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ackermansundercut · 3 months

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Swing Dancin'

Summary: She was lucky enough to have a regular gig as a singer at a club in Brooklyn, and he was simply the beautiful soldier she had stolen a drink from.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 1940’s James Buchanan Barnes is a warning, fluff, no angst, implications of smut but not explicit, my first fic in like 5 years please be gentle with me (If you remember this fic from my bucky account I had in 2018 ily and this is the much better, edited version)

Amber lighting illuminated swirling dresses and sparkling crystal glass, the smell of cigar smoke floating through breezes of laughter spilling from the dance floor and the bar. This was her environment, the comfort she thrived in. Women in dresses and skirts that tickled their legs as they were twirled by men in uniform, enjoying normalcy for as long as possible before loading up and shipping off to fight in the war. Y/N got to observe this environment every Friday night. Sometimes, if she let out a saccharine giggle and held back her vomit when the club manager Louis touched her ass and made sleazy remarks, Saturdays too.

Minutes before her set, Y/N was reapplying her cherry red lipstick to her lips, half listening to the soldier holding her compact for her as he chattered on about something or the other. Maybe complimenting the deep blue of her dress, or the way it plunged just a little more than all of the other girls’ in the room, or her beautiful hair done up in curls. Nothing significant enough for Y/N to pay attention to, and certainly nothing that she hadn’t heard before. The man was less than charming and bordering on leery, and it looked as if he didn’t brush his teeth. Y/N got to her feet gracefully, the click of her heels muted in the noise. She shot the soldier a small smirk of a smile, lightly plucking her compact from his fingers and snapping it shut, slipping it into her clutch.

“Thanks darlin’,” y/n hummed ever so sweetly. She left the soldier slack jawed with an absentminded pat on his cheek and turned her gaze towards the stage, shooting a smile at the band who were finishing up with a fun bit of a jazz jive.

Sammy, the bassist, got the attention of the rest of the band and nodded at them, giving them the cue to wrap up the last few riffs so he could announce the woman just as he had every week for the past two months, since she had moved back to Brooklyn and secured this gig. With a final crescendo of the brass, the band was done, and Sammy was at the mic with a charismatic smile.

“Now, now, now, listen up y’all. I’m glad we’re all havin’ a good time, and it’s about to get a whole lot better! ‘Cause we got one of the best singin’ dames in Brooklyn back tonight!” Sammy shouted the last few words enthusiastically, and there was a chorus of drunken and sober shouts of approval alike accompanied by raucous applause. Y/N rolled her eyes, her smile still adorning her lips and a light flush visible high on her cheekbones. She absentmindedly patted her hair, smoothing her dress once more. In the split second before she was meant to take the stage, movement beside her shoulder caught her attention. With a quick glance to her right, Y/N snatched a glass of amber alcohol out of the oblivious soldier's hand and downed it in one go, the burn welcome in her throat. The man, once he had worked through a moment of shock at what exactly just happened, protested, but when she turned her gaze to him and his greyish blue eyes met her beautiful, enthralling ones, his voice caught in his throat. She dropped her mascara coated eyelashes into a demure wink at the admittedly handsome man, a smile on her cherry lips.

“Thanks for the drink, soldier,” she said sweetly, sparing him one last glance before swanning up the steps to the stage. Her lips curled back in place as she flashed a brilliant smile to Sammy, who handed her the microphone and tipped his hat before moving back to stand beside his bass. She glanced out at the audience, smatterings of applause meeting her in any direction she shifted her gaze.

She recognized a few faces, regulars of this particular club. Others were new. She noticed the soldier she had used as a mirror holder, and the soldier she had stolen the drink from. She had seen him a few times before, and who could forget those eyes? She also recognized a few other faces, a man with whom she had slept with once or twice because he said he drove fast, and she liked feeling alive. A girl who she had saved from a creep, and a few simply damn good swing dancers who made their impression on the singer. The new ones were always the most interesting, though, because she tried to guess who she would see next week, and who, on the off chance, would tip her for her singing.

“Well, aren’t you all just a sweet crowd,” she hummed into the microphone, shooting a dazzling smile at the audience as she adjusted it to her height, garnering her some whistles and shouts of the positive sort, making her smile internally to match the one playing on her lips. Good crowd tonight. “I believe our lovely Sammy over there did a mighty fine job of introducing me, so I might as well go ahead and start singing,” she let out a peal of laughter that was as enthralling as the notes that slid past her cherry lips as she sang. She had one hand on the mic stand, the other delicately placed on the mic itself as she started her first song of the night, a fast jazzy crowd-pleaser about a little bit of love on a hot summer night in Hollywood. She moved her hips as she sang, a smirk or a grin adorning her lips throughout the entirety of her set. She loved watching the crowd dance as she sang, though she couldn’t help the way her eyes strayed to where a specific soldier was dancing with a beautiful girl, though his eyes weren’t on his date. Every single time Y/N unwittingly allowed her gaze to drift to that section of the floor, his eyes were on hers as she moved her hips and sang her pretty little heart out in that sultry, swing voice of hers. Through every song, the slow and the fast, she met his eyes at least once. At one point, during her third or fourth song, he went to the bar and perched himself next to a skinny blonde boy, but never took his eyes off of the woman commanding the attention of the room from the small stage.

Y/N finished her set after her second extra song, pushing the time limit that Louis had set for her, laughter bubbling past her lips as she caught a rose thrown from somewhere in the crowd. She quirked an eyebrow and grinned, facetiously placing it between her teeth and turning to Sammy with an exaggerated curtsy, who without hesitation swung the woman around in just enough dance to give the audience a good laugh.

“I thank you all kindly, you’ve been more than darling. Now, back to the band!” Y/N called out into the microphone before winking at the crowd and descending the few steps to the floor level. As per usual, there were a few people at the base of the stairs telling her she did well, and a few bold men doing their best to take her home with them tonight. She graciously accepted the praise, kissing a few cheeks and reminding everyone she’d be here next week as well. And as soon as she could, she slipped back to the bar, weaving between dancing couples until she was leaning against the hardwood.

“Hey baby, give me something strong,” she called to the bartender, who flashed her a smile and nodded, reaching for the bourbon as he responded.

“Amazing as always, y/n!”

He was just handing her the glass, the cool surface barely skimming her fingertips before it was stolen out of her hand and downed by none other than the soldier she had stolen a drink from at the beginning of the night. She couldn’t help the abrupt laugh that escaped her throat, an eyebrow raised as she raised a hand at the bartender for another drink .

“I suppose we’re even now, aren’t we soldier?”

“I suppose we are, doll,” he said sweetly and leaned against the bar beside her, a crooked smile on his lips. She took a moment to study his face. He was handsome, sure, but it was the easy nature of his smile and the light of life in his stormy ocean eyes that drew her in. He had his hat sitting cocked on his head, and the way his uniform fit perfectly across his broad shoulders made something flutter in her lower stomach. She grabbed her drink from the bartender with a grin of thanks and took a small sip as she examined the man in front of her.

“What did you think of the show…?” She trailed off, opening the door for him to offer his name.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, ma’am,” he shot her another smirk, tipping his hat, “at your service. I think I truly did see one of the most beautiful, best singin’ dames in this country,” James said. There was a light blush threatening to creep up Y/N’s cheeks, but she tilted her chin down for a moment to attempt to keep it at bay. She fluttered her eyelashes a bit, pulling her painted lower lip between her teeth. She hummed thoughtfully for only a few moments before her fingertips were seizing the rim of her glass, and she was downing her entire drink, setting the glass back on the table. James was looking at her with an open expression of amusement and curiosity, and she felt the corners of her lips curling into a genuine smile subconsciously.

“I think you want to ask me to dance, Sergeant,” Y/N stated, her eyebrow raised and mirth dancing in her eyes. James Buchanan Barnes mirrored her expression, nodding after a millisecond of thought with a chuckle and offering his hand.

“Well then, doll, it would be my pleasure if you accompanied me in a dance,” James said. Y/N didn’t respond with words, only settling her hand in the larger, rougher one of James Barnes, allowing him to pull her into the center of the dance floor. He swung her around for more than just one dance, spinning her from left to right and lifting her off the floor into his arms, and then back to the ground to twirl some more. He left her breathless, both from the dancing and his charm. It was as if the expression of joy was glued to y/n’s face, laughter spilling past her lips with each dip and turn. James Buchanan Barnes knew how to dance. Y/N was no stranger to dancing with, well, strangers, but she had never felt so at ease with anyone else. James had an aura to him, a warmth that radiated and filled her chest with more than a few butterflies.

Soon enough, the boys on stage slowed the pace to a smoother, crooning song, and Y/N found herself pressed close to James’ chest. His cologne clouded any sort of thought in her mind, and she couldn’t help but reach up with a delicate hand to rest on his clean shaven jaw. His hand that wasn’t preoccupied on her waist mirrored her touch, sliding up her shoulder to cup the back of her neck. Y/N felt her breath catch between her parted lips as James’ smirk melted into something sweeter, and an irresistible magnetic pull drew their lips together. The moment their lips met, what began as a sweet, soft, first kiss dissolved into one with more heat, more want, more everything and it felt as if every nerve that ran through Y/N’s body had gained a static charge. The noise of the band and the din of the people surrounding the pair dimmed in comparison to the blood rushing through Y/N’s ears, and she went as long as her singer lungs would allow before the burning need for oxygen forced her to pull away from the sergeant's lips. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and he had a boyish grin on his lips when he caught her gaze.

“You wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” James murmured, his voice only audible to her. She nodded, a clever smirk back on her red lips as she looked up at the soldier through her eyelashes.

“C’mon, let’s go to my place,” she said. And they went, James waving to his friend that Y/N had seen him sitting with earlier, and Y/N stopping for a moment to collect her tips from the night. Once outside of the club, James had Y/N pressed against the wall outside of the club for another kiss, his lips cascading down the column of her throat and causing a whine or two to escape Y/N. She interrupted him when a cab finally paid attention to her halfhearted hailing, and she lightly shoved at James’ chest to get his attention and get him into the car before the impatient driver left without them. Y/N managed to give the cabbie her address, a small apartment above a family owned grocery store, before James’ insatiable lips were back on hers.

The pair shared countless kisses in the back of the car, their hands becoming more daring with each minute of the short ride. It wasn’t long before the car stopped and the annoyed cabbie grumbled something or another at the couple, so she tossed a bit of cash over the seat to the driver and grabbed James’ hand, pulling him up the stairs and fumbling with the lock, giggling when James kissed her neck impatiently from behind her. When she finally got the old door open and had taken only a step inside her apartment, James closed the door with his foot and had his hands on her waist as if they belonged nowhere else. He had her spun around and pressed to the door before she even got a chance to catch her breath, and he took a moment to appreciate the dazed look in her eyes. Y/N was less than patient, however, and reached up to tug his face down to hers. She swallowed his chuckles with open mouthed kisses, and his hands roamed the expanse of her back and waist. Her hands fingertips tugged at the ends of the short hair at the nape of his next, and he let out a low, deep groan and moved his lips to the beautiful woman’s neck, then her collarbone, and she responded eagerly, a needy whimper sounding as pretty as her singing graced James’ ears. The soldier groaned lowly at the beautiful noise, and before she knew it, his hands moved again. They were beneath the plush of her thighs, lifting her up. She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist with a quiet giggle, a sweet little noise that had James grinning. He turned and with only a few strides, her apartment was quite small, she was on the bed as he hovered over top of her, running his fingers through her beautiful hair. His dog tags slipped from where they were tucked into his collar, and Y/N had to fight the urge to grab them with her teeth and tug his face right back down to hers. Everything about her was beautiful, and he hungrily took in every detail of her features with ravenous eyes. Her lips were swollen and her lipstick was a bit smeared, her hair slightly tousled. He had left a couple hickies on her neck, and he failed to suppress a grin at the sight. She didn’t fail to notice his beauty, either, and she sent him an alluring smile fit for a vixen.

“I suggest,” Y/N began, one of her hands ghosting up the sergeant's front, “you start taking my clothes off now, Sarge,” she murmured in her breathy, nothing short of sexy voice that had James’s blood flow change direction. He groaned and seized forward to steal another kiss from her before pulling back and tugging lightly at the strap of her dress.

“Yes, ma’am,” his deep voice rattled her to her core, and she grinned. There was a flurry of clothing hitting the floor in a haphazard pile, and Y/N had a fleeting thought that she had never been happier that she didn’t have neighbors.

Y/N woke to golden sunlight dancing across her eyelids and warming the bare skin of her back, a heavy arm draped across her waist tickled her side as fingertips traced invisible shapes onto her skin. She forced her eyelids apart despite the lull of peace in the quiet morning drawing her back to sleep, the corners of her lips tilting into a blissful, surprised smile when she met the gaze of the man sharing her bed.

“Well, Sergeant, didn’t quite expect you to stay the night,” she murmured sleepily, leaning up slightly to press a kiss to James’s lips. It wasn’t something she did often, allowing men to stay the night, let alone greeting them in the morning. He was just different. He sent the dame a grin, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, the gentle motion sending a shiver up her spine. This wasn’t very common for him either, staying the night and into the morning. She was just different.

“What, and leave the most beautiful dame in Brooklyn to wake up alone?” James hummed, shaking his head with a soft smile.

“What a gentleman,” Y/N teased with a laugh, propping her head up with her hand, meeting James’s captivating gaze. She tugged the sheet up slightly, allowing her a bit more modesty under his thoughtful eyes. He was staring at her as if he was a man with a million questions, and she held the secrets to the universe. It was a good few beats of silence before he spoke, his fingers never ceasing their sweeping motions on her waist as he contemplated his words.

“You know, doll, I’ve still got a week before I ship out, and I want to get to know you better, if that’s alright with you,” he stated, and Y/N could’ve sworn she saw the tips of his ears turn a Typically, on the off chance she allowed a man to stay overnight in her bed, the second they began to imply that they wanted to see her again, she cut them off with a sweet kiss and a push out the door. Instead, she silenced the little voice in her head, and she found herself pulling her lower lip between her teeth, barely concealing an elated smile.

“It’s more than alright with me. If we only have a week, I do believe we better make the most of our time together, then. Why don’t we start by going for breakfast, Sergeant Barnes?” She suggested, cursing the girlish butterflies in her stomach. He let out a laugh, almost sounding relieved, and James Buchanan Barnes found himself nodding his head and cupping her cheek with one of his hands, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb.

“I think that’s a fine idea, sweetheart. And you can call me Bucky.”

A/N I'm so happy to be writing again, even this is just an updated, edited version of one of my favorite fics from my old blog!!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #40s!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #avengers fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #soldier!bucky #bucky barnes x reader

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avonne-writes · 4 days

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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRwjLtJH/

I saw this on TikTok and I immediately knew I had to share it here

Band AU, yes! Singer!Gale x bassist!John sounds hot 🔥 Gale's style would be so moody... Half of the fans ship him and Bucky, the other half is in denial because they want to sleep with either Gale or Bucky. Gale hates doing interviews and only does them with Bucky, because then Bucky takes over and talks the whole time.

Bonus: what if they're actually married (did it before their rise to fame)? Eventually, someone is going to dig out that information and all hell breaks loose.

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #band au #anon #I don’t have tiktok by the way #so I don’t see full video descriptions and comments

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accihoe · 3 months

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Under the Bridge

I'm writing in a moment of despair, forgive me.

Pairing: rockstar!Bucky x rockstar!reader

Summary: The rivalry bands drummers don't have such a rivaling relationship.

Warnings: rivalry

A/u: 90s Rockstar

A/n: I had my main character breakdown in the shower to the RHCP 🤭. As per usual, PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. God bless! :)

xxx

"We lost the petition to The Avengers (Bucky's band)." Her bassist delivered the blood boiling news to her on Monday.

"He doesn't have much time left, and it's no use visiting him. He has no recollection of anyone or anything." Her mother broke the news to her on a Tuesday evening about a dear family friend.

"You need to pull up your socks if you want to stay in the band, Y/L/N." The band manager threatened her on Wednesday.

Thursday had its own struggles involving the lugs repeatedly coming loose during practice.

And then Friday. Friday went surprisingly well. Everyone was pleased with her drumming during rehearsal. The band's manager even patted her back. She'd also been nominated as the best female drummer of the decade. It was just before the show that the very tense dam walls broke. Y/N's housesitter, Jane, informed her via a call on the landline that her cat Rosemary had run away.

Rosemary was Y/N's backbone. When even her family doubted her success as a female drummer in the music industry, Rosemary was there with her chirpy meows to inspire Y/N. When she got rejected by agencies, Rosemary was quick to curl up on her chest and purr. When she was ill, Rosemary never left her side. Rosemary grounded her amidst all the chaos. Rosemary went with her from sleeping in a run-down apartment to the house of their dreams.

That night, Y/N played her heart out on stage. Her band mates turned to watch her several times during the set. Their manager was beyond pleased with her. The Avengers were beyond displeased with her, said for their drummer, the Winter Soldier. Yet nobody knew about the secret love between the two rivalling drummers.

Nobody got a chance to congratulate Y/N after the show. She disappeared into the night in her dark leather coat, as did James. "Honey, you were amazing tonight!" Bucky whispered, emerging from the parking lot. "Thank you. Let's get away from here, please." Y/N whispered back. They got into the car, and Bucky drove them off. "What inspired ya?" Bucky asked as they drove into the night.

"Rosemary's gone..." Y/N whispered, looking at her leather-clad knees. "What? Darling, how? What happened?" Bucky asked, eyes laced with concern. "I dunno. Jane called. Said Rosemary hit the road." She said. "Mind if I play a song?" She rushed out before Bucky could answer. "Of course not." Bucky said gently.

Ironically, as they pulled in under a bridge, Under the Bridge by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers started to play. "Did you plan that?" Bucky chuckled. "Yes." Y/N was quick to admit with a small smile. "I love you, you know that?" Bucky sighed, taking the car keys out of the ignition. "I think I do. But hearing you say it warms my heart. I love you too, drummer boy." Y/N smiled at her lover. The lovers sat on the hood of the car as Under the Bridge blared through the speakers, watching the moon reflect in the water.

"I'm sorry about Rosemary. I really am." He said, taking her hand into his. "It's alright, love." Y/N smiled gently, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'll help you look for her." Bucky promised. "Thank you. And once we've found her, the three of us will snuggle up and watch Scooby-Doo together." Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder as she spoke. Bucky laughed heartily and agreed.

"Would you be mad if I wrote a song about you?" Bucky asked, bringing her knuckles up to his lips and kissing them. "No. But only if I'm allowed to write one about you too." Y/N said. "The bands will fire us if they hear we wrote songs about each other. Let alone find out about us." Bucky said half jokingly, and half truthfully sad. "Then we'll start a band together." Y/N said softly, taking his left hand and kissing his knuckles.

xxx

Fin. Hope you liked it.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes series #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #rockstar!bucky barnes x reader #rockstar bucky #rockstar girlfriend #marvel cinematic universe #the avengers #Spotify

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buckyismybicycle · 1 year

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Title: “I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master” [AO3 Link] Originally written as part of: Bucky Barnes As… a Rockstar SERIES MASTERLIST Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Mature Summary/Notes: This is, pretty much, exactly what it looks like. Rockstar Bucky, Flirting, etc. EDIT: Now! I’m happy to announce that this is now IT’S OWN SERIES that I have the honour of writing with @rookthorne! More rockstar!Bucky for everyone!

“𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐝” Series Masterlist | Part 2 »

The crowd is already worked up from the band on stage and Bucky is grinning maniacally behind the stage. Nat, his bassist, looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You good, Buck?”

“Fucking fantastic, Natalia. I’m fucking fantastic. You see ‘em? It’s packed out there.”

“Your shows have been sold out all week,” Sharon reminds him while fixing Scott’s guitar strap.

“Iunno, Shar, it’s just different. Somethin’ about this place.” His blood is pumping from the heavy bass, the Cap Quartet rocking out on stage. He’s played shows with them before - Sam, Steve, Joaquin and Riley are all cool dudes. They’d become friends pretty easily, so it was a no-brainer that they were the first band Bucky asked to co-headline his tour.

—

“Thank you, you beautiful bastards!” Riley’s voice booms, followed by a loud screeching of the crowd. “Hang onto your panties if you still got ‘em, because the final act is gonna knock you dead. Yeah, you know who I’m talking about, the band you’ve all been waiting for — let me hear you fuckers!”

Bucky closes his eyes and lets the thrum of the audience's cheer work its way all the way into his bones. Fuck, he almost has a boner.

“Where’s Clint?” He asks, eager to get on stage. Natasha jerks a finger behind her where Clint is downing a bag of Cheerios between sips of Mountain Dew. Bucky grins, because it means Clint will be amped. Bucky can’t help but strum his own guitar a few times, the calluses on his fingers a permanent fixture by now.

Natasha hauls both Scott and Clint over practically by the ear, her studded combat boots thumping with each step.

“Ready?” Bucky asks with a wicked smile.

“Ready,” the three return in their usual manner, with grins and lazy salutes. Then it’s blinding lights and deafening roars.

Bucky wastes no time in getting the crowd amped.

“C’mon, are we asleep out here?! Let’s gooooo bay-beeeeeeeee!” While Bucky is loud, the crowd is louder and they are on their feet from the first strum of his guitar, and Bucky feels high as a kite.

It’s not your first show at the Kathedral, but it’s certainly the loudest. You’d never heard of this particular band, but Misty’s best friends make up the Cap Quartet, so you had to support them, of course. And they were good, you actually liked when they popped up on your shuffle.

Originally, you thought you’d maybe dip after they were done - sitting for two opening acts and the Cap Quartet’s set already had your feet aching. But the moment the next band stepped out, and Misty starts jumping up and down beside you, you have no choice but to stay. The energy was infectious and you kind of missed just letting go. You may not be a rebellious teenager anymore, but the atmosphere of being at a rock concert makes you feel young and reckless again. Even the smell of spilled beer and sweat brings back a bit of nostalgia, back to when you were sixteen and had ‘X’s drawn on your hands just to get in the venue.

“C’mon, are we asleep out here?!” You hear the singer shout, and you can’t help but think how beautiful the whole band is.

There’s a redhead rocking heeled boots that look like they could kill a man, her bass guitar plastered with stickers. The drummer is wearing a sleeveless muscle tank that does wonders for his arms and the other guitarist has a dazzling smile when he looks out into the crowd.

But the lead singer - he’s rocking black leather pants that bunch above his combat boots like he’d haphazardly stuck his feet in, but they’re tight across his thighs. You can see every flex in his muscles as he jumps around on stage. His hair whips around his face as he throws his whole body into his performance. It’s a small miracle he even manages to hit any notes on his guitar. His black t-shirt stretches across his shoulders and chest, hugging his biceps, which makes your mouth water, but what really hits you is his voice.

The opening notes of his song are the epitome of zero to one hundred. Your throat almost hurts just from watching him, but he’s nothing but smiles, clearly lost in what he loves.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

He gets a moment of reprieve when the next part comes up, before he ramps up again, the veins in his neck prominent, making you wanna lick them. A glint of metal flashes in his mouth when he sings — a tongue piercing, probably.

One at a time I know this bridge we built won't last But it'll hold for at least a while Even when the life leaves your bones Your soul will follow me wherever I go It's in the way I feel your fire even when I sleep at night I stay inside your glow

He hits the chorus again, just as hard as he did at the beginning and you swear the floor shakes as everyone jumps.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

Then he faces the audience and hops on the speaker in front, leaning forward with his microphone, his other hand waving for the crowd to sing it back to him. You’re captivated by his crystal-like eyes as the lights bounce off them.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

You even find yourself shouting along, the song is so catchy that you’re into it from the moment it started. As you shout the last line, he looks right at you and it’s like an electrifying bolt through your body as he holds the look for the next line before he bounds off to the sides of the stage that he’s been neglecting.

You’re in awe as his voice changes to something smooth and soft, the instruments that were near deafening slowing down with him. He sways in the middle of the stage, face turned up as though in prayer, the bassist even hitting a few notes on the keyboard to her side as she backs him up, vocally.

I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the)

And in perfect sync, the band picks up, hard again, all of them (except the drummer) jumping as well and the crowd goes wild. You narrowly miss getting kicked in the head by a crowdsurfer, who gets a fistbump from the singer over the side of the stage.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife Lost a vital part of me Lost a vital part of me Now there's nothing left I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

You’re in a trance when he ends the song, holding the note so long you’re sure his lungs should burst. Maybe it’s the heat, or the adrenaline, or just your heart pumping out of your chest as you bounce for the rest of the set, but you could swear that the lead singer kept catching your eye.

You feel like you’re flying, on cloud nine, so maybe it’s all in your head, but goddamn if you didn’t twitch with want every time you met his eyes. How this crowd still had energy was beyond you, you knew that you were dead on your feet, hair plastered to your neck with sweat but grinning wildly.

“Alright you hellions, this is the last one.” When the crowd starts chanting ‘encore, encore’ he just laughs into the mic, his voice a little raspy from his performance.

“If we could, we’d play all fuckin’ night, you know that! But some of us gotta get to Indiana by tomorrow night. So we gotta make this last one count. Let’s get sexy, folks.”

His husky voice makes it absolutely devastating as he starts off by smirking at you.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master I wanna make your heart beat Run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy I wanna be a gangster 'Cause you can be the beauty And I could be the monster

It’s as though each line sent a new wave of desire through you. You picture calling him a good boy, wonder if he’d flush just as beautifully as he did now under the heat of the lights.

I love you since this morning Not just for aesthetic I wanna touch your body So fucking electric

The crowd loses its collective mind as he starts to ruck up his shirt, as each line gets progressively more seductive, and his shirt rides further and further up. You can’t help but ogle his washboard abs glistening with sweat since he was right there.

I know you scared of me You said that I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears And that's fucking pathetic I wanna make you hungry Then I wanna feed ya I wanna paint your face Like you're my Mona Lisa

Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest image you’d had all night. His shirt comes off over his head and he twirls it, throwing behind him.

I wanna be a champion I wanna be a loser I'll even be a clown Cause I just wanna amuse ya I wanna be your sex toy I wanna be your teacher I wanna be your sin I wanna be a preacher

You lick your lips just as he turns to you and if possible, his smile grows even bigger, feral, as he sings right at you. The lyrics made your head spin with want.

I wanna make you love me Then I wanna leave ya 'Cause baby I'm your David And you're my Goliath

He winks before strutting off, his muscles tight and taunting. The sway of his hips, intentional or not, entices you, and you’d give anything to bite down on them. The stupid pants are just taunting you at this point.

Ah-ha… Mhm, ah-ha\ Because I'm the devil Who's searching for redemption And I'm a lawyer Who's searching for redemption And I'm a killer Who's searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption

He sinks to his knees on the stage as steam hisses in the back in billow pillars. The lights change, flashing reds and oranges, yellows and pinks. They dance magically across his skin.

And I'm a bad guy Who's searching for redemption And I'm a blonde girl Who's searching for redemption I'm a freak that Is searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master

You’re going to die - straight to heaven or hell, it doesn’t matter at this point, because he’s honest-to-god crawling across the stage on his arms and knees, his mic still in one hand.

I wanna make your heart beat Run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy I wanna be a gangster Cause you can be the beauty And I could be the monster I wanna make you quiet I wanna make you nervous I wanna set you free But I'm too fucking jealous I wanna pull your strings Like you're my telecaster And if you want to use me I could be your puppet 'Cause I'm the devil Who's searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption

He ends at the edge of the stage, his torturous crawl making your throat go dry from more than just your screaming. Then, he flips on his back, lets his head hang over the side of the stage.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master

The last line is but a whisper, and then he finally lets the mic drop, his arms stretched like he’s going for a backwards dive and his chest is heaving. He’s a sweaty mess, body on display and licks his lips while staring a hole into your soul.

—

The venue slowly begins to empty, stragglers buying merch or finishing their drinks. You feel dizzy when Misty drags you outside, saying that her friends want to hang out for a bit before they leave for the next town. You stumble along because, yeah, alright, her friends are cool.

They’re by their tour bus, all of them outside with drinks in their hands and they wave you both over.

“Excellent show, boys,” you greet as everyone takes turns hugging both you and Misty.

“Yeah, you guys killed it!” Misty agrees enthusiastically.

“What’d you think of the other bands?” Sam asks. “Parasite Fears has never been on the road like this.”

“That was the first band, right? They were really good! And the set was fun,” you say honestly. Now that you’re outside and it’s getting late, the sweat on your body is cooling, causing you to shiver a bit. Riley hands you a cup and when you ask what it is, he just smiles. You drink it anyway, because why not. They spend a few minutes chatting before a warm arm wraps around your shoulders, and your breath catches at the sight of bright crystal-like eyes beside you. His other arm is thrown over Joaquin as he stands between you.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiles blindingly at you.

“Hi,” you say back, still a little stunned at how at ease he seemed to be, even as he retracts his arm. He’s changed into basketball shorts of all things, which makes you even chillier just looking at him. This close, you can see the intricate lines of his tattoos - metal plates from shoulder to fingers on his left arm, swirls of black script along his other.

“You look cold, sweetheart,” he observes. “Couldn’t you guys have taken this party into the tour bus?”

“They’re fixing the bus,” Steve says. “Told us to stay outta the way.”

“You sure you’re gonna be alright to head out?” Bucky asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Should be,” Steve shrugs. “Tones said we’d be fine, or else he’d find another way. We’ll know in about two hours or so.”

“Ehhh, tell Tones to relax for once. If anything, you can divvy yourselves up and the rest of us could shuttle you the rest o’ the way.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve claps him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, can’t have you ruining the tour, punk.”

Something about their easy camaraderie makes you smile. But you’re still cold, and Bucky still notices.

“If I had a jacket, I’d offer it to you,” he looks back at you. “Next best thing, I can offer our unbroken tour bus?” He jerks his head behind and you see the redheaded bassist leaning against the side smoking a cigarette, chatting with the drummer who appears to be double-fisting drinks.

You look at Misty who is being introduced around to the other bands by Sam and Riley and there’s no way she’s going to be anytime soon.

“Um. You don’t have to,” you say, because he’s a stranger. He cocks his head to study you. It looks like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t push.

“Offer’s open, doll,” he shrugs. Some other members come up to him, Steve, and Joaquin and congratulate them on their set so you quietly slip away.

You don’t know anyone else here, and it’s kind of awkward to be by yourself so you start wandering around. When you round a bus, you nearly smack into the drummer from Bucky’s band and you yelp as you both jump back.

“Sorry!” you both say at the same time before the sandy-haired man smiles and waves before walking past you. You notice that he’d dropped something - though it was small and black making it hard to tell what it was.

“Hey!” you shout at him, but he doesn’t turn around, instead heading back to his bus. You pick up the item, a transmitter of some sort, and try to catch up to him. You can’t seem to find him and the bassist had also left her spot so you approach the bus. The door is completely open but you knock on the frame anyway.

“Hello?” There’s no sound inside so you think about leaving it where he can find it easily.

“Takin’ me up on my offer?” You startle at the sudden voice behind you.

“Actually, your dummer dropped this,” you explain, thankful to at least hand it back to someone. “I tried to get his attention but I don’t think he could hear me, and then I kinda lost him in the crowd.”

“Don’t be offended, he probably took his hearing aids out,” Bucky tells you easily. “Thanks for bringing this back though, Sharon woulda fuckin’ killed him.”

“Hearing aids?” You can’t help but blurt out. “Wow.”

Bucky beams proudly as he tells you about his friend, Clint, how gifted of a drummer he is and how even losing most of his hearing never stopped him.

“That’s amazing,” you say, a genuine smile for his story and how much he was beaming just talking about Clint. Just then a gust of wind blows, and your jean shorts and t-shirt aren’t cutting it.

“C’mon, before you freeze,” Bucky jerks his head toward the tour bus and fuck it. You hop aboard, Bucky following you. He places the transmitter on the kitchenette table, looking hilariously giant in the cramped space.

“You come here often?”

“Did you just use the oldest pick up line of all time?” You scrunch your nose at him, liking the sound of his laugh.

“Is it working?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I’m just asking out of genuine curiosity,” he bats his eyelashes. They’re so pretty, you think to yourself.

“I used to. Less often now, but when I hear someone good is playing, I show up.”

He arches an eyebrow at you.

“Cap Quartet, I mean. Obviously. They don’t scream as much as you do,” you add, and you find yourself relaxing with Bucky as he takes all your jokes and jabs in stride as he tickles you for the slight.

“You hurt my feelings, doll,” he says, all smiles and sharp teeth.

“How ever could I make it up to you?” You find yourself flirting with him.

“Maybe you could scream for me this time,” he suggests, leaning in closer with a tilt of his head, eyes searching yours for a sign.

“Yeah?” You ask a little breathlessly, forgetting how to breathe as you two inch into each other’s spaces now.

“Yeah,” his lips just grazing against your neck. “Didn’t you enjoy that last song I sang for you?”

“For me?” You ask incredulously, making Bucky grin at you.

“Ya heard me, doll. For you,” he repeats. “It seemed like you enjoyed it..”

Whatever thought you’d had about him flirting with you was more or less solidified now, and it was making your body rebel against you. You lick your lips subconsciously before you answer. “Maybe.”

“Especially that bit… about wanting to be your master.”

You involuntarily hold your breath, legs squeezing together. It’s impossible not to imagine Bucky over you, pinning you down as he commands you to do as he wants.

“Or… maybe it was that bit about wanting to be your slave?”

The breath you let out is shaky, matching your trembling hands that are balled into fists across your lap.

Bucky’s eyes darken, and you’re not really sure who made the first move, but you’re suddenly kissing furiously, hands tangled in each other’s hair and clothes.

“Christ, I’ve wanted this since I first fuckin’ saw you,” Bucky tells you, pulling you into his lap, where you can feel his dick hardening through his shorts. It’s embarrassing how fast you get on board, your pussy quivering at the thought of being touched for the first time in too long.

“Tell me what you need, pretty little thing,” he nibbles at your bottom lip. “God, I wanna take you apart, wanna do anythin’ you want.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “That. Want that, too. Want you to fuck me.”

His lips curl into a smile against yours as he lifts you easily to tumble into a bottom bunk. “Yes, master.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes as...#my works #bucky barnes fanfic #rockstar bucky #feat hold absence and maneskin lol #music taste

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bitchysoulwasteland · 5 months

Text

No one but you.

Bucky Barnes X Vamp!Reader

A/n: my Queen obsession once again reveals itself, but, hey, I’m happy, so who cares?

You and Bucky had known each other back in the 1970s when you had been the front woman of Queen. Back then, of course, he was the Winter Soldier and you were an unknown singer when you met in 1968 with a struggling band desperate to find a frontman and a bassist. It was just you, Roger Taylor and Brian May back then. You were all still college students in your final year in the band ‘Smile’, which was before Freddie’s flamboyant changing of the band’s name.

You had met the Winter Solder at a pub in London. You had brought him a drink after you saw him outside, looking physically beaten up. From then, he hung out with you and the band. He had been there when Freddie and Deacy joined. When you had recorded your first song. When you had left Trident Studios and joined EMI.

But, he then disappeared. He was gone without a trace which left a gaping hole of longing within your soul itself.

This was when your songs started to be discarded from albums. They began to not even be recorded. You had lost your muse, seemingly your reason for life itself. The lads in the band noticed this before anyone else did.

It was a few years of heartbreak before everyone lost you. More than metaphorically, of course.

It was 1975 when you disappeared. You wrote a note to the band, apologising for your absence, resigned from the contract with EMI and moved to America.

You had given up with your life, so you were pray to those who would try to harm you. You were vulnerable and loved a good alcoholic drink, so it was easy for the sod that turned you into a vampire to do so. You didn’t really remember it, but you did know that you had been fending for yourself since then.

The only good thing to come of it, was that you no longer had to worry about how your soldier left you. You didn’t have to. You pushed it to the back of your mind and tried to forget about it.

You had your mansion, your alcohol and your memories of Queen to get you through. You had also befriended a vampire called Damon Salvatore and another called Stefan Salvatore who lived a few roads away from you.

It got to the point where you were basically living in their place more than your own. You and Damon often got blackout drunk and would go around Mystic Falls just for the hell of it, which would then result in Stefan having to clear up your mess.

Present day: Mystic Falls

The Quinjet landed in a field beside a mansion. There had been a system failure, so Steve had to land it. The Avengers walked out of the jet, Bucky at the back. They walked to the door and Steve knocked on the oak.

Inside, you got up from the sofa and answered the door, somewhat shocked the Captain America was there.

“Win?” You said, seeing the soldier behind Steve.

“Y/n? You’re alive?”

“Un-bloody-fortunately, yeah. Come in, all of you.” You said, letting them in.

“I thought you’d died, doll.”

“I couldn’t do it after you left.”

“Do what?”

“Queen, life, any of it. I gave up. I wrote the lads a note before I left…. It hurt Win. It hurt so fucking much.” You said as Bucky wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, doll.” Bucky said, slightly tightening his embrace.

“It wasn’t your fault. With the whole Hydra and mind wipe thing I knew it would come eventually. Just maybe not so soon.”

A knock came from the door. “Y/n, I brought Jack Daniels.” It was Damon, there for the monthly drown your sorrows meeting you two would have.

“I guess you found someone else, huh doll?” Bucky said before letting go of you and walking into the living room as you answered the door, letting Damon in. You left the door open and vamp speeded to Bucky.

“It’s not like that, Win. It has never been like that. Not with him and not with anyone else, alright? And if you don’t believe me, you can ask him.”

Bucky looked you in your eyes. “You sure, doll?”

“There’s no one, Win. No one but you.”

Bucky smiled, embracing you once again. Damon stood in the doorway, happy that you had found Bucky again.

#avengers #x reader #queen band #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 11 months

Text

MEET THE BAND

welcome backstage! the six is thrilled to meet you.

THE LEAD SINGER- BUCKY BARNES

LEAD GUITAR- STEVE ROGERS

DRUMS- MATT MURDOCK

BASSIST- PETER PARKER

RHYTHM GUITAR- LOKI LAYFEYSON

KEYBOARD- NATASHA ROMANOFF

THE MANGER- SAM WILSON

THE BEST FRIEND- WANDA MAXIMOFF

#the six #claire writes #the six- a series #marvel series

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ohbuckie · 6 months

Note

waking up by b!bucky kissing ur neck and grinding against ur ass and pawing at ur torso bc he’s a little horndog and you have the type of sex where you’re barely awake and the only thing you can focus on is how good it feels and he makes you cum so hard you just go back to sleep

he’s so warm and just so good at making you feel good…you tell him you wanna see his face and he kisses your shoulder and grabs your hand while he’s still holding onto your waist and is like “i’m right here” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

#asks #bassist bucky

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friendlyneighbourhood-parker · 2 years

Text

nagging and napping

pairing: Steven grant x reader, Marc spector x reader, Jake lockley x reader

Summary: after a good-bye party for Layla you get hurt and the moonboys have to manage taking care of you on their own ways while making sure you remember that this wasn't your fault

Word count: 12 k

Warnings: child abuse, wendy's mentioned, panic attacks, wound patching as a way of showing affection, implied smut, the wounds really don't make sense i'm sorry, intrussive thoughts, negative self talk, mentions of blood and wounds angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

A/N: This wasn't supposed to be so long nor take as much time to write as it did! this started as a bucky fic back when Falcon and the winter soildier was airing but never really liked it. now I love it and loved writting it so I hope you guys like it too! also I think it looks way nicer on ao3 but if you want to read it here I won't be mad about it

special thanks to my amaizing betta reader @devilish-mirage her notes and sweet words are what motivated me to continue!

also to @bassist-vortex whom I now own a lollypop bcs it's longer than 6k and didn't mind when I texted him at 2 am about being so fucking done drafting this.

Come on, breathe

In, out. In, out. One, two, three

“Fucking hell!!!” You winced avoiding to look his way, your hands quickly trailing up to cover your mouth, muffling the string of curses.

Your mind frantically ran through every and any single possible scenario trying to detach itself from the notorious pain from the side of your body, the sting running across your back when the soaking cotton made contact with the wounded skin.

Breathe, just breathe

Teeth sunk into your hand trying your best to drown the scream creeping from your throat, your other hand trembling while holding up the t-shirt you wore to make his job easier.

God

You couldn’t even look at him not when the probability of seeing him frowning at you was huge. One of his hands held you keeping you as still as he could while the other cleaned away the scrapes on your torso.

“Told you to be careful”

It was the first thing he said after getting home, Marc placed you on top of the kitchen table and ran to get the aid kid from the wardrobe in the back, cursing at Steven for moving it from the top of the fridge.

In and out, breathe

He tried his best not to prolong the pain, dabbing carefully and looking up to check your reaction, or at least he tried to but your eyes never shifted from the window and even if they did they never fell into him.

His tone was harsh fuelled by his immense worry, he shook his head pouring alcohol into a new cotton. He knew his way around this but the way your chest moved and breath picked up made him nervous, the hand that was once holding you trailed along the outside of your thigh trying to ease you, and yet you thought he was furious.

“¿Te lo dije, o no?”

“Fuck off” You hated getting scolded like a child, the guilt bubbling in your chest. You side-eyed him before shutting your eyes and slamming your hand on the table.

¡Respira maldita sea!

You tried your best to regulate yourself before looking back at him. His eyes never left the place where the wound was, sitting on a chair to be head level to it and with the trash bin on his side to discard everything he used.

You were scared and yet his fear was greater, he was about to fucking scream.

He’s done this thousands of times before, not as many as Marc but his sudden ‘shutdown’ left him with no choice but to attend your wounds.

For fucks sake Marc, couldn’t you choose a better time to freak out?

To be honest he didn’t blame him, it was only his nervousness taking the best of him. In the past he had attended his own wounds before making that stupid deal with the moon god that got him the suit, but it was you they were talking about, none of them wanted to see you in pain and the mere thought of not being able to help you was enough for Jake being pushed forward.

He tried his best to be quick, to not linger in his mind and finish up so you could rest, but the voice of the worried British man that lived in him didn’t make concentrating any easier.

“Steven, si no te callas juro que-“ He whispered to himself and sighed looking back at you “Mi amor, I need you to stay still, ‘kay?”

You nodded lifting the t-shirt even higher, finally deciding to grip it with your teeth, it wouldn’t get in his way and would work wonders muffling you. The pain was worst, He expected you to flinch when he started stitching the cut on your shoulder but for some reason your knuckles turning white when you gripped the edge of the table seemed to have a greater effect on him as his hand began to shudder. He took a deep breath and glanced at your pained expression before continuing.

Where was Layla in a moment like this?

Took them home, remember?

The reason why he had to clean you up in the first place, the guy who you saw across the pub bothering a girl and her friend. The thing is you knew the guy, he ruined the night out you had with a couple of friends some weeks ago. The boys weren’t at home when it happened and Layla had to travel thanks to her line of work to recover some stolen goods, so you decided that going for drinks with your best friend was a good idea.

And it was, it really was until that twat started to roam around you just like he was doing with the girls. You were out as a makeshift ‘goodbye party’ for Layla before she had to leave to secure a buyer for the recently collected stolen goods. Marc went for more drinks while she excused herself to the restroom, you? You walked across the venue to strike him as soon as his hand tried to reach for the girl’s bum.

There is a downside about being constantly surrounded by people who commune with the gods, you sometimes forget you aren’t more than a mere human, you don’t have powers nor a fancy suit and every blow you get can be mortal.

And so when his fist collided against your side taking almost all your breath out of you, it was your doom and yet the second blow seemed even worse, some people ran to help you, others held him but your mind was only on the young lass who shivered on her friend’s arms.

On the bright side Marc and Layla got there before he tried anything else and yet it seemed to be a tad late, you were dizzy and needed to go home. It wasn’t really that big of a deal and yet the pain was present, mostly from your ego being hurt, some from the actual punch.

Marc made sure he was kicked out and you companied Layla to bus stop after she offered to take the girls home, you craved the air on your face and the feeling of it filling your lungs once more not expecting to be followed on your way back to the car. You could see Marc waiting for you, leaning against the passenger’s side, you held your hand up ready to call for him when you felt it. It didn’t come to your mind that he would take it further than a punch, but the sharp pain on your shoulder and your blouse being tinted in crimson made you let out a loud scream, one of pure pain and fucking regret. Just in time for Marc to watch it.

“Just a few stitches left baby” He tried to reassure you but it only made your need to go at him grow “Come on, breathe”

It’s not like you weren’t reminding yourself of that, to just focus on your breathing and forget about what was going on, to detach yourself from the pain but it wasn’t that easy.

“¡Mierda Lockley!” You tilted your head to the side heavily breathing.

“that’s right” once you snapped back to reality he was throwing away the last bit on cotton and placing a bandage to secure the stitches and rubbing your back carefully “We’re done”

He placed a kiss near where the bandages were, the pearls of sweat glistened on both of your bodies and a tired laugh came from within your lips, still high on the adrenaline you locked eyes.

“Thanks baby”

“Just please… don’t try that shit again” You felt his touch, his hands brushing your hair away, the sweet gesture making you close your eyes nodding to his request.

But he knew better.

He knew just like every other occasion you wouldn’t listen, not to Marc, not to Steven and most certainly not to him. He would have to use both his hands to count how many times he had to drag your ass out of situations like this, times when he got in time before something bad happened and the line of curses directed at the other person slowly died down on the way back home.

“You should’ve let me”

Your arms were crossed in front of your chest as you stared at the road, Marc was the one fronting that particular night, driving both of you to the flat.

“I don’t want anything happening to you” he sighed, his eyes never leaving the road “I wouldn’t be able to take it”

Not all of the occasions where the same but had few things in common, you wanted to help and they had to talk some sense into you before the reckless part of your brain decided to take action. This time was different tho, they didn’t have the opportunity to stay on the talking stage of the little routine, resulting on the little pep talk you were immersed in.

He reached for you carefully trying to lift you but the touch was met with your hand pulling his away before resting your back on the table. He was confused but didn’t complain.

“Leave me here” your voice was barely audible as you dozed off “Wait for Layla in bed”

Layla, one of your best friends and the one who used to have your place in Marc’s heart. At first they tried but their relationship was complicated, too many lies and too many betrayals can doom any marriage, they knew that, they knew how much damage the lack of communication had caused and yet they couldn’t part from one another. Too much history and feelings to even try and explain, but she had to move on to find peace and so she left for a while with the promise of being for him whenever he needed her, the silence and loneliness being something he grew accustomed to and yet it left him aching for the love she gave him.

Then you appeared in the picture, Jake was fond of you since the moment his eyes laid on you, going out of his way to rearrange for you and Steven to meet, let’s just say both of them fancied the tiny moments they had with you, Steven taking you out in the mornings for a cup of tea to his favourite spot and Jake preferring to drive you around the city at night even if you didn’t know it was him. Then you found out about Marc in the worst way possible, at a pub drunk as he could get.

He knew it could trigger him to switch with more ease but there was also the possibility of his mind going quiet for a second, to forget that the woman he loved wasn’t on his side for just a moment, to think that he would find her when coming back home. That’s when he felt your touch on his back and a kiss on his cheek followed by the little pet name.

“Hi amor”

Fuck he was confused as to why in the middle of him grieving and yearning for Layla there was another person who touched him the same way he expected her to do so. Then he opened his mouth letting his confused tone swoon you.

Wasn’t this Steven? Wasn’t this the man you’ve been seeing for the past month and a half? You were pretty sure he was and yet the strong American accent said otherwise. Until there wasn’t one, his gaze softening and his lips twitching in a broken smile as he tried to explain what was going on with the same accent you’ve grew to love.

You worked things out but not before scolding Jake for letting you believe they didn’t understand those little confessions of love you offered in your mother tongue. That’s how you started to date the three of them, completely mesmerized by every part of your moon boys. Then Layla came back, but not as the lover she used to be but as a friend, as the shoulder Marc could lay on whenever he needed, a place he could feel safe and someone who slowly became just as much as a necessity for you as it did for him.

“Mi amor, she’ll kill me if she finds you here alone” he laughed when you pushed his face softly “y no quiero dejarte”

“Jake, ya… porfa” He saw the way your chest movements slowed down finally falling asleep. He went towards the bed grabbing a pillow and blanket, placing it carefully under your head and covering your body to keep you warm.

You’ll probably be sore in the morning but right now the best he could do was leave you to rest.

He sat back where he once was, right next to you and his hand instinctively reaching for yours. The flat would’ve been in complete silence if it weren’t for your soft snores and the humming form Jake, singing under his breath a song he heard not so long ago, the one you played that rare morning while making breakfast. The aroma of coffee and tea dragging him out of bed only to find you wearing his t-shirt and underwear, moving your hips to the melody and mouthing the words.

“How are they?” Layla creeped through the front door slowly trying to not wake you up.

“Tired…” he rubbed his eyes trying to remain awake.

“It seems they’re not the only one” She kissed the top of his head and tapped his shoulder “You should go to sleep, I’ll keep an eye on them”

“Nah, nah. I stay, you can take the bed”

She shook her head as amused as irritated, she always knew how stubborn her boys could be, always wanting to have the last word and yet they hadn’t learn. There’s no use on fighting with her, she would be the one in the right but it amazed her how they always tried. She pushed his curls backwards leaning to be on eye level.

“Jake Lockley, either you go to sleep or I’ll drag you to bed”

He chuckled rolling his eyes grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Yes ma’am”

The cold of the night slowly became a chill morning as the hours passed, the drapes didn’t do much to cover the light that came through the window hitting your face, those moments after waking up were precious, where everything seemed fine thanks to having no recollection of what happened the night prior or even who you were, until you tried to move putting all your weight into the wounded arm and the sharp pain finished the job of waking you up completely. You kicked the blanket out of the way and saw the bruising and scrapes creeping from under your clothes.

“Mierda” you slipped right back where you once laid with a thud, hearing the creek of the chair on your side.

Layla rubbed her eyes yawning and her hand moved some curls out of her face, she was still wearing the same clothes she had on last night, her leather jacket hung from the chair she was sitting on and the traces of makeup in her face told you everything you needed to know. She didn’t get much sleep last night either.

“Good morning trouble maker” her tone was soft as her hand reached to mess with your hair before walking to the cupboard where you store the glasses “The boys are sleeping… it was hard to convince Jake to stay in bed all night”

Your forearm laid on your face covering your eyes, now that the rush of adrenaline and anger from last night wore off it became easier to think, to realize how fucking reckless you’ve been and how punching a guy twice your size wasn’t the brightest idea you could think of, but it was hard to make up good ideas with an intoxicated mind and the fear on a young girl’s face.

And then stopping your mind was almost impossible as it recalled every single detail of the night, how Layla rushed to talk with the girls while Marc took the guy form the collar of his shirt dragging him outside followed by a blurry ride home with him talking to you and telling you that everything was okay. You knew those words weren’t meant for you but for him, telling himself over and over again that you were okay, because you had to be okay, he reminded himself that it was just a cut in your arm, that it wasn’t even that deep and even if it was the first time you’ve ever been hurt like this you would still live.

“I wouldn’t be able to take it”

He probably blamed himself for not reacting sooner and Steven was probably trying to ease him. Trying his damn best to stop the tears that built up in his eyes, gripping the steering wheel with such force that you knew his hands would probably hurt the next morning; Steven would’ve taken control then and there if he wasn’t just as scared as Marc was.

Puta madre

“I’m sorry” you sighed, voice breaking “I’ll never do it again”

The coldness of the glass against your arm made you peek from behind it to find her handing you some painkillers along with water. “I know” she simply said

“No use on getting emotional, ‘kay?” the closest thing to a reassuring smile formed on her face, it was the best one she could give you right now at least, to convince you it wasn’t that big of a deal and yet you could sense the undertone worry.

“You want me to help you before heading out?” she pointed at you and gestured towards the bed where your partner’s slept.

She saw you shaking your head before slowly getting up, she tried to help you but you brushed her hand away – you needed this, to know that you were still able to take care of yourself even after that mayor screw up – before embracing her in a much needed hug, she held you close while making sure not to squeeze to hard. She remembers the first time she got hurt like this and knew how painful it really was.

“Do you have to leave so soon? Marc’s more bitchy than usual after you’re gone” you closed your eyes to the feeling of her hair brushing your face, the scent of honey flooding your senses. She rested her chin on your unwrapped shoulder.

“I know” she breathed out, there was a slight undertone of worry on her voice, one so miniscule that you didn’t really catch it “But I know you can manage him”

You smiled.

She left you all alone, the light creeping in and the cold wood under your feet sending shivers down your spine, the painkillers were starting to take affect as you felt drowsier, you crawled into bed, careful not to wake up the man sleeping besides you or to accidentally hurt the damaged shoulder. The feeling of his arm instinctively reaching out for you was soothing you to finally go back to sleep.

~☽☾~

You expected after opening your eyes to be greeted by an empty bed, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be left behind like that and you really didn’t mind it. Both Marc and Steven thrived in the mornings, the rush of waking up early and get things done just before heading out, to be totally honest it amassed you how even after staying passed midnight Steven still managed to get up before the sun even rose while Jake was the total opposite, who’s only reason to leave your side and the warmth of the oh so comfortable bed – Steven had such a nice bed for someone who tried for so long not to fall asleep – was to be able to surprise you with a breakfast with some ‘flavour in it’.

His words, not yours. Poor Steven couldn’t seem to see the end of it when he cooked for the two of you, Jake pestering him about adding something that once lived and now tasted better with some hot sauce on top.

The morning birds and your night owl.

But the sight the morning granted you was worthy of heaven. Steven holding you close to him completely fixated by the shapes he traced on your thigh still covered by the blanket, he looked up after you inevitably left out the breath you didn’t know were holding in, you saw the small wrinkles on the corner of his eyes once he smiled at you.

“Morning love” it wasn’t long until you realized that his every move where slow and careful, almost calculated as if he was scare to shift a wrong way and cause you immense pain. He kissed your temple “Didn’t want to wake you up”

His accent was thicker in the mornings, a mixed of his tiredness and the dehydration from the night prior, you had the habit of taking a glass of water with you to bed, having it by your side in case either of you was thirsty but from all your boys, the only who refused to drink from the water you provided was Steven.

“Happy you didn’t” you turned to face him ignoring the immediate discomfort, you replicated his smile only yours was tinted whit malice “I would’ve kicked you out of bed”

He couldn’t help but laugh

“You’re… unbelievable” you felt him turning away, trying to get up but your arms moved quicker than your mind could proses it, wrapping them around his waist to prevent him to moved.

The pain from your torso came back, a quick reminder to keep you in place.

Slowly

“Stay” you tried to pull him closer but the pain was making it harder than it normally was “Please?”

He turned to look at you, the pained expression on your face made his gut stir, to say he was worried was an understatement, Steven was mortified by your state. It was written all over his face and in the way his fingers were almost shaking in the moment he placed a revel strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll make us some tea” he leaned in to kiss your forehead and his hand cupped the side of your face “It’ll make you feel better”

“I don’t want to feel better… I only want to feel you” your voice was low and raspy, you moved closer burring yourself in the crook of his neck, your good arm held the weight and while the other gently wrapped over his shoulders keeping him in place, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“How about this…” he said after a beat of silence, his hand rubbed softly the arm around him and the smell of citrus with a hint of cinnamon flooded your senses, his hair was messier than usual and you couldn’t see his face but from the way his breaths became more irregular you knew his eyes were glued to your shoulder and his mind to your torso “I’ll bring us some tea and we stay in bed, yeah? I was thinking maybe some movies”

Be careful

You nodded against his neck, your nose rubbing against his skin sending shivers down his spine, he gave a light pat to your arm before kissing it and walking away from your side, you almost could feel yourself slipping back, your arm giving up under the pressure only making you whine when your back hit against the mattress, you left your hands where they landed taking almost all the space in bed.

The mornings beside Steven were nice, starting your day with tea – while Marc preferred the taste of morning coffee and Jake settled with a cold glass of water – and vegan breakfast, sometimes there was toast with jam spread on top, other times it was scrambled eggs with beans to the side; today he completely outdid himself, coming back with a stack of pancakes drizzled with honey and frozen berries on top, a little cup filled with bananas and your tea in hand. He placed your cup by your side and kissed the top of your head while his hand cupped the crane of your neck and the little gesture sent sparks to your heart.

You tried to reach for the cup but Steven beat you to it, passing the hot beverage to you. It was milky and smelled like cinnamon and honey.

“Wait…” your head turned to look at him once both of you were tucked back in bed, your laptop proned on his chest so that both of you could see it while cuddling, he turned to look at you raising his eyebrows “Does this mean the bookstore trip is cancelled?”

“We can do that later” you used his arm as a makeshift pillow while he held you close, his hand covered your eyes playfully “right now you need to rest”

“No I don’t” you shifted to your side, putting your weight on your elbow almost peering over him.

From there you saw how he rolled his eyes and still kept a tiny smile on his face, how the laptop was placed on the floor for a moment so he could shift on his side. Now that you both were staring into each other’s faces you could see it, it was faint but it was there.

He was scared, the doe eyes he tried to suppress where still there as his worry ate him alive. You really fucked up, didn’t you? He reached for you, brushing the side of your body and accidentally making pressure near your waist. He saw first-hand how your face screwed up and you hissed at the sudden contact.

Too harsh

“I think you do” the tired tone didn’t match the perked up eyebrow adorning his face, he turned to reach once more for the electronic device and all you could do was scoff.

It really wasn’t the fact that you had to cancel your plans that bothered you, neither was spending away your Saturday evening watching movies with Steven, but you felt like a burden. You were the reason they had to come home earlier last night, why Marc couldn’t spend more time with Layla even if you knew how much he had been looking out for it and why now Steven couldn’t go out scavenging for new books to fill the blank spaces in his bookshelves, because even if you insisted for him to just go without you he wouldn’t even budge.

Calm down.

Steven was glad you couldn’t hear his thoughts or you would get a glance of how he really didn’t know how to approach you right now, he tried his best to just breath it out but his first instinct was to leave you in bed and just sit on the chair by the end of it, just coming closer when you needed something, because he didn’t want to cause you pain. But he knew better, he knew that the moment he went away from your reach he would be causing you an ever greater pain, so he settled for distracting both of you from it until it was time for him to bring you the next dosage of painkillers.

You picked the movie, an animated one that you haven’t seen since you left college. You laid with his arm around you, his warmth mixed with the blanket and heather helped you not to shiver, as the hours passed the temperature started to descend and the movie ended just in time for Steven to make a quick trip to the kitchen, bringing you back a glass of water and a tablet of medicine, you opened your mouth slightly sticking your tongue out so he could place it there before handing the glass to you.

You saw how he strolled back and forth before coming back to bed, taking away the dirty dishes and bringing both of you a new cup filled with tea, his was sweet while yours was sour. You liked the taste of sweetness in the morning when it was still blissful and quiet while opting for a more strong taste in the later hours, maybe it had something to do with the fact that you could never seem to find sugar at work and always forget to bring your own, and right now that’s what you needed the most, a sense of familiarity and a taste of your routine.

Like everything was fine, like you didn’t mess up.

“Steven?” the next movie had already been going for a couple of minutes before you decided to speak up, at this point you weren’t even paying attention to it, only using the sound from the laptop as a way to drown out the otherwise silent flat and loud mind.

“Do you need something love?” he paused the movie already getting up.

Keep calm

You shook your head and looked the other way, trying hard to avoid his stare.

“I just…” trying to gulp down the knot forming in your throat was hard. The guilt from yesterday’s events was revived and you couldn’t stop but think of how everything would’ve been different if you just listened “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the night or today for that matter, I really wanted us to go and– “

He called for your name as he moved closer towards you “It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize”

“But I do!” there was an urge bubbling in the pit of your stomach, to find a culprit and the only person available to be condemned was you “I was dumb and reckless, and you always tell me but I never listen, and if only I listened this wouldn’t have happened”

“You saw being picked on and you went out of your way to help” his hand cupped your face softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb “There’s nothing to apologize for that”

“Still–“ you felt pressure on your face as he pushed his forehead against yours, it was nice. It helped you to notice how you were tangling your hands with the blanket, gripping it hard.

“Tell that little nob of yours to stop nattering” you closed your eyes trying to focus solely on his voice and drown out the thoughts that crossed your mind, you felt the way the mattress moved under his weight when he approached you, his face finding its way towards your neck “And come take a bath… you stink” his words came through with laughter and your eyes suddenly opened as you gasped.

“You little shit!”

Taking your shirt off was a challenge he imposed himself, unable to stand watching you while you struggled to even move the arm, you tried to push him away but after a while of just fighting with it you left him do it instead. The fabric being pulled and thrown away, his calloused hands were soft against your skin careful not to tuck at the bandages that kept the wound shielded from his eyes, it was better that way, the immense relieve of not having to face it just yet, avoiding thinking about it, avoiding acknowledging it besides the lingering knowledge that he had to give you a new dosage of painkillers just after shower and not to be too rough near it.

He could just pretend it didn’t exist for a few more minutes before he had to clean it and change it. Out of sight, out of mind.

The same can’t be said by the bruising and scratches on your torso, splotches of purple and green mixed with crimson dashes reminded you of watercolour and your hand instinctively mode to it. It was captivating, brushing near it without making any pressure, oh but was it tempting. Alluring you almost, like a chant that made you compliant to the urge to dig into it, to just lean into the splashes on your side and make sure that it wasn’t just a trick of the light.

But it wasn’t the light, it was an admonition. Don’t indulge into affairs of the gods and don’t drift into the business of others.

He reacted quicker than you did, managing to pull you away from those thoughts, his hand guided yours away from your skin and his lips left soft kisses on your neck as it was the closest he dare to get to the wound.

Steven made sure the water was warm and not too hot or too cold before he helped you get into the tub. He sat right next to it, scrubbing away the sweat and worried from you with the help of a sponge, you wanted to move his hands away, to take it from him but you aching body wouldn’t let you. So you just indulged against your wishes to the care your partner provided, he made sure to not get to close to your shoulder and to clean away quickly near your ribs.

The water echoed in the tiled room and the light steam from the tub painted the mirror, his hands were all over you but it didn’t feel dirty at all, the care that grazed his gestures as he moved from your legs to your torso and finally your arm, moving it around slowly to scrub it clean, while making sure you were alright.

“Does this hurt?” “Just let me know” “Do you need a break?”

You tilted your head, peering from the edge of the tub to look at him, his figure was soaked, his arms covered in water and soap reaching to the rolled up sleeves of his jumper, the stains where the water had splashed were darker and somehow his hair had managed to also get wet, your heart ached with the need to pull him inside with you and repay the favour by scrubbing his worries away, clean him of the nasty thoughts that tormented him.

“Steven” If it hadn’t been by the calmness in your voice he would’ve thought that something he did hurt you, maybe his hands were harsher on your scratches, maybe he moved your arm too hard and your shoulder was resenting it or maybe he was just too worried to be around you at the moment. He looked back at you rising his eyebrow and with what resembled a smile “Thank you for this”

You closed your eyes in time for him to kiss your lips, it was soft and quick but filled with the unconditional love you had for one another.

“Any time, love”

~☽☾~

You had to call in sick for work and explained what happened, you tried to push it back for as long as you could but Saturday came to an end and with that the deadline was something you had to face, at the middle of your peaceful Sunday Steven went away as Jake pushed himself to front ‘quiero ver tu carita hermosa’ was the excuse he gave that granted him with you smiling immensely and rolling your eyes, for him it was amusing seeing you faking being annoyed.

Right now you couldn’t be gladder to be sleeping and waking up beside him, after Steven thought it would be a great idea to put pillows in the middle of the bed to keep you ‘safe’, to keep you away from his touch. But Jake just laughed at the thought as he embraced you in his arms, softly but steady, feeling your chest moving as you breathing relaxed him into sleeping better, the pressure in his arms helping him to sleep through the night and the strong scent of his cologne having the same effect on you. You got up thanks to the smell of breakfast and the feeling of emptiness besides you, it was weird that you missed it but right now being left behind was the last thing you needed.

“Buenos días dormilona” he took the pillow on his side of the bed, letting it fall right in front of your face and this muffling your groans “roncas horrible, did ya know?

That little bitch

A shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, the one you’ve got to know real well, his hair was pristinely combed back and was wearing only a pair of boxers – which wasn’t unusual –, while Marc preferred to wear them combined with a t-shirt to bed and Steven couldn’t even fathom the idea of not wearing pants while sleeping. He preferred to lay with you like that, to be able to feel with every inch of his skin that you were there besides him, to know you were his and – right now – to know that you were okay.

“Mira quién habla” you scoffed at him, pulling the pillow into your arms, pressing it down a bit against your chest, the markings on your torso being something that don’t bother you as much anymore, and you were grateful because that meant that you could enjoy being able to feel his rougher grip on your waist as he hugged you against him. “You talk in your sleep and I never say shit about it”

He licked his lips trying to supress a smirk.

“I’m confessin’, mi amor. That’s between Konshu and I”

His tone was condescending and yet you knew he meant no ill intent by it. He saw you get out of bed and how you were struggling to get out of the shirt you wore to sleep, but he didn’t budge, knowing that if you needed his help you would ask for it. Eventually you did, he didn’t mind at all helping you take them off, enjoying the sight of you and to leave a trail of kisses along your back, on your shoulder blades and slowly coming up to the nape of your neck. You kept those little instances close to your heart, savouring the moment with closed eyes and total silence, to hear the loud ‘smack’ that his lips did against your skin. His hands trailed from your stomach, past the bruises and scratches on your waist and ribs to stop barely under your chest.

The movement was made with ease as if he knew not to tiptoe around you. To not make you feel weird about it.

Maybe it had something to do with your upbringing, after all, growing up in a house were movement meant working and that correlated to the amount of recognition you got, the praise and love being tide with how useful you made yourself to be. You couldn’t stand to be put, feeling ill and remaining still making you anxious. For some reason you thought that feeling couldn’t be topped by anything else and then you discovered it, being a burden was something much worse.

But Jake somehow knew about that, at times you felt like he could hear your thoughts just glancing at you, reading you like an open book. And so his steady grasp was there when he help you get a new shirt – one with the smell of his cologne – with all the unsaid feelings and longing for each other.

You could feel how much he craved to pull you closer, to forget about what had happened and just loose himself in your lips. For his mind to go quiet as it couldn’t focus on anything else but you, in your hands pulling him closer, to be engulfed by you. Or maybe you were the one with those cravings.

You walked up to the kitchen, taking a look at the now empty glass still placed on the table, the droplets of water rolling down from the water Jake took a few minutes ago. You ate the breakfast he cooked, the boiled eggs with enchiladas bringing you some remembrance of peace, you tried your best to stay grounded, to be present in the moment but he noticed how your mind trailed in the midst of it, a look he knew too well because he has been the one wearing it in the past. He was worried about you, not so much for the wounds that adorned your body, he knew how tough his partner was and that they could take that shit with ease, no, what really worried him was your mind.

Because he knew you like the palm of his hands and know how it wouldn’t give you a rest, filled with thoughts that even if Steven tried his best to scare away they still remained. He would do anything to help you stop them, he just needed you to open up about it. There was something else, something you weren’t telling him, something that bugged you with no end but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He called your name like someone does after being ignored for a while, maybe it was because of the way your fork had been circling against the empty plate or your lost gaze that’s being seeing right past him or even just because he has handed you the tablets of medicine as he refilled your glass with water.

You felt exhausted and scared that he might share the sentiment.

“Lo siento” you took the pills from him plopping it in your mouth and drowning it along with your words.

“Esta bien mi amor” his hand was now on your hair messing it up, he knew how much it annoyed you but he didn’t care because he also knew how much you tried to supress the fact that you actually enjoyed whenever he and Layla did it. “You don’t have to apologize”

“No, es que…” you inhaled sharp, looking up at him. His body was leaning on the table, his weight on both of his arms and the dangling star adorning his neck. “I messed up that night and-“

“I know what you meant, but you don’t have to worry about it” he crunched down, now he being the one looking up at you and you slouched feeling the back of his hand rubbing against your cheek “The bastard is gone, we made sure of that. And you’re okay”

“Wait you did?” You saw him nod content, there was that relief washing your features, not more furrowed eyebrows and worried eyes. “When?”

“no importa amor, lo que importa…” he got up helping you do the same, the feeling of your hands on his was something he couldn’t get enough of, the softness of them against his tainted skin sending a shock of tranquillity through his body “is that you lived to be annoyed by me for another day”

He saw the hesitance creeping back in your eyes and how this fixated in the way your thumb rubbed the back of his hand, tracing the scars that remained on them.

“Hey” his voice was soft, your foreheads pressed against each other and his nose softly brushing yours “Everything is okay”

“You promise?”

“I do” his grip on your hands became sturdier “And I’m no liar”

You left out a tired chuckle “Only when it benefits you”

“Hate the game not the player” the corner of his lips tugged up once more in that stupid grin you fell in love with. He came closer, his hands coming up to grab your head, you leaned into the touch, your hands wrapping around his wrists with a smile on your face.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes” you rolled your eyes but you weren’t actually annoyed, he knew that and you knew that he did.

“I’m pretty sure it is” he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours and your arms trailed slowly around his neck, the discomfort was there and yet it was eclipsed by the pure ecstasy of tasting him, of having his hands not caring of your damaged skin, grabbing it to keep you right there for him.

Your leg moved up and he helped you to place them around his waist, to have you pressed against him. You could feel your stomach beginning to swirl in anticipation, your shirt riling up when he carried you carefully through the messy apartment back to bed. That bed, that precious bed that held you still like a home you don’t seem to be able to leave, your place of rest for the past two days. Coming to the point of feeling chained to it but right now, in this moment felt more like a throne than a prison.

Where you normally found desire and desperation with torn fabric and sloppy kisses was only love and peace, the care that he felt being transmitted to you. He needed you to realize and understand how much they loved you, for you to understand that forgiveness wasn’t something they could grant you, because it was something only you could give yourself. They didn’t blame you for anything that happened and you needed to understand that, god he really hoped you understood it. It wasn’t your fault.

It was written in all his actions, in how his lips grazed over the purple, green and scabs in his way down, because he knew how it felt to be ashamed of having a wounded body – even if the damaged was caused by protecting someone – and he refused on giving you that option. His hands holding your legs in place while he ripped sweet sounds of pleasure right from your throat.

Those words he gave you just minutes ago replaying in your mind like a chant that would be cemented in your brain for the rest of your days. “I promise, everything is okay”

His lips pressed against yours, shaky breaths clashing against them as you felt his grip on your hips and the way his eyes roamed your face for a sign to stop. There wasn’t.

Everything is okay

His curls hanging on your face while he kept a steady pace, not to rough but not to slow. Just like you needed, he mumbling sweet nothings in Spanish right against your ear, the words falling almost in desperation for you to catch them and keep them near your heart.

Everything is okay.

Your hands intertwined together faces adorned by blissful smiles.

Everything is okay

~☽☾~

Your arm was extended In front of you, the back of his hand against your palm as you tried to analyse every aspect of it, laying on the couch was nice, after talking for a bit while scavenging through the flat and realizing you were all out of snack both of you decided to go buy the missing ingredients for cinnamon rolls, the grocery bags laid on the kitchen counter still packed as the two of you laid together on the couch with a blanket laying across your lap, your back leaned against his chest and his fingers playing with your hair with the occasional kiss being left on the crown of your head.

“How about I become a vigilante?” you jokingly said, the humorous tone made him tilt back his head before nudging it against yours.

“How about ya don’t?” he said only half joking, if you didn’t know him as well as you did you would’ve thought he was angry at you, but he wasn’t.

It was hard reading Lockley sometimes, to the untrained eye it would seem like his waking days where just a cruel joke he had to live through, that he was angry just for existing but in actuality he just had that kind of face, the one that keeps people at arm’s length even if he is nothing but polite, forcing him to just cherish the company of the few people who seemed to look past it. Enjoying his time with the ones he cares about, going out of his way to see Crawley every now and then, going to Gena’s dinner whenever he had the chance, texting with Layla every other month and spending all the time he could by your side.

“Come on! It would be fun, I could star sparing with-“ you took a deep breath before continuing “At least you have to admit I would look great, covered in battle scars” you let go of his hand and leaned to the side to look at him comfortably.

He shook his head.

“Me gustas asi” he left a kiss on your wounded shoulder, it was loud but didn’t leave traces of pain “no te cambiaría nada”

The feeling of him pressed against you was comforting, the warmth of his body making the pain tolerable and traces of guilt only an afterthought that you didn’t even focus on instead the migraine inducing reminder that it was. And yet your mind didn’t seem to feel like giving up, making that aching question that you’ve managed to push back for a while something more present and distracting.

“So…” you said elongating the ‘o’ “I know you’re not mad at me”

He hummed for you to continue, there was a small frown on his face as he paid close attention to your words.

“And I know neither is Steven” you tried your best to find the exact words to describe what you were feeling, thinking, aching to ask but it was hard, why was it so hard? You sighed “But I… ¿Qué hay de Marc?”

“¿Qué con él?” His fingers grazed through the side of your arm as a way to tell you ‘hey, it’s fine! You can do it’

“Is he mad at me?” you blurred out, finally spitting out the thought that made your stomach swirl, you glanced at him before looking down to your hands, resting on your lap “I mean, even Layla has called to check on me and-“ you sucked in a breath, his hand reaching out to tangle in between yours “I haven’t heard from him since it happened”

“No mi amor” he pulled you in closer to him, as close as he could without harming you in any way. “He’s ashamed”

He couldn’t stand the tint of guilt creeping back into your words or the way you seemed to become smaller, hunching away from his embrace, how the seemingly nice afternoon turned slowly in something more. You turned to look at him, scooping to the other side of the sofa away from his reach.

“He feels like… this is his fault” he confessed, his eyes looking briefly to your shoulder before coming back to meet your gaze and his hand reached to his temple “and he’s fuckin’ yellin’ all of the sudden”

You wanted to ask for him, to be able to hold Marc and reassure him that none of this was his fault, but you were hesitant, never demanding any of your boyfriends to front before. But the need was there and it was big, so scared of what his mind could be telling him, because for a moment it reminded you of the echoes of your own thoughts. You knew Marc, how he could get caught up into himself, so blinded by the bad thoughts that kept him in place. Sure you had bad days but you also saw how hard his ‘good days’ seemed to be, coming close to those where you weren’t able to leave the bed without some encouragement.

Yet Jake seemed to understand just what you needed without having to spell it out for him and in a split second he was gone, pulling marc to the front. You saw how his eyes grew larger with hesitance and the fear that coated them, how his eyebrows were furrowed and the way his lip trembled as he backed, pressing his back harder into the sofa, and a sudden rush of coldness passing through made you shiver. You reached for his arm but he flinched at the movement, the striking paint going from the tip of your fingers to the wound in the shoulder and tearing a whine out from the depths of your throat.

“Fuck” he said, his eyes frantically looking at you – trailing from your eyes to your chest, down your hands, hips and back to your eyes but not the shoulder, never the shoulder- as he couldn’t stop his body from shaking, It felt weird seeing him like this, frail and scared. Like those nights he would wake up drenched in sweat from a nightmare and would plea you to go back to sleep before going for a new glass of water. But right now it was a bit different, looking like a stray animal that tried to find shelter out of reach from reckless kid that tried to pet him.

Because of you

You saw him becoming stiffer in front of you, how his breath seemed to come to a pause as his hands tried to reach out for you even if his mind screamed to do the opposite, to keep you away where he couldn’t hurt you anymore. The thing about Spector is that he knew deep down, under all the love and longing that he had for you how much danger you were in just by knowing his name, by wrapping your arms around him as you slept together with his back against your chest, and by having a knight for company.

Because that’s what he was and with that came the responsibility of protecting you, even if you insisted and proved how capable you were on taking care of yourself, it was something he felt obligated to do, to keep you safe since that tumultuous night you stumbled into him. Since he fell in love with your soft words and careful touches as if you knew how much damage he has gone through and just how badly he longed for someone to soothe him back to sleep.

When his mind decided it would be great to bring back those faces of the people he had managed to cause pain along his path.

In a loud house a silent room is a blessing, tucking his heart under the bed where the noise doesn’t reach. It’s only a matter of time until he learned that a loud house is something out of the ordinary, something to fear and want to escape from.

Fuck the loud noises, the yelling and screaming. Fuck the shattered plates and thrown pots, the cracking belts and the stinging hands.

He just wanted the peace, security and quietness of a tranquil house, a noiseless home. Things that you handed to him with ease, as if it was something so common, something that didn’t come from obligation, because it was so normal and yet he couldn’t comprehend that something like that could ever be given to him, even if someone had already done it before.

And yet you did. You gave it away without whining or expecting anything in return from Marc because the spark in those brown eyes and the creases that formed around his mouth whenever he smiled was enough pay for you. Feeling the need to scream into the wind how much you loved Marc Spector, to let the world know that no matter what happened you would be by his side. No, to be by their side, because your love didn’t stop at one of them, it seemed like your heart was made in the perfect way to fit into theirs, like a puzzle piece that would be incomplete otherwise.

He tried his best to remember that, to know that everything was okay but he saw how much he had been a toll in other people’s lived and he dreaded the idea of becoming one in yours. He noticed how less frequently your mom called since you started to date him, how you made up excuses not to go back home since you started to live together and how your spark seemed to die down whenever someone pointed out your hometown, it was miniscule but it was there and it pained him.

“Marc” you called for him, he had no idea when both of you left their place on the sofa or when you took his hands in yours, your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of his, making his chest ache in the process, seeing the worry building up in your features.

He should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.

His hands left yours as soon as he realized, blinking to fight back the tears that started to pile up in the corner of his eyes. This was too much, the air starting to feel heavy and the walls seemingly closer than normal and yet to far apart, no matter how much air filled his lungs it wasn’t enough and he just wanted to go.

“Hey” you took his hand slowly placing it on your chest, his eyes following along. He saw the way your chest moves steady and slow, he tried his best to mimic the rhythm closely but it was hard “breathe” you mouthed, noticing how hard it was for him to actually listen to your voice.

Run

You saw the way he shook his head creating more distance between the two of you, not bearing to touch you knowing what he had caused.

“I- I shouldn’t have…” he tried to speak up but the dryness of his throat made it almost impossible, his hands reached to his chest pushing down on it in hopes for ease the pain growing on it and maybe even being able to push out the words in the process “It’s my fault, I should’ve gone with you, I shouldn’t have left you alone”

He stumbled through his words, trying hard not to listen to what his mind was telling him and instead stay with you and talk things through, he wanted to scape, to go back inside so whoever wanted to take his place could but he pushed through it, feeling both Jake and Steven close to him as if reassuring him with those same words he kept repeating to himself this past days ‘everything is okay’.

You wanted to run and pull him into a hug, to keep him safe and snugged against yourself with your hearts beating near each other but didn’t know if that was the right thing to do.

“Marc” you breathed “It wasn’t your fault, I wanted to go alone”

You were crunched over still trying to even out your breath, it was hard almost impossible with the circle of people around you, leaving barely enough space for you to think.

Layla was too focused on calming down the brunette girl that seemingly could cry a river all by herself, the one that trembled under her friend’s touch as she dragged her hand along her back to ease her. You wished the world would go silent for a moment so you could hear what they were saying without having to move.

That’s when you saw him walking back, almost sprinting to your side after getting rid of the guy that punched you. He wanted to make him pay for what he had done but the thought of you heaving here all alone while Layla made sure the girls were okay was enough to drag him back with that need being unfulfilled.

He reached out to you, helping you to get back on your two feet and getting a whine out of you.

“Are you-“

“Okay?” you cut him out nodding, the pain was there but nothing you couldn’t breathe through “Yes, don’t- yes bebé”

“Hey so…” Layla leaned on Marc’s shoulder once she was back “the girl’s came alone, apparently her birthday? Also exchange students” she sighed “They have no one who can pick them up or take them home”

“I- We can take them” you heaved through, still trying to recollect your breath.

“No” she shook her head and placed a hand on your shoulder “You need to rest, I’ll go with them, make sure they are safe”

You looked at them understanding that there was no way of changing that.

“I guess” you sucked in a breath and closed one of your eyes in a pained expression “But let me walk you to the bus stop, I need some fresh air”

Her eyes drifted away from you as she thought about it for a while, desperately wanting to say no but once she looked back at you, she understood exactly what you were thinking of.

“I guess” she finally said.

“I’ll go with you” he voiced out, his eyes left Layla’s to look back at you, he knew just how stubborn both of you were but hoped he could convince you somehow.

You shook your head chuckling and patted his chest “It’s not far, I’ll see you at the car”

You needed this, to be alone for a second. To know that you could be one minute without being scared, to know that this wouldn’t become something you’ll be afraid of next time you wanted to go out.

“I should’ve insisted” he wanted to step back but for some reason his legs weren’t responding to his commands, hot tears beginning to stream down his face.

You moved slowly towards him, afraid of making a wrong move that would scare him away. One hand resting on his chest while the other reached to wipe away his tears and slowly guiding him to look at you.

“Oh bebé…” it was soft and short but full of memories.

“No” he shook his head placing his jacket on ready to go down street with you “I’m going”

“Marc, please…” you weren’t asking anymore, you were begging to him and he noticed it “I need this”

He was afraid of the funny feeling in his gut telling him to not let you win, to push back and go with you even if you would be all moody in your way back home but the pleading eyes were too much, the sound of your desperate voice asking for his trust.

He sighed

“It’s my fault” he said once more and you couldn’t tell if those words were directed to you or to himself. His voice felt tinted by the bitter ring of Wendy’s and Jake grew angry at them while Steven felt pure sorrow.

“It’s not your fault” pushing through the pain your hands guided his head to press his forehead against yours “everything is okay”

It wasn’t much of a reminder this time, it was a promise.

It took a while to get him out of that heavy mind-set, his breathing becoming less frantic when he finally started to listen, to actually understand what the words that you gave him meant. He tried hard not to flinch away when your fingers reached for his, keeping the little hiccups at bay when your hand ran through his back, his eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, and he told you how his nose felt stuffy when you passed him a napkin. You tried to cheer him up, cleaning away the mess from his face while he apologized for ‘everything’, you didn’t exactly know what everything meant for him though and you wished to believe he only meant to apologize for forgetting how none of this was caused by him, for forgetting that his arms where the place that made you feel like you were truly home. Of course you reminded him with a simple ‘it’s fine’.

“How about we make the cinnamon rolls?” his eyes remained closed and his head leaned against your touch when you brushed his dark curls away from his face, enjoying the view of his now relaxed expression.

You always found it funny how your lovers shared the same face and yet they had their unique way of making it ‘theirs’, how they managed to look so different.

“Yeah, I’d like that” he replied nodding slightly, he felt you pulling your hand away and held it in place to leave a small kiss before any contact between the two of you was lost.

“Just… remember to double check” you laughed seeing him rolling his eyes, he pushed softly your hip with his fist before leaning to take out the bowl you always used while baking.

It was nice, knowing he wasn’t scared of being around you as he was a couple of hours ago.

“I swear the salt and sugar look the same!” he wrapped his arms around you.

Careful

He reminded himself once more, this time it wasn’t directed to Jake while patching you up or to Steven while dressing you down but to silence all the other nasty thoughts that threatened to ruin once more his time with you. He wouldn’t let them win, not this time at least.

He couldn’t let them because he wanted this, to spend his time away next to you, craving desperately to hear that laugh that melted his heart away and forget once and for all that anything bad could happened or that occurred in the first place. Nothing would keep that pleasure away from Marc, not even himself.

By the time you were done there were splotches of flours on your clothes and face, not even the kitchen counter and floors were speared of the mess. Marc’s proud smile when he passed you the sugar instead of the salt container was picture worthy and you tried multiple times to sneak a taste from the uncooked batter just for him to smack your hand away making you giggle.

He took a little bit of glazing with his fingers for you to taste, it was delicious.

You were laying on the floor, the cool hardwood floor contrasting with the heat coming from the oven, it was nice, the mix of the cool temperature on your back with the slight warm on the air, there weren’t a lot of things left to say emerging yourself in the comfortable silence, it only being disrupted by the ticking clock on top of the counter that counted down the seconds until the rolls were finally done. After a little while of lying next to Marc he finally spoke up, a little ”hey” rushing from him.

You turned to look at him, his eyes set on the ceiling and a smile slowly making itself present on his face, shining like stars in the night sky.

“Have I ever told you, what I thought when I first saw you?” it came with traces of laughter, the embarrassment of reminding that night mixed with pure disbelief.

You shook your head “No”

“I just- I just wanted to kiss you” the lights were dim making it hard to see, but you knew his face would be glowing in a lovely shade of crimson as he moved his hand covering his eyes “I couldn’t believe someone like you would walk up to that mess and call me amor”

It was late at night in the pub near his old apartment, the one he used to share with Layla, he couldn’t be further from home but he didn’t mind it – Steven’s flat never really felt like home to him anyways – as he could use some time walking alone with his thoughts, it wasn’t that late into the night but he was already as drunk as he could be and it was time to get going, he just needed to remember where his keys were.

It would also be really helpful to be able to stand up without gobbling and plastering his face on the floor. His head rested in between his hands leaning on the bar with a glass of whiskey he didn’t remember ordering next to him.

The pressure from a hand on his back made the man turn faster than you expected, not even his fuzzy senses could manage to slow down his reaction when he felt your lips pressed against his cheek. And then he heard it, your voice ringing in his ears and bringing him an unexpected sense of peace, one that he hadn’t realize would be possible since it left packed inside his ex-wife’s suitcase, fuck! Why was he thinking of her? That was the solely reason he had even gone out tonight.

To forget

“Sorry… do I know you?” his Chicago accent was stronger when he drank and in the mornings, but it’s not like the person in front of him would know that.

The hand left its place on his back as if the mere contact burned harder than fire and he couldn’t explain why he wanted to ask for it back, was he that desperate? That touch starved that he would feel the need to ask a stranger not to back away? To just keep you close to him and your touch on his aching body.

“Steven?” when the name fell from your lips it all made sense and he couldn’t help but feel worse for longing the touch from someone that wasn’t his to long for. He couldn’t be selfish and keep love away from his alters just because it was kept from him.

Fuck, his eyes focused on your lips feeling himself slipping away, his gut stirring at the urge to beg Steven to give him just five more minutes with you and maybe get to know each other.

This definitely would be a night impossible to forget.

The little bell from the oven rang and you turned with excitement, Marc got up and helped you so your eagerness for a sweet treat wouldn’t hurt you in the process, it was still a while for you to actually eat them and you knew that but fuck were you excited for it.

“I wanted to ask you” he was slicing the still hit rolls for you to finally have that sweet you were craving, after all your impatiens was notable when it came to stuff like this “about your má”

“Yeah?” your eyes jumped from the plate in front of you to him, going to the fridge and taking something to drink for both

“Did something happen?” he sat on the opposite side of the table, hand playing with his wristwatch.

“No, why are you asking?” you moved your plate to sit next to him, your hand reaching for his and your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed she hasn’t called” he reached for the box of meds that made its home on the table, handing you some water along with them.

“Oh yeah, she’s just busy” you smiled and plopped them in your mouth “Starting a business is hard”

“What?” he tried hard not to sound as confused as he was but failed miserable “I thought- when did that happen?”

“Well… she’s always talked about it and, after a while of pushing I finally managed to convince her to open her own restaurant” you sighed and shrugged “told her I could go down there to help out for a while but she told me not to worry. I know she is busy and all but sometimes I just… it wouldn’t even make sense for me to visit her right now if I’m not going to help, you know? Don’t want to be a-“

You fell in silence, not knowing how to put what you were feeling into word.

“Burden?” he heard you hum and shook his head “You’re not. I really thought you fought or something” he was relieved to be in the wrong.

“Why would we?” he shrugged “well we didn’t so stop worrying about it”

“Is that why you haven’t gone?” he saw the way you rolled your shoulders, the pain no longer there.

“A part of it, yeah. But maybe we could go together next time? I would love for you to meet her”

You’ve talked with her about your boyfriends, it took her a while to understand what it all meant but once she couldn’t help but be glad her ‘little baby’ was loved by someone so strong and capable, sometimes she would say hi to them when you were on facetime.

“I would like that too”

You kissed his shoulder and then his neck, trailing up to kiss his lips, his hand cupping your face

And in that moment there weren’t big descriptions to be made.

Only silence and kisses with taste of cinnamon rolls.