Hill looks at you as you stand, “I’m-”

“Agent Hill,” you smile at her, “Nick spoke highly of you.” Your knowing gaze seems to convey that you’re all too aware that he’s fully alive. It would take a cataclysm to kill Nick Fury. Thank god for it.

“And you’re, Y/N Bernard,” her head shakes and an awkward smile curls her lips. “I never thought I’d have the honor.”

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”

She rounds the table and sits at the head opposite Steve, taking a deep breath. “Did you all start without me?”

“Nope,” Sharon slides a tablet to her.

“Good. We wanted to take a moment to brief you on the predicament we’re in, Ms. Bernard.”

“Y/N, please.”

“Y/N,” Hill smiles, “we think things are going to move quickly. The government wants to clean this mess up and do things under the radar as much as possible. That means we have to work fast to get our bearings and determine the best course of action.”

“Bearings regarding S.H.I.E.L.D. or Sargent Barnes?” You ask, tone even but suspect.

“Both,” Hill runs a hand over her face. “We’ve had Barnes for almost two weeks. So far they’re letting us hold him, mainly because no one else is equipped, but who knows how long that will last. Technically he’s considered a P.O.W. and Wilson is pulling any strings he can to sort that situation out. Get Barnes the care he deserves.”

You look to Sam, his eyes are on the wood of the table hands clasped in front of him. The Howlers would have liked this one. Out of habit you pull the necklace from your shirt and begin to fiddle with the contents.

“However, in the month since S.H.I.E.L.D. was exposed…” She clears her throat. You understand her pain, the thought that Hydra was so close… “Well, it’s become pretty apparent that there’s no rebuilding it.”

Sharon glances over to you. Slipping your hand into hers you give it a squeeze. Losing S.H.I.E.L.D. was like losing a part of yourselves.

“Stark has offered an alternative, kind of an official/unofficial organization,” Tony nods, “but that’s for another time. Right now we have to deal with the very real possibility of Barnes being put on trial.” Your blood runs cold, you release Sharon’s hand, worried you may accidentally break it.

“On trial for what exactly?” You spit.

Hill’s look is soft, sympathetic, “Anything they can pin on him.”

“That’s preposterous,” you try to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“We agree,” Hill nods. “That’s why we’re trying to make sure we have anything we can to prove that whatever actions he partook in when he was with them was against his will.”

Her jaw tenses, “Agent Carter has implied you may be able to help with that. There’s not a lot on file about you. You’re officially listed as retired, have been for over 40 years. I’ve heard stories of course but…”

“I’ll tell you anything you need to know. Put me on the stand if you must.”

“Aunt Y/N, that would-” Sharon’s eyes are filled with fear.

“Expose me? I know, mon chaton, I know,” your smile is tender. “It doesn’t matter. For him, I would do anything.”

Hill goes to speak but Steve cuts her off, his voice low, heavy with emotion, “Why?”

You drag your eyes to the brooding Captain, “Because, Captain Rogers, 69 years ago Bucky Barnes saved my life.” Your voice cracks despite your efforts, “And he’s here today because of that.” Sharon’s hand rests on your knee, trying to provide comfort. She doesn’t know that some hurts are too deep for comfort.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Hill’s voice is soft. “If it comes to that we will talk strategy. How about we break for now. I need,” she rubs the bridge of her nose, “something.”

Everyone stands to leave. You direct Sharon to look after Agent Hill and go to follow them all out when Steve grabs your arm.

“I think we need to talk,” his blue eyes are stormy.

“I agree,” you look into the conference room.

“No, follow me,” he walks to the elevators without once looking back.

It’s possible that it’s the most awkward elevator ride of your long life. When the doors open he walks to the end of the hall, a door opening to a steep flight of stairs.

“Will those be a problem,” he glances down to your breakneck stilettos.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You’d be surprised what I can do in heels, Captain Rogers.” He holds the door and you sprint up them, never teetering and not the least bit winded, smirking a bit at him as he comes up behind you.

Inwardly you thank god that he wanted to talk outside, you want a cigarette, desperately. Reaching into your bag you pull the pack and flick one up skillfully, pulling it out with red lips. He’s watching and you smile with the unlit cigarette between your lips.

“Want one?” You hold the pack out. He shrugs and takes one. You’re about to pull out your matches when he flicks up a zippo.

“Light?” You nod and he lights yours before his own. A smile plays on your lips as you try to think of the last time a man lit your cigarette.

He walks to the edge of the roof and sits on the low wall facing you. Taking a drag he finally speaks, “I never smoked before… this,” he gestures to his body. “So I never really knew what the appeal was but the motion is-”

“Soothing,” you finish sitting next to him. “I miss what nicotine used to do to me. Can’t tell you how often I have wished I could get drunk still. Never thought I’d miss a good hangover.”

He laughs a little, “Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, lost in your own thoughts.

“What did you mean?” Rogers is staring off into the distance.

“Sorry?” You’re unsure what he wants you to clarify.

“When you said he’s here because he saved you… what did you mean?”

Your heart squeezes. Memories of that place, the sound of the soldiers coming, the bunker shaking, the look on his face as he shoved you into that crawl space… So long ago but it may as well have been yesterday.

Taking a deep breath you dive in, “Hydra captured me in January 1945…”

The two of you burn through two more cigarettes each as tell him your story. You keep the part about promises of dances and that kiss to yourself. Though your hand lingers near your lips as you remember.

“I crawled through that tunnel for what must have been a mile,” you take a drag. “When I finally got out I ran for two days until I came across a British camp. They thought I was Hydra with the uniform and all. I kept telling them, ‘My name is Y/N Bernard, I am French Resistance Lyon. I have a message for Captain America.’ But they wouldn’t-”

“Wait,” he holds up a hand, “what was the message.”

Oh. You had told him Bucky said find Steve and the Howlers but the message… You hold Steve’s gaze, “I was to tell you that it wasn’t the end of the line.” Somehow you had maintained composure through the whole thing but now tears spill from your eyes.

Rogers looks away, sniffing hard, wiping at his own eyes. His elbows rest on his knees and he laughs a bit, shaking his head, “It really was him then.”

“Oui,” you sit straighter trying to get a hold of yourself. “Of course they didn’t believe me. Threw me in shackles and transported me to London.” Steve’s eyes burn into you but you can’t look at him.

“Once there they locked me in an interrogation room for hours until they found, Peg,” your voice almost breaks but you push through it. “Since… since I was a woman and it had to do with you they thought she was best. I told her everything. Begged, cried, pleaded her to bring me to you, I had a message we didn’t have time…” Your hands are trembling with emotion, “Finally I just told her the message, just to pass it along. Lock me in a cell, whatever she had to do just to tell you.”

Finally, you can look at him, “That’s when she told me you had died. But she believed me, apparently, you had shared that pledge you and Bucky had with her.”

He nods and you press on, “She took me to the Howlers immediately. Said we had a mission. At first, they didn’t believe some broad but Dugan,” you have to take a breath, “he said that if there was even a chance we had to take it.”

“Sounds like him,” Steve smiles sadly.

“It does, yes,” your hand toys with the tags, “We left the next day.” You shake your head, the lump in your throat growing, “We weren’t fast enough… I knew we wouldn’t be,” tears stream down your face now.

“I failed him. He saved me and I didn’t make it back in time,” a sob tears out before you can stop it. You hadn’t ever told this story not the full thing… it felt like a special kind of hell.

Steve lays a hand on your back. You look to him, “We didn’t stop looking though. Every base, every agent, we tried to find something, anything, that would lead us to him. But… we never found him…”

“You were a Howler,” his tone is filled with respect.

You nod, “I was. Proud to be too.” You squeeze his knee, “They never forgot you, either of you.”

Tears sparkle in Steve’s eyes, “Did you know… when I… when I woke up?”

Shame rolls over you but you don’t look away, “I knew the day they found you, Fury called me…”

“Then why… I mean I know we didn’t know each other but… I,” he wipes his eyes and stands to take a few paces. “It would have been good to have someone who knew… what… what it’s like to…”

“Be so out of place?” He nods. “I know,” you look at the ground, tears streaming, “I’m so sorry.” You hold in a sob and try to compose yourself before looking up at him.

“All I could think was that I failed you both, that all I could give you were empty apologies.” He opens his mouth but you hold up a hand, “I know that’s not right… and I’m sorry. It’s a shit excuse, but it is the truth. I’d like to make it up to you if I can.”

Steve shakes his head, “You don’t have to make anything up. I understand.” A smile fills his face, “I’m just happy we have another Howler back where she belongs.”

Something between a laugh and a sob breaks from you and he holds out a hand. When you take it Steve pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. The two of you hold one another and have a good cry for a bit.

“Come on,” he pulls back, “let’s head in.”

You follow him back inside and he leads you to a different section than where the conference room from earlier was. Two guards, heavily armed, eye you as you pass through sliding bulletproof doors.

He pauses in front of a nondescript door and turns to you thumb nervously tapping on the handle. “This is just the monitor room but… do you want to see him?”

Your fingers freeze on the dog tags you’d been fiddling with and stare at him suddenly unable to speak. The obvious answer was yes but… what if it was bad… what if he’s feral or catatonic or- It doesn’t matter.

“Yes,” the word finally crawls from your mouth. Steve smiles opening the door, holding it to allow you entry.

Sam’s already there and gives you a warm smile, “I’ll leave you two.” He gives Steve’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he walks out.

There’s a man wearing simple scrubs sitting on a cot with his back pressed to the wall, head leaned back, a knee pulled up with his metal left arm resting on it. Music is playing from speakers you can’t see, he softly sings along smiling gently.

Your jaw hangs open. This isn’t the ghost you were anticipating. This is Bucky.

“He’s had a good day,” Steve’s voice reaches you but you can’t look away.

Composure leaves you. Doubling over as if you’ve been hit you weep, a huge smile on your face. Pressing the dog tags and rings to your lips you eke out, “He’s ok, Dummy. He’s safe. It’s over, Dummy.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a minute then you feel his hand on your back, “It’s a lot I know. Here,” he gently lifts you and guides you to a desk chair passing you a box of tissues.

“Thank you,” you wipe at the mascara streaming down your face.

“I’m sorry but… did you say dummy a second ago?” He takes the seat next to you.

You smile, “I did.”

“As in, Dum Dum Dugan.”

Nodding you hold up the necklace, “My husband.”

“That has to be one of the first stories you regale me with,” Steve laughs.

“Deal,” your eyes wander back to one of the screens, fingers hovering over the image of Bucky. You can’t help but think of another cot in another cell. Snapping your eyes shut you remind yourself that this isn’t Hydra… well not anymore.

There’s a knock at the door, “Come in,” Steve replies. Sam and a woman you haven’t met enter. You stand wiping at your eyes a bit more, certain it’s all beyond saving anyway.

Steve introduces you, “Y/N, this is Dr. Laura Carr. She’s the psychologist taking point with Bucky, former S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Dr. Carr takes your hand, “It’s a pleasure.”

“Thank you for being willing to help him, Doctor,” you give her a warm smile.

“No thanks needed. It’s the right thing to do.” She laughs a little, “And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was more than a little fascinated by the case.”

You like her honesty, “I think that’s a good thing. Curiosity drives us to think outside set parameters,” Sharon comes in as you speak, “and I believe you’re going to need that in this case.” Dr. Carr nods.

Steve looks back at the screen then to you, “Dr. Carr,” he throws her a smile, “do you think Y/N, here could see Bucky today?” Your breath catches and you swear you can hardly feel your heartbeat.

The doctor eyes you, “Sharon told me you two have a history, though she was pretty vague with the details.”

“My apologies, doctor,” you smile softly at Sharon, “the life I’ve led has made vague the default. Being with S.H.I.E.L.D. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, “I do. It always made things more complicated when your patients couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell you everything.” She takes a moment and looks to Steve, “You’re his medical power of attorney, if you trust her I would say that today would be fine. Though I will want to monitor the exchange.”

“I trust her,” some tension slides from you at Steve’s words, “I’m ok with you watching. Y/N?”

“Of course,” you nod. “But… there’s something I need to get first.” Confusion settles on the faces around you, “Just a promise I made a long time ago that I’d like to keep. Could I use your car, Sharon?”

“I can drive you,” she walks to your side.

“Fantastic!” You smile up at Steve, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Bread?” Sharon eyes the large french loaf you’re cradling as you get back in the car.

“Oui.”

“Not what I was expecting but… ok.”

“What were you expecting, mon chaton?”

She laughs, “I don’t know. Whiskey, brandy, lingerie.”

You laugh fully, it feels good after the weight of the day thus far, “I don’t usually prefer an audience when lingerie is involved, kitten.”

“Please, stop there,” Sharon’s face scrunches in mock disgust.

As she parks the tone shifts, “Will you be ok, Aunt Y/N… seeing him?” She takes your hand giving it a squeeze, “It’s ok if you want to-”

“My sweet girl,” you squeeze back, “I have not been this ok in a long, long time.” Sharon smiles and nods.

Back in the monitor room everyone looks just as confused when you enter with the bread. Steve is already in the room the two talking casually about something.

“You can go in whenever you’re ready, Y/N,” Dr. Carr tells you. “I thought it best to have Steve go in as a sort of warm up. Keep in mind he’s suffering from severe memory loss, he may not know you so don’t be put off by that.”

“I’ve grown strangely used to my friends not knowing me,” sadness flits across Sharon’s features, “doesn’t make me any less happy to see them.” The doctor nods and Sharon leads you down the hall.

The door is heavy, reinforced steel. She enters a code and does a retina scan before the locks give way. You had expected this to lead to the room but there’s just a hall. You go through two more less enforced doors before stopping at one that looks normal.

“You ready?” She asks you. Your grip on the bread tightens a little. The perfect crackle of the crust hits your ears and you know.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, it’s all yours,” she steps behind you, “just let me get past the last door then knock.”

As the door behind you closes you raise your fist, take a deep breath, and rap on the door. The metal tings and you realize that the normalcy is a bit of a front. A moment later Steve opens the door a nervous smile on his lips. He eyes the bread but doesn’t say anything.

“Buck, there’s someone who wants to see you if that’s ok?”

“Sure?” His voice hits you like a freight train. Steve leads you into the room, “Don’t know who would want-” His words halt when he sees you.

You press down the hope that rises in your chest. He doesn’t know you, the chances are too slim. He’s surprised is all, a new person, one he can’t remember wants to see him and he doesn’t know why. You tell yourself you’ve seen this before in Peg, Dernier, and Juniper. This is the same. Don’t get excited.

“Hello, Sargent Barnes,” your voice is soft, heart thundering in your chest. He stands slowly, those eyes you remember so well, studying you. You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I know this may be confusing. And that you likely don’t know who I am… That’s ok. I just… wanted to see that you were well and… bring you this.” Tentatively you hold the bread out to him. He takes the wrapped loaf and opens it.

You swear a smile is playing on his lips, “Bread?”

“Oui. I-I know it seems silly-”

“Did you fly all the way from Lyon to bring it to me?” The breath leaves you. Hot tears stream down your face instantly.

He smiles, that bright true smile and sets the bread down on the edge of his cot, “I’m glad you’re ok, Y/N.”

“Bucky,” your voice is thick with emotion. Without thought you fling yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms encircle you holding you tight. When you feel a tremor pass through him you realize he’s crying too.

“I’m so sorry,” you say over and over again.

“Hush,” he whispers, pulling back he looks at you. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do though. I wasn’t fast enough I-”

“Stop,” his right-hand cups your face. The silence hangs for a moment while you try to find your bearings.

“I don’t know how or why, but you were always one of the first things I’d remember when my memories would come back. Before they…” His whole body shakes and you know exactly what he means. “You gave me hope. Reminded me that there was no surrender,” his lips twitch up into a crooked smile and your heart clenches.

“It’s not from Lyon,” you give him a grin. “But it is French, thought you had waited long enough for some decent bread.”

He laughs, “Well, it’ll do. For now.”

Oh yeah, there’s more to come.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #steve x reader #steve rogers

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aboysbestfriendishismum · 5 years

Text

Chapter 52 - Deer, dog tags and microwaves

In the previous chapter: Angie agrees to go out with Dave. Eddie keeps calling to talk to her and she has to spill the beans and tell Meg what happened in San Diego, she also tries to explain her point of view on the matter and why she's avoiding him. Grace and Meg planned to spend the evening together at Meg's place. Eventually Grace remains alone in the apartment for a few minutes and that's when Stone calls. Gossard is tender as always with her and she almost seems intimidated by his behaviour. Grace speaks to Eddie too and since she doesn't know about the kiss between Angie and him, she decides to shake things up a little and make him jealous by telling him about Angie going out with Dave that night. Eddie takes it really bad. Grace thinks her plan worked until she tells Meg and finds out where Angie and Eddie are really at. Once Angie comes back home the girls finally have her call Eddie and tell him the truth. Angie confronts Eddie and reveals Dave has just started dating Jennifer, L7's bassplayer, and she simply went to one of their concerts with him so he wouldn't go alone and feel awkward. Eddie apologizes to Angie and confesses what he feels for her in a way he never managed to do before. Angie's friends hear it all since they forced her to put him on speakerphone.

***

Strong fragrance used in perfumery. Four letters. Starts with an M. Magnolia! No, it's eight. Mango... Mandarine... Ugh what the fuck? I strangely managed to put my hands on the copy of the Seattle Times that sometimes we happen to buy before Angie, so she hasn't done the crossword yet. But now I guess I'll have to ask my friend for help because I don't know how to go on.

“So, what was I saying? Oh yeah, I turn up at the table, usual protocol greeting with smile incuded, I ask the woman what she's having and she asks, literal words, a cheeseburger without chees and some fries” the door of her bedroom is open, I cautiously look inside and see her on the phone. Of course I already know who she's talking to. Since that night when Grace and I managed to convince her to call poor Eddie, there have been lots more calls, every day. Unfortunately not on speakerphone. Fuck, when he was there spilling his heart all out to Angie, Grace and I melted in sighs and aaaaaws and Vedder almost caught us. Am I nosey? Yes. I meddle in other people's love life to avoid thinking of the disaster which is mine? Yes, I do. Am I also genuinely happy things are going great for my friend as she deserves though? I am!

“Wait. I'm just standing there, kind of confused for how she spoke, then I reply: great, I'll take you the Go-go meal with hamburger + fries + medium drink for $ 4,99. Well, basically she doesn't even let me finish talking and says: No, no, I don't want a hamburger. I want a cheeseburger with no cheese” Angie rocks left and right on the swivel chair as she listens her sweetheart's answer with a big smile on her face.

“Exactly! Hahaha same thing I told her: So... you mean... a hamburger, madam? NO! She says, very bitterly. I said I don't want any hamburger, I asked for a simple cheeseburger with no cheese! I swear she was yelling, I was so ashamed for me but for her too” Angie rotates a little more on her chair, sees me and nods at me.

“I didn't bat an eyelid and said: So you wanna pay one dollar more for a cheeseburger but you want it without the cheese?” Angie and I burst our laughing together as I enter her room, then she goes on “Yes, that's the point, 'cause the Cheeseburger menu costs more, that's the most absurd thing! If I take an order as cheeseburger, even if I tell the guys in the kitchen not to put cheese in it, it'll still be considered as a cheeseburger. Well, you know what, this bitch widens her eyes to me and goes like: Yes, exactly! Was it so difficult for you to understand? Ahahah yeah, I told you, she was a bitch!”

“The customer's always right!” I state as I sit on her bed.

“Hey, you and Meg said the same thing almost at the same time! Anyway, since the customer's always right and this woman had just basically told me I was an idiot, whereas she was the real idiot, I cheerfully replied: Not at all, madam. There goes a Marilyn meal with cheesburger with no cheese + fries + medium drink for €5,99 for you, ok? And the bitch: Yes, that's it, now you're talking. Thank you. Oh fuck you! Hehe... wait a second, ok?” Angie laughs with Eddie, then takes the phone off her ear slightly and addresses me “Did you need anything?”

“Strong fragrnce used in perfumerie, starts with an M, four letters” I ask her, showing the newspaper.

“Musk” she answers in a couple of seconds. Yes! That was it! Why didn't I think about it. I hate her.

“Yeah, it can be actually”

“It cannot be, it actually is!” she gloats then puts the receiver back against her ear “What? Did you know it too? He knew it too”

“Well thank you both but there's no need to brag!” I throw a pillow at Angie, who manages to dodge it, then takes it up from the floor.

“Sadly used in perfumerie I'd add... What do you mean why? Musk is extremely harmful, both the synthetic and the natural one... Well, in doubt, I'd rather not have to choose between either the total extinction of an animal species or pollution and maybe choose other kinds of perfumes, don't you think? What? What animal? What do you mean? You know where does musk come from, right?” a debate starts between Angie and Eddie and I can only hear one side of it, which I think it's the most consistent part anyway “Plant? What plant? Musk is not a plant! I mean, yeah, there's also some plant but that's not what's used to make perfumes. No! It's an animal secretion, from a deer, the musk deer. No, I'm not kidding, Eddie, I swear! There deer have a gland, like a small sack under their belly, that emits this substance and they spread it around to mark their territory, especially during mating season... Hahahaha no, Eddie, it's not deer's sperm!”

Not the typical conversation between lovers, right?

“Anyway now it's basically all synthetic” I remark once I write the correct word in the puzzle.

“That's even worse because it's extremely polluting and ends up in the food chain.” Angie answers both to me and Eddie “What? Hahaha no, don't buy me musk perfume, thank you. And don't buy me any presents in general... you already did too many... yes you did... yes you did... Eddie? Please... Come on...” now we're back to more couple stuff, Angie holds the pillow tighter and tighter and I think it's time to get out of here and go back to my room. Well, or to keep eavesdropping from outside without being seen.

“Wait, Meg! Yes, I'm gonna ask her now.” I stand up and am about to leave, walking backwards and waving bye, but Angie stops me “Will you go and see the guys tomorrow in Portland?”

“Yeah, that's the plan. Grace and Laura are coming too”

“Did you hear that? Meg, Grace and Laura, the perfect trio ready to cheer and throw bras at you”

“Haha I've got very little to throw!”

“No, Eddie, I told you, I can't... Roxy will kill me, it's even a Thursday, the night school nurses finish earlier... I can't take another day off”

I see our little Romeo is impatient. His dreams started to break when he found out Kelly had planned a series of radio promos and interviews right during the two days break between the two Oregon shows and that he'd have to wait before coming back to Settle. Eddie tried to avoid it by explaining that he doesn't really count in Stone and Jeff's band and that they could do the job but apparently it didn't work.

“Come on, I'll see you the day after tomorrow, no big change... Oh shut up, it doesn't change anything... Hahaha no!” I'm still here standing in the middle of Angie's room while she plays arond with that pillow and I'd really want to know what was that last no about but I know my friend will never tell me.

“Say hi to him, ok?” this time I leave for real, yet stopping in the hallway 'cause, as I said, I haven't learned how to mind my own business yet.

“Meg says hi! Anyway I was thinking of something. Hahaha no, not that! I was thinking, if the girl come to see you tomorrow... well, for someone it'll be like losing that famous bet once again... don't you think? Hehehe I have no idea, I don't know Portland, I don't know if there are any 70s discos in town, you should ask Stone. No no, ask him, I'm sure he'd be willing to set one up by himself so he could make fun of the losers! Haha yeah, that'd be a can't-miss event. Oh yeah? Why? Uh sure, my presence would definitely make the difference”

The lovebirds' phone call goes on for a little while, with Eddie probably telling her something sweet and Angie joking about it, maybe because of her natural embarrassment or because she knows exactly I'm right her listening to them. After she ends the call, she dispels my uncertainty.

“Meg!”

I keep my mouth shut.

“Meg? Come on, I know you're there!”

“Uhm? I was going to the bathroom” I magically show up back on the doorway, right in time to be the target of a weak pillow throw.

“Sure...”

“So?” I sit back on her bed, waiting for Angie to finally share something without me trying to forcefully extort information from her.

“Grace is coming with you tommorrow then?” Angie immediately kills all my hopes.

“Yeah, she is”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I called her in the morning and she told me she's in. Why?”

“I don't know, it's just... she doesn't really look like she can't wait to see Stone... does she? Am I wrong? I mean, it sounds strange but...”

“Wait a minute. Angela Pacifico... gossiping?!!”

“Hahaha fuck you, Meg!”

“Who are you? What did you do to my roommate?” I stand up straight, pointing at her with a trembling hand.

“I'm not gossiping, I'm just worrying about a couple of friends”

“Worrying huh?” I pull my arm down and snicker at her.

“Two dear friends I care about. And look cute together. And Grace seemed really into it at the beginning but now... meh... I mean, do you think there's something we don't know?” the new gossip queen is beating around the bush and I decide to play along. Also because one more conversation about Grace is one less about me and my non existent love life.

“Nah, I think it's normal. Grace had a crush and Stone played it cool. Now he doesn't act all cool anymore and she's confused, that's it”

“Stone looks pretty straight forward to me”

“Oh yeah, actually... He reminds me of someone else we know” this time I can't help picking on her but she rolls her eyes and goes on.

“He basically thinks they're a couple already, whereas she kind of shut him off” sure, a kind of behaviour you're really familiar with, right Angie? I don't say it loud this time.

“She will open up tomorrow, trust me”

“I don't want them to suffer, that's all” my friend shrugs and plays with the phone still in her hands. Are you saying this to yourself maybe?

“So... no musk perfume?” I aske her after a while and Angie starts rocking on her chair again.

“Haha no, please!”

“I have to remind Eddie to take one that's fruit scented” I wink at her while she puffs and takes a 360 degrees spin.

“Please...”

“Banana would be perfect”

“MEG!”

“What? What did I say?!”

****************************************************************************************************************************

Beer pong. Twenty six years old and I still play beer pong? Well, Kim's thirty and he organizes tournaments of these fucking games. It should console me. Twenty six, a steady relationship, a serious music project, a bank account that allows me to pay my bills without struggling at the end of the month... and I wake up at six in the morning in my bassplayer's bathtub. Fucking back pain! And why the fuck am I still in this shitty condo? I curse as I insist pressing the button to call for the elevator tht will never come. Then I give up to climb up four flights of stairs.

I drag my tired bones up to the door of my apartment but when I put my hand in my pocket looking for the keys the cold metal feeling is replace by total void. I can't fucking believe it. Did Matt have to find himself a girlfriend right now? I quickly feel up all the pockets in my jacket and in my pants, can't find shit and punch the door.

“Fuck” as throw the punch I clearly hear the clink sound of keys and I try and search better but I can't find anything. I punch the door once more and there's the sound again. I start jumping in place like a moron in front of the door and at every jump there's a jingle. I take off my jacket, shake it, same sound. I inspect each and every pocket more attentively and I find something: not the keys but a big hole in the left pocket. Mistery solved! Now I only have to use that little lucidity I've got left to determine the exact position of the keys inside the lining of my jacket and take them out. As I try to take them, I can hear another sound, not metallic but “human”, that catches my attention. A voice, like someone hummig very quietly without words. At first I think maybe it's someone singing while shaving or dressing up, after all it's morning for the rest of the world. But I can clearly hear this voice, although it's faint, and has a little echo that makes me thing the person's already left home. So why am I not seeing anyone passing? I walk through the hallway and I'm still feeling my jacket for the keys when I turn the corner and see him: Vedder, sitting on the floor, well on the mat just outside the girls' apartment, writing on a notebook, with a paperbag on his legs.

“Eddie?” I call him 'cause he doesn't seem to notice me.

“Oh, hey, hi Chris” Eddie stops writing and says hi, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What are you doing here? Aren't you on tour?”

“It's over! I mean, technically it ends on 3rd March but since the last three shows are here in Seattle we're basically done. I mean, we're done touring. Away” Eddie calmly explains, clicking his pen and putting it inside the notebook, then putting it all in the inside pocket of his jacket. As he does this, I can see his t-shirt: a white one with Air love bone written on it and the silhouette of a long haired basket player looking more like Jeff rather than Jordan. I've got one of those t-shirts too but mine is dark blue.

“Aren't you supposed to play in Oregon?”

“We were, we played in Portland last night. Small crowd but good atmosphere, great show” Eddie nods at himself and doesn't get up.

“Did you play yesterday? And when did you get back?”

“What time is it now? Uh half past seven. Well, a few hours ago”

“Hehe so you guys jumped on the van and dashed back home right after the show, right? You couldn't wait huh?” I guess he was especially looking forward to it. It's not like Eddie has ever told me anything about this stuff, I'm neither his confidant nor Jeff. But maybe I'm one of those, together with Ament and a few other people, who knows him a little better. Anyway it doesn't take a genius to figure out that if you're here outside a girl's door instead of at home in your bed to sleep the tour off, well, there's something big going on.

“Well, ehm, I don't know about this... I mean, don't know what the others did, I... I came back by myself” for a second Eddie loses his apparent composure.

“By yourself?”

“Yeah”

“How?”

“Hitchhiking” he replies raising his thumb.

“Hitchhiking?”

“Yes”

“You mean, you dropped everything and said I'm out of here, bye and hitchhiked to Seattle?”

“Village People inspired me”

“Uh?”

“Do you want to spend the night? Do you know the song?”

“Are you fucking high, Ed?”

At that point he explains it's about one of the infamous bets of Stone and Jeff and that part of our friends performed in the Melody Ballroom's parking lot. I know the place. I played that venue and I even saw Fugazi there. It's always made me smile thinking that they also do wedding and high school dances in that place. Well, congrats to the owner's versatility and open mindness.

“And at some point I thought: what the fuck am I doing here? And I asked some guys I already saw at some of our shows here if they could give me a ride” the reason he had this sudden realisation is right on the other side of that door, we both know, but none of us feels the need to point it out.

“And why did it take you so long?”

“Well, not that long...”

“How long have you been sitting on that fucking mat?” I ask when I finally find my fucking keys and try to fish them out.

“No, well, I've been here for an hour. Maybe two”

“And why?”

“Because it was too early”

“So fans dropped you here and then you noticed it was too early?”

“No, they didn't drop me here”

“And where?”

“At Pike Place” he answers like it's obvious and I'm stupid for asking.

“Pike Place” I nod and repeat, going along with him as you do with crazy people.

“I had to buy something” he adds grabbing the paper bag and putting it aside on the floor on his left side.

“But isn't it closed?” I ask skeptical.

“Bakeries open early”

“Ah” playing along, yeah, that's the best strategy.

“I had a coffee, something to eat, bought something for Angie, then came here”

“Hitchhiking?”

“Hahaha what? No, by street car!” once again he replies as if I'm the dork and maybe he's not entirely wrong.

“I came here and when I was about to ring the doorbell I realised it was like five o' clock in the morning”

“As another Village People's song says”

“Uhm, yeah... but what's that got to do with this?” he asks serious all of a sudden with a straight face and I basically burst out laughing at his face. With Eddie you never know if he's being serious or he's making fun of you and that's something I like in people. He surely must have understood I'm not exactly sane either, I think he learnt that the first time I took him out for a drink. Or when I showed up at the mini market and took him away after his shift ended, telling him I'd show him how local rockstars spend their friday nights. And we spent the night drinking beer and chasing my dogs, well Susan's dogs actually, in the woods.

“Hahaha nothing! So you parked your butt on that mat, right?”

“Yeah...” he answers, still confused “waiting for a more decent timing”

“Well, come on, half past seven seems acceptable” I walk up to him and try to ring the doorbell but Eddie stops me grabbing my wrist.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“I haven't heard any sounds, she hasn't waken up yet. I'll wait until she gets up” I back up and picture Eddie putting his ear against the door waiting for the sound of the microwave blip or the toilet flush and I laugh my ass off, internally. Don't wanna hurt the guy”

“What about your stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Your things, your bags”

“Oh I only had a backpack, it's on the van. Jeff will bring it to me, I think”

“You think?”

“Well, I think so”

“But... did you tell your bandmates you were going back home?”

“Mmm... wait... oh yes, I told Mike” oh well, in that case, you really got nothing to worry about.

“Was he sober when you told him?”

“It looked like...” while Eddie begins describing Mike's state during last night's aftershow, the door he was leaning his back against abruptly opens and he falls dead weight backwards. I figure out he's still alive when he finishes the sentence from Angie's apartment's floor “... he was... yes!”

“What the fu... Eddie? Chris?” the girl gives each one of us a confused look, as she ties the belt of her pink robe.

“Hi sweetie! I found this on your doormat. No name tag but he looks well fed” I joke while Eddie's still lying on the floor.

“Hi Angie!” he exclaims enthusiastically as he looks her up in all her... sugarcandyness? Does it exist? D'uh...

“Eddie! What are you doing on the floor, get up” Angie offers him her hand and he gladly accepts, he takes her hand and grabs the doorknob and gets up.

“I fell” haha yeah, it's pretty evident you fell for that chick, you jerk.

“Did you get hurt?” she asks perplexed.

“Nah”

“He didn't hit his head, that's just his natual self, trust me. Hey Eddie, be careful” I warn him pointing at the paper bag he's almost trampling on.

“Oh fuck, thanks Chris” he takes the bag and holds it like it was a newborn baby to cradle.

“What's that?” she asks, more and more puzzled, also because she must have just got up and as first activity of the day she has to deal with two assholes.

“Breakfast!” Vedder replies, all smug and pleased with himself.

“Oh... thank you... well, let's have breakfast” Angie points back to the inside of her apartment and I guess it's time to get out of here now, considering I also found my fucking keys.

“See ya then, ok?”

“Aren't you having breakfast with us?” she asks so innocently. Eddie's look is enough for me to find the right answer.

“No, thank you sweetie, I'm too tired. And just the idea of eating or drinking something right now makes my stomach cry”

“Mmh, ok, see you later then”

“Bye Chris!” Eddie disappears into her apartment.

“Good night guys... I mean, good morning... well, you got the idea”

“Night Chris”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“What the hell were you doing out here chatting? I heard noises and-” I close the door after I make sure Chris can walk straight enough to get to his apartment and as soon as I turn around I'm swept away by Eddie who engulfs me in a hug and corners me against the door.

“Sorry if we woke you up”

“N-no, but no! I... was already awake”

“I missed you”

“Oh, ehm, I missed you too” I reply and I really hope the mouthwash I used last night really has prolonged action as the label claims because Eddie's basically breathing against my lips, rubbing his nose against mine.

“So fuckin' much...” he's getting closer and I don't know where to look, if I should look, if I should close my eyes, kiss him, wait for him to kiss me, if I should just keep my mouth shut and enjoy the moment.

But I am keeping my mouth shut...

Well, you should shut up in your mind too, you idiot!

But not thinking... it's impossible. Even thinking about not thinking... it's a thought after all, isn't it?

But why are you coming up with this shit while Eddie's torturing you so sweetly? And your hands? Where the fuck did you put your hands?

Wait, I've got them... just... hanging, mid air, I'm basically hugging him with my elbows.

With your elbows? What the fuck, are you a mechanic? Not touching people with your hands dirty with grease?! You look like the young sheperd in nonna's presepe, the marvelled one, with his hands thrown up in the air.

I manage to interrupt the inner quarrel with myself for a moment and place my hands on Eddie's shoulders. He must perceive it as a green lights signal and kisses me.

Dave Gahan is nowhere to be seen or heard and the same goes for his bandmates, uncle Tome Jones doesn't show up, no Sonny, no Cher, nobody. For a minute there I almost feel like an adult, at least until I hear castanets clanking and Phil Spector literally throws the Crystals trio on stage unceremoniously.

He kissed me in a way that I've never been kissed before

He kissed me in a way that I wanna be kissed forever more

The concert doesn't end when Eddie pulls away for a second and looks at me in the eyes, as if he was searching for something. Maybe he's trying to understand if I'm on this planet or not and he already knows there'll be no point asking me directly. I don't know what kind of answer he finds but he must like it because he smiles, perfectly showing his fucking dimples... as if I needed other stimulation! And he kisses me again. This time it's small kisses slowly going from my lips to my cheek, then down towards the neck. One of his hands moves up along my hips, it may or may not, maybe I dreamt it, brush against my left boob. He tickles my arms even through a pretty thick layer of fleece, caresses my face and buries his hand into my hair, while his neck kisses turn into bites.

I gotta do something.

But I don't want to!

But you have to, can't you see you're panicking? Do you wanna wait until your head starts spinning, you see white dots and then you pass out like a loser?

It's so delightful though.

And what if he wants to do something more delightful?

I wish...

God, Angie, pull yourself together!

“What's in the bag?” I manage to snap out of it.

“Uhm?” he mumbles still nibbling on my neck and nape.

“In the bag you brought...”

“I told you... earlier... breakfast” he replies following the same trail as before but backwards, between kisses.

“That is?”

“Croissants” he reveals before planting a kiss on my nose.

“Custard cream?” I ask, suddenly very interested and for real, not just as an excuse to break this pleasurable moment.

“And chocolate” he nods deliciously, almost in a childish way “I took them very early this morning, for you, as soon as I arrived”

“By the way, when did you arrive?”

“Early” and he tells me about his hitchhiking and the different stops and everything that led him here to my place. And I'm still one with the door, crushed against it. And against Eddie, who doesn't show any intentions to let go of me. He did all that... for me? To see me a few hours earlier than we planned?

Well he must have problems if he hitchhikes with strangers at night only to see you with sleep in your eyes, still unshowered, your teeth unbrushed and your hair pinned up messily.

“Need to be warmed up then...”

“What?”

“Croissants, they must be cold now”

“Uh! Hehe well, yeah...” why is he blushing? But most of all, how many hands does he have? Theoretically he has one still in my half up half down hair and the other one on my left hip, but I feel his touch everywhere.

“Have breakfast now? I have to be in class in like one hour” I try and come back to my senses.

“Oh... do you really have to?” and do you really have to look at me like that?

“Huh... yeah, the monographic course about Renoir's waiting for me. And today the professor is gonna explain the passage from silent to sound movies, that is a very important part, which is gonna be in the exam too, so...”

“Ok” he lets go of me but takes me by the hand and leads me into the kitchen, where I spot the paper bag on the table. I was just wondering where he put it.

No, not true, you weren't wondering, you werent' thinking about the fucking bag at all.

Ok, can we just stop! Can we just shut up and stop quarrelling here? I'm trying to remain conscious and not to miss a second of this thing. And it's breakfast time now.

Eddie's hands are on my shoulders as I take the envelope out of the bag, I quickly open it and soon find out he bought like a ton of inviting croissants.

“Is this breakfast for the whole neighborhood?” I giggle.

“No, just for us” the grip on my shoulders gets tighter and a quick scorching kiss is planted on my cheek.

“I'm gonna warm four of them, ok?”

Eddie doesn't say anything, he just kisses me on the other cheek and I don't know if I'll make it to see La Chienne.

“Are you microwaving them?” he demands as I put the plate into the small oven.

“Yeah, but for a very short time or they... ehm, or they'll get too hard... like unedible rocks” just like me, stiffening all up like a board for kisses, caresses and hugs. Like this one, the tight hug from behind, with Eddie's curls tickling my neck.

“I trust you” he whispers into my ear.

I don't, I don't trust you at all, because you clearly want me dead.

When the croissants are ready I take the steamy plate our of the microwave and basically storm out of the kitchen and reach for the couch in the living room, placing our breakfast on the coffee table, thinking I'll be safe now. Safe from what? No idea. But it's just like jumping from the frying pan into the fire because Eddie walks up, leans on me and kisses me again, with resolution, before even touching the couch sitting beside me. His determination is put into practice as he literally throws himself on me and, as expected, I think I've just got into rigid corpse mode because Eddie pulls away almost immediately.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, why?”

“Are you sure? You look... strange” he goes on with his inquiring ocean blue eyes that I'm looking up to and that look even deeper from such a close priviledged position.

“No, it's just... well, it's late and-”

“Too much?”

“Well, not too late but...”

“No, I mean... me... what I'm doing... Too much? Too fast?”

“NO!” I basically yell at his face so loud that I almost mess his hair. A devilish grin appears on his face and at this point I'm sure he totally knows the effect he has on me “Ehm no, it's not that, it's just... I really have class and I can't...”

“You're perfectly right, I'm sorry.” Eddie gives me a tiny little kiss on the lips that leaves me wanting ten thousand more just now and sits back down “And croissants are getting cold, that'd be a pity” he adds with a dimpled smile as he takes one with custard cream.

What about me? No, I definitely don't run the croissants' risk.

#pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #eddie vedder fanfiction #eddie vedder #chris cornell #pearl jam #soundgarden #chapters

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1181

survey by painted-skylines

Best movie soundtrack ever: I’ve always vouched for The Twilight Saga’s soundtracks because their OSTs genuinely did pop the fuck off; but out of the five movies, my favorite would probably be New Moon’s.

What was your favorite Disney movie as a kid? It’s always been Toy Story, and it’s never changed even after watching my fair share of Disney movies through the years.

Have you seen it since? Many times. I try to do at least one rewatch every year.

If I looked through your phone right now, what would I find? A ridiculous amount of photos of V on my camera roll, my different work chats, and conversations between myself and Angela that would probably be tagged as NSFW because we’re comfortable around each other like that, lol.

Do you brush your teeth in the bathroom, or do you get bored & roam around? I just stay by the sink.

Reggae or Ska? Ska, if anything. I used to listen to ska punk.

What time did you wake up today? Like 6:15. I’ve started automatically waking up at 6 AM a week ago for no reason, regardless of how late I sleep the night before. Which is fine, I guess, since I’ve developed a knack of starting work by around 8 anyway; the 2-hour gap is the perfect time to have time for myself before another shift.

Why's the summer going by so fast? It’s not summer yet, but I will agree that time seems to be flying by in general. I’m well aware it’s because I do nothing but work all week, but I actually find the monotony quite relaxing for now so I’m not complaining.

What'll you be doing this 4th of July? That issssss a Sunday, so idk. Probably relaxing at home – or if quarantine protocols have loosened by then I will probably back in a coffee shop.

Are you allowed to wear shorts or tanktops at your school? We're not. In my university, yeah. I always wore tank tops then.

When's the last time you brushed your teeth? Around a half hour ago right after I showered.

Are you a picky-eater? Not at all. I will only be picky around fruits or viands I already dislike, like adobo or sinigang.

How many songs are there in your iTunes? I don’t have an iTunes anymore, and Spotify doesn’t work that way.

How many bands? -

Are you a candle-fanatic? I’m getting there, but I’ve had to park that interest in favor of my new BTS addiction HAHAHAHAHA. My online shopping cart went from Bath & Body Works candles to BTS albums stupidly fast.

How do you feel about incense? Not a fan.

I didn't spell that right, did I? You didn’t, but I corrected it because it was bothering me lol. Now anyone else who might take this survey will never know.

Do you know anyone that kind of looks like an animal? Aren’t we all animals though?

Are you ruthless? That wouldn’t be a word I’d use on myself.

What's your couch look like at home? It’s L-shaped and grey, and quite comfy.

When's the last time you were at a playground? 7 months ago when I went to an abandoned playground during one of my depressive episodes – it was to get some air out of the house after a million job rejections and a crumbling relationship. I don’t think I’ll be going to that playground any time soon.

Does your city/town have a little festival/carnival every year? We probably do but I just can’t care less for it.

Do you attend? Nope.

Have you ever been to an apple-orchard? I don’t know what that is.

Were there any cartoons your parents didn't let you watch as a kid? My mom was heavily critical of Mr. Bean (both versions) which I guess is kinda understandable, but we always watched it whenever she wasn’t home.

Do you need to clean your room? I think I need to go beyond cleaning and rearrange it altogether. It’s starting to look dreary to me, and I’ve been meaning to spruce it up with some floating shelves and a bigger work desk.

What's your favorite color? Pastel pink.

No one ever really changes. They just get better at hiding their flaws. True or false? No? People can change.

Have you ever been to New York City? No.

Do you still have a bicycle? Do you ever still ride it? We have a family-owned bicycle. I don’t know how to ride bikes though, so really only my parents use it.

Have you ever carved your name, or anything into a tree or a bench? I don’t think so. The few times I vandalized, the last thing I did was make it obvious I was the culprit.

What's your favorite ice-cream flavour? Cookies and cream, coffee, or chocolate chip cookie dough.

Have you ever had pecan divinity? Literally have never heard of that before.

Cotton candy or nachos? Nachos.

Is your MySpace page private? I don’t have one.

Do you drink milk? I drink it if I encounter milk, which happens rarely.

Would you rather see Death At A Funeral or Get Him To The Greek? Idk, neither sound interesting and I don’t even know what these are.

Have you ever had to clean a college kid's dorm room? Nah. I’ve never been inside a dorm room, actually. The most I’ve reached is the lobby of Laurice and Jo’s dorm building whenever I’d pick them up, since that’s the only place visitors were let in.

What's your favorite kind of candy-bar? Eh, I prefer a certain brand of peanut butter cups.

When's the last time you hugged a family member? Fuck if I know. Can Cooper be counted as family? I literally just took a break from this survey to cuddle him for a bit.

Or are you more of a ''don't touch me'' kind of person? It’s not that I’m not physically affectionate; I’m just not particularly so with my family.

Could you handle motherhood? At this point, no. I want other things first.

Well what about if your child's EXACTLY like you, could you handle that? They’d be a pain in the ass during their puberty years, but I think I would be able to handle the rest of me.

Have you ever been wakeboarding? Not yet. Angela and I have been planning it this year but there hasn’t been any opportunity yet.

What's the sky look like? It’s black and a little cloudy. No stars tonight.

Are you multi-tasking right now? Kinda, considering my focus levels hahaha. I’m trying to take this survey but I’m also listening to music, and so far I’ve stopped typing to dance in my seat 45793847375359 times.

How many pairs of flipflops do you own? None of my own, but we have a couple ones by the front door for anyone’s use, just in case anyone needs to go out to briefly take out the trash or whatever.

Are you any good at basketball? Not at all. I don’t even know the mechanices beyond making the ball go inside the hoop.

Are you any good at sports in general? I can play table tennis. I suppose I’m just a notch below playing competitively; I can do a decent rally and I’m usually able to smash properly when I feel like it.

Would you rather have a bulldog puppy or a husky puppy? Any kind of puppy is fine with me.

Do you have any stuffed animals? If you do, what are they? No.

Is any of this Go Green stuff really gonna make a significant difference? Of course.

Are you good at making up excuses or lies on the spot? If the need be, yes. But I try to avoid lying as much as possible.

Is Mr. Hudson attractive? Idk who you’re referring to.

The last time you snuck out, what were you going to do? I told my mom I’ll just be withdrawing from the bank when I was really meeting up with Angela so she could return my mom’s absolute favorite abaca mat that I secretly lent her for her grad shoot.

Were you into the whole Harry Potter thing when it was popular? Not really. I read the books after all the movies had already come out, but I didn’t finish the whole set.

Do you think Rupert Grint's cute? Not personally.

Have you ever rode a horse? Yeah.

What's something cute to wear with leggings? For me, I’d pair it with an oversized shirt.

Tye-dye or floral? Floral. I never was a fan of tie-dye.

What's the weirdest thing you've ever ate? A couple of weeks ago my mom said she was gonna make cordon bleu, but the final result was anything but hahaha. I still have no idea what it is she made, but at least it was edible.

What's your desktop wallpaper? It’s just a photo of some mountains that already comes as one of the provided backgrounds on my laptop.

What's your wallpaper on your cell? Lock screen is of Kim Taehyung, home screen is a BTS group photo.

17th contact; Jeuel, a guy I went to college with.

Do you know anyone in the military? I don’t think so.

Are you ashamed to admit that you like Ke$ha? ...Is there a reason I should be?

Is there anything you wanna say to someone right now? Not really.

Pancakes, or waffles? (: Waffles.

#survey #surveys

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dralentines-day · 7 years

Text

Gift #35, @drvcopotter

Mr. Draco Potter himself approves of this gift... @drvcopotter

Our gifter says:

"Happy Dralentine's Day!! Hope you enjoy it <3″

Untitled - 'Enough, that's- that's enough... Draco!'

'I'm sober!' Draco lauched himself forward, blindly trying to snatch the Firewhiskey bottle from Harry's hands. 1k.

Tags: It's sfw, with kissing and fluff, drunk drarry, auror drarry partners, mentions of domestic drarry (they share a flat). Ron makes a quick appearance at the beginning.

'Enough, that's- that's enough... Draco!'

'I'm sober!' Draco lauched himself forward, blindly trying to snatch the Firewhiskey bottle from Harry's hands.

The crowded pub made it easier for Harry to just get up from their table and pull Draco with him without getting much attention from their coworkers, most of them already as drunk as Malfoy. The blond fidgeted in his arms, mumbling something Harry couldn't understand or barely hear.

'We're going home' the unintelligible words shushing Draco immediately. He'd learnt parseltongue was useful for those times Draco wouldn't listen to him. Harry hooked one of Malfoy's arms around his shoulder, doing his best not to bump into too many people on his way to the door.

'Harry!'

Fuck. He turned around with some difficulty, Malfoy breathing on his neck while trying to balance his weigh on his legs without bringing both of them down.

Ron walked towards him, his expression quickly changing into one of concern as soon as he recognized the blond head.

'Where are you going?' Ron squinted his eyes suspiciously, darting them from Harry to Malfoy, who hiccuped and giggled, the sound muffled by Harry's hair where his face was now buried. Ron didn't even bother to hide his disconfort, his cheeks a dark shade of red Harry knew couldn't be blamed only on Firewhiskey.

'Home' Harry rolled his eyes, giving Ron a small smile to try and ease the tension a bit.

'Why? You're not his mother! Just leave him here, I'm sure he can-' Ron gesticulated towards an almost unconscious Draco like he was trash Harry was taking outside.

'And then what? I'll have to open the door for him later anyway.'

Ron sighed, searching for help and noticing no one cared if they were leaving or not.

'It's friday and you've just finished a fucked up case. You don't deserve this, Harry'

It's not that bad, Harry thought, the words now common in his vocabulary when talking to Ron, Hermione, or any of his friends. Being paired with Malfoy after their Auror training two years ago may have angered him a bit - quite a lot, actually - and finding out they'd have to share a flat, which was protocol for new partners in order to 'strengthen the bond' didn't sound like the best of options, but after all, it really wasn't that bad. Malfoy was organized and surprisingly quiet. He could be nosy, childish and bossy but most of the time, it was manageable.

A drunk Malfoy, however was another story. Needy, cuddly, demanding. It shocked Harry the first time the blond got himself pissed on a Friday night and let his head fall on Harry's shoulder in the middle of the bar.

'Let's go home, Harry' he giggled in his ear, Harry's own name resonating in his head.

After that he'd tried his best not to let Malfoy drink too much.

Malfoy hiccuped again and Ron let out an exasperated sigh.

'It's fine. See you Monday, yeah?' Harry turned around before Ron could say anything, his own mind a bit dizzy from the alcohol and the noise.

***

'Harry'

The cold breeze hit them square in the face the moment Harry opened the door. He let it close behind him, the noise gone the second it clicked shut. Malfoy shivered against him, curling himself on Harry’s side. The sooner they reached their flat the better. The safer, Harry thought.

'Harry' Draco breathed in his ear. Fuck, Harry hated how Malfoy always said his name, how could Harry mean something completely different than Potter coming from the same person?

'Yeah?' Harry stopped, his mind still too slow for him to remember where was the nearest apparition point.

'I'm hungry' Draco nuzzled his nose against Harry's dark locks, inhaling like that was the most natural thing to do.

'What? No, we're going home, Draco' He said firmly, deciding for a random direction.

'Please, I'm really hungry...' Harry let out an exasperated groan, the weigh and the cold doing nothing to improve his mood. He took a look around, spotting a small convenience store not far from them on the other side of the street. They had no food at home, he was tired and, if Draco was indeed that hungry, he woudn't be too picky about it.

They crossed the street, Harry sitting Draco on the closest bench outside the store as soon as they reached it.

'Stay here. I mean it, Draco, stay'

''m not a dog, Potter'

Potter. Good, he was not that drunk.

Harry turned around, rolling his eyes, and opened the glass door.

Water, some noodles. An aspirin since Draco forgot to brew hangover potion. Hmm, chocolate, since Draco would be in an awful mood tomorrow-

Harry stopped shortly. Merlin, they sounded so... domestic. Harry shivered, avoiding the cashier's eyes since he knew his cheeks were probably bright pink.

He headed for the door noticing through the glass that Draco wasn't where he'd left him.

'Fuck' He stormed out of the store, his wand already firmly secured in his hand.

'Draco?'

'Hmm?' Harry jumped, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Malfoy was stading not far from him, his hand placed on a huge cabin right by the door.

'A photobooth cabin?’ Harry's voice startled the blond, who darted his eyes towards him.

'Photo what?'

Harry remebered the first time Dudley got home with one of those stripes, his ugly face splashed in tiny squares all over it. When he'd asked aunt Petunia if he could take one too the woman told him those things were for people with friends. And Harry had none.

'You take photos in these' He stared at the ground, the grip on the plastic bags tighter than necessary.

'Let's go'

'I wanna try it'

'What?' Harry stopped, not believing what his ears were telling him.

'Come on, Potter, it can't be that bad' Draco took a step forward, lifting the black curtains and peering inside, curiously.

'You're aware this is a muggle thing, right?' Harry said, taking a step forward. He had no idea why a muggle photobooth cabin was standing outside of a convenience store on a wizard neighborhood. He checked the money entry, noticing it was modified to accept wizard money. An image of Mr. Weasley appeared in his mind instantly. Right, there were wizards who collected stuff like that.

Harry dropped two knuts inside the machine, Draco already getting inside.

It was small, smaller than he'd expected, with only one old black stool. Harry sat awkwardly at the edge, almost falling while doing his best to avoid touching Draco more than needed. The blond seemed too distracted with a big black screen in front of him to notice or even worry himself about it, letting his knee touch Harry's carelessly. Harry pressed the only button under the screen, the countdown starting in front of them.

'What's happening?' Draco reached for his wand but Harry stopped him before he could take it out of his pocket.

'Look there, and...'

The first picture was taken, Harry only having a few seconds to pull a funny face. He couldn't help laughing when he realized Draco was just frowning at the camera.

'Are you stupid, Potter?' He turned to stare at Harry, reminding him of how close they were.

'Why?' Harry gulped, looking everywhere but at him.

'That's your idea of a funny face?' A crooked smile formed in Draco's lips, paired with something wicked in his eyes. Before Harry could stop him, Malfoy reached out and grabbed his glasses, putting them on his own face.

Another picture was taken while Draco tried to impersonate him. Harry couldn't help bursting out laughing, Malfoy so unrecognizable wearing his glasses the whole thing seemed too absurd to be taken seriously.

Tears still streaming down his face, Harry opened his eyes to find a small smile on Draco’s lips. The black old frames constrasting with his bright grey eyes and blond hair looked almost... innocent. Harry shouldn’t be thinking that, he shouln’t even be there in that small cabin with him, but the second the blond burst out laughing too, the sound covering Harry’s loud heartbeat, he forgot why Draco Malfoy couldn’t be something else for him.

Another picture was taken before Harry pulled the man towards him and kissed him on the lips.

It took Draco a few seconds to kiss back, his eyes falling shut and lips opening to allow Harry to deepen it. It was, in some way, like a first kiss, the wamth radiating from Draco’s mouth reaching the bottom of Harry’s belly, warming every inch of his body.

They parted, eyes still closed.

‘Harry’ Draco whispered, his tone low and needy.

Harry gulped again, licking his lips which were still millimiters from the other’s. ‘Let’s go back to mine’

‘Did you forget we live together?’

‘I’m trying to flirt here, you git’

Harry chuckled, holding Draco’s face between his hands and kissing him again, softer this time.

‘Let’s go home, Draco’

Want to see more? Check the “dralentine’s day” tag or head over to dralentines-day.tumblr.com!

Happy Dralentine’s Day!

#drarry #dralentine's day #drarry squad #dralentine's gifts #dralentine's day gifts

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