#he calls me 'one take becca' because it takes him longer to set up than it takes me to get my pieces recorded

[writing-in-april]

Spooks

Raymond Wadsworth X Female Reader

Summary: Raymond starts sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong at the next haunting he’s investigating.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my second fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April 2021!!! I had this spur of the moment idea in the middle of the night and ended up writing a pretty long fic for it (at least long for me lol) I had a lot of fun writing it and really liked the idea- I hope you all enjoy it too! Drop something in my ask box here if you’d like!! I’m always looking for feedback and my requests are open as well! Thanks for reading!!!

Warnings: 18+, Ghosts & poltergeists, Smut, Sub Raymond, Unprotected sex, Sex in a car, Slight cum play

Main Masterlist Word count: 3.2k

Your job description wasn’t an easy one to describe, you could say Mulder and Scully would be the most accurate equivalent. Though as with all tv shows it was portrayed with a set of rose tinted glasses, giving a filter to any realities you faced on the job.

You and your department preferred to call yourselves spooks, truthfully only because the pun was funny. In reality your 8 person department were called agents just like the rest of the FBI, you guys were just more secretive than the others.

Most of the time you ended up getting handed the short straw when getting new cases as you were still the newest on the team, despite being there for several years already. Unlike most professionals in law enforcement you did not have a partner, it only slowed you down. Every place that you were scheduled to decontaminate was an in and out procedure streamlined for effectiveness, adding another body to be hyper vigilant about was a hassle. You operated alone.

Any type of paranormal phenomena that you could think of was thrown in front of you. In your opinion the cases you had the most fun on were the ones that dealt with aliens, though some ghosts could be fun on occasion. The most recent case I had to deal with was a nasty poltergeist, the worst type of ghost. They always wreaked the most havoc on whatever house or place they occupied.

The family in this house had moved out a while ago, the request to decontaminate the home had been sitting on one of your supervisors for a while. It was an old house, built around the late 1800s. Old enough that it had a bunch of unnecessary rooms, like the parlor room that you found yourself trapped in.

And, you weren’t on your own either. Trapped with you was a man with fluffy brown hair flying in any direction, his eyes a darker shade of brown that were filled with fear- yet also curiosity. He was wearing a blue romper, it looked good on him, from what you had seen while you were frantic. But, you highly doubted that it would be effective clothes for a paranormal investigation, maybe he had just stumbled across this place out of curiosity. Either that or he was the type of an inexperienced investigator who had probably had one encounter with a ghost. It did not change that he was cute though.

“I’m a paranormal investigator- uhh technically a supernatural detective! My name’s Raymond! Who are you?!” He sputtered out, ranting probably to try to push aside his fear. You were standing side by side holding the double doors of the entrance to the parlor room, pushing them down to prevent the poltergeist from ramming it down and attacking us.

“Not important!” You snapped back at him, throwing a glare at him. Even if it wasn’t such a tense situation, you weren’t supposed to give away your identity or your job description to just anyone.

With another gasping breath he asked another question, even though you hadn’t answered his first inquiry, “I came with a girl, her name’s Becca- did you see her?”

This one you would bother to answer as he was quite obviously worried about the well being of his companion, “I may have seen her speed away in a red car after she was thrown out of the house. Was that your car she took?”

Not that you really cared all that much, but if he had been stripped of his transportation by his partner you’d have to take him in your own car. Not that you really wanted to, you still would have to help him even though he was seriously hindering your decontamination. “No, I came in my own car.” He answered which made you breathe a sigh of relief, you wouldn’t have to deal with another issue after you escaped, “I don’t blame her honestly, if I could leave I would.”

You were about to answer when your pressure on the doors wasn’t enough, making you both stumble forward. When you stumbled forward your keys, along with your badge, fell out of your pocket. Your badge flipped open front and center to reveal your name, plus the exact agency you worked for in a bold logo.

“You’re an FBI agent?!” You could not confirm or deny what he had asked, you were firmly focused on scrambling to get your things and avoid the ghost that was now throwing furniture at the two of you.

When Raymond finally took notice of the being that was pelting heavy objects around you, a ghostly shape in the form of a woman with a tortured look on her face, he screamed bloody murder. It was not unlike that of a scooby doo cartoon, him obviously resembling Shaggy almost perfectly. If only he had a dog to jump into his arms before he comically zoomed away while remarking “zoinks!”

His frazzled response to the ghosts giving a rather mediocre jump scare made you wonder whether he had the credentials to back up his job title as a paranormal investigator- or as he called it a supernatural detective. You racked your brain to try and recall anytime you had seen a Raymond or a Becca on the long lists of people that were being monitored for potential involvement, coming up with nothing. Well, maybe they were new, as his reaction seemed to indicate.

Your own reaction was stoic as usual, your nerves no longer jumped and your heart no longer quickened to the visage of a ghost trying to spook you. It was in no doubt for some arcane reason probably linked to revenge towards people that no longer existed. One would normally say don’t assume anything about people, that it might offend them to assume, but dead people in your view also had dead opinions- plus relying on precedent was usually a good option when a ghost might be trying to kill you. Despite the absence of fear from you there would be no call out of “Let’s split up gang!” either. It was you mostly not wanting to explain to your employer how you lost a citizen in the middle of this place and- besides that you couldn’t deny that you didn’t want him to die no matter how much undeniable extra trouble he was causing.

“Let’s go.” Your voice was firm, no discernible room for argument or questions.

Raymond somehow found a way to wriggle in to asking yet another question, “Where are we going?”

You yanked his hand out of the room that you think might’ve been a parlor room back in it’s day. You shouldn’t have bothered to answer as it would breed more questions from him, you already gave away too much about who you are and what you do. Any extra questions you answer from him was just creating a bigger breach in your security. Yet you found yourself justifying an answer, his eyes that were probably pulled into an adorable curious look laced with fear bored into the back of your skull as you dragged him out of the room and to the nearest exit. It was only a harmless question, it didn’t even have a satisfying answer, “Anywhere but here!”

Weaving my way through the house that was better characterized as a maze was hard to navigate through. At every turn some sort of iteration of the poltergeist tried to capture us, to pull us into death with it.

The two of us did eventually find the front door, only to find that we could not pull it open, the handle was stuck.

“Step back!” You shouted at Raymond to get him to move out of the way while you prepared to kick the door down. He skittered over to be right behind you, looking over his shoulder in paranoia. You used your right foot to kick the door, using all the leg strength you could muster. After three kicks, the door burst open, letting you both free.

Scurrying quickly to your government given work vehicle, looking back for a second to make sure that Raymond was following you. You couldn’t let a civilian die here, no matter how much of a nuisance he was, and he was cute of course.

Pulling out the last resort from the trunk of your car, gasoline, you then shoved a container of it to your unexpected companion.

“Cover as much of the house as you can!” He made no argument with your plan, running right behind you back up to the house to cover it all in gasoline. Once you had both covered it as much as possible you made sure Raymond was standing back before you lit your lighter and chucked it into the wood wet with the accelerant.

As soon as you could confirm with your eyes that the house had sparked with fire, you grabbed Raymond’s arm again to drag him to your car, not even caring about the one he had come here in. You basically threw yourself into the driver's seat, starting to drive away immediately after Raymond had sat down, before he had even shut the side door.

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, causing your heart to pound hard enough that it felt like it could burst out of your chest. It was not unusual in your field of work, to feel death brush right by you.

“My car?!” Raymond screamed, his body turned so he was looking out of your back window.

“Sorry no time to go back! The U.S government will reimburse you for that- maybe…” You said quickly, while trying to step harder down on the gas pedal to speed away.

The house behind you was burning so bright from you could hear the crackling from the house turning to ash. You imagined that the flames and smoke were big enough to be seen for miles, considering how much accelerant you poured on it. So much for being subtle, your boss was definitely going to chew you out for that.

When you had gained a sufficient enough distance away from the flames you pulled off into a parking lot adjacent to a park. Pulling into the parking space fast you then hit the brakes hard, jostling you two a bit.

Taking a deep breath you slumped forward to rest your head on your steering wheel, just for a moment of relaxation.

“You know burning it down won’t necessarily get rid of it.” You only grunted in response to his matter of fact statement. Your lack of response seemed to make him even more anxious, tapping his fingers on any surface that was around him to preoccupy his mind while you took your breather. He tried to fill the silence that was making him uncomfortable, “So what do you actually do?”

You sighed deeply against the steering wheel one last time, then leaning off of it to sit back in the seat. You decided that you might as well give him a small morsel of information that may satiate his curiosity, “That’s highly classified, but you could probably figure it out.”

His insistence to bring up what your job is was making your insides twist with anxiety. You were already dreading what would happen when you got back to the office. It would be a lot of paperwork to explain everything that happened, plus you’d have to submit an application on behalf of Raymond to get his car reimbursed.

The adrenaline that had spiked in your veins born out of fear was still present. It was overwhelming, and you felt the need to use it for something different than wallowing in your fear.

You redirected your gaze to fixate on Raymond, who could surely help you redirect your adrenaline. He was an attractive man, who’s personality did help make him even more desirable. Even though he was a pain in your ass, he was a cute and funny one.

His own eyes were fixated on yours as well, with a different look than what you had seen earlier. His eyes were deepened with lust, not fear, though there was still an ounce of curiosity in them- probably still wondering who exactly I was.

Grabbing the hairs at the back of his neck you then pulled him forward to crush your lips onto his. He reciprocated immediately, though did not try to challenge your dominance over the kiss. He let you slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring him with diligence.

You wanted him closer to you, feeling every inch of him. So you swung your legs over his lap as best you could with the space you had to straddle him. When you did so you barely let his lips come off your own, too greedy to let them separate from yours.

A thought however was nagging you in the back of your head as you continued to melt yourself into the kiss, he had mentioned a companion that he had been worried about earlier. You did not want to step on any toes, nor endorse any type of cheating. You separated your lips from his own, even though you wanted nothing more than to envelop him in another kiss.

“This ok with you?” Your words were said right into his lips, mingling your breath with his, “You’re not with that Becca girl are you?”

“Not anymore- and yes I’m totally ok with this.” He confirmed before surging up to meet his lips with your own again. You wasted no time in starting to grind your hips onto his cock that was swiftly growing underneath his shorts. Just from grinding you could feel how large he was, even through a couple of layers.

He moved his hands to the button of your pants when you moved your lips to start nipping and sucking on his neck and jaw. You tried to kick off the articles of clothing on your lower half, panties included, without removing your lips from him. Unfortunately you had to do so because of the amount of space. You cursed under your breath, wishing that the government had paid to give you a larger vehicle.

You were already slick with arousal, also aided by sticking your fingers into his mouth to get them sufficiently wet. He bobbed his head up and down on them eagerly until you were satisfied. Removing them from his mouth you ran them up and down along your slit, getting you even more wet.

You guided his length to your entrance, not sinking down immediately. You undulated your hips so his length was coated with your arousal as well. When he bucked his hips in impatience you just pushed them down back into the seat. Then you leaned down to whisper into the shell of his ear to be patient- he’d get what he wanted.

“Fuck me.” Was all Raymond could muster up to whimper when you sunk down onto his cock, his head falling back to hit the headrest. You wasted no time in starting a fast pace, bouncing up and down on him with vigor. Raymond grabbed onto your hips when he couldn’t find anything else to hold onto, digging his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

His large cock bumped up against your cervix in the most pleasurable way possible as you swivel your hips over him. Your own head tilted back, your mouth opened wide to let out a loud moan when his cock hit a particularly pleasurable spot inside you. You also felt the need to hold onto something as your release began to build inside you, getting ready to snap. So you grabbed onto the best thing you could find, running your hands through his hair and pulling on his strands.

One of his hands then moved to toy with your clit,his movements were a bit fumbled, but it swiftly made your orgasm start to crest. You were almost disappointed about how quickly this was going to be over, you however couldn’t deny that it felt amazing even with the frantic pace. In the back of your mind you couldn’t help but imagine all the other things you could do to Raymond if you were given the chance.

You fell apart above him, your eyes rolling back into your head. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, and it felt good to have it redirected to a pleasurable experience instead of fear. You kept yourself impaled on his cock for a bit after your orgasm had finished, relishing at the feeling of him inside you.

Slipping out of him was a little bit awkward because of how cramped the space was. Once his cock slipped out of you, both of you groaning at the loss of him inside of you, you wrapped your hand around his length. You started to pump him slowly in your hands, taking your time compared to earlier. Your adrenaline had abated a bit and now you wanted to see how long you could drag this out, in case you never got the chance to again.

However, It still didn’t take much movement from your hands for him to get close, he was already close to the edge from being inside you. His hips bucked up into your hands a bit before he begged, “C-can you put- your hands- around my throat?”

“Should’ve known you’d be into that.” You snarked back a bit in response to his plea. Your tone had no sympathy for him, making him obviously think that you weren’t going to oblige him by the look in his eyes. That look of pure desperation in his eyes, with his kiss swollen lips, and his curls disheveled made you buckle. He groaned loudly when you put your free hand around his neck. You only applied a small amount of pressure, but that was all Raymond needed for him to cum all over your hand.

Once you had helped him ride out his own orgasm you removed your hand from his neck and his cock. You did need to clean up the hand that was covered in his thick ropes of cum, so you brought it up to your mouth to lick it clean.

“Fuck me…” Echoing his previous words, this time with an even bigger whimper. After you had cleaned yourself and him up enough to be decent you flung yourself back to sit in the driver’s seat again.

Raymond was silent for a minute, which seemed odd if you were going off of what little experience you had with him so far. Though maybe he was still going through his post orgasm relaxation just as you were. He then broke the silence, by asking the same question again, even though you had wanted to answer it just about 30 minutes ago. You’d bet money on the reason that he kept asking, being that each time that you answered you gave him a small hint, “Will you tell me now what you actually do?”

“Maybe- if you get to know me better.” You turned the key to start the engine again then asking with another hint as to what your job was, “Consider this your lucky day, you’ve got a spook as your chauffeur. Now, where next Raymond?”

—-

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#raymond wadsworth x reader #raymond wadsworth #matthew gray gubler x reader #suburban gothic fanfic #matthew gray gubler #suburban gothic #raymond wadsworth smut #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #mgg x reader #30 fics in 30 days

[operation-619]

What if the reader is an alien that has the same power as superman and stronger than Homelander? The reader works at the Vought and doesn't know the corruption in it until Butcher told the truth. Homelander acts soft on her when they see each other, and Homelander was still confused about his feelings and put his ego shit first. I kinda wanna see Homelander battling the reader when she was trying to protect Ryan and Butcher while Maeve hasn’t arrived yet. She will make him bleed.

Even the strongest man Bleeds.

Edited 17-01-21

Homelander x Alien! Reader

Warning: mentions of blood, language, mentions of death and murder. Violence read at your own risk. 

Bold italics- inner dialogue, Bold- the past. 

WC - 3.1k

Masterlist

“The compound V is what makes them, supes. It’s not real and the golden boy, your Homelander, is the most corrupt motherfucker I have ever met. We need your help (Y/N). Please?” his voice was hoarse, the stress in his words were leaking onto his face. She could see the worry on his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe the men in front of her.

“You’re lying to me. Billy Butcher, you have a lot of nerve coming here, you and your gang are mortal enemies to Homelander right now. It’s not safe.” The muscular black man scoffed at her statement and leaned back against the seat. He seemed relaxed but his eyes constantly sweeping the place told (Y/N) otherwise.

“I swear, come back with me and I will show you everything. Please?” his eyes crinkled at the sides as he pulled his face into what looked like a poor attempt at a pleading face. (Y/N)’s mouth was just forming the word ‘NO’ when the man called Mother’s Milk chuckled and leaned forward.

He whispered, “he doesn’t ever say please,” and stood up from the booth and walked out of the café. Her mind was racing, weighing the pros and cons of her current situation. She considered whether or not they were just baiting her into a trap, but she was confident that she could make her way out of it. But it isn’t everyday that two men come waltzing into her favourite café, sit themselves down like they own the place and cough up a semi-convincing story about the corruption at Vought.

“Fuck it,” she whispered under her breathe, “fine I’ll come, it’s good to go out your comfort zone once in a while.” The smile on her face made Billy look at her with confusion painted on his rugged features. She stood, and gestured Butcher to show her the way, “just so you know, I don’t believe you at all.”

(Y/N) replayed her past movement in her head carefully over and over again, and yet she still could not believe how naïve she truly was. But here she is sat in a car that smells like Old Spice, waiting for Frenchie to get the speakers ready. She threw her head back against the headrest and released a shaky breath; everything she believed and knew had been a lie to her. Including John. ‘Oh dear god John, what have you done?’ Her thoughts were getting too loud, they were screaming at her asking how she could’ve been so stupid to not know.

‘How could you not know?’

‘It was right in front of your face you idiot’

‘Your really are a cunt!’

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples, the stress of all the sudden information was taking a toll on the woman. Whimpering under her breath, she opened the car door and inhaled the cold air. Closing the car door, she leaned against it and watched as the group of friends conversed amongst themselves. The plan was to set off the sonic device and John to go over and destroy the source, and when he does Billy and Becca will drive and get Ryan. She still didn’t know why she was needed, (Y/N) was still processing the information she was given 48 hours ago.

“Okay, 15 minutes and everything will be all set,” the French accent let her know who was talking, but she wasn’t paying that much attention when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck arise.

“Get in the cars!” she whispered harshly, her arms waving about ushering the people back into the cars. (Y/N)’s breath shallowed once everyone was in their respected cars, she creeped forward and looked upwards, watching as the uncovered Nazi zoomed by. She vividly remembered the moment she had met that woman. (Y/N) never trusted that woman, something about the way her heart leaped when an opportunity to hurt someone arose. (Y/N) also didn’t like the way John was towards her, all bark, and no bite- vulnerable.

(Y/N) had never seen John so vulnerable around anyone except her.

The metallic taste in the air is what told (Y/N) that Stormfront had just flown by, the hair on the back of her neck relaxed and so did her posture. Walking over to Butcher, she waited until he rolled down his window before she spoke; “She’s seen the leaked news, my guess is she is going back to Vaught to see what caused that, fiasco.” She heard another window come down, not doubt Frenchie and the others.

“Was she alone?” without turning around she nodded. (Y/N)’s tongue ran across the bottom of her teeth before she turned around and faced the two cars, the cars holding the people that brought the truth to her naïve and simplistic eyes. “What exactly am I doing here? Because, you have the weapons, metaphorical and physical to defeat them. So please, tell me why I am here?” her eye followed the movements of the human bodies getting out of the cars. She could see the look on Becca’s face, and she didn’t like it.

“We’re gonna use ya.” Her (E/C) eyes shot towards MM, he stood there tall and domineering, with his hands on his hips. “Starlight, or Annie told us how soft Homelander is on you. And if things go south, you are our pawn.” (Y/N)’s hearts faltered.

“You humans are so pathetic. I mean, I am old. Older than all of you put together, so I have seen shit that no one can imagine. But the one thing that never changes is the utter stupidity of you homo-sapiens, the selfishness and carnage that I have experienced puts my species to shame.” (Y/N) paced back and forth, her anger evident as black veins started to appear under her (E/C) eyes.

“(Y/N). Please, MM didn’t mean it like that,”

“I did. I did mean it exactly how I said it Becca,” (Y/N) stalked the movement of the vigilante group. Her hearing was being drowned by the loudness of her beating hearts. She watched as Becca stepped forwards and stopped right in front of her.

“My son, who was conceived in the most- my son is in there. I don’t know if you have had children before. But I am not going anywhere until I have my boy in my arms. So please, help me.” (Y/N) flinched when she felt warm hands placed onto her cold shoulders, echoes of her past resonating inside her head. She now understood the look on Becca’s face, the look of a mother- a childless mother that no longer understands their purpose in life. Because she was one.

“Okay, but I want this on my terms.”

The little boy was screaming when (Y/N) landed behind John, crying for his mommy to wake up. She looked around, seeing the two women laying lifeless. She was too late to save them. The metallic taste in the air was getting stronger the closer she walked towards the pandemonium. The woman that confided in her mere moments ago, now lay with blood flowing out the cut in her neck. She watched as Butcher tried to stop the bleeding his white hands now crimson. His whole body covered in blood, soaking him to his soul.

Turning her head, (Y/N) saw John knelt next to Stormfront or what is left of her. The burnt woman mumbling in what sounded like German. “Ryan- ‘her attention went from the barbequed supe to John, ‘did you do this?”

“He didn’t mean to John,” she watched his whole-body flinch at the sound of her voice, she was happy to see his face finally, to get some sort of justification. But the feeling that shot through her body was the complete opposite, the look in his eyes reminded her of herself, and she didn’t like it.

“What are you doing here, I thought you left?” he surged forward and cupped her face, (Y/N) placed her hand on his chest and the other on his hand. She closed her eyes and inhaled her John deeply. “(Y/N), you have no idea, I. I don’t understand.” The beating of his heart grounded her for a moment, everything around them disappeared for a moment as the two of them were caught in their own bubble. But (Y/N) knew the bubble had to be popped. And she had the sharpest needle to do it with.

“John, what happened on the plane.” She was met with silence, the hands gripped her face harder, but her eyes still remained closed. “You left them all to die, didn’t you?”

“I did not leave them to die, I tried to save them. You know this (Y/N), why are you asking me this.” His mouth was talking but his heart told her the truth. Releasing a soft sigh, (Y/N) stepped back from John and finally opened her eyes. The bubble burst when his blue eyes met pitch black, her pupils had flooded the white out leaving a demonic presence behind, the black veins appeared all over her body pulsing violently.

“I know everything John, you have been lying to me. I trusted you, and you know that.” He started to mutter words that didn’t make sense to her, his hands anchored in his hair. (Y/N) watched as the great Homelander fell apart right in front of her, Earths favourite and mightiest hero crumbled under the pressure of words.

“Now let them go John. Please?” when his blue eyes met hers, the look rivalled hell itself. His jaw twitched, tongue pocking out to lick his bottom lip. He never broke eye contact with her, his eyes tracked her like predator to prey.  (Y/N) moved cautiously, never turning her back to John. Once she was stationed in front of Butcher and the kid, she placed her right arm out and behind her. (Y/N)’s ears were ringing, the power surging through her was immense and yet she felt weak. Weak, it wasn’t a word her species spoke, and she never heard of such a word until she came to earth. Vulnerable, weak, powerless, helpless, defenceless, and fragile; all these words are now part of her vocabulary, and she was feeling every single one of them as she looked at the man she had come to love.

(Y/N) had given him not just one but both of her hearts. He was the first person that offered her his hand when the rest of this new world beat her down with their harsh words, he taught her how the ways of her new life, he was her new life. (Y/N) may have been a celestial being, but she knew when something wasn’t right. At first, she thought John was just trapping her, the distance – although not physical – was fluctuating between then constantly; first John welcomed her with open arms, then he kept her at arms-length when they got too close and then the cycle repeated.

But through all the shit he had put her through, she was still there for him. until now.

“We are going to leave, and you will never trouble them again.” Her vision was sharp as she watched the wrecked man in front of her chose the option she hoped he wouldn’t.

“You know I can’t do that, he’s my son.” And with that he charged towards them, eyes red with hunger and rage. His path changed when he felt a fist connect with his cheek, sending him flying into a tree. His world spun, staggering up onto his feet he made eye contact with the shell of the woman he loves. Her black eyes reminded him of a starless night, an abyss that was forbidden to travel.

Something cold dripped onto his lip, and out of instinct his tongue licked it away, he thought nothing of it until the unfamiliar taste of blood slithered its way down his throat. His naked hand came up and delicately touched his nose, he hissed in pain when his calloused hand touch it, retracting his hand he look in bewilderment at the blood sat there taunting him on his hand.

“You broke my nose,” his voice was meagre but loud enough for her to hear the vulnerability in it.

She turned to Butcher and the child hurriedly telling them , “get away from here, quickly,” and before she could turn back around, she was pinned to the muddy floor. Her face caked in the mixture of blood and dirt; she could feel John’s breath on her neck. Without a second thought she flung her head back and used the distraction to spin around and wrap her hand around the heroes throat. (Y/N) paid no mind to the thoughts pounding in her head, she wasn’t about to let them stop her from – whatever she thought she was doing.

“(Y/N) … (Y/N). please.” the air around them froze, she wanted answers but standing here with her hand around the nations saviour’s throat was not the way she needed to get them. “You lied to me John, the one person who promised to never lie to me. You betrayed my trust.” She threw him to the ground.

“You had me working for monsters. They never helped people!” the wind started to pick up around them, her (Y/H/C) hair danced ferociously around her face, a face that was covered in black veins pulsating in rage. (Y/N)’s head snapped to the right when she heard a twig snap, her vision was met with Butcher and the kid watching her in astonishment and fear. The kid was hiding behind Butcher, just his head poking out watching (Y/N) beat up his father. And god did he look like John. 

(Y/N)’s body moved before she could even realise what was happening, her left hand came up to stop the blow coming her way and then she knelt down, using John’s momentum against him, she throw him over her shoulder. But the outcome wasn’t in her favour as he managed to land on his feet. And then he was charging at her. Punches were thrown and bodied flung everywhere, (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to kill John, but it felt good to hurt him.

 “He’s my son (Y/N). He needs me!” his words were met with a foot to his chest.

 “No one need you John, not after what you did,” her elbow jabbed into his stomach, causing his arms to release her waist, she looked at his body lying pathetically on the forest floor. Americas strongest man, the embodiment of patriotism and pride had fallen to his knees.

 “(Y/N), you have and always will need me’, his blue eye sparkled with malicious intent, ‘no one wanted a freak roaming our home, but because I stood by your side, they welcomed you. But the moment I’m gone. You will be nothing. But a monster to the people you love so much.” Blood came flying out of his mouth as he spat his words at her. His armour had crumbled and all he had left was his words.

 “Stop” the alien smiled at the hero on his knees, her eyes only moved off his body when she felt a presence next to her. John started to get up, but (Y/N) swiftly moved forward, wrapping her arm around his neck, and gripping his hair with her free hand. She forced him to stay down, on his knees.

 Maeve came into sight, moving cautiously like she was afraid he would brake from his bond. She stopped when she was right in front of the disgraced hero. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” (Y/N) could feel John shaking in her grip. The two looked at each other in silence for a while, their eye contact unbreakable. (Y/N) spared a glance at Butcher, who was still stood in the same place.

 “You’re going to let them go,” the man in question scoffed but immediately fell silent when (Y/N) tightened her grip on his hair. He cleared his throat, moving subtlety before answering the Queen. 

“And if I don’t?” his ego spoke louder than the words coming out of his mouth, he was confident that everything was going his way. Both Maeve and (Y/N) knew that. But the moment Maeve held up the recording of the plane (Y/N) could physically feel The Homelander admitting defeat. The cries of the passengers echoed through her head, along with the bullshit lie the man in her arms fed her. ‘there was nothing we could do, the terrorist had too much control I tried to save them (Y/N). I tried.’

“You’re going to stop hunting Starlight, you’re going to leave me and Elena alone. Or I release this.” there was no room for argument, and he knew that. But he had to open his mouth. “If you do that, I’ll destroy everything and everyone.” (Y/N)’s grip tightened, she dragged his head backward and brought her lips to his bloody ear. Her voice was cold, no hint of vulnerability, no hint of emotion. 

She could feel his bones quaking under her arm as she tightened her hold on the man she had come to love. The man that made everything feel less painful, the man that she called a true friend. But standing here in the middle of a forest with two dead women, a sobbing child and a emotionless man; she realised that what her people said about the human race was true. And John had proven that to her. It took everything in (Y/N) not to simply break his neck but she wanted him to hurt. 

She wanted him to bleed.

 So, she looked up at Maeve and signalled her to get the two boys out of here, she wanted to be alone with him. she willed herself to calm down, she knew she wasn’t in the right headframe to talk to John because if she did so now, his head would be lying two feet way from his body. So, she whispered to the man calmly, hearts no longer racing with hatred or fear. She let the venom in her voice speak for itself as she whispered to Homelander. But she let man she loved hear the pain in her voice, because the man she was holding was not her John, her John had died the moment Butcher and Mother’s Milk sat down across from her in the café. However, (Y/N) had comfort as she let the ten simple words leave her mouth, because she knows that no matter how much Compound V is pumping through his body. Even the Strongest man bleeds.

 “If you do that Homelander, I will make you bleed.”

|=|=|

Hello beautiful people, I hope you enjoyed my little piece, feel free to leave comments about what you liked and didn’t like, I’m okay with a bit of constructive criticism I believe it will help me get better, and if you want anything else.

#homelander x reader #homelander #the boys #violence #angst #blood #queen maeve #alien reader #extraterestrial #the boys x reader

[toomanyrobins]

a little bird told me pt. 5

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, allusions to fertility issues, cursing, mentions of forced marriage

Word Count: 2k

Notes: Surprise! It’s a boy!

Series masterlist // next part

The first day Y/N felt like herself and the injuries had mostly healed, Pepper insisted on them going into the city and shopping. With the holidays coming up, they had a lot of events they would be required to attend and Y/n didn’t think that her old style suited her very well. Before going to meet her mom, she stopped by the Ivory to drop off a coffee to Tony and Peter. The former had tried to convince her to bring some guards with her, but she rolled her eyes at his overprotectiveness. She was outside the office texting Pepper, when she heard squeaking. When she looked up there was nothing there. She heard the noises again and followed it into the hallway. Y/N knelt down and stared into the blue eyes of a diapered baby. “Well, hello. Who do you belong to?” she lifted him out and settled him on her hip. As she shook the toy, he babbled at her.

“Jamie? Jamie!” Frantic male voices were heard calling through halls.

“If Jamie is a baby, you’ll find him in here with me!” Steve came flying around the corner, a wild look in his eyes. He lifted Jamie from her arms and hugged him to his chest, kissing his forehead. 

Y/n was surprised to see so much open affection from the blond. She tilted her head and stared, “So… who’s is he?”

“Mine,” his eyes never left the baby.

“You have a kid?” Y/N felt a twinge in her heart. Another thing she had missed because of her selfishness.

“You’d know about all of this if you had stuck around.” she winced at the harsh comment and before Steve could apologize, Bucky and Sam came running around the corner, “JAMIE!” They both ran over and quickly checked on the baby as well. The diapered infant just babbled at the three men and shook his toy, basking in the attention.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did he end up in the hallway in just a diaper?”

Steve glared at his two friends, “I made the mistake of leaving him in the care of these idiots. I have meetings for George all day.”

“He just got away from us while we were having a discussion about what outfit to put him in,” Bucky at least had the decency to look ashamed about losing his nephew.

Sam turned to him and pointed a finger, “You know the whales are much more stylish, Barnes.”

Y/N looked at the men and shook her head, “I can help watch him. We could call it part of my amends.”

“Birdie, you don’t---” She gave him a don’t mess with me look and Steve sighed, “Would you, really? That would be a huge help. He just started crawling and it’s been an adjustment. Obviously.”

“I was going to go shopping with Pepper. I’ll just bring him along.”

“You’re bringing some men with you, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “No, I hadn’t planned on it. Tony tried the same thing.” A mischievous grin spread across her face, “But, since they already had their day cleared to watch Jamie, I’m sure Bucky and Sam will be up to the task.”

“I thought if you would take the kid, I could get some other stuff done.”

“You thought wrong, Buckaroo. Boys, pack your bags. We leave in an hour.” Steve and Y/N walked away, talking about Jamie’s routine. The other two men were left glaring at each other, still bitter about their argument earlier. The duo walked into Steve’s office and were greeted with a baby explosion. 

The blond cursed under his breath, “I swear this room was organized when I left an hour ago.”

“I believe you, big guy.” She patted his arm, before turning to Jamie and picking him up, “Okay, little man, let’s get you dressed.” Y/N made quick work and blew a raspberry on his stomach when she was done. A huge smile grew across her face when she heard the baby giggles. She looked up and saw a strange look on Steve’s face, “What? Is there something on my face?”

“It’s just so strange to see you again.”

“Stevie…”

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. I’m glad you’re back. I’d forgotten what life was like with you around.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean let’s face it, Birdie, you have the nickname for a reason. You never stayed in one place long enough and it was exhausting the amount of energy you had.”

“Am I still that same person in your eyes?”

“Some of it is the same. It was always hard to imagine you settling down. But, the minute you are around kids, it’s an entirely different story. If you ever decide to settle down, you will be an amazing parent.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the thought of her secret. She felt herself starting to get emotional and busied herself by going through the diaper bag. Once she had herself back under control, she smiled up at him, “Well, you made a damn cute kid, Stevie.”

“Don’t I know it,” he smiled down at his son. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh to herself at the imagery of the large man holding such a small child. “Okay, Jamie, be good for Birdie. I’ll see you later. Oh, and here’s a key to my truck and the apartment in case you’re done before I am.” 

“I’ll text you plenty of photos.”

“Thank you for this,” Steve leaned down to kiss her cheek and whispered in her ear, “I missed you more than you know.” He had left her breathless with that last comment and she moved robotically as she put Jamie into the car and headed to meet Pepper. Her mother had raised her eyebrow at her showing up with the baby, Sam, and Bucky, but laughed when she heard the whole story. 

While her mother enjoyed shopping, the activity was the bane of Y/N’s existence. They moved quickly through the stores, grabbing what she needed and trying things on. Jamie was on his best behavior, even clapping a few times when Y/N had come out of the dressing room. Despite the fact that they all knew it didn’t mean anything, anything the baby reacted to was purchased. By the time they had finished, everyone was dead on their feet and the baby was knocked out in his stroller. 

Y/N decided to let Pepper take all of the clothes back to the house and she went back to Steve’s apartment to put Jamie down for a proper nap. Walking through the door was like entering a time capsule. The only difference was the addition of baby things. She walked through the hallway and looked at the pictures and framed sketches on the wall. Y/N stopped in front of a picture of them from Tony’s infamous Christmas party four years ago. Steve had been her guard for over a year at that point and the two of them had spent practically every day together. It was hard to believe how much the two people in that photo had changed. As she moved further down, the sketches she had stolen and framed for him still had pride of place. Her musings were interrupted by her phone chirping:

Steve: I’m sorry, but meetings are running longer than planned. Are you okay with Jamie? You can bring him to Becca if you have plans.

Y/N: No plans. I’m happy to stay. You focus on work. Little man and I got this.

She walked into the kitchen and found a drawer of takeaway menus and the cabinets only filled with food for Jamie. When he woke up from his nap, she pulled her shoes on, “This won’t do, little man. We are going to the grocery store." Y/N strapped Jamie to her chest and walked to the nearest store. They made quick work at the shop, filling the cart with essentials. Once she got back to the apartment, she put the baby in his high chair with a snack. Music filled the kitchen as she danced around. 

Steve came home and followed the delicious smells and music playing. He found Y/N in the kitchen, dancing with Jamie in her arms. He leaned on the door frame, watching her hips sway as she switched her focus between what was on the pan in front of her and his son. Birdie Stark was definitely not a teenager anymore. He walked into the kitchen and put his hand on her waist, making her jump. “Jesus!”

He chuckled and took Jamie from her, “Nope, just me, sweetheart.”

“You scared the crap out of me.”

He apologized, but didn’t sound that sorry. He stared down at her, thinking how the flush on her cheeks from the heat suited her. “Are you making dinner?”

Y/N suddenly looked nervous. “I’m not overstepping, am I? You said you’d be working late and I thought I’d help out,” she looked up at him and smirked, "Plus, I saw the takeaway drawer.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I’m mad at a home cooked meal. But from what I remember, you once set fire to a pot of water.”

She threw her head back and laughed, “That was almost five years ago, I will have you know. My skills have vastly improved. Y/N realized how close she and Steve were standing. She pulled away and felt his hand slip away from where it had been resting comfortably on her waist. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Jamie who was babbling at him. 

Y/N dished up two plates and got Jamie’s bottle ready. “Birdie, you don’t have to do that. I can feed him and eat after.”

“You’ve been at work all day, Steve, and I know for a fact you forget to eat. I don’t mind, really.” She settled herself on the couch with Jamie in her arms and her plate on the arm. . He held his own bottle and she ate a few bites while staring at the baby in her arms. She was entirely unaware of Steve watching her, 

He rubbed his eyes and took a pull from his beer, “I can’t believe it’s only 7. I feel like today will never end.”

“Did you say 7? Shit!” Y/N looked worried, “I need to go.” She had forgotten that she had made an appointment with a doctor to make sure that she wasn’t pregnant. Her paranoia had taken over and she had to be sure. 

“Why? Where are you going?”

“Birdie, you’ve been going all day. Just reschedule.”

“I can’t, Steve.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you.” They sat in awkward silence, the only noise coming from Jamie and he hungrily sucked at the bottle. She kept her eyes on the baby and whispered, “Are you mad at me?”

Steve sighed and came to kneel down in front of her, “Why would I be mad at you, sweetheart?”

She ran a finger over Jamie’s cheek, biding her time, “Because I’m keeping secrets. That tends to make others angry.”

“God, Birdie, no. I’m not angry. I’m disappointed that you think you aren’t safe to share, but i never want you to be scared of me.” Y/N nodded sadly. Steve wanted herto tell him everything, “Want to help me put Jamie to bed? 

She shook her head and passed the baby to him, “I should go. It’s late.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll just call for a driver. You haven’t seen Jamie all day, you should spend some time together.” Y/N grabbed her bag and jacket, and leaned over to kiss the wiggling child.

“I have tomorrow afternoon off, want to go for lunch?” Steve tilted her head up to meet her eyes, “We can go to Galletti’s.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Y/N got on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, “Night, Stevie.”

He grinned, “What have I told you about calling me that?”

“Follow through on your threat and I might actually take you seriously.” 

#mafia au #mafia!steve #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!avengers #mob!au #mob!steve #mob!avengers #mobster!steve rogers #Avengers #avengers au #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #toomanyrobins

[novelconcepts]

novel, just look at this https://www.instagram.com/p/CMILP2ZAjsw/?igshid=1ve4cwcbiy69y

mayhaps you could use this as a prompt sometime? 👀 (no pressure)

The greatest injustice in the world, Owen Sharma thinks, is in how many women he’s buried. How many loved ones--why are brilliant young women always punished?--he’s laid to rest. How many times he’s looked away for only a second, only to find they’ve slipped through his fingers.

The greatest injustice in the world, Owen thinks, is in how many times he’s stood over the graves of women who should have had so much more time. Women with new recipes untested, new cities left unexplored, new experiences permanently unlived. Rebecca Jessel will never practice law. Hannah Grose will never see Paris. Dani Clayton will never...

Dani will never...

He’s never even there. Maybe that’s the worst part of all--that he’s always just off-camera, always just this side of where he ought to be. At home, when Rebecca drowned; at the manor when his mother passed; looking at his shoes while Hannah...

And now: now, with no warning at all, the phone ringing in the middle of the night. The voice on the other end is almost unrecognizably flat. The voice on the other end, he thinks, will haunt his dreams for years to come.

“Come to Vermont.”

“Jamie?” She sounds wrong. Not simply too calm, not simply too level, but as though all the life has been wrung from her body. As though she’s calling him from another plane altogether, and Owen will later be embarrassed by his first awful thought: She’s dead. She’s calling me from her own grave. It’s Hannah all over again.

But of course nothing ever could be. Nothing could ever match Hannah, the impossibility of her that summer. The impossible, cruel way the universe had of pushing her nearly into his arms before letting that trapdoor fall open beneath his feet. Jamie isn’t dead; Jamie is breathing into the other end of the phone, as though straining to keep herself together. Which can only mean one thing. 

He’s on the first flight. A bag with a few changes of clothes, a passport, a photo he is to this day unable to travel without. The plane juddering beneath him, his legs crammed into the small space, he presses his thumb to the smile beneath the plastic sheet. 

Hannah, I don’t know how to do this again. He’s never quite known how to do it at all, how to be this person--and wasn’t that because of Jamie all along? Jamie, who had found Rebecca’s body and made all the appropriate calls, her expression stony as she’d explained to the police how they’d found her. Jamie, who had answered the phone that night, turning on her heel with eyes that suddenly took up half her face, apologizing as he’d never heard her do before. Jamie, who made arrangements for food and drink while he stood like a puncture wound in blue jeans staring at what was left of his mother’s estate. 

Jamie, who stood beside him in front of a well, looking down even when he hadn’t been able to stomach it any longer. Jamie, always looking down into the face of cold reality. 

He’s never quite where he needs to be when it happens, but Jamie is. Jamie has always been. She is almost unfairly good at it: standing tall, accepting the truth, holding them all up when they shatter. 

And now, here she is: opening the door in cuffed jeans and a rumpled brown flannel shirt. Here she is, a few years older than Paris, looking at him like she’s never seen him before. Like the woman who called was someone else entirely. He thinks he sees a little of his mother in the blank distance of her eyes, and his heart cracks. 

“What happened?”

She turns from him, gesturing for him to come in. The flat, which has every hallmark of home, is surprisingly warm. Surprisingly messy, too--there are clothes on the couch, most of them things he recognizes as Dani’s from the photos they’ve been mailing his way for years. The floor is covered with pots, lemongrass and tiny succulents and a large-leaved plant he doesn’t recognize standing proudly amid clods of dirt, a watering can, several crumpled packs of cigarettes. 

She reaches for one of these now, taps out the final smoke into her palm, crunches the wrapping. “Want one?”

That voice again, that strange timbre--the accent a little less than he remembers, a little ironed-out by nearly fifteen years in this country, though that isn’t what works a shiver up his spine. It’s so flat. It’s so toneless. Jamie has been many things since he’s known her--angry, aggressive, cool, even violent--but never this detached. 

He’s never seen her like this. He’s never thought to worry he ever would. Jamie has aways been the most stable of them, taking up the mantle when even he couldn’t carry it. 

We, he thinks wearily, are the survivors. The witnesses. No one ever talks about what that’s like. 

Untrue. People talk about it. People who do useful things, like attend support groups, or get themselves to therapy. Henry does, sometimes--nursing seltzer, smiling ruefully at Owen over dinner. We think it’s the losing them that hurts the worst, until it happens, he’d said once. It isn’t. It’s the part where you have to keep waking up, dreaming for a split second each morning they’re still here. 

Nearly fifteen years, and there hasn’t been a single morning Owen hasn’t thought absently of calling her up. Not one where he hasn’t thought, Been too long without her voice. Without her laugh. God, that woman’s laugh. 

“Jamie...”

Her head comes up sharply, her eyes flashing--and then, like it was never there, the expression passes. She lights the cigarette with a steady hand, settles herself back on the rug with it clamped between her teeth. There’s soil smudged on her cheek, caked into her hair, and he wonders when last she showered. 

“Jamie, do you want to talk about it?”

She doesn’t. He knows that. He remembers too well how she’d sat beside him on a sofa in 1987, passed him a bottle of wine in silence. How she’d said simply, covering all bases in two words, “Fuck it.” 

It had been Dani, he remembers, who spoke of it first. Dani, looking paler than normal, looking shaken, saying firmly, “We should do something. We should do something for her.”

“Sit,” Jamie says without looking at him. She’s already getting back into it, he realizes--working her hands carefully back into a terra cotta pot, brushing the soil from spindly roots with loving care. It’s how she looked after Rebecca, brow furrowed, smoking and working in silence. There are problems that can’t be managed, he understands, and the only way someone like Jamie can tolerate that fact is to find new troubles to set right.

“Where is she, Jamie?” She’s not going to like this, he knows. He’d hate it, in her place. Had hated it, whenever someone dared speak Hannah’s name for those first few months. She’s going to hate him for it now.

But someone has to speak. Someone has to throw the line, lest she drift too far to come back. She called. There was a reason for it. 

“Jamie. Where is she?”

She gives him nothing. Jets smoke, taps ash into an empty beer can, keeps her eyes on the work. This isn’t like after Rebecca, he can see--Jamie back then had been hard-edged, furious that she hadn’t gotten to Becca in time, but she’d at least been willing to hold conversation. More than willing. It had seemed to ground her, reflecting on the Peter Quint of it all, on the shame of not being able to help enough, on how to explain it to the kids. 

Now, she sits with her back against the couch, her eyes not tracking the progress of her own hands. Owen, kneeling beside her, feels as though the room is waiting for something. Waiting for a knife to slide into the bubble she’s built, tearing it open to allow all that building water to rush in. 

He changes tack. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Three days,” she says. Her face is scrunched with concentration, her fingers testing something he can’t track in the roots. 

“Have you eaten?”

“’Course,” she says, gesturing recklessly with the cigarette at a stack of pizza boxes, several empty wine bottles, a dozen abandoned mugs.��“All the food groups.”

“Slept?” He remembers that was the worst part, sleeping. Before it had all gone wrong, he’d gone to bed each night with a promise: Tomorrow, I’ll tell her. Tomorrow, I’ll finally do it. 

After, he’d stayed up until dawn in the kitchen, kneading dough, testing wilder and wilder concoctions. Jamie would stumble in at three in the morning, still half-asleep, to find him shoving a bowl of batter under her nose. 

Here. Try this. What does it need?

Cinnamon, she’d say gamely, though she’d clearly only been craving a glass of water. He’d slump against the table, head hanging between his arms.

She’d say it was divine as-is. 

Yeah, well. She always did like to see that idiot grin. 

“Jamie,” he says now, patiently. “Have you slept?”

She shrugs. He doesn’t need to walk down the hall to know the bed is likely sitting untouched, perfectly made--or, worse, exactly as she’d rolled out of it the last time. Exactly how she’d left it, when whatever had gone wrong had happened. 

It’s so easy, leaving things. 

It’s nearly impossible, setting them right again when the bigger problem can’t be fixed.

“Where is she, Jamie?” He hates himself. Hates pushing her. Hates the way her shoulders square a little tighter, her jaw clenching, her muddy fingers stretching to find an unopened pack of cigarettes to replace the one burned to nearly nothing between her lips. “Jamie. You called me.”

“Wouldn’t have,” she grumbles, “if I’d thought you’d talk this fucking much.”

Not true. He can see it in her, the shade not of the woman she’d been when they had met--hardy, rugged, a little grin around her mouth that said she’d make him regret it if he even considered pulling on her strings--but the one Dani had loved into being. We are all, he thinks, shaped by the love they give. Changes the molecules. Turns us from dough to something worth serving. 

The woman he’d met, tempered by a past she never discussed, patience she couldn't quite get a handle on, wouldn’t want him to talk this much.

The woman she is now, the one who had sat in his restaurant watching Dani like she was written in the only language worth knowing, called for a reason.

“Jamie.”

“Stop.” She closes her eyes. Her hands are shaking too hard to work out another cigarette, too hard to urge the Bic to light. 

“Where,” he asks gently. She’s shaking her head. When did so much silver slip into her hair? When did those lines crop up around her mouth? How long has it been, since he was where she needed him to be?

Didn’t need me. Not then. Had everything she needed, with Dani, but now--

“Jamie, where--”

“She’s gone.” Her eyes are blazing, her lips trembling. He has never, never seen this look on her face. This shattered, almost exultant misery is impossible to endure. She doesn’t look like Jamie now. She is only a collection of her worst fears made real. “She’s gone, Owen. She’s--”

She hunches into herself, a single crack splitting like a windscreen beneath a thrown rock. One foot lashes out sharply, sending a pot cartwheeling over onto its side. 

“She’s fucking gone,” she repeats in a voice like a woman kicked in the stomach. She raises her eyes, red-rimmed, and almost smiles. “I fell asleep.”

Strange, he thinks as he shuffles across the rug to wrap his arms around her, the last thought that kicks out when they’re gone. Not I should have told her, not I should have been there, but: I was in the kitchen. Not I should have stopped her, not I should have been faster, but: I fell asleep. The should doesn’t matter anymore, once they’re gone. All that matters is what you did. Where you were. What you can never change. 

“I fell asleep,” she repeats, and there’s nothing flat about her voice now. Even speaking of Rebecca, the Wingraves, Hannah, she’s never sounded half this shattered. “I fell asleep, Owen. I fell--”

He’s pressing his face against her shoulder, feeling unforgivably enormous draped this way over her slight frame. She folds double, rocking back and forth, one hand digging so hard into the other arm that he’ll be gently patching bloody gouges in an hour’s time. For now, he only sways with her, allowing the momentum of her grief to rock him back and forth, back and forth.

“She’s gone,” she says again. “She’s gone. She’s--”

He’ll stay a while--not quite feeling secure leaving her on her own, not quite willing to risk letting her slide back into this space. He’ll stay, helping her in the kitchen (She was better at it. Less likely to poison us, anyway.), and with the nightmare of making those phone calls (Her mum needs to know. Hated me, but still. And Judy O’Mara. And Henry. Fuck. The kids won’t even...). She won’t let him near the bedroom, won’t let him tuck her into that bed. The one and only time he’ll offer to help sift through Dani’s belongings, she’ll flex a fist around a bottle like she’s thinking of swinging it at him. 

She won’t look at him when he steps into the bathroom to find the tub draining over the side onto the floor, either, the sink full of clean water. When he opens his mouth to question, she’ll reach past him, slap down the plunger, stride out of the room without a word. 

Leave her whatever rituals she needs, he’ll think, remembering all those unnecessary three-a.m. cakes. Leave her whatever ghosts she can’t let go. 

He’ll stay as long as she needs, he decides with her beginning to sob at last. He’s never quite been there, when it happens--never been able to look death in the eye as Jamie has. It’s the greatest injustice in the world, how many loved ones have gone on without him, leaving only stories in their wake. 

He’s never where he needs to be, to stop it happening--but he can be here. For a little while, at least. He can hold her, and he can look down. 

There is no justice, this time, in letting Jamie believe she needs to be strong enough to do it alone.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #politely: you did ask for this #I take no responsibility for wounds inflicted #also this art is fucking heartbreaking and I always crave more when this artist does anything #so like. couldn’t resist. but it’s still not my fault

[fanficimagery]

‘Cause We’re Gonna Be Legends; pt. 2

Summary: Imagine wandering the Boardwalk with your friends. A group of boys catch their attention and while your friends are doing everything to catch their attention in return, they are apparently more interested in the oblivious girl of the bunch who doesn't care to bat her eyelashes at them. You. [Part Two]

Words: 9.5K Warnings: This is why I don’t do sequels. I think they’re a good idea and then halfway through I lose interest/have no idea what the hell I’m doing. But I powered through and this was the end product. Enjoy. Also I forgot to mention in the first part that Max doesn’t really exist in here which is why he’s never mentioned.  Homophobic slur? It happens once, but it’s in there. There’s also a dash of spice, if you catch my drift. Lol. Implied (but it does NOT happen) sexual assault. And violence.

For a few days, your fever is up and down. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as it once was, so you're able to actually wear the appropriate clothes for having guests over. Your girls are very apologetic for not being much help, but are excited when you start looking better and even planned a night to stay in with you. Unfortunately, but fortunately for them, the night they stayed in with you happened to also be a night the boys decided to drop in as well.

They squealed when Paul sauntered in and immediately pecked your lips. Their eyes widened when Marko pecked your left cheek and Dwayne your right. And then their jaws dropped when David brought up the rear, smirking, and pecked your forehead. The room was quiet- too quiet- and the girls were surprised whereas the boys were smug. Assholes.

So instead of movie night, you answered the questions your girls threw at you while the boys went out to pick up some food after everyone but you chipped in for because Marko wouldn't take your cash. Ruby was the only one extremely impressed with your situation while the other three remained skeptical. You and Ruby tried to make light of the situation, especially for afterward when you would be able to explore your relationship with the four boys, but you knew it would take a while for Emily, Becca, and Jessica to come around. If they came around.

Ruby had stuck around for as long as she could when the boys returned with the food, but the moment the other three girls ate they quickly made excuses to leave. Sadly, Ruby followed. You weren't able to hide the fact you were hurt by their actions, but Ruby assured you it would all be okay.

It wasn't. Not really. Because when you were fully recovered and called to hang out, half the girls were quick to make excuses. Only Ruby and Becca were fine with your decisions, and made attempts to hang out without Emily and Jessica around.

And Ruby and Becca? Those two were apparently a force to be reckoned with now that they knew you had four boyfriends. From one day to the next your entire wardrobe had been altered, and though it was nothing too bad you weren't exactly stoked to be comfortable in new clothes at the drop of a hat.

So walking down the boardwalk one night, you keep alternating between pulling on your tank top in hopes it'll become looser and tugging on the hem of your shorts in hope that they'll be longer. Your jackets had all mysteriously gone missing and you were going to punch your friends the next time you saw them.

Before you know it you're coming upon four familiar motorcycles. The boys are all missing, but you know it's only a matter of time before they come back. So instead of searching for them, you lean against the railing behind their bikes and wait for them to come to you. Fortunately, you don't have to wait long.

David and Dwayne spot you first, but in the few days you've gotten to explore your compatibility with each of them you noticed that these two were not into public displays of affection. So when they greet you, they smile and nod, and make sure to brush up against some part of you as they make their way to their respective bikes. Marko blows you a kiss from where he's got Paul in a headlock and then when Paul is set free he practically beams at you.

"Hey pretty lady, come here often?" He teases as he sidles up to you.

Your nose wrinkles as you laugh, accepting his loud smacking kiss to the lips. "That was so cheesy."

"But at least it made you laugh." Paul slings his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side, and you can't help but try to melt into his side to hide.

"Where'd your friends get off to?" Marko wonders, eyeing you up and down. "Your outfit doesn't seem like something you'd pick out yourself."

You sigh. "If they're smart they won't dare to cross my path for the foreseeable future. Those assholes switched out my entire closet and stole all my jackets so I couldn't cover up."

"Well if you ask me, those friends of yours are pretty smart." David lights up a cigarette, smirking around it before blowing out a steady stream of smoke. You flip him off.

"I could deal with it if I had a large flannel or something, but nope. They took everything that would offer a few inches of cover-up."

"Well why didn't you just say so, babe." Paul moves his arm from your shoulders, shaking out of his own jacket. The chains hanging from it jingle at all the movement and you smile as he drops his jacket over your shoulders.

You slide your arms through the sleeves, flexing your fingers from where they barely peek out. You grab both sides of the jacket and close it over your chest, crossing your arms over it to keep yourself hidden and are content when you realize the hem of the jacket falls a few inches further than what your shorts covered.

"Oh no," Paul mumbles. "I made a mistake."

"What?"

"You look so cute in my jacket." You huff a laugh but notice his gaze sweeping you up and down, and his tongue peeking out to lick the corner of his bottom lip. When he meets your gaze then, you gulp and shiver when you see the heat simmering there. "Come on. You're mine for the night." He grabs your wrist and tugs, and you stare at your other three boys in surprise.

David and Dwayne grin, and Marko cheerfully waves you off. "Don't get caught!"

You don't have time to process Marko's words before Paul's dragging you down the boardwalk stairs. You do your best to keep up, laughing, and then yank back against Paul's grip once you hit sand. "Hey, slow down! You have longer legs than I do and speed walking through sand is not easy."

"Sorry. M'sorry."

Paul whirls around, cupping your face in his hands and leaning down to hungrily press his lips against yours as he walks you backward. Your hands wrap around his wrists as you lean up on your tiptoes in an attempt to match his enthusiasm and you can't help but smile when you stumble along the way. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips and when they part he's quick to lick into your mouth before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

You moan quietly and then gasp when your back hits something solid. The moment you pull back to look around your surroundings, Paul attaches his lips to your neck. He tilts your head this way and that way so he can lick and nip to his heart's content, and down to your collarbone. Only then do you realize you're underneath the boardwalk now.

"Paul." Your hands delve into his hair, gripping and tugging when you feel him going lower and lower. "Paul!" You then laugh. He's already on his knees, face level with your stomach as he stares up at you with a hooded gaze. "All this because I'm wearing your jacket? Seriously?"

He numbly nods. "Yes. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to it."

His hands go to the button and zipper on your jean shorts, and you catch his hands with your own. "We're not having sex here. I'm not about to get sand in places it's never supposed to be."

He chuckles huskily, opening his jacket further and pushing up the hem of your tank top. He kisses you just below your navel. "No sex. Promise," he says just as he gives your stomach a kitten lick. You squirm and quietly whimper. "But I really need to get my mouth on you."

"Fine." You gulp, but then clear your throat and slowly release his hands when you realize no one's around. "But if we're called out by anyone, I'm kicking your ass after you kick theirs."

He laughs. "Deal."

Paul makes quick work of unbuttoning your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties. They get caught on your shoes as you try stepping out of them, so Paul pulls those off as well. Your feet are only in the warm, damp sand for a couple of seconds before Paul's lifting your right leg and setting it over his shoulder.

You gasp as you're suddenly opened up and a little self conscious as Paul stares at what he's only heard about from Marko and Dwayne so far. One hand finds its way to the wooden column at your back and the other splays across your lower abdomen before sliding down to shield your pussy from his view. Though the moment your fingers brush over your tingling folds, your breath catches and Paul smirks up at you.

"Don't worry, baby girl. You've got absolutely nothing to be nervous about." With one hand trailing up and down the leg you're still standing on, Paul uses his other hand to pull yours away from his prize. He licks the wetness from your fingers and a whimper catches at the back of your throat as he groans in appreciation. "Fuck. Marko's right. You do taste good."

"Babe," you whine. "You need to- I need you to-"

"I got you."

Warmth covers your mound and you moan aloud, cursing when Paul's tongue then licks you from entrance to clit. Your right hand tries to find purchase on the column at your back while the other delves into Paul's hair, smoothing it back before gripping it so you can see his face properly between your legs. Teeth nip, his tongue swirls, and you can't help your thighs tensing before you're grinding against his mouth.

"Please, please, please."

Paul pulls back, obscenely licking the wetness from around his mouth as he chuckles. "You're really wet, Y/N. Do the others know just how much you enjoy screwing around in public?"

"Paul," you mewl. You try to pull his face closer once more, but he doesn't budge. Anger slowly rising, you manage to narrow your eyes at him. "If you don't get your mouth back on me, I'm gonna-" But while you were busy getting angry, you hadn't seen his hand moving towards your center. So when you feel two of his fingers tease your entrance, you pause and then moan when he slips them inside.

Slowly pumping his fingers in and out, Paul chuckles. "What was that?"

"N-Nothing. Just please. Make me cum."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

With his fingers slowly building you up and his mouth now working you over once more, you give yourself up to the pleasure and no longer care about being seen or heard.

Half an hour later, you and Paul rejoin the others, hand in hand. All three boys smirk knowingly at you and you roll your eyes when Paul refuses to let you go with any of them.

"Enjoy yourselves?" Marko wiggles his eyebrows.

Paul immediately assures them you did and you shrug, refusing to feed his ego or give the boys any details as to what exactly happened. You had a feeling they either already knew somehow or would know soon given how open they all are with each other.

The next few weeks are a bit of blur, but a good blur at that. You're a little sad that you hadn't seen your girls in a while since the boys took up so much of your time, but you eventually let it go when you realized they didn't make an effort to reach out anyway. So learning to let go, you busied yourself with working during the day and then spending the nighttime hours with your boys. You'd never been with someone who you actually wanted to spend every waking hour with, so you lived in the moment and just enjoyed the crazy shenanigans your boyfriends got up to.

You had figured intimacy with them would be weird, and in the beginning it was since there were four of them, but things just kind of fell into place after the first time you slept with each of them. Each boy was different when they got you alone, and you were pleasantly surprised each of them met needs even you yourself had no idea you had. None of them were jealous or possessive when it came to each other, but they made sure to let anyone else know you were off limits.

They'd even taken you to see where they lived and you were shocked. Given their styles and personalities, you didn't know what to expect of their living situation, but a sunken hotel was not it. But the more they showed you around and you realized they had water and generators for some electricity, the more you liked the seclusion of it all. And when you finally got comfortable being there with them, the boys made what was basically a nest for you- a mattress with numerous blankets and pillows, and sheer curtains hanging around it all. So now that you had your own bedroom of sorts, more often than not that's where you ended up with Dwayne since he was the only one who actually liked to roll around in your sheets and cuddle for as long as you'd let him afterwards.

Still naked and with sweat cooling on your bodies, you're laying in the crook of Dwayne's arm with your chest pressed to his side and a sheet covering you from the waist down. He trails fingers up and down the spine of your back, and he chuckles every time he runs across a ticklish spot that sends you arching into him with a sleepy giggle.

Just as you're drifting off, however, the curtain around your bed is pulled open and David appears with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. "You gonna stay in bed all night?"

"Hmm. You put out that cigarette and you can join us." Dwayne's hand freezes on your back and David raises his eyebrows at you. "What?" You huff. "Don't pretend like none of you haven't thought about it."

A moment passes and then David smirks. "Tempting, but the other boys are itching for a night on the boardwalk."

"A night on the boardwalk? More like Marko's itching for a fight," you muse. "He hasn't been chased off the boardwalk in about three days. He must be bored." David chuckles and flicks away his cigarette after one last drag, entering your little nest and crawling into bed so he's situated behind you. You groan as he starts to trail his fingers along your back, inching lower and lower until he's teasing just under the sheet at your lower back. "If we go out tonight, someone's gotta drive me home earlier than usual. I got work in the morning."

"What time?" Dwayne asks.

"I gotta be in the office by ten." You giggle when David's fingers walk over your waist, kicking back at him when he digs his fingers in a little. As you settle down, you sigh. "Why do I have to be an adult? You guys have it so easy here. It seems like you don't worry about a thing." Fingers cease their movement on your back, and David and Dwayne share a calculating look over your head. "Sleep all day, party all night. If only."

David smirks and hope sparks up in each of them. It couldn't be this easy, could it? It would surely take more convincing. But before David or Dwayne can ask you more about your sudden annoyance at having responsibilities, Marko and Paul are entering the main room from one of their dark tunnels they always disappear into.

Soon. We'll talk to her soon.

It's one of the rare nights that all the boys are busy and you have too much energy to remain in your apartment all by yourself. You haven't heard from the girls in weeks, even though you've seen them on the boardwalk when you were with one of the boys, but they never made an attempt to approach you even after you had smiled and waved at them. Apparently those friendships were officially over, so when the boys disappeared you had no one but your own self to do things with.

They had warned you not to wander the boardwalk or the beach by yourself at night, but you've been doing it long before you had met them so you didn't think anything of it as you headed out.

The boardwalk is busy so you find yourself heading down onto the beach where it's a bit quieter. It's lit up thanks to the many flashing lights from the boardwalk, but you find yourself wandering further and further down the beach. There's a party going on around a small bonfire and when you see the numerous surf-Nazi's, you head towards the water in hopes of skirting their group without being seen. Unfortunately, Fate has other plans.

The first catcall has your shoulders hunching. You know better than to rush away because it'll only encourage them to chase, so instead you hesitantly look over at them and offer a wave. After that, you face forward and continue walking.

More catcalls ring out and the flirtatious invitations to join them get louder and louder, which means some of them are getting closer and closer. Your anxiety spikes and dread fills you. You should have stayed on the boardwalk.

"Hey, sweet face, where are you going?" Someone asks, slinging an arm around your shoulders and turning you back around to face the party. "The fun is this way."

"Oh I'm sure," you nervously chuckle. "But I just came out here to clear my head. I'm not in the mood to party. Sorry."

"Aw. Don't be like that. The night is young!" The way he moves his free arm as he talks and the way he slurs his words a little lets you know you're in trouble. "Come meet my friends. A couple of them could use a pretty little thing like you to lift their spirits."

You make the mistake of not putting up enough of a fight and regret it the moment one of the guys around the fire somewhat recognizes you. "Hey, aren't you that girl those queers on bikes pass around?" You tense as his friends laugh and cheer. "You hoping to be passed around by some real men for a change, little girl?"

You grimace and hug yourself as if that would help protect you. "I'm not hoping for anything other than to get home. Your friend is the one who dragged me over."

"And yet here you still stand," he muses. "Sit. Have a beer before the fun begins."

"No thanks. I really should get going. My friends are waiting for me."

Just as you turn, a hand grips your wrist. "Oh, but we insist." The pressure of the guy's grip tightens and you gasp in shock.

You knew you were in trouble before, but now it's a lot more real and scary. The more you struggle to get free, the more the guys around the fire laugh and jeer. The fear in your eyes only eggs them on more and the two of the guys shove you back and forth, never letting you get more than a few steps away from them. There's a boombox playing music and the moment it's turned up to its max, you scream.

You scream for someone to help you when a couple of the guys toy with their belt buckles and promise you loads of fun, you plead for them to let you go when they pull at your shirt, and you sob when you're shoved into the sand. You attempt to crawl away, but you're quickly flipped onto your back and someone grabs at your ankles.

You scream again.. and then the impossible happens.

Something flies down from the sky, plucking the individual holding onto you before flying away with him. There's screaming, this time coming from up above, and then a shower of liquid. Your heart pounds furiously as you smear the droplets on your cheek with your fingers and then whimper when you make out its color. It's red.

All the guys who'd been so sure about themselves and what they were about to do moments ago are now screaming, being tossed around and ripped apart one right after the other. You scramble backwards, keeping low to the ground and hoping to not be seen by whatever is taking delight in their destruction.

Only one of the creatures fully steps into the firelight, laughing, and you freeze up when you recognize some of its- his features. It's David.

A whimper escapes from the back of your throat as you whisper his name in question and David's gaze snaps in your direction. His cruel smile falls and the others around the fire slowly turn towards you. Paul and Marko are bloodied around their mouths, their expressions falling when they realize what you've just witnessed.

As you slowly stand, you keep your eyes on them and inch backwards as if they'd attack you at any second. You cease breathing all together and then turn to run for your life. Only you get a few steps in before you run smack dab into a person, falling back into the sand on your ass.

"Please don't kill me!" You cry. "I w-won't say anything. I promise!"

The person squats in front of you and you realize then it's Dwayne. He's not as bloody as everyone else, but the evidence of what he's done is plain as day on his chin and down his bare chest. You whimper. "W-What are you?"

His throat bobs as he gulps, but instead of answering he asks, "What are you doing down here on the beach?"

"I- you guys just.." You stutter on a sob, shaking your head as if you can't believe what you just saw.

"You're in shock." David walks up on your left and you flinch at his close proximity. "Let me take you home."

"Why?" You sniffle. "You rather kill me in the comfort of my own home rather than on the beach with the rest of the scum?"

"We're not going to kill you, Y/N."

"No? You sure as hell had no problem killing these guys just now!" You say. When you realize just who- or rather what- you're talking back to, you snap your mouth shut and avert your gaze.

"I'll be taking Y/N home." The tone of David's voice brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You're so sure that there's no walking away unscathed from this. "You boys are on clean-up."

When David reaches for your hands, you don't bother fighting him. You feel absolutely drained and it doesn't matter if you scream or attempt to run. Whatever the boys are, you know they could overpower you in a heartbeat. But the second you're standing shakily on your own two feet, you yank your hands out of David's grasp and cross your arms over your chest.

For a second you think you see hurt flash across David's expression, but it's gone within the next blink. His expression hardens and you flinch when he grabs you by your elbow to guide you away. His grip isn't hurtful, but it's obvious that if you try to yank away from him again you won't be going anywhere.

The closer you get to the populated boardwalk, the easier it is to breathe. Your heart even calms some, but when David leads you towards his bike you start to drag your feet. "My car. I d-drove here."

"One of the others will drive it back." You frown at him, but he doesn't see because he busies himself with climbing onto his bike. You take his moment of distraction to glance around at the people walking around you, part of you hoping to catch someone's eye, but David's voice squashes that hope right away. "Do you really want me to kill whoever it is you plan to tell about what you saw? Be smart, Y/N. We have to protect our secret."

"And what exactly is the secret, David?"

Though the situation is anything but funny, he smiles at you. His smile makes your stomach churn. "Get on the bike, Y/N. It's time to go home."

Your bottom lip wobbles under his intense stare, but you quickly put a stop to it and suck it up. Hesitantly reaching for his shoulder, you then cautiously climb up onto the back of his bike. You grab onto the sides of his jacket rather than wrap your arms around his waist, and shakily exhale when David doesn't mention it and starts his bike instead.

The ride back to your apartment is a tense one and you hop off the back of David's bike before he's even cut the engine. Your arms are once again crossed over your chest and your heart starts to beat faster when you realize he intends to follow you inside.

He stays one step behind you the entire way up to your apartment door, but he remains standing in the hallway when you enter your apartment and turn to face him. "What happens n-now?"

"What do you think happens now?"

"Goddammit, David!" Your frustration mixes with your fear and you end up crying again. "I just saw you-" you pause, angrily wiping away tears and lowering your voice, "-all four of you rip apart those surf-Nazi's like it was nothing. And you- it looked like you were eating them and I- I don't- I can't-"

"Hey. Hey, shh." David takes a step closer and moves to cradle to face in the palm of his hands, but you jerk out of his reach.

"I should be running for the hills and screaming at the top of my lungs about what I've just seen."

"Yeah? Then why aren't you?"

"I don't know." You blink the tears from your eyes and sniffle. "I wanna scream and I wanna rage and I wanna cry more than I already have, but for some reason- for some goddamn reason my heart hurts just even thinking about uttering a word of what I saw."

"What do you want from me? From us? Name it and it's yours."

"Time. And space." You gulp. "I need to process everything. I'll- I'll come to you when I'm ready."

David's barely given you a nod before you're shutting the door in his face. You deadbolt it and turn to walk further into your apartment, your resolve completely vanishing the further away from the door you get. You make it to the bathroom, hands trembling as you grab onto the sink, and when you glance at your reflection in the mirror you blanch and make a beeline for the toilet.

The splatter and smears of red on your face and neck is enough to make the contents of your stomach make a reappearance, and you spew it all into the toilet. Flashes of David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul and their demonic looking features pop into your mind one right after the other, and you heave one heart wrenching sob after the other.

You don't know how long you spend in the bathroom, but by the time you leave it after having climbed into the hottest shower you could manage, your throat feels raw and eyes puffy. You take your time getting dressed in a set of pajamas and then fall into bed with a tired sigh. No matter how much you wanted to drift off into sleep and forget everything that's happened, you knew it'd all make an appearance in your dreams for weeks to come.

For the next few days all you do is sleep, work, research, eat, and shower. Staying away from the boardwalk was probably the easiest and hardest thing you ever had to do, but being alone gave you time to think about all that you've seen and all that you've read up on. You had managed to watch the evening local news for any reports of missing individuals, but were unsurprised when none were reported. After all, surf-nazi's were riff raff and the authority didn't seem to care about them.

Sleep was hard to come by because the more research you did, the more it made you paranoid. You became jumpy, were constantly nodding off when you were supposed to be working, lied to your co-workers when they asked if anything was going on, and by the end of week one your boss had had enough. So after such a long week, you're more than content to stay in and wait on the Chinese food being delivered to your house.

Several boxes are scattered around your living room, filled with articles of clothing and various other items you don't mind parting with so you can sell for some cash.

A knock sounds from the front door and you get up from the floor to go answer it. You grab some cash along the way and readily pull open the door with a polite smile. It completely vanishes, however, when you're met with Dwayne who's holding up your takeout almost as if it were a peace offering. "Um. Hi?"

He flashes a faint smile. "Hey, Y/N."

The sound of his voice makes your heart beat double, but surprisingly not out of fear. You're actually surprised and really happy to see him, even if he looks so unsure of his presence. So you fight off a smile and keep your tone neutral. "Dwayne, what are you doing here?"

"We're all worried. And we miss you. The boys don't know I'm here, so don't be mad at them."

"I.. I'm not." You gulp and finally grin at him. Sighing, you step aside and gesture him inside. "Come in. You don't have to stand in the hallway." Dwayne hesitantly steps in and you shut the door behind him. You pocket your cash, knowing he won't take it from you, and lead the way into the kitchen. "I hope you're hungry. I'm not gonna eat while you sit there and stare at me."

There's a huff of laughter behind you, but the following question asked is not one you're expecting. "You're moving?"

When you turn towards Dwayne, you see his expression is now completely closed off. Following his gaze to the various packed boxes, you shake your head. "Oh. Uhh, no. I was let go from my job, so I plan to sell some things. I have enough saved up to pay the bills for a couple of months, but if I don't find anything by the time that cash runs out then I could use whatever I make by selling my stuff."

The relief pouring off of him is obvious the moment he realizes you're telling the truth. He sets the bags of food down on the kitchen table and immediately sets out to distributing the food equally while you grab some drinks. Then seated next to you, Dwayne says, "Sooo, what now?"

Using a plastic fork two twirl some noodles on it, you shrug. "I'm not sure. I'm obviously not running for the hills, but I'm not sure of my welcome back into the group after being silent for so long."

"Well David is angry," he says. Your eyes dart to meet his gaze, hurt settling in your expression, but he's quick to soothe you. "He's not mad at you. Not really. He's more angry at the fact that you found out about us the way you did. He wanted to ease you into it. We all did."

You snort. "Yeah. Because finding out you're all murderous creatures of the night is something you can ease someone into." You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

"Marko is more hurt than anything. He thought you really liked us enough to be able to handle the monsters we are and Paul- Paul is doing his best to be indifferent about it all. But if I'm being honest, he's in the same boat with Marko. They're both lovesick idiots."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

You gulp. "How are you feeling about.. everything?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Dwayne flashes you a smile and something in your chest eases. You grin and finally take your first bite of food. "After everything was made official between us, I saw something in you. I knew our secret would freak you out, but deep down I also knew you'd come around."

"You were that confident, huh?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough."

The next few minutes passed in relative quiet, you eating and glaring every time you caught Dwayne staring. He'd smile at your glare and then take a bite of an eggroll so you wouldn't tell him anything or banish him from the kitchen while you were still in there. But eventually you finish and pack away anything left over for a midnight snack.

Then heading towards the sofa in the living room, you curl up on one end while Dwayne takes his spot on the other end. "If I ask you some questions, will you answer them honestly?"

"I can do my best."

"That's fine." Slowly stretching your legs out, you hesitantly tuck your toes under Dwayne's thigh and smile when his cold fingers dance along your ankle before wrapping around your calf. "So I think my main question is, is what exactly are you? I tried to do some research based on your features I saw that night, but I narrowed it down to two species."

"Which are?"

"Demon or vampire. The teeth, the eyes, the.." you pause and gulp, nose wrinkling, "choice of food. I guess it can pass for both, so.."

"Vampire." You immediately tense, but the moment passes and you exhale as you relax back in your seat. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Can I see-" Before you can even finish your question, Dwayne was already shaking his head. "What? Come on! I've already seen you at your worst. Well not you, but the others. Just.. show me."

"Why?"

"Because my apartment is nice and lit, and I can actually look at you in the face now rather than looking elsewhere."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Dwayne hesitates but eventually angles his body towards you. You sit up a little straighter, pulling your legs back towards you and curling them beneath you. He closes his eyes after taking a large lungful of air and you watch in fascination as his features seem to ripple right before your very eyes.

Quietly gasping, you find yourself leaning towards him. There are a few telltale differences, but the most prominent are his now slightly protruding cheekbones and brow line, and the yellow and red eyes when his eyelids fly open at the faintest touch of your thumb against his bottom lip. He seems to cease breathing all together when your thumb pulls down his lip and you huff a laugh of disbelief at the sight of his fangs.

"You still you?"

Dwayne takes a moment to answer. "For the most part."

"Can I try something?"

He hesitates in answering again, but his resolve crumbles when he notices your gaze stays locked on his mouth. Eventually he nods and you scoot in even closer until you're placing one knee on either side of his hips and your hands settle on either side of his neck with your thumbs just under his jaw.

Dwayne sharply inhales as you settle in his lap, his hands now lightly holding onto your waist. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing if I'm really capable of having non-human boyfriends." Slowly leaning in, you're very mindful of his fangs when you press your lips against his. Feeling the coolness of them makes you smile and you can't help the urge to run the tip of your tongue against one. But in doing so, it seems to snap any restraint Dwayne had.

You squeak when you suddenly find yourself on your back on the couch. Your legs have subconsciously wrapped around his waist, your hands on his chest beneath his jacket as he hovers over you, panting heavily. His eyes are back to their normal brown, but his other features are still on display even as he does his best to make them go away.

"Should I take this as a compliment?" You ask, nails lightly scratching at Dwayne's chest as he groans. "Do you have a fang-on for me?"

"You're making this incredibly hard for me, sweetheart."

"Ooh. I would hope so." You thrust your hips upward and smile as Dwayne finally laughs.

With one hand by your head to hold his weight just inches above you, his other hand is on your waist beneath your shirt as he runs his fingers up and down your skin. He turns his face so it's half hidden by his shoulder and hair, and when he faces you again all his vampiric features are gone. He lazily smiles at you, but his expression softens. "Are you sure about this? About us?"

You sheepishly nod. "I mean I can't guarantee I'll be super chill when you guys.. grab a bite to eat," you say, nose wrinkling, "but I can try. We'll probably have to come up with a system so I'm not with you guys when you do so."

"Being with us won't be easy. We're never-changing, Y/N. You'll eventually need to be too."

It takes a second for his words to sink in and when they do you momentarily stop breathing. You open your mouth to retort, but snap it shut a moment later and frown. You sigh when Dwayne starts to retreat and the both of you sit side by side. "I- I know. Okay? It's just a lot to take in right now."

"David won't want you to take too long."

"Of course he won't." Falling silent, you reach for Dwayne's hand and lock your fingers together. Then laying your cheek against his shoulder, you say, "I guess it's a good thing I lost my job then, huh? Cutting ties won't be so hard now."

"I'm sorry we dragged you into this."

You huff. "Are you?"

A moment passes and then, "No." You laugh and tilt your head so you can see Dwayne's face. "You had David hooked the second you smiled at him. The rest of us were obviously intrigued, but it was David who made it known that your friends were off limits because he wanted you."

You immediately sit up, eyes wide. "Wait. Were you guys going to eat my friends?!" Dwayne has the audacity to look nervous and you can't help but snort. "Seriously?"

He shrugs. "How else do you think we get our meals? But you were a loose end. You knew they were with us and it'd have been suspicious. They were lucky that we saw you though. Your presence saved them."

You shake your head in amused disbelief, chuckling softly. Slowly, but surely you end up leaning against his side once more. "I have a lot of apologizing to do, don't I?"

"Maybe not. The boys might appear angry at you, but believe me when I say they're not. I think they'll be happy if you show up."

"Tomorrow then? I'll meet you guys at the boardwalk."

"Okay."

Getting ready for the boardwalk the following night is a lot more nerve wracking than you thought it'd be. According to Dwayne, no apologies were needed because he understood that a secret such as theirs was mind blowing. But he only spoke for himself and you had no idea how welcomed you'd be with the other three. So dressing to impress, you cut up a black shirt that David left behind weeks ago. You cut it into an off the shoulder crop top and pull on a jean skirt you had hidden in one of your drawers. Next are some ankle boots that had been a recent purchase and you tease your hair a little to give it a messy look.

When you figure you've wasted enough time, you decide to just bite the bullet and go. The drive to the boardwalk is short but tense, and you feel like you're going to be sick the second you're standing outside your car and locking up. So after taking a few deep breaths, you pocket your keys and head for the boardwalk stairs.

You try not to wrap your arms over your stomach or chest, so you hook your thumbs into the back pockets of your skirt. You keep your head held high, ignoring the suggestive comments, and then almost chicken out the moment you spot your four boys. Dwayne is the only one who's actively scanning the crowd, so he's the only one to spot you. He grins and you narrow your eyes, and then one by one the others take notice.

Paul and Marko immediately cease their antics upon sighting you, and David's expression closes off as he smokes his cigarette. You stop just a few feet in front of them, nervously shifting from foot to foot under their stares. "So, um, I came here with every intention of apologizing, but on the drive here I realized I have nothing to apologize for."

David's icy gaze subtly narrows. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" You snap your mouth shut, gulping, and then take a step closer so you don't have to talk as loud. "I know I asked for time and space, but two or three days would have sufficed."

"If that was the case, then why didn't you come seek us out?"

David poses a pretty good question, but you shrug it off. "I had such a shit week that I didn't even think about it. It wasn't until Dwayne showed up last night that we talked about everything and I realized some things."

Marko leans forward. "What things?"

When your gaze darts to the curly haired blonde, you smile softly at him. "That if you guys are still interested, then I'm all in." The words have barely left your mouth before there's a vampire wrapped around you. You laugh, your hands grasping onto the sides of Paul's jacket to steady yourself. With his face shoved into the side of your neck, you maneuver the both of you so you can turn to stare at David while still holding onto the clingy blonde. "So what do you say? Are we okay?"

David stares you up and down, taking a moment to gather his wits and make sure you're not lying to him. "Just like that?"

"Um, yeah? I'd like a week or so to get some stuff in order, but I- I like you guys too much to just walk away."

Paul pulls away then, his hands grasping the sides of your face as he presses his lips to yours. You let him control the kiss, parting your lips just so, so his tongue can seek out yours. However, he gets a little too enthusiastic and bites down on your bottom lip with blunt teeth, and you groan just loud enough for him to pull back and let you collect yourself.

When your eyelids finally flutter open, you find that all four boys are looking a little smug at your reaction. So in order to knock one of them down a peg or two, you smile sweetly up at Paul. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, babe."

"Do all vampires get hard when their fangs are licked or is that just Dwayne?"

Paul blinks at you in astonishment before letting you go to turn around and it's your turn to smirk. Dwayne is no longer amused, and Marko and David are not doing anything to hide the fact that their amusement is now directed at their brother.

The brunette frowns at you. "I hate you."

"You almost nailing me on my couch last night says otherwise."

Paul and Marko finally lose their composure, and you smile as the two boys have to lean on each other as they laugh. And though they're making fun of him, Dwayne finds himself fighting off a smile at how happy you seem to be. As the two of them pick on their brother, you look back towards David and step into his personal space.

The two of you stare at one another and the way he's looking at you, you feel the urge to apologize even though you said you wouldn't. But before you can utter a word, he's asking, "What happened that your week was so shit?"

You huff a quiet laugh. "I lost my job. I have some money saved for a few more month's rent, but I seem to recall an offer to move into the cave not too long ago."

David's lips twitch. "And if you really are all in, then having the apartment isn't necessary."

"It's really not."

In a move that normally goes against David's nature, he pushes off the railing and closes the distance between the two of you to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. You smile against him before he pulls back, his gaze darting between both your eyes. "Let's go for a ride. This is cause for a celebration."

Paul and Marko whoop in excitement, the both of them kissing either of your cheeks before they clamber onto their bikes. Dwayne has to walk behind you to get to his and when he does he leans down to nip your ear. You squeak and he wolfishly smiles at you, and you find your knees trembling in excitement for what later may hold.

It's no question as to whose bike you're climbing on the back of, but you do hesitate at David's side. When you take too long to climb on, he stares at you questioningly. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh, I didn't think this all the way through." You gesture to your skirt and groan when he starts to smile. "No one's going to offer their jacket, are they?"

"Nope."

"I figured." Sighing, you glance around before grabbing the sides of your skirt and inching it up your thighs so you can comfortably sit behind David. Paul whistles and you glare at him over your shoulder before climbing onto David's bike. Once you're settled and you realize no one is moving, you frown until you see Paul and Marko hungrily staring at one spot and one spot only. You follow their gaze and glance down, and realize your panties are on display with the way you're sitting. "Stop," you whine, practically plastering yourself to David's back in hopes of blocking their view.

Marko laughs. "It's nothing we haven't seen before."

"Yeah, but.. the staring. It's weird."

"Sweetheart, your whole life is about to become ten times more weird. Best get used to it." With that, David's bike roars to life, followed by the other three.

The ride to the cave makes something in your chest ease, and you find yourself letting your head fall back and letting the wind carry away your gleeful screams. David drives a little more recklessly than usual, but you know he won't do anything that will truly harm you. But all too soon you're arriving at Hudson's Bluff and are hurriedly climbing off of David's bike so you don't accidentally flash anyone.

"So what exactly did Dwayne tell you about us?" Marko wonders.

"I didn't really ask questions other than the main one," you say. "I know you guys are vampires and I'm assuming some of the folklore is true considering I've never seen any of you during the day, but I figured you'd tell me what I needed to know when I needed to know it."

"So you don't know all that we can do?"

You gulp under their suddenly amused expressions and take a step back. "No..?"

"Oh babe, you're in for a treat." Suddenly Paul is in front of you, arms wrapped low around your waist and clutching you tightly to his front. "Hang tight."

You're grinning at him until you feel the ground beneath your feet vanish and then your eyes widen. You glance down and your arms immediately wrap around Paul's neck. "You assholes can fly!?" All the boys laugh and then Paul starts to hover higher and higher. "W-Wait. Paul, don't!"

But your words fall on deaf ears and the next thing you know the wind is rushing by you. You shove your face into the side of Paul's neck and your legs wrap around his waist. Paul's laughing and you're laughing, but it's mostly to cover up your fear. And though you can't see anything, you can feel when Paul turns or dips in a dangerous maneuver to get you to scream.

But when he doesn't get the reaction he was hoping for, Paul eventually comes to a stop mid-air. "Look, Y/N." You shake your head. "Come on, babe. Open your eyes."

"I- I can't. I'm not normally afraid of heights, but there's just something about being so high and not being buckled in properly to anything that's really kind of terrifying."

"Is that why you're close to pissing your skirt?"

"Not funny, Paul!"

His hands smooth down your bottom, sliding lower until he's cupping the back of your thighs. "Come on. I promise I will never let you fall. At least not until you're one of us."

You huff a laugh and pinch the back of his neck. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

"Yeah. I guess you are." Slowly, but surely, you lift your head. Your arms tighten once more around his neck when you realize just how high up you are and you allow yourself to look around. "Oh." Twinkling stars and low clouds are all you can see for miles, but when Paul tells you to look in one direction you can see the boardwalk all lit up off in the distance.

"See? I'm not a total jerk."

"No, you're not." Looking at Paul now, you let your forehead rest against his and smile faintly at him. "You're probably my favorite out of the four, but after this little stunt you are not teaching me how to fly when it's my turn."

He laughs and chastely kisses you "I'll take it. Now be prepared. I'm flying us back into the cave."

You shove your face back into Paul's neck, but move just so, so you can actually see your surroundings fly past you. However, your eyes clamp shut when you see Paul enter the cave entrance and they only open when you feel yourself being dropped onto cushions. Opening your eyes, you realize you're in your nest.

You smile. "You kept it. I for sure thought you might have gotten rid of it."

"Dwayne wouldn't let us," Paul says and then guiltily cringes. "I'll admit I thought about tearing it all down, but Dwayne took to protecting it."

Your smile falters. "Well I guess I deserve that."

The boys go quiet and you awkwardly glance around at everyone. Eventually David gestures to the couches. "Come eat. While Paul was off terrifying you, Marko got some food."

As David takes his usual seat on the wheelchair, Dwayne leads you towards the couch where he immediately sits down next to you. Paul plops down on a crate and Marko distributes Chinese takeout containers.

"Chow time," Marko smirks. "Eat up, girl."

You and Paul are the only two to enthusiastically dig in, and you only become suspicious when Marko can't stop staring at you with his amused little smile. You're grateful there's nothing in your mouth because the second the words how are those worms, Y/N leave David's mouth, you lower the container into your lap and refuse to look into it. You do, however, feel the container slightly moving in your hand as if something inside was.. wiggling.

"David," you say through clenched teeth, "if I look down and there's anything other than noodles in my container, I'm going to douse you in holy water. Don't ruin Chinese noodles for me. You know they're my favorite." Marko and Dwayne both laugh, and when you finally chance a look downward you're relieved to see no worms. You sigh in relief. "Let me guess, vampires can mess with the mind?"

"More or less, but only humans."

"Duly noted."

David goes on to explain some things as you finish up eating and you find out that holy water, garlic, and the lack of a reflection in a mirror could be overcome in a private home should they be invited inside. That was good to know, especially the tidbit about the sunlight and the various way a vampire could die after being staked.

Paul puts some music on, and he and Dwayne take turns dancing with you. You end up spooking a few of Marko's pigeons, but make it up to him by kissing his pout away.

Later, you're not sure how much time has passed, you find yourself falling into David's lap. You're breathing heavy as you try to catch your breath and are even a little sweaty, but David doesn't seem to have a problem with it as he brushes the tip of his nose from your jawline to your neck.

You giggle. "Is this another one of your vampire things? I now realize you guys sniffed me a lot, particularly around my neck."

"You smell good," he says before moving upward and placing a light kiss under your ear.

"My blood?"

"Yes and no." David leans back so you're now face to face. "The scent of your blood is appealing, but there's another scent that's just.. you. I don't know how else to explain it, but you'll be able to smell us when you're turned."

"You mean you don't smell like decaying bodies?" You grin to let him know it's not really a serious question, that you're only teasing, but David still snaps his teeth at you in false admonishment. You squeak and then laugh, kissing his cheek in apology. "I'm only joking." As you settle down so your head is resting on his shoulder, you find yourself saying, "Now I'm curious as to what you boys smell like. You better not stink."

"If you're so curious, why not become half? You'll be able to pick up our scents, but you'll still be operating as if you're human until you feed from a human for the first time."

His words give you pause and you quickly sit up, blinking at him. "Half? What do you mean I can be a half?"

"Half vampire," he shrugs. You frown and David grins when you startle at Marko's sudden appearance behind him, a bejeweled wine bottle in hand. Only then do you realize the music has stopped and the only sound in the cave is the occasional cooing of a pigeon. "You take a drink of this," David says while grabbing the bottle from Marko and uncorking it, "and you become a halfling. You'll still be able to do what you need to do during the day, the only downfall being your eyes will become sensitive and you'll find yourself wanting to sleep the day away until the sun sets. You can power through it though."

You can't take your eyes off the bottle and you find yourself reaching for it, bringing the bottle up to your nose to sniff the contents. It smells fruity, almost, and just underneath that is a hint of copper. "So what," you gulp, "a swig of this and I'm a half vampire? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Looking up and around, Dwayne and Paul have stepped closer to see what you're going to do. Everyone has neutral expressions and you realize you're suddenly anxious to join them sooner rather than later. "Are you sure you guys want me? If I become one of you, I have nothing and no one to turn to should you find yourself bored of me."

"Don't get insecure on us now, sweetheart," Paul muses. "If we weren't sure of you, David wouldn't have offered."

"Sleep all day, party all night," David says. "Never grow old, Y/N. Join us."

Sleep all day, party all night. If only. 

Your words, which felt like they were uttered so long ago, bring you some comfort. It reminds you that you once wanted what they had even if you didn't exactly know what that was at the time. So now- now you find yourself almost anxious for what the future will bring now that you're so close to having what they have.

Slowly smiling, you huff a laugh and then with a faint roll of your eyes you bring the bottle up to your lips. "What the hell. Bottoms up."

The second the too warm liquid hits your tongue, your eyes flutter shut and the boys cheer all around you.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #david #dwayne #marko #paul

[midnightsnyx]

Matthew Tkachuk -Consequences Outtakes: The Proposal

a/n: i thought i would do a few “outtakes” from Consequences and this is the first one i thought about!! i have a few other planned so let me know if you guys want me to post them 🥰 i listened to Blake Shelton & Gwen Stefani’s songs Nobody But You and Happy Anywhere while writing this so go listen while reading it ❤ 

also thank you to @notanotherhockeyblog95 for pre-reading this for me <3

Consequences Masterpost

Outtake: The Proposal

Matt was planning something.

You knew this because after being with him for four years, you knew him inside and out. So you knew he was acting strange. Strange enough that Henry noticed the way his father was acting.

“What’s Dada doing?” Henry asks, watching his father literally tip toe to the coat rack and slowly put on his jacket as if doing it slowly makes him invisible.

“Being a fool.” You replied, rolling your eyes as you watched him quietly leave the house. You turn your attention back to the toddler sitting in front of you who is looking more and more like his father every day. Hair curly and out of control and eyes the same color blue, he looks exactly like the mini Matthew you were expecting.

“What’s a fool?” Henry asks.

“It’s a silly person.” You tell him, tickling his sides and laughing when he squeals and jumps on you wrapping his arms around your neck and snuggling into you. You treasure these small moments you have with Henry because with the new baby due any day now, your little family of three will become four. 

And you can’t wait.

. . . 

“Can I take you out tonight?” Matt asks while you’re eating dinner a few days later. 

“Date night isn’t until Thursday.” You remind him, because there’s no way you can get a sitter on such short notice. 

“Noah said he would watch Henry.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “I’m not trusting Hanifin to babysit our child. Do you not remember what happened last time?”

He winces and you know he’s thinking back to the walls covered in permanent marker and the flood in the bathroom. 

“Becca said she would come over too.” 

The short notice and secrecy is strange and it bothers you a little but you shrug and agree.

“Sure.” 

His face lights up and he nods, shovelling the rest of his food in his mouth as if he was raised by wolves. 

Chantal would be very disappointed.

After you finish dinner, Matt rushes you to get ready, telling you that he will clean up the dishes and start getting Henry ready for bedtime. 

When Becca and Noah show up, Matt leads you out to his car and opens the door for you like the true gentleman he’s turned into. You find things that make you fall in love with him even more every single day. 

“Can you tell me where we’re going, or is it a surprise again?” You ask, smiling when he grins.

“When have I ever not surprised you when it comes to date night?”

“Fair point.” You say, looking out the window and trying to figure out where he might be taking you. It’s about twenty minutes when you arrive at the destination and it takes a minute before you realize where you are.

“This is the building that the Flames organization uses for charity events.” You say and look at the building which has all lights turned off and looks completely deserted. 

“It’s also where I met you.” He says, and you turn to look at him. He has a soft smile on his face and you tilt your head in question but he just shakes his head. “We’re not staying.” 

He pulls out of the parking lot and starts to drive farther into the city until you reach an apartment complex. It takes you a moment before you realize it’s his old apartment building.

“Planning on moving back here?” You joke and he laughs but shakes his head. 

“This is where you told me I was going to be a father.” He says quietly and you hum. 

“I was terrified when I was on my way to go tell you.” You say, looking back at the building. “I seriously considered turning around and going back home about ten times.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He jokes but there’s sincerity in his voice too. You turn to look at him again and he’s staring at the building too. When he realizes you’re looking at him again, he grins and starts driving again.

You’ve decided by now to not question what his plans are. You know he won’t tell you so you just enjoy the quiet time because it’s not something you have with him often, not with a little toddler running around. 

The next place he brings you is to the clinic you went to when you were pregnant with Henry. You’ve switched since, choosing to go somewhere closer to where the new house is. 

He’s quiet for a moment after he parks and you think back to the good and bad memories of this place. From hearing Henry’s tint fast heartbeat for the first time to the appointment that Matt missed.

“I thought I lost you here.” He says after a couple of minutes. “I knew I messed up and I was convinced you were done with me.”

“You made a mistake.” You say quietly. “We all do. But you made up for it which is what matters.” 

A small smile crosses his face. “I thank my lucky stars every day that you forgave me.” 

You’re not sure what to say so you lean towards him the best you can and press your lips to his cheek.

“How could I not?”

He just smiles and kisses you before pulling out of the parking lot and down the street to a McDonald’s. 

“We went here after our first ultrasound.” He says even though you already know. “I just remember sitting there thinking how beautiful you were.” 

“Sap.” You mutter but you can’t stop the blush that warms your cheeks. “I’m starting to think this is a trip down memory lane. Where to next?” 

He grins and about fifteen minutes later, you find yourself sitting in the parking lot of the hospital where you gave birth to Henry. 

“This is where we became a family.” He says softly and your eyes start to water. “It’s where I realized I was in love with you.” 

Matt’s told you he loves you more times than you can count but each time you hear it, it makes your heart race and butterflies go crazy in your stomach. It’s a feeling you hope you never lose.

“One more stop.” He murmurs. 

You recognize where you are going now, he’s taking you home. While going for the drive with him was nice, you’ll admit that you’re a little disappointed he didn’t have more planned. Henry will be asleep by the time you get home so you’ll have some alone time at least. 

When you get home, Becca and Noah are quick to leave which leaves you a little confused because they would typically stick around a little longer. You miss the look they both give Matt because you suddenly notice that the backyard is lit up. The steps you take towards the back door and outside are tiny as you realize what’s happening.

There are lights strung along the white fence lighting up the backyard and flower petals are sprinkled on the grass. You know that Becca and Noah must have set this up while you were gone which explains why Matt brought you for a drive.

“Y/N.” 

You slowly turn around when you hear Matt say your name softly and your eyes instantly fill with tears when you see him kneeling on one knee, grinning like he’s gotten away with the world's biggest surprise and really, he has. 

A simple looking box holding the most beautiful engagement ring is sitting in his hand. 

He clears his throat as you walk towards him and you can see how nervous he is but his smile never wavers. 

“I know we didn’t really do things traditionally but I don’t care because no matter how it happened, it led me to you. It led me to this moment right now. I love you and Henry more than anything in this world and I would love nothing more than to be able to call you my wife.” He takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it gently. “So will you marry me?” 

You know you’ll cry if you try to speak so you just nod, letting him take the ring out of the box and slip it on to your finger where it will stay for the rest of your life. 

#matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk imagine #Matthew Tkachuk #consequences series #allies writing #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction

[dw-writes]

Would you do 31 with Billy Buthcher please? Thank you, and I hope you feel better!! Sending an internet hug ♡♡

(bangs pots and pans together GOD BLESS THIS ASK FUCK ALSO THIS ENDED UP VERY VERY LONG AND IM ONLY KINDA SORRY FOR THAT

fuck i hope this is okay)

In awe, the first time you realised it

The first time you had told Billy that you loved him, you were more than a little drunk and hanging off his shoulder, one hand in his hair and the other stretching out for Becca, who he was delivering you to. “Becs,” you said with a sly smile, wrapping your arms around your best friend’s neck for support and affection. She wrapped her arms firmly around your back and rocked you from side to side, earning a giggle. “I? I love your husband.” You widened your eyes as you said, “Soooooo much.”

“Oh, you do?” she asked, shaking her head with a sigh of your name. “You are trashed.”

“Yes,” you said, though you didn’t say what you were agreeing to. You leaned against her shoulder and turned to Billy, who was already calling a cab for the three of you with an amused grin. “He’s so sweet? And smart? And that accent.” You lifted a hand give her a thumbs up and almost fell over.

Becca held onto you with a laugh and slightly inebriated sway of her own. “Oh, shi—Billy, help, we’re gonna fall!”

The second time had been when Rebecca was missing, and Billy was spiraling, pacing their – his – apartment with scowl on his face and a bottle of bourbon in his hands. He swore and hurled the bottle at an empty wall. It smashed upon impact, a sound that made you jump and grip your glass of water a little tighter. You set it down and stepped gingerly over the shards on the ground, making your way to the man who now leaned back against the couch, his hands buried in his hair. You pulled them away and looped your arms around his shoulders. His arms fell low around your hips and he squeezed you against him, burying his face into your shoulder as he started to tremble.

“We’re gonna find her,” you mumbled against his hair. His hold on you tightened. You pressed a kiss against his scalp and squished your cheek against his head. “We will,” you whispered. You gently pushed your fingers through his hair and sighed. You kissed his head again and murmured, “Love you, B,” when earned you a hum and a squeeze that made your back pop. You eased your hands down his arms and coaxed him into letting you go. “Let’s get that glass cleaned up and open another bottle. Okay?” He nodded. “Okay.”

The third time you said that you loved Billy was when you sat around a bonfire with Billy and Frenchie and M.M. and Mallory. You nursed a beer, one that you couldn’t even stand the taste of, and found yourself laughing at a story that Frenchie shared. He stumbled over his words, his tongue tied by alcohol, and swore and stomped as he finished with a large wave of his hands.

“I think that means we should call it a night,” M.M. said with a groan, pushing himself up from his camp chair. “I gotta make sure Janine gets to bed. Read to her. You know.”

“Oh, yes, you gotta tuck the tike, make sure she doesn’t roll away in the night,” Billy mumbled. You kicked his boot, which earned you a grin.

M.M. drained his beer and tossed the glass next to the fire, then said, “You know man, one of these days, you’ll have something you love that and it’ll me tellin’ you shit like that.”

Billy clicked his tongue and flung the beer in his hand half-heartedly at his friend, missing the larger M.M. by a mile and sending you in a fit of laughter. You reached up and swatted M.M.’s arm with a grin. “I love him enough for two people, M&Ms, so don’t you worry.”

Billy scoffed and muttered a dark, “Fuck off,” as a smile worked its way across his face. He suddenly frowned and sat up. “Oi, why does he get some cutesy fuck nickname?”

M.M. leaned down and cupped your face between his hands to plant a loud kiss against your forehead. “Because I’m nice as shit and you’re a fuckin’ asshole, Butcher,” he replied.

Frenchie finally – finally – started to laugh after devolving into a fit of silent giggles early into the conversation. You grinned and drew your feet onto the camping chair, shooting a look a Mallory, who just drank from her tin cup and shook her head. “Last time I tried giving you a nickname, you weren’t happy with it.”

“Billiam is not a nickname!” Billy shouted. Frenchie’s laughter pitched higher and his chair tipped backwards into the dry grass and the leaves. “Fuck off!” he snapped.

You started to laugh. You stood and held out a hand to Billy, wiggling your fingers until he finally took your hand and you hauled him out of his seat. You were a little hesitant to let go, finding the warmth of his palm much more comforting than the cold of the autumn night. You scratched your temple and turned to Mallory. “Do you need help cleaning this up?” you asked.

She waved her hands. “The kids’ll come down when they get home,” she murmured, “Wanna roast marshmallows.” She jerked her head towards Frenchie. “Take him with you, though.”

Billy was already following M.M.’s fading form when you finally got Frenchie to his feet.

You thought about those times as you collapsed onto the couch in the hideout, kicking your feet up onto Billy’s lap with a groan. Hughie sat at the opposite end, his head bowed towards Annie, who sat between his legs on the floor. Billy dropped his arm over your legs and tugged them close, until his fingers traced a pattern against the side of your knee. Annie looked back over her shoulder with a bright smile, and Hughie pulled his fingers through her hair as she returned her attention to the movie playing on the television. You leaned your cheek on your fist and looked over the back of the couch to take in the hideout. Kimiko and Frenchie spoke softly, their heads close together as they leaned over the stove in the small kitchen. M.M. held the phone to his ear and was smiling, turning away when you caught his eye so you couldn’t read his lips.

Billy whispered your name to regain your attention. You looked up with a soft hum, dropping your fist the short distance to his hair. His eyes narrowed just a bit, his mouth turning down in a small frown, little things that had him asking if you were okay. Your fingers brushed the hair from his forehead and lingered at his temple. The longer you stared, the louder your heart started to pound in your ears. His frowned deepened and he repeated your name a little louder, a little more concerned. He squeezed your knee.

You curled your fingers away from his temple and said in a voice so fragile and small you thought it didn’t exist at all, “I just realized something.”

“What’s that, love?” he murmured back.

You tucked your arms against your chest and sank into the couch, into his side, staring at nothing, at him, at everything, and replied, “That I love you.”

He arched an eyebrow and tilted his head towards yours. “Oh, is that all?” he teased. You shoved your knee against his chest and rolled your eyes. His hand dropped into your lap, his fingers upturned, and he stretched them up into your sweaty palm. Without a word, he settled back into the cushions, gently pushing his fingers between yours.

You smiled. That was all you needed to hear.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher/reader #billy butcher imagines #the boys #the boys asks #gifs #toss a queue to your witcher

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {8}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Tiny Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes, Small Time Jumps

Words: 6.6k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

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Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

-Henry-

The minute he woke the next day and the alcohol had worn off; he instantly regretted his actions. His head was pounding and his nose stuffy, which was always what the morning after a drinking fest looked and felt like for him. the pain in his head made him painfully aware of everything he’d said to you. More than half of him wished he would have just held his peace and moved on, but the other side of him—the stubborn bull side felt nothing but satisfaction from what he’d done. It was time, especially seeing that you completely had the wrong idea about who he was and his character. He couldn’t help but wonder what you thought about your conversation, but instead of dwelling on it, he decided to push it to the side and do the logical thing. Move on.

 It was now five days since that conversation, and though it felt strange the first couple of days to not send you a message when you ran across his mind, he did it and adapted. He now was throwing himself into work because there wasn’t a shortage of it. Most days, he was in pre-production for Witcher two, and that in itself was a lot of work. Production decided to kick fight choreography up a notch because last season wasn’t badass enough. The choreography this season was definitely taking it up several notches, and it meant more long hours of training and even more potential for him to be hurt.

By week two post convo, he was steadily counting down to his vacation time. Training was kicking his ass, and the more and more days that passed, the more he thought of you. That wasn’t all though, the more the way he thought of you changed. In the beginning, he thought he was infatuated or possibly obsessed. When he was around you, he always felt as if he wasn’t in control. He felt like there were forces that were controlling your interactions and pulling a starry blanket over his feelings. He expected this time away to act as a purge, but it hadn’t, not in the way he’d anticipated.

 “Come on, her name is Becca, and she’s super cute,” Alisha said.

 “Why is it that all my brother’s wives want to set me up?”

 “Because we care. You’re too great of a guy to be alone,” Halley complimented.

 They all nodded, and his eldest brother painfully squeezed his cheek.

 “Plus, look at this face,” Nik teased, making all of them elate.

 It had been like this since they were kids. Nothing had changed.

 “I’m perfectly fine being alone,” he answered.

 “Doesn’t mean you should be,” Amee piped out.

 No matter what, he said it wouldn’t be good enough until he gave them what they wanted. He had no intention of doing it, though. He wasn’t sure if it was really his loathing of being set up or because he didn’t want to pretend to want anyone else. Whatever it was, it had him declining to their annoyance. He could stick it out for the next two weeks until he got out of London.

  -Aliya-

“You fucked up, plain and simple,” Amaya blurted out as she flipped through a magazine.

 You rolled your eyes and tried to continue writing notes to the song you’d just wrote. As sure as you were that it was pitch black outside, you knew she wasn’t done—not by a long shot. A minute passed in silence, but as projected, Amaya began again.

 “Just explain to me why you don’t want to be happy.” Amaya tossed the magazine aside, giving you her full attention. Still, you ignored her and kept your eyes glued to the note pad.

 “Liya, come on. At some point in your life, you’re going to have to be honest with yourself.”

 She was right. For the last few weeks, you’d spent a lot of sleepless nights doing just that. Since Henry’s call, you’d been forced to look at your situation in a light you’d ignored. It wasn’t that you were doing it maliciously. It was just easier and neater to see the worst in every situation hence the worst in people. You’d been the girl who dug deep for the best in people and only focused on that and their potential for too long. It made more sense from a survivalist standpoint to be different.

 You’d went back and forth and round and round your situation, and perhaps you were too quick to jump to conclusions. The bottom line was the things he said had affected you, more than you liked and more than you could ignore. A few days after his call, you saw his picture in The Sun. He wasn’t alone. It looked like he’d had a long night of partying. You deduced it was probably the same night he called you. Though he was obviously drunk, he still looked so damn good. In the last few weeks, you’d thought about him a lot. On several occasions, you’d taken up your phone for the sole purpose to stalk his Instagram or even scroll through your gallery to gawk at his pictures. Never though, did you attempt to call.

 The main reason was that you hated being the one in the wrong. You hated feeling like the asshole and what was worse was that you also hated apologizing. So, you bit your tongue, pushed your thoughts and emotions aside, and just hoped time would make it all fade. It didn’t.

 “Aliya!”

 Closing your notepad, you stood. “We’re going to miss the flight.”

 “Whatever! It’s a private jet. It’s your private jet.”

 You were already out of the room, which meant thankfully, you didn’t have to see her face. The drive to the private airfield was about forty-five minutes. For the entire ride, you could feel Amaya’s annoyance with you. she didn’t say one word. Instead, she kept her nose buried in her phone scrolling her life away. It was okay with you; you had plenty of work to do. Plus, you knew this wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

 Sure enough, twenty minutes into the flight to London, she was back at it. The difference between Amaya and Alicia was simple. Where Alicia liked to leave me be until she knew the perfect time to go in because she knew the perfect time would come when you would be more receptive to it, Amaya preferred to go in all the time. She was always on one hundred. You loved both your best friends dearly, and they both spoke to different sides of you, but sometimes you wished they were wrong a lot more often than they were right.

 When you got pulled into a phone meeting, you were grateful and even more so when it lasted for almost two hours. By the time you ended the call, Amaya was napping. Though you thought the silence was what you wanted, it was a blessing in disguise. It meant you now had peace and quiet to think, and your thoughts more often than not went right to Henry.

 When you landed in London and checked into the hotel, it was after midnight. Once you’d taken a shower and answered a few emails, you popped two sleep aids in hopes they would knock you out because you needed all your energy tomorrow.

  -The Next Day-

Hectic was an understatement for how your morning and afternoon had been going. One of the great things about being you was that when you got bored with one career avenue, you had three more to distract yourself with. For the last several months, you’d been focusing on your acting career and had been able to complete two films and three guest appearances. In between acting gigs you were also able to do a few modeling events, including Fall and Spring fashion week.

 What had fallen to the wayside was your singing career. It was almost time for you to fulfill your contractual obligations by releasing another album. You’d been focusing on writing new material for the last few weeks, and tonight you were putting on one of the last stops on a mini-tour your team had planned months ago. The travel alone was killing you. You were exhausted, even more than usual. With every show, you felt your body telling you it would soon be time to slow down or stop for a few months. You needed a break.

 “I should have flown in days ago. I hate feeling like this isn’t perfect.”

 “Aliya, it’s fine,” Alicia countered.

 The perfectionist in you didn’t believe her.

 “I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you. You have to go anyway. The show is supposed to start at six; it’s already three.”

 She was right. Though you hated it, you would have to cross your fingers and hope things looked cohesive. After finishing up the last-minute wardrobe adjustments and a quick pep talk with your dancers, you made your way back to the hotel to get in a little bit of pampering before having to get back to the center for prep.

 As you laid on the table and enjoyed your deep tissue massage, you allowed the worries to float away. There was nothing you could do about it now anyway. You were also sure it was perfectly fine, and just your obsessive nature taking over. Tuning everything out, you focused on your meditative breathing. Before you knew it, it was time to get back to the center to get into wardrobe and put on a show worthy of the hundreds that were spent on tickets. You were determined to perform your ass off.

  -Henry-

He couldn’t have gotten out of tonight no matter what. He’d tried. When Charlie announced to everyone that Heather had made plans for their adults' date night, he rolled his eyes. Now that he thought of it, it was around the time that Amee tried to set him up with that woman. This was supposed to be a blind date, and since he’d declined, he was here alone while all his other brothers were snuggling up and whispering to their significant others.

 Here he was an hour and ten minutes into your show, and he’d never had more fluctuating thoughts and feelings. At first, it was surprise; then annoyance, then it transitioned into awe until it moved to arousal and admiration. Now he was stewing deep in all of them, and it was not a good look. Your voice was incredible. He’d always known how talented you were. Your stamina to dance and sing blew his mind. Then when he watched those dance moves closer, it was impossible to keep his thoughts pure. It also didn’t help that the outfits you were wearing only fueled his imagination more.

 “What’s wrong with you? You said you liked Aliya Taylor,” Amee shouted over the music.

 Plastering a smile on his face, he nodded. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m tired.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

 When you came out for the final song in a flowing low cut white gown and barefoot, he staggered backward when he envisioned you walking down a flower aisle.

 “Fucking hell!”

 All eyes snapped to him, and the curious looks on their faces only had him needing air even more.

 “I—I’m gonna get a head start to the cars.”

 Not waiting for a response, he turned and walked through the crowd, not daring to look back at you.

   -Aliya-

Amaya and Alicia laughed together at something on Amaya’s timeline. No doubt it was some picture of one of her boy toys. You sipped from your flower decorated porcelain teacup while staring out over London to the Eye. Just behind it, Big Ben stood tall and proud as it chimes for four o’clock echoed through the city. This was a city you’d spent a lot of time in thanks to your grandparents on your father’s side. Not as much time as they’d like, but there was only so much free time you had. Big Ben and the Eye were two of your favorite things about London.

 You should have been on cloud nine after another successful show and checking another thing off your extensive to-do list, but you weren’t. You felt almost as gloomy as the rolling clouds in the sky that threatened rain.

 “You seem depressed.”

 Alicia’s voice had you turning back to them you softly smiled. “I’m not.”

 “You look it,” Amaya slid home.

 Rolling your eyes, you finished your cup of tea and gently placed it on its matching saucer with a shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you then.”

 Amaya then gasped with a smile in her eyes. “I know what it is. You’re finally missing your grade A prime beef of a man.”

 Snorting, you shook your head. “Oh god. Try again.”

 “You might be right, Mya,” Leece started placed her elbows on the table to peer at you closer. “This all started the night we had dinner with him. What’s his name again?” Both of them pretended to wrack their brains to remember his name, but they knew damn well what it was.

 “Ah, Henry,” Amaya cooed, making you roll your eyes even harder.

 “Both of you stop. You’re not funny.”

 “We approve.”

 “I second that,” Alicia added.

 “What? Really?”

 “Are you kidding? Yeah. Not only is he gorgeous, like drop dead gorgeous, but he is also super nice. Throughout dinner he was very courteous and sincere. You know I’m a good people reader,” Amaya attested.

 “He’s funny, and he seemed to be genuine with his efforts to get to know Mya and me. He also was putting in effort into proving something to you.”

 Sighing, you took a few sips of your water.

 “Honestly, I couldn’t find anything wrong with him.”

 “Really? Perfection?”

 You couldn’t believe your ears. Yes, you’d suspected they liked him, but the perfect word was just uttered. It was never spoken of, not by them.

 “Pretty much,” Amaya doubled down.

 “Wow.”

 “Tell me about it. Move on that before some other chick does. He will not be single for long,” Amaya added.

 For some reason, this was the first time you’d thought about that, and you couldn’t believe it. She was right. He was gorgeous, among other things, and women already fawned over him. He wouldn’t be licking his wounds much longer. A knot formed in your gut, and a sour taste in your mouth followed. Glancing away from their penetrative gazes, you looked around the restaurant and nearly dropped the water glass when you saw Henry across the restaurant laughing. This was the first time you’d seen him in person since your breakfast in New York weeks and weeks ago, and he looked great.

Your eyes drank him up, taking their time soaking up every detail of his face, the slight stubble that decorated his chiseled jaw, his perfectly imperfect smile, his hair that fell slightly longer than you remembered. When he spoke again, you watched his mouth move and quickly got lost. You didn’t have to hear his words. You knew how he spoke them. You knew the effect his voice had. At the thought of that effect, you peeled your eyes away and tried to keep them on either Alicia, Amaya, or the table. Of course, it was impossible. Your eyes continuously found him, and it was on him they remained until you forced yourself to look away.

 “What do you keep looking at?”

 Amaya glanced around the restaurant. You knew she’d found him because when she turned to face you again, her smile was as wide as a thief's.

 “Oh ho ho, looks like fate is on mine and Leece’s side.”

 “Stop. Be cool, act natural. Don’t make a scene,” you pleaded.

 “Look at that, same place, same time, just mere feet away.”

 From the tone of her voice, you knew she was tempted to fuck with you.

 “Stop, Amaya. Don’t.”

 “Why?”

 Trying to keep your voice down and the panic from your face, you pleaded again. “Just don’t.”

 Amaya studied you for a few moments before she nodded in defeat. Relief flooded you. Though you tried, you couldn’t get your head back onto lunch and off of him no matter how you tried. The three of you left shortly after passing his table on the way out.

 Thanks to a little free time, you, Amaya, and Alicia were able to soak up some shopping in London and before getting back to the hotel for a quick change, then dinner. Even though you tried to stop thinking about Henry’s face earlier, you weren’t the least bit successful, but you played it off like everything was cool. You didn’t know if you fooled either of them, but you really didn’t care. You were so ready to get the hell out of London.

  -That Night-

Big Ben’s chime for one in the morning ringing out all around you. It was yet another night of sleeplessness. From your seat at the window, you could feel the nice breeze. It still smelled like rain, but for whatever reason, the rain was staying away. Finishing your glass of wine, you sighed out and nearly leaped out your skin when your phone rang in the quiet room.

 “Hello?”

 “What’s wrong?”

 You smiled from the unexpected sound of your gramaw’s voice. It was like the concrete gate you had around your heart that was constricting it to the point where it was challenging to breathe loosened.

 Sighing, you leaned back, reclining against the surface.

 “I think I fell in love,” you whispered.

 “In love?”

 Hearing the words said back to you made you close your eyes and shake your head.

 “Yeah, at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. I can’t sleep well, not that I could before. I feel a little depressed, and I can’t pinpoint why, but when I think about it, I feel this way when I think about him. Not to mention, I think about him all the time. Christ, I even dream about him.”

 Pausing, you glanced at your phone to find his picture there. It was the last thing you’d been looking at before tossing your phone away.

 “I truly feel like I did something wrong, like I was wrong,” you confessed.

 “Have you talked to him?”

 Hitting your head back, you groaned. “Not since he called me and told me I’m missing out on him and gave me all the reasons why I should realizing I’m missing out.”

 You couldn't help but smile at his words as you remembered them.

 “Do you feel like you’re missing out?”

 Your Gramaw always knew the right questions to ask. She was one of the few that did, one of the few that you’d even listen to. Bowing your head, you sighed again.

 “Maybe. Normally I’m sure about someone and sure that I don’t need or want them in my life, but with him—I have doubts with my snap judgment.”

 “Oh no, snap judgments are never a good thing, Aliya.”

 You groaned hearing the disappointment in her voice. “I know, jeez do I know.”

 “What do you feel like doing?”

 You scoffed, if you knew that you wouldn’t be going through this struggle.

 “I’ll be to you in a few days. I’ll see you soon.”

 “Your heart, Aliya, not your head,” she cautioned before you ended the call.

 For the next thirty or so minutes, you paced the balcony of your room as you debated with yourself over what you were going to do. After psyching yourself up as much as you could, you bit the bullet dialing Henry’s number before you talked yourself out of it. After one ring, you almost hung up but forced yourself to stick through the terror running through you. Two rings passed, then three. At the fourth you began to lower your hand to end the call and then his voice echoed through the speaker.

 “Hello?”

 You froze drawing a blank and forgetting for a moment you had a voice.

 “Hello?”

 “Hello,” you whispered.

 The rustling on his end was loud but brief.

 “Aliya?”

 Swallowing the lump, you took a deep breath. “Yeah. Hi.”

 “It’s after one in the morning. Is everything all right? Are you hurt?”

 Your heart lurched, and a soft smile spread across your lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not hurt,” you assured.

 He sighed, then yawned.

 “I uh—I know it’s late or early. I know you, um, probably have something better to do than be up. I’m sorry if I woke you,” you half rushed and stuttered out.

 “You’re rambling, Aliya.” You stopped your pacing then and slapped your forehead.

 “Yes, I am. I do that when I’m nervous,” you blurted.

 “Why are you nervous?”

 Pausing, you gripped the rail on the balcony and used it to center yourself and get your nerves under control.

 “Well, I’m about to ask the man I told I wouldn’t be with to meet me somewhere at nearly two in the morning. I’m—sending major mixed signals.”

 Henry didn’t speak right away. Instead, he waited, making you chew your bottom lip as your anxiety increased.

 “Why?”

 “Wh—why? Why what?”

 “Why should I?”

 Stunned, your jaw dropped. “Oh, wow, out with the hard questions. Okay. Um—well—you should meet me because uh—it’s not often that I realize I was wrong or did something wrong and when I realize that, I like to say so.”

 Again the silence over the phone stretched for long moments. After a full minute of it, your anxiety peaked.

 “Still there?”

 Henry sighed. “I’m here. I’m thinking.”

 His voice sounded so deliciously deep. Either you had woken him, and this was his sleepy voice, or he was purposely giving you that sexy baritone.

 “By all means. Think as long as you need to. Um—I’ll be at the eye until 2:30. I um—I hope you show. If you don’t, I understand, really I do and no hard feelings.”

 Quickly you ended the call and panted as if you’d been running a marathon all in an effort to calm yourself down. It had been years since you’d put yourself through something like that, and you had a feeling it was only the beginning of you making amends.

Being Aliya Taylor afforded you some perks, and one was being able to have access to the eye well after closing. All it took was one call, well two to be exact, and voila, you were sitting in one of the cars anxiously waiting for Henry. You had no idea if he’d show, and the more and more time that passed with him not magically appearing, the more and more your brain worked overtime. The scenery helped a lot, but when you glanced at your watch and saw that it was almost 2:30, the scenery could do no more. Your nerves and anxiety had erupted like a volcano.

 “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

 Spinning, you saw Henry at the door still on the platform. You released a relieved sigh, realizing he hadn’t stood you up.

 “Good thing I’m not—anymore.”

 Henry stepped into the car and took a few steps to you but stopped when he was still a ways away.

 “London after two is not safe,” Henry informed.

 “I know.”

 The doors closed, and the contraption began moving.

 “How in the world did you get them to open this for you?”

 Smiling, you shrugged. “I may know people in high places,” you replied, which made him smile.

“This is one of my favorite places in London,” you announced as you walked around the car, taking care not to get too close. You didn’t know if you could handle it right away, and you had to feel him out to see what his coming really meant.

 “Why?”

 “You can see all of greater London from here and out to the countryside if you really look once you’re up high.”

 Henry also walked around the car, mirroring your intentions. Neither of you came close enough to touch one another.

 “How often do you come to London?”

 “A lot. I have some family here, plus I prefer the countryside.”

 “So you have some British blood,” Henry inquired, half a question, half a statement.

 “I had to. Only the Bris would dare think to send their daughters off to finishing school,” you quipped.

 Henry’s laugh filled the car, making you smile widely. He walked to one of the many windows turning his back to you. Slowly you looked over his broad back, taking in every detail. Your fingers could still remember what the dance of his muscles felt like underneath them, and they itched to feel them dance again. Taking a deep breath, you fiddled your fingers.

 “Uh--I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important by asking you here. Like I hope I didn’t impose on—anyone.”

 You were fishing, it was obvious, and you felt no shame.

 “Eh, who needs sleep anyway. I can sleep when I’m dead,” Henry replied with a shrug of those magnificent shoulders still keeping his back to you.

 “Were um--were you uh—sleeping—alone?”

 Your heart was pounding so loudly you could swear he could hear it. He didn’t speak or turn around. He just stood there torturing you. You wondered if he knew it was sheer torture what he was doing. Did he even care? The longer he remained quiet, the more you freaked out until you decided to backtrack all the way back.

“I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. It is absolutely none of my business. I don’t even know why I asked that,” you rushed out, rubbing your forehead from embarrassment before beginning to pace the car.

 That was when Henry chose to turn around.

 “I know a woman doesn’t say something she doesn’t mean, and usually when a woman asks a question, she wants to know the answer either to prove herself right or in hopes she’s wrong. What is it for you?”

 His voice made you stop in the midst of pacing to watch his mouth as he spoke. There was something poetic about how he spoke, and it always distracted you. Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought about how to respond. You were already tired of the verbal Olympics and talking around each other.

 Sighing, you rolled your eyes. “Henry--.”

 “You know that’s the first time you’ve said my name without the word goodbye in front of it.”

 That made you snap your mouth shut. Had it?

 “That’s not true,” you protested.

 “It actually is. I was beginning to think you like saying goodbye rather than hello.”

 You took a step to him. “That’s not true. I like saying hello way more than goodbye,” you defended.

 The neutral look on his face gave you no confidence to go on, so you rolled your eyes and continued to walk around the car. This would be harder than you expected, you thought.

 “I was sleeping alone. I’ve slept alone for quite some time now,” he informed just as you were looking out of the window to the city.

 “Look, Henry, I-,” you began again, but then henry cut you off.

 “That day in New York those weeks ago, I should have plain and simply laid it out for you. I should have told you everything. I was with Francesca--.”

 “Don’t, don’t, don’t. I honestly don’t want to know.”

 “But you need to know. There is no way you can begin to trust me or begin to let yourself gravitate to me the way you’re entire being wants until you know,” Henry slid out. Pressing your palm to your abdomen, you tried to slow the butterflies that began flitting.

 “I was with Francesca for about two years. The whole time I knew she wanted a family in life. She was always vocal about her wanting to get married young and have kids. I knew, but I never paid attention to it. I was away filming something for a while, and when I came home one weekend, I caught her with someone else.”

 Your eyes widened, hearing his words.

 “turns out she was beginning a relationship with someone else, someone who she thought would lead to marriage and kids,” Henry added. His voice held steady, but you could imagine the pain going through those memories again.

 “I’m sorry.”

 Henry shook his head, “It’s not necessary. After a few months of her trying to make amends, I thought we’d try again.” He scoffed then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a hopeless romantic. After months of trying, I knew it wouldn’t work, but I kept a relationship of sorts with her.”

 You understood. They were bed buddies.

 “I then met Abby, and what started as a fling developed into something more. Long story short, I got wind of a rumor she was using me for fame and money, so I distanced myself from her. after some time of her telling I had it all wrong, I decided it was easier keeping her around though my heart wasn’t in it. I wasn’t juggling them. I hadn’t slept with either of them in a long time. I just—I felt it was better to have someone who misses me and wants me than living the lonely actor life.”

 His honesty had you frozen. When he began to explain, you hadn’t expected him to reveal so much. You expected a bare minimum explanation, but what you’d gotten revealed so much more about him. You felt bad.

 “I guess allowing the attentions and affections to remain is just as bad as juggling them. I was playing with their hearts. I’m not proud of it.”

 Henry dipped his head, showing he felt some shame for his actions.

 “When I met you, I realized although I had these two women sort of vying for me, I was still lonely, but those moments we were together, I didn’t feel alone. I felt--,” he paused as if trying to find the right word. His hesitation made you look down.

 You knew what you’d felt.

 “When I met you, I felt someone I’d never felt before, something I don’t fully understand. I don’t know what that means, but I know I want to find out—with you.”

 Finally, able to release the breath you held, you took another, then cleared your throat. “I’m not juggling two guys. I was dating two guys, but not sleeping with both. I was with Liam first, and we had an okay relationship. We were busy, never saw each other and when we did it wasn’t for long. He um—he got annoyed and broke up with me. He said I was impacting his work, and he needed to focus.”

 You remembered how he’d said it too. He’d said it like you were the one to blame for the roles he’d gotten or hadn’t gotten.

 “I was fine with it, and during those five months apart, I met Jesse. We worked together and had fun and began dating. It wasn't anything sexual. Then Liam comes back and wants to pick up where we left off. I told him about Jesse, and he was fine with it.”

 The shock on Henry’s face almost made you laugh. Alicia and Amaya were also surprised they’d chosen that unconventional path. Amaya, of course, thought you should have kept it secret from both of them.

 “One day, Jesse sees Liam and me out, and it pissed him off enough to end things. Three weeks later, I lay it out for both that I don’t want to choose, and I don’t want anything serious. They were both fine with it, and so it went on. Six months later, I decided I needed to be on my own to focus on work and me. They didn’t like the decision. They call and text me to try to—rekindle something.”

 Henry scoffed, and you watched a soft smile tickle his lips.

 “I haven’t physically seen either of them in weeks, now maybe months,” you finished.

 Henry was quiet for a few seconds before he snorted.

 “They were mad.”

 “Angry?”

 “No, mad, bonkers,” Henry clarified.

 “Oh, crazy.”

 “Yeah. To be okay to share you, be willing to do something like that. I couldn’t do that,” Henry informed, making you smile in the process.

 “Well, men do crazy things.”

 “I can attest to that, but I’d never do something that crazy. I can’t share what’s mine. I won’t.”

 Your eyes locked, and your body swayed toward his. It was like he was metal and you a magnet. Everything in you wanted to be close to him. The more you tried to fight the pull, the harder it became to breathe. The harder it was to breathe, the dizzier you became.

 “I—I—I—I,” you began before gulping the knot in your throat down that was making you speak in a raspy whisper. “I don’t—know what this is.”

 Henry nodded.

 “I am not used to not knowing and being out of control,” you continued.

 “You feel less controlled too?”

 You couldn't help but to nod. Once you did, Henry took a step to you. You took a step back.

 “Hold on. I like control. I like control a lot. Anything that threatens that control is not for me.”

 Henry’s eyes lowered but only for a moment before he was looking right back into yours.

 “But—I really want to find out why you make me less controlled,” you finally admitted.

 The uncertainty on his face spoke volumes.  “What does that mean? Where does that leave this—us?”

 You chewed your bottom lip; you realized how ill-prepared you’d been.

 “Honestly, I didn’t think this meeting out that far. I only planned up to when you showed up. I’ve um—I’ve been winging it this whole time.”

 His smile started small but spread wide in seconds; then, he laughed loudly.

 “So you won’t mind me making a plan?”

 Oh lord, you thought, feeling his alpha pop out. You bit your bottom lip again.

 “What kind of plan?”

 Henry closed the remaining space between you. Every step he took had you shaking even more.

 “A plan that I’ve envisioned every night since brunch.”

Stopped in front of you and held you captivated by his gaze and the sheer dominating energy rolling off of him. The way he stood there taller than you made your mouth run dry.

 “Jesus, you’re freakishly short,” Henry teased in his perfect Englishman voice.

 Smiling, you shook your head. “I know, I debated wearing heels but didn’t—I wanted you to see me normal for someone reason I don’t under--.”

 Henry’s sudden movement cut you off. He dipped down the entire foot he overshadowed you and lifted you into the air to hold you flush against his body. Then he lowered his lips to yours, taking and keeping control of an intensely passionate kiss. A kiss you hadn’t known you craved until it began, a kiss you were not prepared for. You moaned against his lips, and that moan triggered his. Wrapping your arm around his neck, you clung to him, and every sensation you were feeling and even new ones he was awakening within you.

 Slowly, Henry pulled his lips from your, but he kept your body to his. You kept your eyes closed, relishing the lingering effects.

 “You’re shaking,” Henry whispered.

 “So are you.”

 You opened your eyes and gazed into his as he slowly lowered you back to your feet.

 “What else is part of your plan?”

 Henry's smile spread across his face. “For me to carry out any other part of my plan would be completely rakish of  me.”

 His smile was adorable, but still intimidatingly sexy.

 “I take it you’re not a rake.”

 “Not in the least.”

 “All right. So, alternate plan?”

 He smiled again. “Still pretty rakish.”

 With that, he brought his lips back to yours, but this time he didn’t pull back for several long minutes.

 Though you knew people in high places, it didn’t mean you could keep the eye open all morning. After three trips around, the two of you got off then walked around London holding hands and eating ice cream. It was such a weird sensation allowing someone to hold your hand. It had been a long time since you’d ever wanted to. The entire time you laughed and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. One thing was clear; neither of you was in any rush for your time together to end.

 But end, it had to. When Henry walked you back to your hotel, it was almost time for the sun to come up.

 “Home safe and sound,” Henry joked.

 “Yes, thanks to Superman.”

 “No, no, I’m just the man. Henry Cavill.”

 He held his hand out to you. Smiling, you rolled your eyes.

 “Now is when we get to this?”

 His goofy smile and shrug had your head skip a beat.

 “Aliya Taylor,” you said, shaking his hand.

 “Nice to meet you. Mind if I call you Aliya or Liya, that's all a mouthful,” Henry teased.

 Your laugh was loud, and you had to clamp your hand over your mouth, remembering what time it was.

 “Yes, you can call me either. Can I call you Henners or Hank?”

 “No. My friends call me that.”

 “So, I’m not your friend?”

 “If I have anything to say about it, which I do, then no. I don’t want you as a friend.” Henry replied, making you smile like a little girl at Christmas.

 “Then what do you want me as?”

 Your eyes lingered for a few seconds before Henry was pulling you closer to brush the back of his hand against your cheek.

 “For now, I’ll settle for my girlfriend.”

 The man was an expert at charm. You bit into your bottom lip and tried to stop smiling. “Girlfriend, wow. That’s a loaded title. What does it entail?”

 “Well, for one, it entails being your true self with me, accepting my true self, being there for me when I need you, letting me be there for you when you need me or when I need you, allowing me to be your strength when you’re weak, your hope when you’re hopeless. Allowing me to grow with you, learn with you. Giving me your time and attention, enough of it so what we have can grow. Trusting me and letting me spoil you rotten.”

 If he weren’t holding you against him, you would have fallen back.

 “Is that all?”

 Henry leaned closer kisses your cheek. “To begin.”

 “And if I refused to be this girlfriend you speak of?”

 “Then I’d just have to convince you,” Henry cooed.

 “How?”

 Right on que, Henry dipped his lips to yours. The second they touched, you moaned and held him close. Why resist when you could enjoy it, you thought. His tongue swirled with yours before he nibbled then sucked your bottom lip. When he pulled back, your eyes remained closed.

 “I’m convinced.”

 Henry pecked your lips once, then twice. “Good. Girlfriend.”

 Your eyes locked again, and you forgot all common sense for what felt like an eternity.

 “Eh-em—I have to be on a set in the morning.”

 “Which is now,” Henry filled in.

 Still hazed in the brain, you stuttered and smiled like a fool.

 “Mm, did I stay out all night?”

 “You did. I hope it was worth it.”

 Smiling, you kissed his jaw. “We’ll see,” you whispered as you backed away from him, making your way to the door.

 “Good morning, Henry.”

 He smiled again, watching you disappear inside the hotel. As you walked to the elevator bank, you couldn’t stop smiling or stop the butterflies that had been flying all night in your stomach. As you stepped onto the elevator and watched the doors closed, you recognized the feeling you felt as happiness. It had been absent for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

[ppaperheartss]

Confessions Of A Trained Assassin

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: In which a baking mishap leads to secrets being exposed in the early hours of the morning

Warnings: some swearing, a load of fluff

A/N: I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible to make this oneshot more inclusive :) if anyone notices any details that make this less gender neutral please let me know. Any feedback and comments are appreciated!

Being a trained spy and assassin, Bucky knows a lot of things that he shouldn’t.

He knows that whenever Sam is working out in the gym alone he’ll listen to the Dreamgirls soundtrack, and his rendition of “And I Am Telling You” isn’t half bad.

He knows Steve has to write his phone passcode on the inside of his wrist under his watch strap every morning because he always forgets it, being the old man that he is.

He knows Stark likes to watch Disney movies when he struggles to get to sleep.

He knows Natasha can’t tell her left from her right and always has to use her fingers to check.

And Y/N… well, he doesn’t know anything.

You weren’t a new addition to the team - you had been there longer than Parker had - but Bucky just got so tongue tied whenever he was around you that his mind went fuzzy.

He doesn’t have a crush on you, though, no matter how much Sam tries to get him to admit it. No, you just have this weird power over him. When you first arrived at the compound everyone was shocked to see the super soldier so bashful. His cheeks tinted red and his posture sunk as he shook your hand, and his sheepish smile matched your curious one. 

He couldn’t hold a conversation with you for longer than a minute before leaving. His palms get sweaty and he can embarrassingly hear all of the gears in his metal arm whirr whenever you’re around. Your presence makes him nervous (but in a good way), and he can’t seem to control himself. The best way he can find to cope with it all is just to get himself out of the situation as quickly as possible.

There was no way you intimidated the six-foot and pure muscle of a man, so did he just not like you? You talked to Natasha about it, and she just gave you a knowing smile and said he really didn’t not like you. Your mind melted that night trying to figure out her riddles.

“Earth to Bucky. Hello?” Bucky blinked back into reality as Sam waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim lights of the restaurant Steve had taken the whole team as a celebratory meal for the last successful mission. You had been undercover in Japan and were the guest of honour, and Bucky (despite hating Thai food) couldn’t say no to a meal in your favourite restaurant. He wacks his hand away and sinks back in his chair, gazing around the table.

You were seated almost directly across from him, between Tony and Steve. Bucky smiled as he watched you laugh and smile with your teammates, running your fingers through your hair absentmindedly. He watched as the rings that adorned your fingers shimmered in the light, and your eyes had a similar twinkle in them. Your eyes latched onto his and you threw him a cheeky smile - nose scrunched and mouth open wide - and all Bucky could do was sink back into his chair further.

He had been a charmer back in the day, but now all of that confidence had disappeared and he could barely manage to maintain eye contact with anyone he found remotely attractive for more than five seconds. 

He missed the pout on your face as he looked away.

The door swinging open from the kitchen caught everyone’s attention and the table grew silent as the group anxiously waited for their food to arrive. A few waiters made their way over, calling out the meals they had and handing them over to their designated person. 

“Pad Thai?” A waiter called out, and you squealed excitedly as you raised your hand, signalling it was yours. The waiter moved over to you, holding the plate with a small dish towel.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” He warned, moving to put the plate down in front of you. But you took it from him with ease, thanking him with a cheerful smile. The waiter stares at you almost in shock, and Bucky can’t help but notice the steam rising off of the plate and the way your fingertips glow red. But you don’t flinch, barely even notice the way your fingertips shine at the onslaught of blisters ready to form.

Tony notices the peculiar interaction before touching the plate. He recoils, hissing loudly and dumping his fingers unceremoniously in his glass of water. 

“Christ Y/N, that’s fucking burning.” He exclaims, and you simply laugh in response.

“I didn’t even notice. Must be too excited to eat it.” You respond, and Tony laughs as he shakes his head.

-

The kitchen is quiet as Bucky stirs the mixture delicately with a spatula. He couldn’t pronounce what he was making - it was a Sokovian dish Wanda had talked about months ago. Steve had told him that it was nearing Pietro’s anniversary and he wanted to do something nice for her - she had been helpful with his recovery back into normal life.

He enjoyed times like this; alone with his thoughts. He hummed a song he remembered hearing as a kid back in Brooklyn. His mother loved music. Bucky had three jobs at the time to save enough money to buy her a record player, and she would let him pick what record he wanted to listen to as she made supper. He remembers teaching Becca how to dance to his favourite song by letting her stand on his feet and guiding her around the living room. 

Pouring the mixture onto a dish he puts it into the preheated oven and leans against the counter as he sets a timer. He doesn’t know how long he cleans up for before he hears soft footsteps padding into the kitchen. He recognises that it isn’t Steve (he knows what Steve’s walking sounds like), and when he turns round he sees you with a mishevield head of hair and a sleepy smile.

“Whatever you’re making smells amazing,” you say as you jump up on the countertop across from him, peeking into the oven. “What is it?”

“It’s for Wanda,” he says as he finishes drying off the last of the dishes and begins to put them into their cupboards. Anything to keep him distracted from how welcoming you look, sitting there in fuzzy socks and pyjamas. “I think it’s a cake.”

“You think it’s a cake?” You snort, and he manages a laugh.

“It’s Sokovian, so your guess is as good as mine.” he says, turning round to face you. “Why are you up so late?” He asks, wringing the slightly damp dish towel in his hands.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You say mischievously, but he notices the bags under your eyes. You sigh at his silence and shake your head. “That mission was rough. My mind is running a mile a minute.”

He frowns sympathetically at you. “What did you do out there? That mission was long - what was it, two weeks?”

“A month,” you say, and his eyebrows raise in surprise. “It was pretty grim, seen some things I wish I never had.���

He notices how standoff-ish you’re being with your answers, and decides not to push it any further. 

You notice his understanding of your emotions, and are glad he doesn’t ask any more questions.

“Dinner was fun, wasn’t it?” He asks, and you quirk a brow.

“I thought Thai food wasn’t your thing.” You respond, and he manages a laugh.

“It’s not.” He answers truthfully, and you just laugh at him. “But it was your night, and I wanted to be there to celebrate with you.”

You smile at him, and he smiles back genuinely. His gaze drops quickly when he feels his cheeks begin to burn, and you open your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is this the longest conversation we’ve ever had?” You ask, and he sighs as he drops his head.

“I don’t-” He gets cut off by the beeping of the timer, and jumps to open the oven quickly. He grabs the tray with his metal arm - forgetting about the new heat sensors Stark had put in each of the fingers - and he yells out at the searing pain that quickly travels up his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yell, jumping off of the counter and quickly catching the dish before it smashes on the ground.

“Wait, Y/N no-” Bucky watches - more in astonishment than awe - as you put the dish on the counter with ease and hold his hand, looking for any signs of damage. 

“Can you move your fingers?” You ask, and when he doesn’t respond you look up to see him staring right back at you. “What is it?”

“How did you do that?” He asks, standing up straight with you.

“Do what?” You question, happily oblivious to how strange your actions were.

“You just held a searing hot glass bowl without even flinching. You did the same at the restaurant with the plate.” Your face grows hot at the realisation that he caught onto these little things, and you laugh awkwardly as you drop his hand.

“It’s uh- it’s embarrassing.” You admit, and Bucky tilts his head like a confused puppy.

“Y/N,” he says, and you sigh.

“When I was younger… I was never allowed to eat anything without my parent’s permission. So one night I decided to rebel and eat a whole carton of ice cream - without a spoon. I’ve lost all feeling in my finger tips because of it.” Bucky stares at you for what feels like eternity, before he bursts out laughing.

“Oh my God,” he manages through laughter and you shove his shoulder.

“It’s not funny!” You defend yourself, but the sight of tears of mirth rolling from his eyes has your doubled-over alongside him.

“Christ, Y/N,” he breathes out, wiping his face. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

You shrug with a cheeky smile on your face. “Now you know something about me that no one else does, and I’ll kill you if you ever tell anyone.” You threaten.

He grins, holding his hands up in defence. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

You smile, nudging his shoulder as you turn to make sure the dish didn’t get ruined. He watches you with a happy smile on his face. A sudden surge of confidence takes over him, and he inhales deeply.

“If you love ice cream so much, let me take you out to this ice cream parlour I know sometime.”

You turn back to him, and he grows bashful under your gaze. But you smile, reach out for his hand and give it a squeeze. “I’d love that.”

You both look at each other for a painfully long moment, and with the last ounce of confidence in his body Bucky leans down to capture your lips in his.

There is something Bucky knows about you that no one else does - what it feels like to kiss you in the early hours of the morning.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x gender netural reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x m!reader #natasha romanoff #tony stark #wanda maximoff #mcu #steve rogers #sam wilson #marvel #peter parker #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #fanfic #oneshot

[skieswords]

Pull Through Part 5

Please make sure you read the warnings in part 1❤️

"Fuck. Wake up boys, we're late." Becca's eyes fluttered open at the sound of Alex's voice, and the first thing she noticed was the warm chest her cheek was resting on, and the hand pressed against the small of her back. Luke groaned, and opened his eyes, looking down to see a mess of curls lying on top of him, and feeling Becca's t-shirt in his hand. She was on top of him, her blue eyes looking up at him in surprise. "Uh, morning." Luke grinned as Becca buried her face in his chest again, groaning into his t-shirt. They looked to their left and found Reggie staring at them, his hair sticking up in all directions. "Did you 

two...?" He pointed between them, eyes wide. Becca's jaw dropped in horror, and she jumped off Luke, accidentally kneeing him in the stomach. He groaned and buried his face in a cushion, hiding the furious blush spreading up his neck, while Becca smiled apologetically and ran a hand through her hair. "No, we didn't. Gross." Alex came in, car keys in hand, yawning and stretching his arms above his head. "Morning Bex. Luke, a word?" He shot a glare at Luke, who was now sat up on the sofa, rubbing his temples gently. He held his hands up towards Alex, and shuffled through to the bathroom, pulling his shoes on as he hopped. "Bex. Car. Now." Alex was pissed, and Becca sighed as she laced her converse, looking over her outfit. "I need to get changed. I have clothes in the l-" She was interrupted by Reggie dropping a bag on the floor from the loft, a collection of Becca's clothes from over the years. "Loft. Thanks Reg." She knelt down and started raking through the clothes, blinking desperately to keep herself awake. A few moments later, she'd yanked an old band t-shirt over her head, and tossed her curls into a messy ponytail, and was now trying to pull her shorts down in the mirror, groaning when they didn't budge. "I'm going to get dress-coded. Alex can I just skip?" Alex laughed from behind her and tugged her ponytail gently, crossing his arms as he leant against the wall. "Mom and dad are already going to kill me for having you out all night, the least I can do is force you to go to school." She stuck her tongue out at him, and gave up, hoping the tights would be enough the satisfy Ms Carlisle. The bathroom door opened, and Luke emerged looking slightly more awake than he had when they first woke up. He made eye contact with Becca and cleared his throat, glancing at Alex as she blushed and ran into the bathroom. "Seriously dude? The literal minute she turns 16 and you're after her." Luke shook his head and snorted. "Not a chance. You know how we see her. Little sister, all the way." He looked into Alex eyes, hoping his best friend bought it. They'd known since they were 12, Becca was totally off limits to the boys. Something about not wanting his little sister mixed up with rockstars- although he had a feeling that wasn't the actual reason. Becca listened to their exchange through the bathroom door, sadness clouding her eyes. She'd hoped that after last night, with Luke telling her all that stuff about being on stage, that they might have grown closer. She'd fancied the boy since she was 13- and over the last year, having shared a lot of laughs during rehearsals, she'd developed a full blown crush. But he clearly didn't feel the same.

"Bex! Where were you last night? I tried calling but your mom picked up, said you were studying..." Becca nodded slowly, realising that must have been the lie Alex spun to her parents. "Yeah, I had a ton of math work to catch up on." This was feasible. The entire class knew about Becca's turbulent relationship with the math department. Ray nodded and leaned up against the locker next to hers, taking in her appearance. "You're gonna get in so much trouble for that- Ms C is in an evil mood." Becca groaned and slammed her head against her locker door, shoving a textbook into her bag as she turned to face Ray. "I'll just avoid her. It'll be fine." He grinned and reached into his bag, holding out a messily wrapped box. "Happy birthday." She couldn't help but smile back at him, rolling her eyes and reaching out to take the box. "Thank you. You shouldn't have though, I told you I don't like my birthday." He shrugged and watched with eager eyes as she tore off the paper, opening her locker to throw it in as it fell. "No you didn't. Ray!" She threw her arms around his neck, the box pressed between them. "I noticed your wheels were looking kinda wonky the other day, so. Here you go. Can you come tonight? I'll put them on for you." Becca smiled at him and tucked a curl behind her ear. "Yeah, yeah I think so. Thank you, Ray." He'd gotten her a set of new wheels for her skateboard, which she desperately needed. A blowout with her dad a few weeks back had resulted in him tossing her board out the 3rd floor window, and had sent the front wheel off to the left, and she hadn't been able to fix it. Ray was a genius with boards, and had the most gorgeous hand painted designs. She slipped the wheels carefully into her bag and linked arms with him, letting him walk her to english. Luke watched the entire display from across the hall, his hand resting on the small box in his locker. It was stupid, just a little gift- but he thought she'd like it. It could wait, he decided, and he pushed his locker door shut a little too harshly, causing a loud clatter to echo through the hall. He swung his guitar case over his shoulder and headed for the music rooms, passing off on the AP english class he had with Becca. He couldn't watch her with that guy any longer.

The end of the day took it's time, but as soon as the bell went, Becca was out of her class and in her locker, desperate to get home. "Hey Mercer, you looked good last night." Becca looked up, surprised to find Will Thomas, star quarterback, smirking down at her. "Oh, hey Will. Thanks, I didn't know you were there?" He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. It was similar to the move Luke frequently pulled, but Becca didn't find the action as endearing when Will did it. "Uh, I should get going." She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her back. "I'm having a party this weekend. You should come." Becca looked at him in shock, her eyes wide, flicking down to the tight grip he held on her. "Oh, really? I'll see what I'm doing." He nodded at her, letting his eyes rake over her body unapologetically as she walked away, her right hand rubbing the wrist he'd held. Luke watched the interaction, once again from across the hall. Having lockers opposite each other wasn't the ideal situation he had originally imagined it to be. Slamming his locker door shut again, he followed her out the doors, face thunderous and hands thrust deep in his pockets. Becca was already at the car, complaining about something to Alex. "Why can't you just drop me off on the way home? I'll get food later." Alex rolled his eyes and gave her a push into the car, opening the trunk for Luke's guitar. "It's your birthday, mom and dad want to see you." Becca huffed and crossed her arms around her knees. She brightened slightly as Luke approached the car, but sank into her seat when she noticed his expression. Apparently everyone was having a bad day today. "What's up with your face?" Luke shrugged and leaned against the side of the car, avoiding having to sit next to Becca, instead waiting for Reggie to come out. "Teachers on my ass about work, that's all." Becca frowned; Luke never did work, and never cared when he was chased up for it. "What we doing this weekend? We don't have anything booked, do we?" Alex shook his head, dumping his jacket in the back and sighing as the californian sun once again defied all odds, and appeared just as they were hitting December. "Nothing booked, think we were just going to hang out at the studio." Luke nodded, risking a glance towards Becca, who appeared to be examining her ripped tights in great detail. Luke frowned as he noticed the large tear in the material- they'd been fine that morning. Reggie arrived at the car, grumbling about his government teacher, who'd told him he'd have to drop if he didn't buck up. "At least you actually go to class. Luke skipped english this morning." At the mention of his name, Luke's head snapped up, his eyes slightly brighter. She'd noticed his absence. "Where'd you go?" Luke shrugged and pushed the seat back as Reggie clambered in, dropping into the front seat. "Didn't feel like class." Becca rolled her eyes and leaned over Alex's seat, activating her most pleading puppy dog eyes, and resting her chin on his shoulder. "How come he gets to skip class? He's behind already, and I'm acing english." Alex chuckled and shoved her back into her seat. "Luke's older than you, and exactly. You're acing it because you go." Becca scowled and leaned on Reggie, reading the various scribbles running up his arms. Looked like he had a lot of homework. "How do you guys fancy a party this weekend? Heard Thomas is having one." Becca looked up as Luke began to speak, her eyebrows raised in surprise. Reggie frowned. "I thought you hated him? Said something about him being a-" Luke glared at Reggie in the mirror, sticking his lower lip out in such a childish way that Becca couldn't help her grin. "It's something to do. Bex got invited." Becca leaned over and punched him in the arm, scowling and glancing at Alex nervously. "Yeah as if she's going. You know what he's like." Becca groaned from the back seat and kicked Alex's chair, making him jump. "I can do what I want." All three of the boys laughed at the same time, and Alex started to drive off. Becca slumped in her seat and stared out the window. Sometimes having 3 older brothers wasn't ideal.

"Happy birthday darling!" Becca blinked in the sudden brightness as she walked into the kitchen, and found her mom standing beside the kitchen table, beside a birthday cake and a bunch of balloons. "Thanks mom." Julia smiled and pulled Becca into a hug, kissing her head and squeezing her tightly. "I have a shift later on tonight, but I thought we could have dinner together? And then Alex will take you over to Reggie's to study, but I want you to come home tonight, please." Becca nodded absentmindedly, sticking a finger into the icing on her cake. It was vanilla. "Is dad coming home?" Julia shook her head with a smile, and Becca noticed that her shoulders seemed more relaxed, and her hair hung around her face, a rare sight for the usually up tight Julia Mercer. "I got you something. It's on your bed." Becca grinned and hugged her mom one more time, before running out and up the stairs, nearly knocking Alex over in the process. "Woah, what's got you in such a rush?" Becca shrugged and kept running, barging through her door and squealing delightedly. Alex came racing in behind her, afraid that she'd gotten hurt. Becca was unwrapping a small parcel on her bed, not caring about the muddy soles of her converse. "No way." She held up a shoebox, laughing lightly to herself. "Vans? I'm trying to work out if this is some type of sick joke, or if she just asked around to see what kind of shoes skaters wear. Do you think this means she'll let me go?" Alex shrugged and smiled at the expression his little sister wore. She knew she'd have to wear them, so she wouldn't hurt their mom's feelings. But she also knew wearing them to the studio would mean getting ridiculed by Luke. "Fuck it. Are you eating with us?" Alex sighed and gave her a gentle smack round the back of the head, kneeling down to tie her laces. "Depends." Becca fell silent, and he felt her eyes on him. "He's not coming." Alex looked up and met her eyes, watching the grin slowly spread across her face. "Then of course I am. I'm not missing out on birthday cake." She cheered and jumped off the bed, waiting for him to stand up before throwing herself at his back and wrapping her legs around his waist. He hooked his arms through her knees and started to carry her down the stairs, stopping on the landing. "Not a word about last night. I want to speak to you about it in the car anyway, so keep your mouth zipped." Becca nodded and rested her chin on his shoulder. This was shaping up to be her favourite birthday yet. Cake, her mom, and her brother, with the promise of a trip to the skate park and a visit to the boys as well. Not to mention she got to wake up on top of Luke Patterson. Not that that's important or meant anything to her in the slightest, she reminded herself.

Skateboard in hand and new vans on, Becca headed out to Alex's car, happier than she'd felt in weeks. Even though he'd said no to the skatepark, Alex had said she could take her board and practice tricks in Reggie's backyard, as long as she was careful and didn't damage any plantpots. "So. About last night." Becca fidgeted in her seat, not sure where this was going. Was it about the performance? Or the drugs? Or Luke? It could be any number of things, none of them particularly high on her list of preffered car conversation topics. "When were you gonna tell me you could play like that?" Becca let out a sigh of relief. Definitely the least dangerous topic. "Uh, I didn't really know I could play like that myself, to be fair." Alex raised his eyebrows at her, and pulled out of the driveway. "I taught myself a little, and I spoke to some of the music teachers at school- they helped. But I dunno, I just really enjoyed it. Luke worked out I could play by himself, he found some stuff I'd written and forced me to tell him." Alex pursed his lips, and his eyes hardened. "Mmm. That's another thing. Luke." Becca groaned internally- she'd hoped to avoid this one. "What do you mean?" Alex shot her a look of pure disbelief, and she threw her head back against the seat. "Nothing, Alex. I promise. We came in late from the garden last night, and he was gonna sleep on the floor. I felt mean so told him to share the couch." Alex looked at her intently as they reached a red light, before shrugging and continuing the drive in silence. Becca watched out the window as the houses flew by, sighing wistfully as they passed the turnoff for the skatepark.

Luke watched as Reggie nearly fell over the railing in the loft for the fourth time, rolling his eyes and collapsing onto the couch. Alex had said they'd be there around 7, and had warned they better be ready or he'd be pissed. Luke jumped up as he heard a car pull into the driveway, sharing a look with Reggie, who was still sitting on the banister. The familiar roll of Becca's skateboard could be heard on the crazy paving , alongside the jingling of Alex's car keys, and then a scuffle and a screech, as Becca tripped. Eventually, the Mercer siblings appeared at the door, Becca's skateboard tucked under her arm, and Alex trying his hardest to suppress a grin. "Oh my god. Guys!" Becca's hands flew to her mouth as she took in the garage. The boys had spent the last few hours stringing fairy lights across the ceiling, and a painted banner hung across the rafters reading 'Happy Birthday Bex!' in Reggie's handwriting, thankfully. Reggie pulled her into a hug and ruffled her hair. "It's the least we could do." Alex pushed her into the studio, and towards the coffee table, where a messily iced cake sat, chocolate frosting layered thickly over the entire cake. Becca smiled to herself, a warm feeling spreading across her chest as it hit her that the boys remembered her favourite. "Did you make this?" She glanced at Luke suspiciously, who held his hands up and rolled his eyes at her. "Reggie's mom made it- but I iced it." She grinned and pulled him into a hug, letting her head rest on his chest as she breathed in his musky scent of cheap aftershave, and something distinctly boyish. "It's awesome. Thank you." Luke wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, resisting the urge to stroke her hair. They stayed like that for a moment longer than was strictly necessary, until a look from Alex caught Luke's attention, and he jumped away, clearing his throat. "Where's Bobby?" Reggie shrugged and flopped onto the couch, watching Luke with a slight grin. The dark haired guitarist was walking around the back of the studio, scuffing the toes of his vans against the floor, as he watched Becca out the corner of his eye. The tension between them could literally be cut with a knife, but they still chose to ignore it. Even Alex had commented on it before, much to his own disgust. The idea of his baby sister dating anybody genuinely terrified him- and he knew what a flirt Luke could be. But as the drummer and bassist of Sunset Curve watched the two from opposite corners of the room, the only thought going through their minds was 'how long now.' The pair had been dancing around each other for years now. Luke had even taken Becca to her freshman, and her sophomore homecoming, with it now being an ongoing joke between them. Becca couldn't dance in the slightest. In fact, at both dances, they'd had to take a break so that Luke could ice his foot. He'd asked her by coincidence in freshman year because she'd been crying in the hallway after school, after a group of sophomores had teased her for going alone. By sophomore year, him and Alex were good friends, and they decided to do it as a joke. Junior homecoming was coming up, and he wasn't sure whether to ask her or not. He wanted to, but now that they were both aware there was something more there... it might be weird. Not to mention Alex would insist on being there with them. "We're not exactly speaking to him right now." Becca nodded at Alex's words, and let a hand drift up to stroke the edge of the banner strung up in the rafters.

"I got you something." Becca looked up, pleasantly surprised to see Luke's eyes boring into her own, a hint of worry floating in them. She smiled at him and tilted her head to the side slightly, swaying from left to right gently. "You shouldn't have. Thank you, though." Luke nodded and reached into his jacket pocket, handing over a small box wrapped in brown paper. "Meant to say earlier, nice kicks." He bumped the the worn toe of his vans against the fresh white of hers, smiling as she took the box from him with a brief eye roll. Becca felt her cheeks warming up as she stroked her thumb over her name, scrawled on top of the package in barely legible handwriting. She met his eyes again, and after an encouraging nod from Luke, tore the paper, and opened the box. She stared at the gift in silence, silently grateful that he couldn't see her expression. A guitar string lay coiled inside, resting on tissue paper. It had been cut, just about the right size to fit around her wrist. There was a charm hanging off it, three silver icons that made Becca's breath catch in her throat. A minature electric guitar, a pair of drumsticks, and a bass guitar. Her boys. A slight cough from Luke made her glance up at him, to find his cheeks on fire, and his lip in between his teeth. "It's not much- I saw the charms and thought of you, and I restrung my six string last week so I thought it would be cool, I get it if you don't wanna wear it of course, it's stupid-" He was cut off by Becca's arms being thrown around his neck, catching her in surprise and holding her tightly, feeling a smile spread across his face. "I love it, Luke. Thank you." They stepped apart, and Becca handed him the bracelet, holding out her wrist. "Can you?" He nodded and fiddled with the clasp, clipping it around her wrist. It fit perfectly. He didn't let go of her wrist, his thumb stroking over her hand as he admired the bracelet. It was pretty neat, if he said so himself. Alex watched their interaction from his spot on the couch, groaning internally. He knew it would only be so long until the two of them got over themselves, and the thought terrified him. He didn't want Becca getting hurt, and he knew Luke had a bit of a reputation. It was clear they liked each other- to everyone apart from them, apparently. Luke's attempt to lie to him that morning had been quite pathetic, even for him.

Bobby showed up not long after Becca and Alex had arrived, but he avoided giving her a hug, after multiple glares from Luke, who hadn't left her side all evening. The boys were rather cold towards him- they weren't happy he'd bailed on them for the gig. "Did you get on alright without me though? It didn't make a huge difference to the set, did it?" None of the boys got the chance to answer- Becca snorted loudly, and clapped her hands. "Ha, no of course not. They had me instead." Bobby raised his eyebrows, and looked her up and down appreciatively. "Woah, so you play too? Nothing like a girl who's good with her hands." He winked at her, and she gagged, while Alex punched his arm, and Luke clenched his fists. "In your dreams, Robert." Reggie grinned at Becca and fist-bumped her, handing her another cup of juice. Luke sighed and settled back onto his couch, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head, telling him to floor Bobby. That wouldn't be the best way to end Becca's birthday. They sat there for a while longer, enjoying each other's company, until Alex looked at the clock and swore quietly. "It's getting late Bex, we should head soon." Becca glanced at the clock and frowned. It was only just after 8pm. She met Alex's eyes, but the slight frown on his face explained everything. "Right. Let's go."

#jatpsmut #jatpluke #jatpimagine #jatpcast #jatpimagines #julieandthephantomssmut #julieandthephantoms #julie and the himbos #julieandthephantomscast #luke patterson imagine #lukepattersonsmut #lukepatterson #luke patterson smut #luke patterson x reader #jatp

[impala-dreamer]

I'm not a writer but here's my best try at a 'comfort fic.' hope you like it.

Jensen x Becca

"Fuck! Not again!" Becca grunted, throwing her computer on the floor of her bedroom. The fragile bundle of plastic, metal and glass landing with a less than satisfying thud. Becca had half a mind to take it outside to the garage and beat the damn thing with a hammer until nothing remained.

She begrudgingly dragged herself from her bed, stepping over the object, fighting the urge to stomp on it, as she made her way out of her bedroom.

"Oh, hey." Becca said opening her door to her roommate, Jensen, with his hand in midair about to knock.

"Hey, uh, you okay? What was that thud? You stub your toe or somethin'?" He inquired with a cheeky grin, that is until he seen the unimpressed expression on her face. His tone then became much softer, softer than she was used to. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Becca closed her eyes with a sigh, before releasing the flood gates, and airing her frustration to the emerald eyes staring back at her.

"Nothing, it's just my laptop, it's been messing up for a while now, and it just quit on me. Like completely dead. And now I have no way to do any of my work, or write my stories. Which means I'm gonna be even more broke this week because I'm gonna miss all my deadlines. Which also means I can't afford another computer which will put me even more behind and I'm never gonna catch up, and I'm just so, so very so tired. And-"

"Hey, hey, calm down for a second and take a deep breath." Jensen said, gently cupping her cheek, running his thumb across her cheekbone.

Becca complied.

"Okay, and another."

He paused while she took another deep breath.

"Good. Now come here." Jensen smiled as he pulled Becca into his chest. One hand came up to cradle the back of her head, as the other wrapped around her lower back pulling her body flush to his own.

For a long moment he said nothing, gently rocking her while they stood there in the doorway of her bedroom. It wasn't long before Becca burst into tears, crying into his neck as he held her close.

See it wasn't just the stupid laptop eating away at her, actually it was everything. Lately it just seemed like the world was closing in on her. Becca's anxiety had been through the roof for weeks now, and she just couldn't take it anymore.

Not to mention the fact that she was in love with her best friend, who was in love with someone else. Standing there in his arms crying her eyes out, she allowed herself to imagine that he loved her the way she loved him.

She was almost able to believe it, but she knew better.

"Okay listen, here's what we're gonna do-" he started, leaning away from her so he could look into her eyes, wiping away her tears. "I'm gonna go run you a bath with some of that bubbly shit you like, and you're gonna go in there and relax for a while."

"Jensen you don't have to do that, I can run my own bath." Becca sighed with a roll of her eyes.

"I know you can, that's not the point. Now go find some clothes to put on, and I'll go get it ready. Ok?" He confirmed. Becca just nodded, and he grinned before kissing her head and walking off towards the bathroom.

'Stupid, sweet boy.' she thought to herself, opening her dresser to gather her things.

Ten minutes passed before Jensen called her into the bathroom, and when Becca entered she couldn't believe her eyes.

He had done more than just prepare a bath for her. No, he had set the scene entirely.

He had lit candles, and sprinkled rose petals along the floor and over the bubbles in the bathtub. There was a bottle of wine and a wine glass sitting on the counter, and her favorite song was playing from the bluetooth speaker.

"Jensen.. wow." She breathed, already feeling like she may cry again.

"Ah, it's nothing." He dismissed, rubbing the back of his neck and nibbling on his full bottom lip.

"Nothing.. what? Jensen this is beautiful. No one's ever done anything for me, remotely as sweet as this before." She said, gesturing around the room.

"Well.. I'm glad you like it, darlin', enjoy. I'll let you know when dinners ready." Jensen stepped around her, kissing her temple, before closing the door behind himself.

Now Becca's head was swimming with thoughts of what that means. It's not that it's unusual for Jensen to kiss her head, but he'd never done it twice in one day, let alone in ten minutes.

Becca got undressed, clipped her hair up, and slowly eased her aching body into the scorching hot water, a dreamy sigh escaping her lips.

She inhaled the thick scent of lavander as her eyes drifted shut, relishing in the feeling of her entire body relaxing all at once.

It wasn't long before she was fast asleep, the wine long forgotten on the counter. Before she knew it Jensen was gently knocking on the door with the promise of delicious food right down the hallway.

As Becca entered the kitchen, her mouth once again hit the floor.

Jensen had once again set the scene. He'd dimmed the lights, lit candles, put on some quiet music in the background, and the dinner he'd made for the two of them was spread out on the table.

"Omg, what's all this?" She gasped, eyes as big as saucers.

"Oh nothing really, just trying to help ya relax, ya know? Come sit."

Becca slowly walked to the table, becoming even more confused when he pulled the seat out for her, sliding it under her as she sat down.

"Again, Jensen, this is not nothing." She almost whispered, not even sure if he'd heard her until he sat down across from her.

"Just enjoy this will ya? It's no big deal, I just hate seeing you so stressed out, especially when something as simple as this will make you feel better. Hopefully, anyways."

Becca nodded, looking at the juicy burger and crispy fries in front of her, hearing her stomach rumble at the thought of food.

They both sat in comfortable silence as they ate. Becca constantly wondering what had gotten into him. Why was he being so sweet? It's not unlike him to care, but grand gestures like this? Fucking weird.

Occasionally the pair would make eye contact and they'd both smile a little, but they never spoke.

When dinner was over Jensen took their plates to the sink before coming back over to Becca, taking her hand.

"Come with me." Jensen said pulling her to her feet.

He quietly led them to his bedroom, making her close her eyes before he opened his door. He led her into the center of his room and let go of her hand.

"Okay. Open em'."

Becca opened her eyes to see that Jensen had set up his bed with every pillow in the house, her weighted blanket folded up at the foot of his bed, a basket full of the candy they keep in the kitchen was on his nightstand, and her favorite movie was up on his tv.

This time when Becca seen what Jensen had set up, she'd had enough.

"Whadaya think? Movies and cuddles sound good?" He asked, as he slid his arm around her shoulders, leaning in to ONCE AGAIN kiss her temple.

Becca pulled away, taking a large step backwards.

"Jensen enough, what are you doing? This is so weird. What's going on?" She huffed.

"Becca, I told you already I'm just trying to help you relax."

Becca couldn't even stand to look at him. Here he was doing something that was incredibly meaningful for her, but to him it was no big deal? This is what she'd always wanted, especially from him, but not in the way she'd hoped. This was too big, it was like rubbing it in her face that this man, who's done these amazing things for her, would never truly be hers.

"Jensen. I.. I think I just need to lie down. Thank you for all this, but I just need some sleep." Becca turned and started for the door, trying to get away from him before the tears in her eyes could fall..but Jensen stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.

"Becca come on, just one movie? Please?"

Becca couldn't look at him, couldn't even speak, and with a gentle tug of her arm, she walked out of his room.

But, to her dismay, Jensen followed.

Becca didn't have the energy to fight him, and as she entered her room, she left the door open behind her. Sure enough, he followed, closing the door behind him.

"Becca please, tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

Becca still hadnt looked at him.

"Nothing's wrong Jensen, I'm just tired." She replied weakly.

"Bullshit. You're crying. Why?"

She couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Because Jensen! Because you're too fucking perfect. I know you're just trying to make me feel better but it means more than that to me." She yelled, finally facing him. "Because you mean more to me than you should, and I can't handle you doing things like that for me, because I know you're not doing it for the reason I want you to be." She finished quietly.

"Sweetheart-"

"Stop calling me that," she shot back.

"Becca. What are you saying?" Jensen asked quietly.

"You don't love me. And when you do stuff like all this, it makes me feel like you do. And I can't take it."

"Don't love you? What the fuck?" Jensen snapped, anger and confusion flooding his system. "I did all this BECAUSE I love you."

"Not like I love you." Becca whispered, tears falling freely down her face.

"And how exactly is that?" He asked, taking a slow step towards her.

"Shit Jensen, you really gonna make me spell it out for you?? I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU." She cried.

Jensen grinned. Actually GRINNED at her.

"Becca, I'm in love with you too, sweetheart. Always have been. I mean shit, literally since the day we met."

"What?" Becca asked dumbly.

"You heard me."

Becca felt dizzy, and her knees felt weak, just as she started to buckle, Jensen caught her. He scooped her up into his arms bridal style, and took her back to his room.

Jensen gently laid Becca on his bed, covering her up with her weighted blanket before climbing in beside her.

He leaned over her and planted a wet kiss on her forehead, before repeating the action on the top of her nose, before finally connecting their lips for the first time.

They kisses for a long moment before Becca suddenly pulled away.

"Wait. You're in love with me??"

Jensen just laughed.

"Yes baby, come here."

Becca cuddled into Jensens side, laying her head on his chest, knee across his groin, breathing in his delicious cologne.

"Get some sleep babygirl, we'll talk about this in the morning, and see about getting you a new laptop, okay?"

Becca didn't even try to argue with him because she knew it would do absolutely no good.

"Okay," she sighed.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jensen."

And together they drifted off into blissfull sleep.

<3333

#idk it seems like you're a great writer #thank you so much #i read this like 3x this morning #<3

[starbuckie]

Some Quarantine Lovin’ Epilogue: Always Be Together

Marvel Highschool! AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

Words: 2,943 words

A/N: Well, we’re at the end! Thank you so much to everyone who’s been following this series, as it’s my first fic, and is so special to me. Natasha’s story is also very personal, as I’m still trying to figure out how to tell my parents that I’m bisexual, and they’re kind of closed off to the LGBT+ community and can only hope for what I wrote for Natasha. As always, thank you to my badass beta @transparentfestivaltiger​ and I really hope you’ve enjoyed this journey with me, and that you all continue to stay safe and healthy. Love you <3

When the shelter in place order was lifted from New York, life went by so fast. Jobs slowly started to open up again, people picking up the pieces of their lives that had broken during quarantine. The cure still hadn’t been found yet, but hope still stayed strong within everyone’s heart. It had taken much longer for scientists and doctors to find the curative to the virus, but the day it was announced was one to remember. Happy cheers could be heard everywhere around Brooklyn, tears rushing down everyone’s faces, for those who had previously lost their loved ones to the virus and to new beginnings. The community all came together and they all knew they could be stronger coming out of the worldwide pandemic. 

The rest of high school went by fairly slowly, considering they had spent nearly a whole semester online. Everyone had trouble recovering from the effects of quarantine, but it got easier as they went along. Bucky and Becca both became part of the Rogers family easily, the endless stream of love and happiness radiating them all the time. Mrs. Rogers had been a motherly figure to him all his life, aspects of her reminding him of his own ma, and he was brothers with Steve, which was pretty great in his opinion. 

By the end of high school, Natasha had come out to her parents, which was something both of them tried their hardest to understand. The redhead was shocked when they told her that they should have known and that they were sorry if they had ever made her feel unloved or left out, a reaction she could have only dreamed of. Both of her parents were still trying to understand her and her needs to feel safe and comfortable, and though it wasn’t perfect, Natasha couldn’t be more grateful that her parents were trying. 

Throughout the rest of high school, the “Golden Boy Trio”, as the girls liked to call them, continued playing baseball together, all three of them getting scholarships in their junior year. Eventually, Sam was the only one who accepted his scholarship, as the two other boys had already planned what they wanted for their futures. 

The sweet couple, however, continued to grow together, both as people and a pair, falling deeper and deeper in love with each other every day. Yeah, that was something that was never-ending, no matter the circumstance. Y/N and Bucky went around the school known as the high school sweethearts, the two students who were irrevocably and completely infatuated with each other, and that was obviously fine with them.

By the time the end of their senior year rolled around, Steve was already dead set on joining the U.S. Army, something both of his parents were proud of, though terrified as hell for as well. Wanda and Sam were both headed for sunny California, her wanting to major in psychology and him on a full-ride baseball scholarship to UCLA. Natasha had been offered a chance to study under a fashion designer in France, so she ended up leaving just mere weeks after graduation, bringing lots of tears and promises to talk whenever she could. Bucky and Y/N though, they were staying in their home state of New York, both of them on scholarships to Columbia and NYU. After all, Bucky needed to look after Becca, who was five years old by then but already had an extreme attitude and a tendency to be very, very, clingy. Joseph and Sarah Rogers loved her even more for that.

Bucky and Y/N’s dorms weren’t far from each other, and they were happy that their relationship wasn’t long-distance. Study dates at coffee shops became frequent, and their love for each other only growing. Around their junior year of college, the couple was already having talks about getting married soon after their graduation. Both of them were planning on continuing for their masters at their respective schools, but after nearly six years of their relationship, they both knew that they wanted to be together for the rest of their lives. 

Kids had thoroughly been discussed though. After taking care of Becca since he was thirteen, he wasn’t rushing to have any of his own any time soon, and he made it clear that he wanted to wait until after college. After all, they hadn’t even graduated yet and still had five more years of their education left before Y/N went off to her internship. 

Oh, how quickly the tables had turned.

Y/N had managed to get pregnant at the very beginning of their final year as undergrads. She had freaked out, not knowing if Bucky would leave her, not knowing how the fuck it had happened, and what she would do with the baby. She had finally decided to keep it a secret for a few weeks, at least until she found out how to tell her boyfriend, but after she started to refuse drinks and get sick more often, Bucky grew suspicious. Now, James Barnes was a smart man. He had remembered when he was a teen and his mama was sick when she was pregnant with Becca, so naturally, he questioned his girlfriend. 

“Are you pregnant, Y/N?” Bucky asked her quietly. He didn’t seem mad, but his tone made it certain that he was dead serious. Taking a shaky breath and trying to hold back her tears for her own sake, she nodded her head and grasped his hands.

“Yes, James.” She sighed. “I’m pregnant. And,” Y/N took a deep breath, “I’m going to keep it.” Silence was all that surrounded the room. Normally, silence with the two of them was soft, it was comfortable, like a blanket of comfort and relaxation. But this was high-strung tension, uncertainty mixed with unsaid awkwardness. Bucky’s heavy sigh was all that was heard, and Y/N let go of his hands as he got up and left the room.

Y/N was in shock. Hand covering her mouth, her strangled sobs echoed back to her throughout the dorm. He’d surely tell her parents. Or would he want to even do anything with her? She was still in school, and she had to go to med school the next year. Her parents would never support this. God, what mess had she gotten herself into?

No more than fifteen minutes later, Bucky broke in through the front door, panting and nearly wheezing with the loss of air he had. However, he saw Y/N’s red, puffy eyes with her clearly wet cheeks and saw where he went wrong.

“I thought -hic- you left, Bucky.” He instantly wrapped his arms around his shaking girlfriend, his eyes filling with tears after realizing that he had hurt her. The one girl that meant the most to him in life, that he loved with his entire heart, and he’d been the one to make her cry.

“Doll, no, no, I promise you, I’m not going to leave you.” Bucky lowered the two of them to a laying down position on the couch, legs intertwined and chests pulled together. “I will never, ever leave you, and we’ll find our way through this together.”

Y/N rubbed at her eyes, relief filling her body at his words until she felt a sharp object poking into her hip. “Buck, what’s in your pocket?”

She noticed the sharp intake of breath he took. She noticed that he was fidgeting with the object in his pocket. She noticed that he was breathing rapidly. She noticed him getting on the floor, kneeling with an open box in his hand.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend. You have been for fourteen goddamn years, and you have seen me everywhere. My highs, my lows, when I was drunk off my ass puking in my bathroom and giving a speech at our high school graduation. You of all people know that I am a very organized person, but trust me, this is the one time you will see me unprepared. But, our lives have always been a little unconventional, haven’t they? We had our first kiss in the middle of a global pandemic because I was too scared to tell you that I liked you anytime in the six years before that. Our first time together was when we were eighteen at the Time Hotel in Times Square and we went in our pajamas to McDonald’s right after. And now we’re going to have a baby. I already know you’re going to be an amazing mother, and there’s no better time to do this than now.” Scooting closer to Y/N, he stared into her eyes, still red-rimmed from the crying, but a huge dopey smile plastered on her face. “I asked your parents for your hand last week and they said yes, so we have their blessing. Y/N L/N, the love of my life, will you please make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically and threw herself into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you, Bucky.” Bucky was crying at this point but he didn’t even try to wipe them away as he slipped the silver band onto her finger. She grasped his face in her cold hands and kissed him feverishly. “I love you, James.”

Smiling like a fool in love, which he was, he placed one last lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you too, Y/N.” Moving his hand down to her stomach, which hadn’t started showing, he rubbed it soothingly. “And I already love this little one too. How long have you known, baby?”

Y/N covered his hand with her own and let out a watery smile. “Three weeks. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I’m sorry I didn’t earlier.”

“No, no, no, baby, you have nothing to feel sorry for. I can understand why you felt scared, and I’m going to be honest, I am too. But we’ve gotten through so much together, what’s a little human compared to us?” Bucky grinned wider at hearing her sniffly giggle and he sat her on his lap on the wood floor of her NYU dorm.

“So who’s going to be the one to tell my mom and dad that you knocked me up and proposed to me?” His eyes widened and she laughed harder at the expression on his face. Sure, he didn’t want to face the wrath of her parents, but if it made Y/N happy, he’d do it with no hesitation at all.

The pregnancy was difficult during school. Especially because they went to different schools, Y/N struggled with being alone so much that she eventually moved back into her house with her parents. Bucky would always show up once a day when he knew that her courses were done, whether he could only stay a few minutes or the night, and talk to the baby. Though he'd previously said that he didn’t want kids until he was done with college, he’d been nothing but absolutely amazing and protective since finding out Y/N was pregnant. A bit too protective though. 

Three weeks before she was due, which was also right before their graduation, the couple started to get into more and more heated arguments. Bucky insisted that she needed to stay home and do absolutely nothing, but Y/N still had more finals she needed to take at school. Her stress from both hormones and classes got to her, and finally, she talked to her teachers, asking to just make the finals all in one day so she could go home earlier and not wait it out. It took some convincing, but they finally agreed and passed all her finals with flying colors, which made her cry with happiness.

Two days before graduation, little Winnie Sarah Barnes was born. After six hours of pain and screaming, Winnie came into the world happy as a clam. Y/N’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, Becca, and Natasha all came to support the happy couple. Wanda, Sam, and Steve couldn’t join this momentous occasion with them, but all three sent letters and called many, many times to see the precious baby.

The next four years of college went by fast with Winnie in the family. Y/N and Bucky finally got married, something everybody was able to attend. Steve had come back from his first tour by then to be the best man and Natasha as the maid of honor. It was very small, simple but elegant, and the new Barnes couple could not be any happier with how one of the happiest nights of their life went. Y/N graduated NYU at twenty-six with a Doctor of Medicine and applied for an internship at NYU Langone Medical Center while Bucky got offered a job as the creative writing teacher at the high school they went to. “Full circle, huh, baby?” He’d jokingly said to her after he got the email. And a full circle it was indeed.

2033

“Buck, we need to bring him. He really, really doesn’t wanna stay with MJ tonight.” Y/N ran around their shared Brooklyn apartment frantically, her crying son in her arms. Bucky and Y/N’s family was in absolute chaos. Bucky had come back from the high school late, Y/N nearly forgot to pick up Winnie from after school care, and their four-month-old son, Steve, did not want to be taken care of by the babysitter, MJ. Of course, their family was normally in disarray, with Y/N’s shifts at the hospital and Bucky’s demanding students, but tonight was their ten-year high school reunion, and between the four in their family, it was a disaster.

“Mommy, I can hold Stevie, you can go get dressed,” Winnie said in a quiet, sweet voice. Placing a delicate kiss on her head, Y/N thanked her and scurried off to get ready. Bucky was pretty prepared, looking handsome as always in his button-down blue shirt and black slacks, short brown hair combed neatly. “You look nice, daddy.” His daughter said while sitting on the couch next to him. He was about to thank her as she started speaking again, “For once.” 

Crinkling his nose playfully and gasping in mock offense, he took Steve from her arms and tickled her sides, breaking her into peals of giggles. “Do I not look nice all the time, sweetheart? I can’t believe my own baby daughter doesn’t think I’m handsome.” Y/N heard the laughter from the hallway as she headed towards the living room. 

“Well, my beautiful, beautiful husband, I think you look very handsome, like you always do.” Y/N quipped from the entrance. Bucky and Winnie turned their heads towards her, and both of their eyes widened. Letting out a low whistle, her husband’s eyes roamed her body in the appealing red dress and black heels. 

“Damn, hot mama,” Bucky readjusted Steve in his left arm and slid the other one to cheekily squeeze Y/N’s ass, “you look gorgeous.” Even after fourteen years of their relationship, Y/N couldn’t take one compliment, and heated up under her husband’s lustful gaze. 

“Mommy! Mommy! I wanna look pretty too, can I wear your heels later?” Laughing, Y/N picked Winnie up and spun her around quickly before pulling her into a crushing hug. “Ugh, mama, you’re going to break my spine.” 

Both Bucky and Y/N shared confused glances at their daughter’s sudden sass. “Where did you learn to get an attitude like that, missy?” Bucky asked.

“Auntie Becca, she always sasses the boys at her school, she says. She always tells me to ‘screw them over and have some fun with my ladies’.” Y/N nearly wheezed with how hard she was laughing, knowing of fifteen-year-old Becca’s sass. Bucky on the other hand was absolutely appalled that his younger sister was teaching his children these things. 

“Of course your Auntie Becca sasses the boys, she can’t keep her damn mouth shut to save her own life.” Bucky grumbled, making Y/N peck his cheek and grab his hand. 

“I called my mom, she says she and my dad can take the kids tonight, thank God.” Swatting his butt, she scooped Winnie up in her arms and started to make her way to the door. “You two are going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa tonight, does that sound good?” The little girl in her arms nodded excitedly, ready to be spoiled by her grandparents. 

After Bucky and Y/N dropped their kids off at her parent’s house, they rode to their old high school in comfortable silence, just the radio playing Bucky’s old Spotify playlists. 

“We’re going back to the place where we started.” Bucky said all of a sudden. Y/N shifted  in her seat to look at his with a raised eyebrow. 

“We met in third grade, baby, do you not remember that?”

Sighing, he took her hand in his and rubbed small circles on the back of her palm. “Well, I mean where we started. Like in a relationship, when we were sent home for quarantine, when I kissed you in your ma’s kitchen, and I took you on a date to Prospect Park.” Looking into each other’s eyes, the couple smiled. “We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we?”

Leaning over to kiss him, short and sweet, she replied, “Yeah, yeah we have.”

Riding the rest of the way in their blissful bubble of happiness, the couple reminisced about their freshman year of high school, all where their quarantine love had started. 

TAGLIST 

@transparentfestivaltiger @barnesjamcs @kitkatd7 @adorkably

#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #some quarantine lovin’ #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #reader insert #readerinsert #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #Sebastian Stan #Self Insert #sebstan #sebastianstan #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky x yn #bucky barnes x y/n #quarantine #coronavirus #covid 19 #covidー19 #highschool au #highschoolau #highschool!bucky

[godofplumsandthunder]

Ancient History Chapter 5

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Warning: Period Homophobia, nothing major but just putting this here for you.

A/N: This is chapter 5 of “Ancient History” for @the-marvel-horniest-book-club and the rest of the HBC’s sister blogs “Week of Love”. I combined last nights and today’s prompts though I did change last nights prompt of “First sleep over” to moving in, because Peter and Steve are close but not that close. Anyway, I loved writing this and can’t wait for tomorrow’s final chapter.

“Oh my God! It’s official! Move over Pony! Stucky is the official ship of the Avengers! Your story is too cute! And this is before Steve turns into those red, white, and blue popsicles, and Bucky becomes a murderous carebear! That’s it, I’m going to run for president, just so I can declassify all of this! This is so much more interesting than what they teach us now. No offense to Peggy, she seems like an amazing person, it’s just your love story is soooo boring. It’s like they just took Romeo and Juliet and changed it. Which, now that I think about it, that’s exactly what they did. Two dimensional growth. Anyway, what happens next?!”

Steve looks at Bucky, confused. “Don’t look at me popsicle, I’m a murderous care bear.”

“Geez, Petey, thanks, I guess. Don’t know if I should be offended or grateful. What happens next, well it's equal parts happiness and terror. Besides a few times in the war, this has been one of my most fearful experiences.”

This gets Peter a little bit too excited. “Yes! Finally! No offense this has been absolute tooth rotting fluff. Or at least that’s what the tag would be on this story.”

Steve and Bucky stare Peter down, because yikes, someone’s a little too happy for some angst. This causes Peter to blush, turning beet red from embarrassment.

“Uhm… That’s not what I mean. I know that this is your guys life and it’s wrong of me to wish bad stuff on you guys it’s just… Like everything was going smooth. Like that doesn’t even happen in my own life with powers. So it’s nice to see that you’re normal too and that…”

“Spidey, we get it. Just you were a little too excited. But you’re right. We do look at the past with these rose colored glasses. But I now know what Steve’s thinking of, and he’s right. It was a scary experience for us Peter. You have to remember when we lived. And as we tell you this that this whole story could have ended a lot worse. But relax kid, and sit back. You’re safe from this murderous care bear, for now.

----- Walking back home to Steve’s apartment, Bucky is exploding with excitement. He literally can’t wait to tell Steve the good news. A few months back at work, there was an accident at the docks and one of the higher up workers had to leave his position. Of course all of the workers felt terrible for this man, but they were also realistic. They were in the middle of a depression, and this accident opened up a possibility for one of them to be promoted to a better paying job. And Bucky he wanted, no needed, this job. Just a few months ago, Sarah passed away. Steve says he’s fine living by himself, but Bucky wants to be there for Steve. He wants their own place where they can make their own memories together. Be a couple and do couple things without fear of someone reporting them. Bucky was determined to get that promotion. He worked his ass off, staying longer, doing more. Trying to do anything so his boss would see him. It strained his relationship with Steve (he wanted to keep all of this a secret. He didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up over nothing. That’d be worse for his heart. Though thankfully, Bucky got that promotion and was on his way to talk to Steve. He already put in an application for an apartment that the both of them liked, they just didn’t have the money then, but now, they did.

“Stevie? You here?” Bucky calls out as he hangs his jacket on the coat rack as he goes to find Steve.

“Yeah, in here, drawing!” Steve calls out from his art room, which was a closet they were able to convert. Mainly because of how small Steve was.

“Hey, punk. What’re you working on?”

Steve sets down his brush and stretches, “O’Leary wants some art done on his windows for Christmas. He’s paying 25 whole dollars for it!”

Bucky whistles, “good hell Stevie! You keep drawing like that, we’ll be in a mansion in no time.”

Steve chuckles, “well, don’t go buying no mansions quite yet. Anyway why are you home early?”

Bucky holds his hand, and leads Steve to the couch. “Well, I’m glad that you asked. You remember that apartment we looked at?”

“Yes, and I also remember we don’t have the money for it.”

Bucky squeezes his hand. “Well, you remember that accident we had at work. I got the promotion! I applied for that apartment and we got it too! We’re going to have our own place honey!”

Leaning in Steve kisses him. “So proud of you Buck. All the hard work you do. Now, use some of that work and help me start packing.”

The move in went great. Neither of the boys had too much stuff, and George, Bucky’s dad, was able to find a pickup truck and take over their boxes. The apartment was a 2 bedroom, so to his family, Steve was a roommate to help with bills.

Once they finally had everything settled in, Bucky and Steve decided to invite Becca, Bucky’s sister, over for some dinner. It’d be a great way to “break-in” their apartment. Bucky was making his special depression soup. The ingredients were relatively cheap, but he somehow worked his Bucky magic to make it taste great. He’s adding his finishing touches as he listens to Becca tell Steve all about her day. Luckily her job survived the depression so she still had some form of income. Wiping his hands with a kitchen towel, Bucky made his way over to Steve, plopping down next to him.

“Dinner’s just finishing up. Should be done here soon.” Bucky says as Steve leans in and kisses Bucky on the cheek. Something they’ve done so many times it’s a habit. But as Steve realizes what he’s done. They both freeze. Sure, Becca is family, but they’ve read the news. Stories about how a person’s own parents report them, thinking jail and hard labor is going to save their child.

They’re petrified due to their fear. Bucky stutters, trying to salvage their safety.

“Becs, it’s not what it looks like. We’re-”

Becca chuckles as she grabs Bucky’s hand.

“What, you think I’m going to turn you in? We’ve known since you were 16. Hell, even Sarah knew. She’d come and talk to Ma and they both would fret over you two. Your secret is safe with me. I’m just glad that the both of you are happy.”

Steve chokes up a little, “My ma, she knew?”

Becca smiles softly as she holds Steve’s hand. “Of course she did. And from what I heard, she was so proud of you. Saying it’s a damn shame you can’t get married. That’s all she ever wanted, you know. Was for you to be happy.”

This brought an odd sense of closure to Steve, one that Bucky was happy he got. The timer went off, loudly in the quiet room, scaring all of them.

Bucky jumps up and makes his way to the kitchen.

“Well, now that little scare is over, time to eat!”

#the hbc #hbc week of love #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky fluff #stucky fluff #idiots in love

[kristinee]

Princess

Pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Road Head (this is dangerous, please be safe), Unprotected Sex (stay protected or you’ll get infected, Y/N is on birth control yktv), Topper calls you Princess constantly, Praise, I know it’s smut but like, its cute

Word Count: 1.7K

Request: “can you write an imagine with topper where you guys become like the kook prince and princess and you guys go to midsummers and it gets heated😏 and then he takes you home to finish what he started so basically smut with topper loll”

A/N: I know Topper had such bad tendencies but I kinda fell in love with him. He’s such a cutie and I feel he really sacrificed himself in the end because he loved Sarah so much he wanted to truly see her be happy even if it meant being with someone else. Anyway enough with the fluffy Topper stuff. I didn’t edit this or read it over cause I was rushing slightly. This is my first smut so enjoy.

It was your favorite day of the year, Midsummers. A day where you could dress up and be around your people, the kooks that is. It was even better this year though because you finally had a boyfriend to escort you which was always something you had wanted since you were a little girl, seeing these beautiful girls walk around like princesses. It was all you wanted and you hoped this would be your year now that you qualified to be in the running for Kook royalty. This year you were nominated alongside your boyfriend Topper, you had promised him an extra special surprise, win or lose. With those ideas pumping you took a while on deciding which dress suited you best. You decided on a beautiful silk dress that hugged all your curves and even had a leg slit, enough modesty for your family but enough exposure to prepare Top for a night of teasing. With your dress fitted, heels on and makeup done it was time to go so your family drove up and immediately went about their business but you met Topper in the lobby, his suit was color coordinated to match your dress and you couldn’t help but smile at the little things he did to make you happy. “Is that my girl?” he whistled as he saw you walk in. “Give me a little twirl” You laughed at the comment but did it anyways, twirling into his arms. 

Everyone had always told you not to get with him, that he had dated Sarah Cameron and you’d never be what she was but he quickly debunked those rumors. You guys were perfect for each other and as soon as he and Sarah split he became such a sensitive, considerate guy and you couldn’t be more thankful that he was no longer the asshole everyone knew him as. Topper Thornton.

By the time you finished in the lobby, it was time to hear Kook Royalty results. You were up against some of your friends and you didn’t want to sound stuck up but you and Top were the best couple there, or well, the least fake. These girls were in it for the money and the idea of being seen with some preppy athletic idiot or the guys being seen with some barbie doll. It was nice knowing you’d never have to worry about being that stupid. You were literally shaken out of your thoughts when you felt Topper’s hand on your shoulders. “Y/N we won. Hello?” You blinked a few times, looking at the huge smile on his face. Even if you had just thought about all the good things you remembered most of all how arrogant he was. You were in for a night of him showing off his Princess which meant he was in for something even more annoying.

The party went off great and it had probably been the best Midsummer’s so far and by this time the dance floor was full of teens while the adults were upstairs in the country club to get away from the noise and you could finally be a little more touchy with Topper without worrying about your dad giving him a death stare. An upbeat song came on and the timing couldn’t have been better as you pulled Top in close behind you, pressing him up to your backside. You felt his hot breath down your neck as he exhaled and placed his hands on your hips. The rhythmic swaying and little bit of alcohol you snuck fueled something fierce inside you and it was only a matter of time before you proposed a genius idea. “Hey babe.” his swaying stopped. “What’s up, are you good?” 

“Yeah yeah I’m fine, I was just thinking. What if I told my parents I was sleeping over at Becca’s house and you just take me to yours since I know your parents like to get drunk and stay at that fancy hotel down the way.” You didn’t even need him to speak to get a reaction. His body did it for him as his dick hardened at the thought, he knew what you were after. “You know..” his mouth came closer to your ear. “I think that would be fantastic Princess.” Just the name was already causing a heat between your thighs. “Okay, I’m gonna go let them know. Meet me at your car.” As you walked away you felt his eyes on you. He was ready to take you right there.

After explaining the plan to your drunken parents you headed straight for Top’s car. It was easy to spot in a crowd mostly because of how nice it was, being new and all. If he didn’t care so much about the leather seats and the suede lining you would’ve fucked him there but that made the drive all the more fun. It was only a few minutes in until his hand found it’s way to your thigh and you found yours on his. You couldn’t deny that you were beginning to get needy but it was starting to become overwhelming. He had been focused on his driving the whole time so you were waiting for a good window to open up so you could flirt a little and get him riled up but as soon as the window opened, it was slammed shut with a call from Rafe. “Hey dude what’s up, I’m just on my way home right now.” The frustration was getting to you so you decided you’d show Topper just how frustrated you were. Your hand was still resting on his leg until you decided it was time to move as you slowly began to rub his thigh in circles, moving inside his thigh, just slightly brushing his cock with the edge of your hand. His eyes shot toward you and you innocently smiled continuing the slight motion. “Uh yeah I’m still here, say that one more time.” With the plan in action, you moved up your hand, now rubbing his cock. He was already fully hard as you heard a little groan slip through his lips. “Oh yeah I’m good, my head’s just hurting real bad. Those shots did me in. I’m down the street from my house though.” You weren’t. “So I’ll talk to you tomorrow, see ya” You bent over the gearshift, shifted yourself to get comfortable as you planted a kiss on his cheek while undoing his belt. It was risky to do while he was on the road but there was no traffic this time of night and Topper was one for risk. “Are you okay with this babe?” you sat back on your feet before going down again. His hand caressing your cheek before gathering your hair in his hand and pulling you in for a kiss. You’d take that as a yes. His belt had already been undone so you pulled down his zipper. You pulled down his boxers and his slacks in one go. You took a second to just admire it before spitting on your hand and wrapping it around his cock, pumping it up and down. “Mmm, that feels so good.” You began to swirl the tip with your tongue before he hand bobbed your head up and down. “That’s it baby, we’re almost home.” You moaned just enough to get a reaction out him as he groaned once again, stopping the car in his empty driveway. You slid your mouth off his cock, wiping the spit from the ends of your mouth and pulling up his pants. You got out of the car and headed for the door. You’d never seen someone unlock a door so fast. You both threw down any extra belongings you had by the door and ran upstairs to his room. It was a beautiful place and his room was no exception. He had a massive bed with an ocean view terrace. You guys had definitely fucked there a few times.

The door closed behind both of you as you pushed Topper back on the bed. “Let me take off my dress, I paid too much to get cum stains on it.” You both laughed before you stripped it down along with your heels. He stripped too, all but his boxers “I’m so glad I get to call this mine.” Top sat up, wrapping his hands around your waist and bringing you down on top of him. You straddled his waist as you planted hot kisses on his neck down to his abs. You stopped right above his underwear. “I think I need to finish what I started.” You pulled his boxers down yet again, continuing the process until Top’s grip on your hair pulled you up off of him and up to his face. You could feel his heart beating with the closeness as your lips connected in a passionate kiss. You stopped for a moment of silence, only filled by heavy breathing. “I..fucking...love you.” the phrase that fell from his mouth ignited many things inside you. Your hips pressed together, preparing for the moments to come. “I love you too baby, let me show you just how much.” Your hand moved down your own chest to your heat. Moving to grab his cock as you positioned it below your entrance. You slowly lowered down, adjusting to his size. “Fuck” You’d done this a few times before but it felt new each and every time. Topper set his hands on your hips and began to help you move up and down. The sounds of skin coming together and moans and groans were beginning to fill the room. Your hands exploring each other's bodies. 

He soon flipped you over so he was on top. His eyes looking down all over your body “Tell me what you want Y/N.” “Please just fuck me.” His eyes lit up as he positioned himself back inside you moving even harder and faster than before. “You make me feel so good baby” You felt yourself on edge. “I’m so close,” you were breathing harder than before and everything just felt so hot and heavy “Me too, cum with me.” Your breath synced as you both reached your high. He pulled himself and laid there with you, arms wrapped around each other “Love you Princess” “Love you too Top.” The hug tightened and you two stayed there until you fell asleep.

#outerbanks #outer banks #obx #outer banks netflix #outerbanksedit #topper thornton #topper obx #outerbanks smut #outer banks smut #austin north #austinnorthedit #request #ask #my writing

[louhooo]

If I Didn't Care

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky finally catches a break.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Like, a handful of swear words, SO MUCH FLUFF AND SO MANY FEELINGS

A/N: I’ve been on quarantine for the last week and I was in a 1940s Bucky mood 🤷‍♀️ This and this inspired me.

As always, feedback is a very much appreciated and welcomed!!! 💘💘💘

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tok…

The wooden clock, the last thing you had of your granddad’s, sat nestled atop the pink crocheted doily Becca made for you four years ago. She claimed crocheting took her mind off of “it”.

You wrote to him when Becca gave it to you, telling him all about how talented his sister was and how he needed to hurry home so he could boast her up, too.

That’s how you were in the early letters; lighthearted. Blithe. Unfettered that Bucky was thousands of miles away, acting as though he was still at camp in Indiana. Steadfast on the notion that he would be home soon, and you could have your fella back.

Bucky read that particular letter for a few weeks while he was stuck in a trench. Some soldiers ribbed him about the “lovesick look” he gave the pieces of paper. Others shared an understanding pat on his back, as they themselves had memorized every word their sweethearts back home had wrote for them.

He tried writing back to you a few times, tried coming up with something smart to say that he knew would make you laugh… but he couldn’t. He was tired. And scared. And wanted to be home more than he could truthfully tell you.

I’m sorry it’s takin’ me so long, honey. I keep tryin’ to tell ya about what’s going on here, but I can only tell you so much… and none of it is anything you’d want to hear, anyways.

I just miss you, sweetheart. More than you know.

All my love,

Bucky

Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, 107th

Two weeks later he was captured. 

You stirred beside him, pulling Bucky from long ago memories and into the present. He rolled to his side, gazing at you, memorizing the curve of your exposed back in the early morning light. You clutched the pillow under your arms, a soft hum coming from you.

You took a deep breath, stretching toes as you turned your head away from the window, not ready for the day to begin. Your face scrunched as you dared to open one eye, only to be met with a steely gaze and deep circles, and a warm smile that tried convincing you everything was perfect. You slid your hand across the bed until you met the warmth of his calloused hand and squeezed halfheartedly.

“Why’re you awake?” His smile deepened as he rubbed his thumb over your smooth skin.

“How can I sleep when there’s an angel next to me? If I sleep, I’ll miss it.” A sleepy grin spread on your face, and you huffed a laugh through your nose.

“You’re a real charmer, Barnes.”

“Only for you, sugar.” Bucky felt your hand tighten in his, and he moved your hands towards his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the curve of your finger. You sighed contently and closed your eyes, sleep still fresh in your mind.

“What time is it?” You asked, your face half smushed against the pale blue linen. His other hand brushed the loose curls from your face, the tips of his fingers following the smoothness of your skin down your back.

“Almost six.” You hummed, in acknowledgement or pleasure, he wasn’t sure.

“Can we stay in bed forever?” He grinned and leaned over to kiss your shoulder.

“As long as you don’t hog the covers.” He laid on his back as he watched another lazy grin spread on your face.

“No promises.” Down below, the city was starting to stir, meaning the illusion of peace would be coming to an end for the time being. You groaned and pulled yourself closer to Bucky, seeking his warmth. “We hafta get up soon, don’t we?” Bucky chortled as you squinted up at him.

“’Fraid so, sweetheart.” You groaned softly and dropped your head onto the plains of his chest. He chuckled and rubbed his palm down the back of your head, smoothing your hair. You tilted your head and looked up at him, a tired pout on your face.

“Can you promise me now that we won’t make any plans for the weekend? I need 48 continuous hours with my husband.” An effortless chuckle vibrated in his chest and he stared at you with hearts in his eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.” Happy with his answer, you pushed yourself up, your lips landing on his, quieting the storm that lingered in Bucky’s thoughts. You started to pull away, but Bucky pulled you back in, cupping your face and kissing you like it was the first time. One hand stayed on the bed to keep your balance and the other laid on top of his hand, your fingers going over the metal band on his finger. You pulled back with a gasp, air filling your lungs.

You gazed at each other as you both worked to control your breathing, both forgetting that you needed to start getting ready for the day.

“If you keep kissin’ me like that, we’ll be late and—” Bucky pulled you back, swallowing your words before they had a chance to pass your lips. You moved so he could hover over you and he settled between your legs, rolling his hips.

The day could wait a little while longer.

“Buck?” Bucky blinked, subconsciously shaking his head as he turned to look at Steve. 

“Yeah?” Steve studied the man beside him, fear visibly seeping through Bucky’s pores. 

Silent fear. 

Fear that would never be spoken about to anyone, not even Steve. 

Bucky adjusted the hat on his lap and cleared his throat, hoping that distracting himself would make the situation easier.

Steve let out a tired sigh and settled in the spot beside his friend.

“Think your mom made her apple pie for us?” Bucky huffed a laugh, an easy grin spreading across his face. 

“Hell… I don’t even remember what it tastes like anymore. Hope she made two, ‘cause I’m not sharing any with you.” They both laughed, loud and freely.

Steve continued before he could stop himself. “Do you think Y/N’s gonna be able to leave the hospital?” Bucky’s laughter quieted, his grin fading away into the frown he’d had the entirety of the boat ride home. 

“Yeah. Her last letter said she would.” Bucky had written a letter to his mom, telling her to let you know you didn’t have to be there when they docked, that he’d understand if you were too busy. He shouldn’t have been surprised when just two and a half weeks later, he found a letter from you sitting on his bed.

Foolish.

Utterly stupid.

Completely moronic.

Those were just some of the things you called him in your seven page letter. And Bucky knew it. A part of him knew you’d show, and you had probably talked with the other nurses as soon as you heard his return date so that they’d help cover for you so that you’d be able to be there.

He knew that.

But the other, louder part of him feared that you wouldn’t be there. That, at some point in the years since you had last seen each other, you fell in love with someone new and just couldn’t tell him over writing. 

You can’t break up with someone in writing, Bucky, you had told him his last night home, so if you wanna break up, you have to do it now. But save your breath because I won’t accept it anyways.

Or, maybe what he feared most would be how you looked at him. Would you still see him as the same kid he was when he left, or would you only see the shell of who was left?

Someone shouted about seeing the Statue of Liberty and the ship broke out in cheers.

They were home.

Cloudy, warm water sat in the basin as Bucky took long, steady strokes down his face. He hadn’t shaved in almost a week, much to his mother’s dismay. When she dropped off a casserole earlier in the week, she, in that way that mothers do, stared in quiet disappointment at his jaw, never saying a word, but getting her point across perfectly.

Bucky finished shaving and wiped his face with a fresh towel and stared at himself in the mirror, resting his hands on the cool porcelain, his fingers curling over the edge. The circles under his eyes seemed darker and more noticeable with no beard to take all the attention.

“Honey?” You knocked on the door twice as a courtesy, and pushed the bathroom door open, “I finished ironing your shirt.” You smiled and brought in a cup of coffee just how he liked it. “It’s hanging up on the door.” You hummed in subdued surprise and stepped into the small yellow bathroom and smiled at Bucky in the mirror, your free hand running across his lower back as you stood beside him. “You look nice.”

Bucky grinned as he took the mug from your hand and took a drink, the hot beverage instantly soothing his mind.

“Thanks, baby.” He set the coffee down on the shelf under the mirror and took the drain out of the sink, setting the stopper up to dry. Your fingers ghosted over his left shoulder and he tensed, inhaling sharply. His head turned quickly and he stared at you, an apologetic grimace on your face.

“Sorry… Are they botherin’ you?” You stared closely at the angry scars that littered his arm, looking for any sign of irritation that might be causing his discomfort. 

He knew what you meant. Wanted to know if they were hurting him in any way, not just tangibly. After Switzerland, doctor’s had been able to save his arm, but the scars and pain that it left him made him wonder if it was worth it. They told him he suffered damage to his nerves, so he’d never be able to use his left arm the same way.

But when his arm started to heal a few weeks after his surgery, the doctors were bewildered. 

Amazing, they’d told him. 

It wasn’t. Not really. It was just another reminder of what he went through when he was captured.

“No… they’re fine.” Your eyes flashed to his, giving him chance to change his answer. “I’m just anxious about my interview.”

“Oh, Buck, you’re gonna knock it outta the park! I guarantee they don’t let you leave without hiring you on the spot!” You turned to face each, taking his hands in yours. He squeezed your hands and watched his thumb rub over your knuckles.

“What do I tell ‘em? ‘My wife thinks I’m great, so you hafta hire me?’” You chuckled and shook your head.

“No, just tell ‘em I make the best chocolate cake, so they be glad they hired you come the holidays.” Bucky chortled, skimming his thumb over the gold band on your finger. “Tell them you’re the best mechanic they’re ever going to find, and not hiring you would be the dumbest thing they could do,” you pulsed your hands, “I can go to lunch early if you want me to walk with you to the interview?” Bucky let out a long sigh and finally met your gaze.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want you to be late gettin’ back to the hospital.”

“’S not that big o’ deal. I’ll have one of the girls cover for me if I’m not back.” He gave you that soft smile, that smile that told you he wanted to tell you no, but didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You took a deep breath and studied him, reaching up to wipe the small bit of shaving cream that lingered by his ear. “Fine… I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” a gentle kiss to your forehead and you separated, Bucky taking his coffee and going to the bedroom to get dressed. You stared at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you were simply making up the annoyance Bucky held for you, or if it was factual, and now he was stuck with someone who pestered him. 

He’ll talk to you if he wants to, Y/N, your friends affirmed, don’t take it personally. My Johnny does the same thing. They all do it.

Not Bucky. 

Your Bucky shared his soul with you years ago, and now he was hiding it from you, and nothing hurt you more.

Bucky left the apartment at the same time as you, not needing to, but not knowing what else to do with his time if he stayed at the apartment. 

He showed up at the auto repair shop two hours early and settled on the bench just outside the front door, attempting to read the newspaper he bought on the way there.

It was going terribly.

He wasn’t able to get past the first paragraph without getting caught up in his thoughts and losing focus. He tried reading about the new player the Dodgers just bought thirty times before he gave up and watched the birds up in the trees.

The bell chimed above the door and an older man in grease covered denim coveralls, wiping his hands with a rag, stood in the doorway looking Bucky up and down.

“You here for the interview?” Bucky stood up quickly, smoothing out his brown suit and taking off his hat, holding it to his stomach.

“Yes, sir.” He raised a brow.

“You’ve been sittin’ out here for nearly an hour. Don’t have anything better to do?”

“My wife told me if I break her radio again, she’ll put me out on the street.” The man chuckled, still wiping grease and grime from his hands. He stuffed the rag into his back pocket and extended his right hand to Bucky.

“I’m Walter, but everyone calls me Walt.”

“James, but friends call me Bucky.”

“Ya got a strong grip. Well, Bucky, come with me, we’ll go to my office.” Bucky grabbed the newspaper and folded it quickly, following Walt through the front door. They took a short walk through the garage and went into Walt’s office that sat in the back corner of the shop, giving him the best view of everything in the garage. Walt motioned for Bucky to sit in one of the worn wooden chairs in his office and shut the door behind them. 

“I didn’t mean to make ya change your schedule for me. I woulda waited until it was time.” Walt chuckled gruffly, waving Bucky off as he sat in his swivel chair, the wood creaking as he settled.

“I felt sorry for ya. Guys were makin’ bets on how long it’d take ya to come inside.” Bucky chuckled, shrugging off his embarrassment.

“Who won?”

“Me. They’re out gettin’ me a Coke as we speak!” Bucky laughed and relaxed in his chair, his nerves not consuming him for the moment. “So, tell me about yourself, Bucky.” Bucky rattled off facts about himself: where he served, what he did overseas, how long he was overseas, and where he got his training when he got back home. Walt raised his hand, cutting Bucky off. Bucky stopped talking and Walt lowered his hand, resting it on the arm of his chair. “You said you had a wife?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Y/N.”

“How long you been married?”

“Got married last May when I got back from vocational school.”

“Any kids?” Bucky shook his head.

“Not yet.”

“Did you meet her when you got home?” An easy grin made its way to Bucky’s face and shook his head.

“No, I’ve known her since we were kids.” Walt’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“She must really like you if she let you make her wait that long.” Bucky chuckled.

“I’ll tell ya Walt, I’ve had pretty stubborn women around me all my life, but she takes the cake.” Walt laughed, the deep sound echoing in the small office. “I lost count how many times I asked her to marry me, and I almost had her convinced, but then the war happened,” he shrugged his hands, “and then there were other things to do. She told me we could get married when I got home. Said it’d give me somethin’ to look forward to.” Bucky huffed, “She still made me wait until after I was done with training.”

“She work?”

“She’s a nurse at Kings County up on Clarkson.” Walt hummed. “You married?”

Walt took a deep breath, holding the edge of his desk as though he was steadying himself. “Lucy and I have been married for about twenty five years. We have ten kids, six sons, four girls.” Bucky couldn’t stop his eyes from going wide.

“Doesn’t sound very quiet at your house.” Walt chuckled and leaned back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee.

“Some days are better than others… I still wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world, though.” Bucky grinned, heartened by the sentiment. Walt let out a sigh, “Well, Bucky… you’ve got the training I’m lookin’ for, so, tell me, why should I hire you?” Bucky took a deep breath. 

Tell them you’re the best mechanic they’re ever going to find, and not hiring you would be the dumbest thing they could do.

“Truthfully, you’re not gonna find a better mechanic.” Walt raised his brows. “I’m hardworking and someone you can count on to show up and get the job done. I’m the best there is.” Walt blinked. 

“So…” Walt started, “let me get this right…. You’re tellin’ me, that you’re a better mechanic than myself, someone who’s been a mechanic for over twenty years?” White, hot fear started coursing through Bucky’s body.

He swallowed thickly, his stomach dropping, “Uh… yes, sir?”

The men continued to stare at one another, Bucky preparing himself to be thrown out on his face, if he wasn’t pummeled first.

Could Walt see the sweat on his lip?

What were you going to say when he came home with a broken nose and no job?

Would you finally regret marrying him?

You were nervous.

You had expected that Bucky would call the hospital after his interview and tell you how it went, good or bad. You knew what time his interview was, and the more and more time that passed without hearing anything from him was starting to worry you. You finished up your charts for the night nurse and as soon as the last ‘i’ was dotted and ‘t’ crossed, you grabbed your bag and said your goodbyes for the weekend.

You walked down the stairwell and out of the staff exit, coming to a halt as soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the door shutting behind you. There was Bucky, still in his brown suit, leaning against the wall with that boyish smile you’d fallen in love with.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He stepped closer, pulling a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. You gasped softly and took the flowers as he handed them to you. “How are you?” He kissed your cheek and you stared at him, trying to decipher his mood.

“Hi, honey,”  he held his arm out for you and your suspicions quieted, a bashful grin forming on your face. You took his arm and you both fell into a leisurely pace as you walked home. “This is a nice surprise.” You smiled at him, adjusting the grip on the bouquet. Bucky, without being asked, reached for the flowers and held them in his left hand, freeing your hand.

“I just missed you,” he turned his head and grinned, “and I realized it’s been a while since I walked you home from work.” Your hold tightened around his arm and you could feel the hearts grow in your eyes.

“It’s not my birthday, is it? Our anniversary maybe?” Bucky smirked at you out of the corner of his eye, knowing what you were hinting at.

“No, ma’am. It’s just an ordinary Friday.” You hummed, forcing your eyes ahead.

“Strange.” He hummed in agreement and you shook your head good naturedly and walked in silence with all of the city noise. You came to a stop after a few minutes, waiting for traffic to pass. You looked at him, “I’m gonna hafta ask, aren’t I?” Bucky looked at you nonchalantly.

“Ask about what?” You gave him an exacerbated look, a laugh escaping his mouth. 

You laughed with him, “Tell me! The suspense has been getting’ to me all day!” Bucky laughed more, the creases by his eyes deepening. 

“We’ll hafta stop at the grocery store before we go home.” He led you across the street, ignoring your expectant glances.

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you don’t tell me—”

“Ask me what we needta get at the store.” He raised his brows at you keenly. You stared back at him, blinking a few times before you sighed and gave in.

“What do we need to buy at the store, honey?”

“Flour. We’re almost out.” Your face twisted, visibly confused by what Bucky was talking about.

“We don’t needta get flour? I’m not makin’ anything.”

“Well, I kinda already told the guys at the shop you make the best chocolate cake, so I really don’t wanna show up empty handed on Monday morning.” You came to a standstill just in front of the grocery store, pulling Bucky to a stop as well. You stared at him with big eyes.

“You got the job?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the commotion of rush hour. Bucky simply smiled, and you knew. You squealed and threw your arms around his neck, the shock of which made Bucky drop the flowers on the ground so he could catch you. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight, unaffected by the stares of everyone around them.

How could he be bothered with you in his arms?

As soon as you were home from the store, and everything had been put away and the roses put into a vase, you and Bucky sat at the kitchen table and he recounted his day. You listened attentively, a permanent grin fixed on your face. When he was done, you stood leaning over to kiss his lips.

“I’m so happy for you, baby.” Bucky smiled and gingerly pulled your hand until you settled on his lap. You sat contently with your legs crossed, and combed back his hair with your nails adoringly.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You continued to scratch his scalp tenderly as he rubbed his hand over your lower back. He chuckled to himself, “Ya know, I was half worried you’d leave if I didn’t get the job.” Bucky watched the smile on your face slowly fall, his own grin disappearing at the loss of yours. You stopped pushing your fingers through his hair and sat back so as to see him clearer.

“What?” Bucky started to stammer.

“Well, I-I just mean that, ya know… I’m your husband. I’m supposed to take care of you, a-and I can’t treat ya how I’m supposed to when the jobs I find barely pay enough to put food on the table or a roof over your head.” When Bucky got home from overseas, he was less than willing to take any stipends the government was giving to veterans. Every dime Bucky received went directly into savings, even when everyone tried convincing him he should use it. He wasn’t going to use that money unless he absolutely had to.

I’m not gonna need it, he’d told everyone, I’ll just go back to the factory and pick up my old job.

When he’d gone to the factory, he realized that wasn’t the only guy in Brooklyn looking for work. Steve and the other Commandoes tried helping him, telling Bucky to stay with the S.S.R like them, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t when he finally had you back. He couldn’t risk it, even if the pay would have been able to give you the life you deserved.

After he finished training, he started calling every auto repair shop in the phone book, asking if they needed a new mechanic. After eleven phone calls that ended in rejection, Bucky was defeated. Slowly, when the small jobs he found on construction yards weren’t enough, the savings started to go, and you subtly started working a few more hours every week.

Bucky was beginning to wonder if the crease between your eyes was going to be permanent.

“Honey?” You blinked and took a long, steadying breath.

“Have I ever told you that I don’t feel like you treat me right, or that you don’t take care of me?”

“Well, I—” You gave him a firm look and he stopped himself.

“Yes or no.” Bucky let out a deep sigh.

“No, ma’am.”

You nodded your head. “No, I haven’t, you’re right. Because I have never once thought that about you, Bucky. Not once. And I think you know full well that I would have told if I had.” Bucky stared glumly at the ground, taking the reprimand in silence.

“I just wanna be able to buy you new dresses if you want them, or finally get you a real ring. I’m gonna be able to do that now with what they’ll pay me at the shop.”

“Bucky, I know you think I’m embarrassed to ask my friends for hand-me-downs, or that I’m upset that I never got a flashy engagement ring like my friends or the other nurses… but I’m not. I’ve been wearing hand-me-downs since I was ten years old, Buck. Why on earth would I start getting embarrassed now? And, as far as I’m concerned, the ring on my hand is just right, because you gave it to me, and that’s all I wanted.” You cupped his jaw tenderly, lifting it until he was looking at you. “You will always be what I want, James.” 

You felt Bucky melt in your hand, and he sighed, resting his head on your chest. He breathed you in, and you continued to sit in each other’s quiet embrace, the sounds of your heart beat steady and strong in his ear.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky x Reader #Bucky x Y/N #Bucky x You #1940s Bucky #Bucky Barnes

[utterlyinevitable]

On The Subject of Love

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao)  Word Count: 3.3k Warning: Tame. A few curse words and mentions of sex.  Summary: Becca coaxes Ethan into talking about his experience with love during their visit to Leland Bloom's yacht.  

Author’s Note: this took waaaaay too long to write and i’m still not sure i’m happy with it :/ but thank you @aylamwrites for pre-reading and leaving hilarious comments ❤

________________________________________

The drive to Leland Bloom’s yacht was staid, a direct contrast to the glorious sunshine surrounding the bubble of the sedan. Ethan was navigating the unfamiliar route to the private yacht club with extreme disdain. His ego wanted to resolve this case and finally put an end to this petulant competition with Mass Kenmore Hospital. Sitting in the passenger seat of his car was his favorite accomplice, Becca, calmly staring blankly out the window and still so unsure of his feelings towards her. 

She knew she riled him up when she went behind his back to seek out the first high-profile patient, influencer Gwenyth Monroe. Though, in her defense, the man wasn’t actively trying to save the Diagnostics Team from the budgetary chopping block. Ethan Ramsey was always so blinded by his pride and ethics - He did the same with their future as well. But, Becca also knew she stepped over the line this morning when she called him a spoiled child in front of Baz and June at Mr. Bloom’s estate. Though she didn't really regret it because someone had to tell him off, the interaction still left a bad taste in her mouth. 

Becca wasn’t too sure where they stood - professionally or romantically. The words Ethan spoke not too long ago in the dark of his office rang through her head: I want to know you as you truly are. 

That was a few weeks ago. There he was breaking down their simply professional facade once again. It was a constant tug-of-war with him. Some days Ethan would let the wall crumble by letting her in or grabbing her hand, and others where he’d build it higher than before just to keep the force of Becca at bay. She didn’t realize how sweet of a memory the two of them creating his Pictagram account during that late-night research session would become. 

He’s such an old man… 

Ethan cut through her reverie, “What are you thinking about?” 

With her gaze fixed on the passing trees and her mind still half-stuck in her daydream, she responded without further consideration, “Do you really never want to get married?”  

Ethan’s brow furrowed at the random intrusion, needing to think before settling on a response. “Are you still stuck on this?”

The two sometimes-lovers spoke briefly about his views on the subject while working on Gwenyth’s case late into the evening. To Becca it was one of the most important questions in building their not-so-subtle budding relationship - she needed to know if Ethan was worth all the… complications. He spoke about how he didn’t believe in soulmates, unconditional love, and his doubts on marriage as an intuition. He never once spoke about his experience with love.   

Looking out the window into the cloudless end of summer day, Becca boldly asked, “Haven’t you ever been in love? Wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone you’ve dated?” 

“Oh god, no,” he scoffed with wide pale blue eyes. “I told you, Rookie, I don’t see the point.”

She rolled her disbelieving brown eyes and let the conversation pause there as they pulled up to the dock. 

***

After the yacht set sail the doctors waited around the stern in a restive silence for 45 minutes while Mr. Bloom wrapped up his business meeting. Once safely away from the prying eyes of investors and colleagues in the yacht's master bedroom, Ethan and Becca begin to run tests and scans on the deteriorating businessman. 

“Mr. Bloom, can I ask you and Caroline a question?” Becca asked as she drew a few samples of blood. “It has nothing to do with your case. Me and my friend here are debating something,” she nodded her head at Ethan’s general direction.  

The patient looked between the two with a devious smile, “Sure, swing.” 

Becca quickly peered over at Ethan standing at an expensive gold and glass table with the mobile sonogram machine, his arms crossed and waiting for her to enlighten the room with her inquiry. 

She shot him a coy smile before turning back to the worldly man and asking, “How did you know you wanted to get married?” 

Ethan stifled a surprising cough. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she’d ask a complete stranger that. 

Mr. Bloom smiled as he instantly recalled every moment he has ever spent with his now-wife. 

Closing his eyes he recited, “We’ve been business partners for decades - since college, actually. We were married about 11 years ago. I’ve known her my entire adult life and waited until I was almost 50 to tell her how I really felt.” 

His eyes opened and found Caroline sitting in the chair by the large bay window immediately. The two looking adoringly at one another for a few seconds, speaking volumes in the language of love. For a moment Becca’s heart panged with hope that she could have that level of fondness with a man - that unconditional and unencumbered attachment that precedes words. 

“My recommendation is to tell the other person you have feelings for them from the get-go. It’ll buy you time together. Its - it’s the most precious thing in the world to be with the one you love most.”   

The way Leland Bloom spoke about his wife humanized him - he wasn’t a cut-throat businessman with oligarch-like wealth. He was a man who wanted as much time with his loved one as this world would permit, no matter the cost. 

“But how did you know she was the one?” Becca quizzed further. 

Mr. Bloom looked at Ethan's awkward form first and then to Becca as he asked, “Have you ever been in love?”

Ethan’s attention was focused on watching the images printing, deeply embarrassed by Becca’s brazen question and wanting no part of the conversation. Feeling everyone’s gaze on him he took in the three expectant stares and exclaimed incredulously, “Wha - Of course I have!”   

Becca smiled at the old man, “Yes.” 

“Do you remember how it felt?” Leland’s eyes bore into Becca’s begging the memories to surface. 

She nodded. 

Becca peered over at Ethan for a split second, his eyes meeting hers. She could see the curiosity swirling around his dark blue orbs alongside something else. Feeling ashamed for getting caught staring she bit her lip and tore her eyes away from him before she could even try to pinpoint just what the mystery emotion was.

“It’s like that,” Leland reassured. “But you’re constantly drawn to one another. The simplest and meaningless of tasks make you the happiest. You can sit in the same room in your own little world of silence together. Your heart swells when you look at them.” Like before his eyes flashed over to Caroline. “You’re never bored. And you can rely on them. The most telling sign was that I knew I needed her in my life even before I knew I had feelings for her. The intimacy was an added bonus.” 

He smiled up at his wife who now stood close by with an affectionate hand on her husband’s shoulder.  

“Would you agree, darling?” 

She nodded only for him. “I knew he was my person when he’d stand up for me. He wouldn’t let anyone belittle me or my intelligence. He challenged me to be a better person and comforted me when I needed it. He’s the best partner I could ask for.” Caroline’s body shifted to Becca though her eyes never left Leland’s, “Does that help your debate?” 

Becca looked over at Ethan who didn’t have an inkling of amusement in his features. “I think you’ve just proved my point, but I'll give him a few minutes to form a rebuttal,” she winked at the couple. 

They shared a pleasant laughter at Ethan’s expense. 

“Ok, Mr. Bloom, you’re all set,” Becca beamed as they finished their examination. “We’ll give you a call once we have the results from the lab later today.” 

With a nod of his head Mr. Bloom replied, “Good evening, doctors.” 

Ethan didn’t say a word as they disembarked the vessel. 

“So…” she started, expecting him to begin arguing his case on the disillusion of soulmates. 

Ethan wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. 

The walk back to his sedan was stewing in awkward tension under the afternoon raging heat. More than halfway back to the car Becca had just come to accept the fact that Ethan wasn’t going to engage in their little intellectual tiff when he spoke with a critical eye;   

“How many people have you presumably been in love with?” 

She certainly didn’t expect that to be his first rebuttal. It almost made Becca drop the medical bag she was holding. Almost.  

She simply responded, “Two. You?” 

Over her shoulder she saw Ethan walking straight and stoically, eyes fixed ahead. He was ever so expertly guarded and displaying no telling emotions. 

“Three, maybe,” he shrugged, not giving it a second thought.  

“Maybe?” 

“I don’t think teenage relationships could really count as love.”

“So we won’t count it,” Becca agreed with a small nod. “My number stands at 2.”  

They made it to the car and Ethan popped the truck for them to put the gear. He fussed with the equipment, taking slightly longer than necessary to make sure the bag with the blood samples were safe and secure. Becca eyed him carefully from the sidelines expectantly. 

With a loud thunk of the trunk and eyes glued to the license plate, he hesitated, “One.” 

“Tell me about her.” Becca demanded sweetly as she moved to open the passenger side door. “Or I can go first?” 

“Please,” he motioned for her to continue as they settled into his sedan. 

Becca took a cleansing breath as she buckled herself in for the journey. 

“It was my first year of undergrad. His name was Mack.” Becca could almost hear the roll of Ethan’s eyes as she stared out her window. “We dated for a year and broke up because my workload got intense and I couldn't go out much.” She took a pause as she remembered all those meaningful moments that came to define her adult-self. “He was a liberal arts major, really outgoing. He brought me out of my shell and taught me to be the person I am today. I’m really thankful for him, but more grateful that it didn’t work. I loved him, but I know now I definitely wasn’t in love with him. Looking back I don't even know how we would have made anything work.” Becca chuckled to herself. “He works in television now.”

There was a pause before she continued onto the second romantic love she’s ever experienced. Part of her hoped Ethan would jump in with an antidote. 

Still, he kept his eyes on the road ahead. 

“My last relationship was during med school. He was something else,” Becca continued with a vibrant smile. “We had great chemistry and a good time together.” 

The affection in her voice for the nameless man instinctively had Ethan gripping at the wheel just tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Medical school wasn’t more than two years in her past, still enough time for the exes to find their way back to one another… 

“We thought we were supposed to be together because that’s what you’re told as a kid - go to school, find your soulmate, get that good job, get married and have babies. We groomed each other to be all that. But the pressure of trying to be someone’s perfect person was too much. He went to California and I went to Boston. I don’t know what he’s up to today.”

Her smile faltered as she wordlessly recalled the day she and Thomas Miller III walked out of one another’s life for good. Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little relieved to know her break up was not amicable.  

“Your turn.” 

Becca didn’t have the strength to turn and face him, the still-raw memories were playing out against the glass of the rear-view mirror and she couldn’t banish them just yet.

Ethan began to recite his past relationship like a bulleted list, checking off any sort of pertinent information; “It was for nearly 10 months. During medical school. She was gracious and brilliant. We never saw much of each other but when we did we had the most riveting medical debates. It was good fun.” 

“That’s it?” Becca questioned in astonishment. Her brows were furrowed as she tried to keep her mouth from hanging open. How could someone look back on their first love with such displeasure? Even if it ended horribly the feeling of being in love is magical... and shouldn’t that in itself be celebrated?  

He nodded. 

Becca folded her arms across her chest and bit her lip as she pondered his words. 

With the slightest scoff Becca boldly concluded, “I don’t think you were in love.” 

Ethan was taken aback, clenching his jaw tightly in blatant refusal of conveying his surprise at her account of what happened with his heart while she was still in grade school. “How would you know?” he retorted.  

“Because if you were you’d see each other all the time,” she responded simply and with a jovial lightness - like she’d cracked an undefined code. “You’d forgo sleep to spend some time together. You’d talk about your insecurities, your family, your dreams of the future. Not just medicine and cases.” 

“You’re romanticising it.”  

That one phrase stirred something up deep inside Becca. Who was he to tell her those things didn’t matter in a relationship? Those are the things they talk about and she… she wouldn’t admit to it. With that one romantic phrase they dove back into the quarrel Ethan so desperately didn’t want to be having. 

Undeterred by consequences she countered, “How often did you have sex?”  

“Excuse me.”  

“You heard me,” she challenged.  

Ethan let out a long breath of air. They were stuck together for at least another 25 minutes and there wasn’t a single thing he could say to dodge his way out of this one. Although he didn’t like the fact, they both were acutely aware that Rebecca is the only person who could ever ask him an impudent question. She had earned that right that night he crossed the line and they ruined one another in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Once, maybe twice a month, I think.”

“Months!?” Becca practically jumped out of her seat. Her head whipped around to face him.  

Ethan hadn’t moved from the upright position and tight grip on the steering wheel she noted when they began their journey back to Edenbrook. The only thing that was running through Becca’s mind as she gawked at the admirable DNA of the man beside her was: How?  

“It was a long time ago,” Ethan said, still completely unflappable. “I can’t remember correctly.” 

“I was lucky to have sex twice a week.” Gosh, there were so many questions fluttering around Becca’s mind that she just couldn’t find the right words to articulate how unfathomable his confession seemed. 

She watched as he raised an eyebrow, “You had other priorities.”  

“No,” she stopped him right there with a point of her finger. “I had the same education as you. In between classes, assignments and reading your entire body of work I found time to find time.” 

The corner of Ethan’s lip twitched when she mentioned her devotion to his life’s work. 

Becca couldn’t believe he dared question her priorities - he read her application, he knows just how diligent and qualified she is. 

She wanted to continue arguing but knew it was futile. Instead she asked another innocent question, “How many relationships have you been in since her?” 

“Hurm, one,” Ethan grumbled, “Harper.” He paused to look at Becca out the corner of his eye for any sort of reaction. She gave him no ill indications - Her alert brown eyes were on him and brows rose high, awaiting further explanation. The two have had a quick quip on his history with the surgeon, but nothing past hearsay. “We’ve been on and off since residency,” he told her once more. “Now can we stop talking about this?”

Becca conceded, settling back into the shiny black leather. “I can’t believe you dated Harper,” she mused as she played with her seatbelt strap, “You two are so…” 

“Different?” Ethan finished for her. “We actually have a lot of the same interests.”  

“Intense,” Becca grinned as she finished her train of thought. “But I'm glad you got along.”  

“We didn’t.”  

If she wasn’t confused by the attendings’ relationship before she sure as hell was now. “Wha- How? You just said you have a lot in common.”  

“Having similar interests and getting along are not mutually exclusive, Doctor,” Ethan smirked. 

With a slack jaw and eyes trained on him once more, Becca all but demanded, “Explain please.”  

“We were two people at the top of our respective classes,” he began. “Medical journal leeches were pitching us again and again. Everyone was pushing us together - a power couple, if you will.” 

“The pride of Edenbrook,” she muttered in understanding.  

Ethan nodded, “Pretty much.”  

“Did Naveen orchestrate your coupling?” she asked. “He loves a good gossip story.”  

Ethan shook his head once, “Naveen just wants me to be happy. At that moment he thought she’d make me happy.”  

Becca let his words settle amongst them. She shouldn’t feel unsettled by his honesty, yet she did. There were too many comparable variables coming to light today. 

Becca chewed on her bottom lip for a few pensive seconds before asking the fated question; “Did you like her?” 

As soon as the words fell off her tongue she shut her eyes. She didn't want to see the damage the words could cause, and yet her body craved the answer. 

“I had an affinity for her, if that’s what you mean,” he asked but didn’t give her the chance to clarify. “We had the same interests; both of us very career-orientated. Ultimately that’s what got in the way.” He paused for a moment, thinking carefully about his next words. He said them slowly and a decibel quieter than the last, “And that I didn’t have highly romantic feelings for her.” Just then Becca’s eyes shot open, fixed at his loosened grip of the steering wheel. “I still have a lot of respect and admiration for her.” 

A small smile crept up on Rebecca. Those words alone held all she needed to know - Harper Emery never was and never will be a contender for Ethan’s heart. 

“Then why do it?” 

He shrugged as his features settled back into their default stoicism, “It was the right thing to do. If we didn’t… people would spend the rest of our lives forcing us together.” 

She cocked an eyebrow, “So your relationship was a PR stunt…?”

“Absolutely not. I’m not a low-life, Becca.” He took pure offense that she thought he would do anything without a saturation of intention. “We tried because it seemed right. It seemed… inevitable... to try.”

“Huh, ok.” 

He used her words against her. ‘Inevitable’ was what they were. Does he feel the same way about their relationship that he felt about Harper? Surely he didn’t, but she’d have no way to know. Ethan Ramsey kept pushing her away, and yet years ago he refused to wait and chose to explore those ineludible feelings with someone else. 

Was Harper the reason we aren’t together, since he’s done the whole ‘inevitable’ tango before? She speculated.  

Ethan’s next comment broke through her trance, “Aside from those disasters called relationships I have spent time with a few other women. You can rest assured I’m not completely incapable of intimacy.” 

“I know you’re not a robot, Ethan,” she lamented. I’m happy to be one of those women. 

Becca was glad he opened up to her, and for their intimacy all those months ago. Though, the gnawing of how many other women Ethan Ramsey had taken to bed in the days without her or Harper Emery plagued her mind. She wanted to press further but knew not to - she pushed her luck too much for one day.

_____________________________________

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