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icallhimjoey · 8 months

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Lost & Found

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!

Author’s note: i know i already said we were going at a slower pace, but, i really meant it - ive got too much other things going and i apologise! part four might take EVEN LONGER ive got a busy month coming up, so we'll see how it goes! thanks for being patient with me <333

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Your breath hitched as your fingers twitched with need of a self-destruct button when you saw him.

Swimming shorts, black. The ones you’d had in your hands two days before. Linen shirt, short sleeves, beige – unbuttoned. It was one of the things you’d tried on. Your friend had said it looked like a pyjama top on you. You were glad to learn it did not look like a pyjama top on him.

Sunglasses. Black, dark, and designer if you were to go by the large metallic logos on the sides.

Hair sort of all over the place, like he hadn’t touched it after rolling out of bed this morning. Book in hand, paperback, folded corners and broken spine.

If you were honest, it was kind of a vibe. Until you panned down, and...

Loafers.

You hoped that the glare of the sun didn’t turn your sunglasses transparent enough for Joe to notice you weren’t looking at your phone screen when you saw him step out and enter the pool area.

He walked past a couple of sun loungers that had towels on but seemed otherwise fairly abandoned. The pool was empty, the water too cold to casually dip into, so the towels probably belonged to people who dumped them there before breakfast, just to ensure they’d have a space of their own in the sun later.

Well, it was later now, and had there been no empty sun loungers free of towels, you’d have tossed a random one to claim as your own. Like the one right next to you. Just a big white towel from the hotel on an empty sun lounger that seemingly belonged to no one.

You saw Joe get closer and closer until you realised that he seemed to be coming right over to you.

Maybe he’d seen you and was now just there to come and tell you that he needed his jacket back. The one he gave you last night. The one you were meant to return to room 907. The one you still had up in room 1103.

Listen, it had gotten late. And you’d gotten too tipsy.

You also weren’t sure if you’d remembered 907 correctly, and, what if he was asleep already, you know? You decided after having your 6th drink poured into a plastic cup that you’d bring Joe his jacket tomorrow.

Maybe just after breakfast.

But then, you’d slept right through breakfast, hadn’t you?

You’d woken up two hours after falling asleep, and hadn’t been able to slide back into slumber until after you’d watched the sunrise from your balcony through blinking bleary eyes.

You’d only gotten a very quick gulp of water into your system after brushing your teeth, and now here you were, by the pool, living your best holiday-instagram-filtered-story life.

When Joe walked into earshot, you were ready to launch an excuse at him for not having returned his jacket yet.

But then he bent and sat down on the sun lounger next to you and you realized; that was his towel. One he'd probably laid down just before breakfast to ensure himself a lounger for when he'd want to enjoy some time by the pool side later.

Later was now, apparently.

Joe sat and took off his loafers as he looked over at the pool where the sun made the surface glitter, and then you saw him turn his head to look at you, giving you a polite smile.

“I was going to bring it over last night,” you blurted out as you sat up a little, “I promise, room 907, I didn’t forget. It was just, it got a bit late, and I didn’t want to maybe wake you– I’ll give it back today,” God, the nervosity practically dripped from the words you squeaked out.

Joe just smiled, which only made it worse.

“I... I’ll go get it right now, sorry,” you swung your legs to the side but stopped when you heard Joe laugh.

“That’s okay, no worries,” he quickly said, stopping your feet from finding your flip flops.

“I wasn’t going to keep it,” you reassured.

“I didn’t think you were.”

Okay, good.

“None of my other things have gone missing, so you’re fine,” Joe scrunched his nose and made a face before he got comfy with his book in his lap.

You thought back to that first night with his suitcase. He was sort of right. You could’ve easily kept something - probably would have if you’d listened to your friend who kept telling you, “That looks great on you, fucking keep it,” over and over.

“About that...” you heard yourself say it before you could stop yourself.

“Can I, just, do you want my unsolicited opinion on something?”

Joe found the page in his book he’d left off on and used fingers to bend the spine a bit further. He didn’t really reply, which you took as an invitation to just drop what had been on your mind without holding back.

“Just, I don’t understand, you seem–” you thought your choice of words over just for a second. “You sort of seem like you know what you’re doing. Man on a business trip, expensive clothing, all tailored I’m guessing, and then there’s– I’m sorry, but why would you use two-in-one shampoo?”

Joe blinked at you a second.

“And not only use it, but bring it?!”

It took Joe a second to figure out how to react to your animated question. You seemed genuinely grossed out and properly confused.

Man on a business trip.

That tickled him.

“You um... you went through my toiletries?” Joe asked, eyes back in his book, hoping that maybe the question would get you to blush again like you’d blushed when you’d met at the airport the day before.

“I went through everything, and you fucking know it,” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself now. “Please tell me that bottle has been in your that bag since the nineties and you don’t actually use it still,”

Joe snorted, head bobbing a little.

“I mean,” he started, “It’s how long I’ve had the bag, so that’s not as implausible as you’d think,”

“Yea, it looks it, Joe” you jabbed, grinning, and that’s when Joe realised.

The fucking toiletries bag.

The one he’d had since he was eight.

The one his mother had written his name on with black sharpie so he wouldn’t lose it.

JOE

He could picture it clear as day.

You knew his name because you’d read it on his toiletries bag.

You didn’t know who he was.

His mother’s handwriting had revealed his name to you, and you didn’t fully understand the wistful little smile that overtook his face for a moment as he frowned at his book a little.

This new knowledge shifted something for him. He could dissect the relief of it all later, if he wanted to. Now, it just made him want to entertain this interaction further.

So he did.

Asked you if he was correct at having missed you at breakfast. Told you he wasn't actually on a business trip, but just there for a short break from the hustle and bustle of the city, of work.

You told him you were there for the same reason, and you swapped similar stories of busy jobs and hectic schedules, of tensed shoulders and worried supervisors who pressured you into trips to the sun, and now, here you were. By the poolside of a nice hotel where they served nice drinks and, would you like a drink? What did you have last night?

“Stop, if anyone needs to get anyone a drink here, it’s me. As a thank you for the jacket and not having me, you know, arrested.”

You got up, were about to wave your card in Joe’s face but found yourself plonking back down onto the lounger.

Weird.

You didn’t feel dizzy at all, but somehow your balance felt off. You went to test it by giving your head a little shake, and then suddenly, the world moved sideways. Gravity pulled at you from the side, making you lean there a little, and then, a lot.

There was lounger where you landed, shoulder first, but there wasn’t enough lounger. After bouncing once, you felt yourself slide.

It somehow felt fine, didn’t make you panic at all, your brain already making sense of it but in all the wrong ways. You didn’t feel so heavy, head all light, and so the thud to the floor wasn’t so bad. It was almost like you floated down there, but then, with your cheek pressed against the warm concrete, everything unexpectedly moved upwards with a rough jerk. Smacked you right in the face and the rest of your body sort of slumped down, hurting your cheekbone and what you thought was your brow bone as your full weight seemed shoved into them.

It hurt.

Not in the same way the cold water of the pool hurt the bones of your feet when you'd sat on the edge of it earlier – this felt worse. Cutting.

Your face was pushed into the ground by your own weight until out of the blue, the concrete moved away from you, and you floated back up. Back the right side up.

There were hands and they pulled, and it hurt your arm, your elbow, your shoulder.

“Did you faint? What the– did you faint? No, you– hang on,”

Hands clambered at you until you were back on soft familiar surface, but everything felt a little sticky. And somehow you were fucking freezing.

“Joe?”

You felt your vocal cords say it, you knew you just said something, but you didn’t hear them. Was your voice not working? Or was it your hearing that had gone?

“You fainted,”

“It’s fine, I don’t– what’s happening, what is…”

“Fucking hell, lay down a second. Legs up too, just, I want you flat– be flat,”

You didn’t move quick enough for Joe’s liking, which Joe realized, of course you fucking didn’t. You just smashed yourself face first into the concrete and your eyebrow was bleeding now. In an attempt to gracefully get your legs up onto the lounger too, Joe nearly flung you off of the whole thing on the other side. Managed to grab you by the side just before you swung too far.

“Hands, hands,” Joe just grabbed them. “Give me your hands.” He was already holding them. “Here, hold the sides for me. I need to move you into the shade.”

And then the whole world moved. A tree came into view as the lounger you were on got dragged across grass. It disoriented you into a dizzy spin that made you forget which way was up for a second, even though you were staring right at up.

In no time, two guys who wore polo shirts with hotel-logo-nametags hovered over you and a lady from three sun loungers over stepped in to tell them to get a first aid kit. Something to clean that gash with. To make the bleeding stop.

Joe stepped back and let her mother you for a second, told one of the guys who worked at the hotel that you’d gotten up from the sun lounger and then just… fell.

The lady asked if you’d eaten, and you tried to convince her you were fine and that all of the fuss was a bit much, but then you had to confess that you hadn’t actually eaten and you’d also not slept very well the night before, and the night before that, and, you actually hadn't slept normal in ages, and your shoulders hurt, lower back too, and you’d drank a lot the night before, and, Jesus Christ, you were so fucking cold.

“Someone get her something to drink, she needs sugar,”

“And a sandwich maybe? Something to eat?” Joe added, making the other man scurry off.

There was a moment where the lady and Joe looked at each other and then both looked back at you and you felt so stupidly embarrassed.

“Can I– I want to go back to my room,”

So you could fester in your own embarrassment by yourself in peace and quiet. Without people staring down at you, and no doubt from all around the pool too with all the commotion that was made.

“They’re getting you a drink and some food, and you need your eyebrow looked at,” the lady smiled politely at you, using a finger to wipe some of your hair away from getting stuck in the blood there.

You moved a hand up to touch it, to feel how bad it was, but saw Joe reach an arm out that he quickly snapped away when you halted. You moved it to your mouth instead, to bite at the thumb nail to stop your teeth from chattering.

You were outside and people were barely wearing any clothes and seemed fine – why were you still freezing?

“Are you cold?” the woman asked, already looking around for a towel to drape over you.

“I’m fine,” you lied, and heard Joe huff a laugh. Obviously, you weren’t.

“Here,” he said, and you saw how he handed over the white hotel towel from his sun lounger. It got carefully placed over your shoulders, and it helped a little, but you just wanted to go upstairs and crawl back into bed. Get under the warm covers and sleep this off.

The first aid kit arrived, and this random hotel guest in a bathing suit took it from the guy who’d brought it over. She took over completely, cleaned your face with disinfectant and asked for Joe to help her cut a piece of tape to bandage it up. You saw his fingers fumble, shaking a little bit, like he seemed nervous.

A plated club sandwich and a can of coke arrived. After plenty of “How are you feeling?” and you repeating that you were fine over and over and over in between sips and bites, you were finally asked which room you were staying in, and if you were there with someone.

You hesitated to answer, afraid that if you said you were alone, they wouldn’t just let you go back to your room. They should, of course they should just let you do whatever, but there were three strangers doting over you all worriedly, and then also a fourth one who, even though you'd gone through everything he brought on this trip, was still technically a stranger too.

“It’s okay,” Joe then said. “I’ll take her up to her room.”

And before you could complain about it, he’d slung his towel around his neck, had taken the glass and the plate, then bent sideways and stuck an elbow out for you to loop an arm through.

It was a little weird to walk into the hotel with Joe. To get into the lifts with Joe. To step into your room with Joe.

It was a little weirder to say you were going to shower and that you were fine, thank you.

It was a little weirder when Joe didn’t just accept that and looked at you with worried eyes before he asked if you could shower with the door open, and if he could sit just outside in case the hot water did silly things to your blood pressure. What if you dropped in the shower and no one would be there to stop you from drowning?

“Drown? It’s a shower.”

“Place could flood.” Joe shrugged.

It was weird when you looked at each other a second and you realised he wasn’t going to leave. Wasn’t going to let you shower with the door shut and locked, and so, fine.

Joe awkwardly stood in the middle of your hotel room, plate and drink still in hand, when you moved the desk chair closer to the bathroom door.

“I’m sorry, I just, that lady from downstairs will murder me if I don’t make sure you’re okay,”

You laughed at his excuse and gestured for him to put all he was holding down on the desk.

“I’ll be quick.” You said, finding a change of clothes to take into the bathroom with you.

“Please, take your time. Don’t rush.”

You didn’t rush, but were quick anyway. You now had a man waiting for you to finish a shower and you knew you’d gone through all of his things, but leaving him alone in your hotel room surrounded by all of your things felt invasive.

The warm water was nice and managed to relax your shoulders a little.

Not a lot.

But, you know, all little bits helped.

“I’m okay,” you called when you shut off the water, hoping maybe Joe would reply, ok great, and maybe leave. He didn’t. Just said, “Good.” and then stayed put.

When you emerged with wet hair, in soft shorts and a white tank top, Joe smiled at you. His eyes immediately went to the wet bandage that covered your eyebrow still, the tape strong enough to have kept it in place. Good. That was good.

His smile quickly disappeared however, when he saw you rub a hand at your neck, your face displaying a painful grimace.

“Your jacket,” you pointed and Joe looked. Saw his jacket. Had seen it already.

He didn’t move to grab it, instead turning back to you. His eyes flicked between your face that displayed painful discomfort and the hand that was squeezing at the flesh of your shoulder now.

“All right, I’ll leave you alone in a second, but before you tell me you’re fine again, can I… can I just…” Joe held both his hands up. You just looked at them and didn’t move. Joe, in turn, placed both hands on top of your shoulders and frowned at what he felt.

“Jesus, all right,” Joe turned, looked around the room, eyes darting and brain going at top speeds to put a plan together.

“Do you mind if I…?”

Perhaps Joe could start actually finishing his sentences, you thought, although you thought you knew what he meant and shrugged both your shoulders up to your ears.

“No,” Joe’s eyes grew wide before he tutted at you. “Don’t, that doesn’t help. Come, sit,”

Joe sat down on the edge of the bed before you did.

“Face that way,” Joe pointed towards the windows, away from him. You followed instructions without question and felt how he collected your hair into one hand before carefully placing it over a shoulder so it’d be out of the way.

“You know this isn’t what this is meant to feel like, right?” You could hear the humour carried in his voice. Of course you knew that. You knew you also weren’t meant to bite at your nails until your fingers bled. Weren’t meant to wake up sweating and panting because you’d hallucinated being trapped in a small dark place again.

You felt the mattress level out behind you as Joe got up and stepped forward. He bent to the side a little, getting his shoulder in front of your face.

“Here,” he touched himself where he’d touched you just before. “Feel this bit, how you can easily squeeze the soft tissue here?”

You reached up, hesitated for a moment, but then touched Joe over his linen shirt that had a few buttons done up now, and squeezed where he told you to squeeze. Like it was normal.

That was… that was all muscle.

Not as thick and hard as whatever was happening to your shoulders, but these were Joe’s warm muscles you were pressing your fingers into.

“Now feel yours,” Joe moved back, touched his fingers to where he wanted you to feel, and made you squeeze yourself in the same spot and, yea, okay, that was a big difference.

“I am also here to relax, but clearly one of us needs it more than the other,” Joe huffed a laugh through his nostrils as he sat down on the bed again behind you and he got back to what he was doing before.

“I've not gotten a good night's sleep in months,” you revealed as Joe dug thumbs into where it hurt.

Hurt good.

Hurt so good.

“You should book a massage,” Joe spoke softly, but kept massaging your shoulders, the bottom of your neck.

“Hmmh,” you replied, afraid that if you’d say anything else, he’d stop what he was doing.

Joe kneaded and pushed and squeezed and touched for a while, and you noticed you were starting to have to work really hard at not flopping over. At sitting up right and keeping your eyes open. You repressed yawns and tried to remember to breath properly, but you’d just had a nice shower and you’d barely gotten any sleep before and now you were on your bed in a comfortable outfit and Joe was massaging you with his big hands and maybe you could rest your eyes, for just a second, you know?

“Here, lay down,” Joe suddenly whispered and without acknowledging how weird it was that Joe just sat outside your bathroom whilst you showered and was now massaging you to sleep in your hotel room, you just laid down. Instantly got comfortable on your stomach leaving enough space for Joe to sit on the side, one knee folded onto the bed and the other dangling down the side still.

“There’s a– do you feel this?” Joe pushed knuckles exactly where you wanted them. “Huge knot.”

“Feels nice,” you whispered, breathy and exhausted.

“I can loosen it up a bit more, but this– you really should get a professional massage,”

Joe kept working strong fingers and even stronger knuckles into the same spots until you couldn’t even feel it anymore. Just felt numb. Or maybe you were just falling asleep and not stopping yourself from slipping under.

Joe’s hands never ventured much lower – maybe just a little, but nothing inappropriate. You were only strangers after all. He thought that you knew who he was but then you didn’t and now the playing field was level and, sure, you knew more about him because you’d gone through his whole suitcase, but he was in your hotel room now and you were falling asleep under his touch.

Fell asleep under his touch.

You woke up in an empty hotel room hours later, covered by the folded-over other half of the duvet you were lying on top of.

You felt… well rested. Only a little disoriented. A little thirsty. Nothing crazy.

The last thing you remembered feeling was Joe’s fingers trailing from your shoulders down your arms and back up again and you felt a little sad that he wasn’t there anymore.

It was still light out, but the sun was setting and it felt like the whole day had passed you by today. You stretched, body feeling looser. Better. Joe was right though, you needed to book a massage. Maybe two. Or three.

When you looked over and saw Joe’s jacket still there, slung over the back of the chair that was now back in its spot behind the desk, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you. He could’ve taken that – should have taken that, and yet…

Yea, the day had been weird.

Had been weird from the start.

The weird night's sleep, Joe's toiletries bag, the wound above your eye, the empty coke can on the desk, the massage that had put you to sleep for several uninterrupted hours, and, Joe's jacket.

Weird.

And then room service was weird.

And watching the sunset from your balcony was weird.

Then trying to get back into bed for actual nighttime sleep was weird.

All of it, just... weird.

Room 907.

You'd said you would return the jacket today.

And then he'd been in your room and he'd stayed with you until you'd fallen asleep and then he hadn't taken it.

Joe's jacket was still in your hotel room.

Weird.

You tried ignoring it. Tried to watch TV. Scrolled on your phone. Thought of taking a long bath, maybe.

But that stupid jacket. It kept calling your attention from across the room.

Even after turning off all the lights and tossing and turning for about an hour, you could still feel it there. Taunting. Whispering dares.

Bring me to his hotel room.

Take me there.

Come on.

And...

Fuck.

All right.

You sat up in bed, flicked on a light and squinted both eyes at the sudden brightness.

There it was, still in the same spot. Joe's jacket.

“Fine. You win.” you told no one and slung your legs out of bed, grumbling with annoyance as you took the jacket from the chair and found your hotel room key on the side.

Room 907.

The hotel was quiet as you took the lift down two floors and found Joe's room quick enough.

You stalled a second, unsure if you should knock, but then thought, fuck it. You were there now, jacket in hand, and you'd said you'd bring it back today. You knocked softly, then waited and listened. Nothing. Just to be safe, you knocked again, and then heard the soft click of a light switch. You ignored how that made your heart thunder in your throat.

It didn't take long for the door to open. When you saw Joe's tired face, you immediately knew you'd made a mistake.

You should've waited 'til the next morning. This wasn't a cool move.

“Your jacket,” you felt so dumb. Looked so dumb.

But then you caught sight of the smallest of smiles as Joe took it from you, holding the door wide open as he did.

A beat of silence followed where you hoped Joe'd say thanks, so you could tell him thank you for letting you borrow it in return.

The thanks never came.

Instead Joe stepped aside, door still wide open, and gave a tiny backwards nod that welcomed you inside, followed by a quiet whisper.

“Come on.”

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #icallhimjoey #lost & found #lost and found #part three

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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

Text

i’m begging for you (take my hand)

this fic has 18+ content! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. this is for your safety and mine! please respect that.

by continuing to read you are stating that you are over eighteen and understand this content is not meant for minors.

summary // bucky doesn’t do love, you love bucky. being friends with benefits makes sense, right? [bucky barnes x female!reader]

words // 19.0k (BUCKLE UP IT’S A LONG ONE)

warnings // modern!bucky, fwb! trope, brief love triangle (steve x reader x bucky), overall toxicity, cursing, daddy issues (bucky’s dad left), drinking, excessive use of nicknames (sweetheart/sweets/baby), oral sex (f! receiving), penetrative sex, unsafe sex (do not have unprotected sex!), spitting, thigh riding, bucky has a metal arm but it’s not explained why (it was a car accident & that is already known by reader)

notes // title from willow by taylor swift (this fic was originally titled heartbeat and inspired by childish gambino’s song of the same name) i just could not get modern bucky not knowing how to deal with feelings out of my head & it became this catastrophe [ive never written 18+ before so pls be gentle in your judgement of those scenes omg] happy reading!

if you enjoy this, reblogs & replies are greatly appreciated (especially when pieces take this much work)

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

“To Bucky Barnes, my now forever lawyer.” You hold out your wine glass and he meets you halfway in a cheers. Bucky laughs brightly as you praise him. “And now my sugar daddy, since he makes an insane amount of money as senior associate.”

The two of you are halfway through your second bottle of wine. “I’ve been a lawyer for four years. I’m just now becoming your go-to?” He holds a hand to his chest in faux hurt.

You lean towards him as you laugh. “I needed to make sure you were a good lawyer. Get me off murder charges good.” It feels like the two of you have been scooting closer to each other all night.

“Sweetheart, you know I’d be there to help you hide the body if you needed me to.” He leans towards you in a conspiratorial whisper. Your eyes move from his eyes to his lips before snapping back up. “Then get you off the charges.” He breathes out.

You can feel his breath on your face. The scent of red wine hits your noise and you can see it staining his lips. You want to kiss him so desperately, but you just can’t make the first move. You don’t think you could handle that rejection.

“I’m gonna kiss you.” He says quietly, his eyes scanning over your face for any sign of rejection. You swallow thickly before nodding. “Okay.” You whisper back before letting out a nervous giggle.

Bucky’s hand comes up to rest against your cheek. Its coldness relieves some of the heat that’s risen to underneath your skin from his proximity and the wine you’ve consumed.

Your eyes slide shut as he leans in. His nose nudging against yours before you feel his lips. You bring your hand up to rest on his chest. His lips are softer than you expected and taste like the wine they’re stained with. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of when dreaming of kissing Bucky.

He pulls away and looks at you with half lidded eyes. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbles. You feel heat crawl up the back of your neck at the honesty in his tone. He presses a kiss against your jaw. Then your neck. Your head falls to the side to allow him better access.

It’s easy to move into his lap when his hands grip at your hips. “Fuck.” Bucky moans as you grind down against him. You throw your head back in a moan as his lips trail down from your jaw to your neck.

“Shit.” You say breathlessly as his hands run up and down your sides. Your hands drop down and begin to work on his jeans button and zipper. Bucky lets out a groan when they brush against his already hard dick.

You stand from his lap and he pulls his jeans off while you move to unbutton your top. As you work on the shirt, Bucky’s hands reach out to undo your own jeans. When you’re standing in nothing but underwear in front of him, Bucky isn’t doing anything but staring. The heat in his eyes makes you feel flush and goes straight to your core. “Fuck. You’re gorgeous.” He says quietly.

You crawl back into his lip and Bucky’s hands find you again immediately. You rub against him and both of you moan at the slight relief it offers. Bucky’s hand drifts down between you two and he begins to rub over your clothed clit.

You grind down on his hand and let out a whine. “More. More. Please.” You whisper. Bucky laughs softly at you before slipping his hand into your underwear and running a finger over your slit. “Oh my god.” Your head falls to rest on his shoulder.

“That’s it. You look so good like this, sweetheart.” He murmurs into your hair. The praise makes you moan as you grind down against him again desperate for more.

You pull back to look at him, one of your hands tangled in the hair at the back of his head. In a breathless tone you say, “Fuck me.”

Bucky groans. “Oh shit.” His hips buck up against you. “Yeah. Okay.” He pushes you off of his lap gently and moves to pull his briefs off. You follow suit and pull your underwear off.

“Come here.” He groans as he pulls you back over his lap. You giggle as he presses a flurry of kisses across your chest. He holds a hand out in front of you, “Spit.” He orders.

You glance at him in shock before following the order. His eyes roll back as he watches you before he moves to use the spit to lube himself up. “Fuck me. Please.” You whisper to him as he teases your entrance.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Bucky slips into you and you both let out loud moans. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel so good.” His forehead rests against your chest as both of you relish in the feeling for a moment. After a few seconds of shaky breathing, you yank at his hair gently so he’s forced to look at you again. A smirk spreads across his face at the feeling and you smile down at him, “Gonna fuck me? Or are we just sit here?” You tease.

Bucky’s hands grip your hips tightly and he steadies his feet on the ground. “Yeah, sweets. ‘M gonna fuck you.”

》•

Your eyes focus in on Wanda as she waves a hand in front of your face. You can feel your body grow hot at the memory of Bucky and you. “What’s on your mind? You’ve been zoning out all night.” She laughs softly.

“Bucky and I had sex last night.” You blurt out, unable to keep it to yourself any longer. You swallow tightly when Wanda’s eyes brighten in excitement before confusion takes over.

She watches your face, like she can tell something was wrong, and doesn’t move to do anything for a second. When she does speak, it’s hesitant. “You’ve liked him since we were in school. Is this good or bad?”

You frown. She was right, you had liked Bucky since he had come barreling into your life senior year of college with bright eyes, mischievous smiles and maybe too many issues to ever be in a real relationship. You had sat through his flings and tried to move on with you own, but every guy had ended up being jealous of Bucky or too boring compared to him.

“He doesn’t-” You suck in a deep breath. “He doesn’t want a relationship.” You say quietly. You take another sip of your wine when Wanda reaches over with pity filled eyes and grabs a hold of your hand.

She shakes her head like she doesn’t understand what you’ve just said to her. “What do... What do you mean?”

You run your hands over your face in despair. “I don’t... We had like two bottles of wine and we hooked up.” You look up at her with tearful eyes. “When I woke up this morning, he went on about how he loved me and he didn’t want to hurt me.”

Wanda’s watching you with wide eyes. “Start from the beginning. What did he say? Are you sure he said he doesn’t want to be in a relationship?” She’s shaking her head in disbelief.

You take a deep breath before launching into the story.

His bed is empty when you wake up. Your stomach sinks as you stare at his bedroom door left ajar. You can hear him in the kitchen talking, but you can’t quite make out what he’s saying.

You take a deep breath before getting up. You had hoped he would sleep in with you. That cuddling in the morning would lead to confessions of hidden feelings. Your hopes diminished as you creeped down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“No.” Bucky sounds anxious as he talks into the phone. “I’m telling you. I fucked up.” You step in the kitchen and he glances over his shoulder with wide eyes. “I’ve got to go. Bye.” He hangs up abruptly and turns to you with a tense smile.

You give him a small smile in return. “Morning.” You tug at the hem of his t-shirt nervously as he stares at you. “We should-”

“I wanted to-” The two of you laugh awkwardly as you speak over one another. You hold your hand towards him. “You go first.” You move to sit at one of counter’s barstools.

Bucky’s watching you with wary eyes and if his words to whoever was on that phone weren’t warning enough, this new demeanor around you certainly is. “You’re my best friend.” He comes to stand directly across from you. “And I care about you a lot. You’re one of the most important women in my life. I don’t want to ruin our relationship.”

You nod slowly as he attempts to reject you kindly. If it weren’t so painful, you might laugh at how awkward he looks. “It’s not...” You trail off unsure of what to say. “Bucky, it’s not that serious. We’re fine.” You reach your hand across the counter palm up for him to take.

His brows furrow. “You’re not mad at me?” He asks in confusion. “I thought-”

You shake your fingers and he smiles before holding your hand tightly in his. “It was consensual. With a guy I trust with my life. And it was great sex. I’m not mad at you.” You smile reassuringly.

It’s not a lie. Not at all. Everything you said was true, you had just left out the part where you had been hoping for more. But you could get over this. A one time fling. You could survive it as long as you didn’t lose him.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” Bucky’s shoulders relax. The tension on his face transforms into a cocky smirk. “Great sex?”

“That’s...” Wanda trails off as she digests your words. “Why didn’t you tell him how you feel?” She asks.

You look at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean why didn’t I tell him? Should we start with me overhearing him telling someone how much he fucked up or his rejection for dummies speech?” You laugh sarcastically.

Wanda gives you apologetic eyes. “How can you be sure he was talking to the person on the phone about you?” You scrunch your nose up at her and she sighs. “Okay, whatever. At least now you know he doesn’t want a relationship! You can move on and find someone with a bigger dick.”

“Wanda!” You can’t help but laugh. You give her an appreciative smile before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know... I guess I just always thought we’d end up together. It’s stupid.”

You trace your finger around the base of your wine glass. Wanda watches you for a moment before flagging down a waitress. She looks at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Can I get a round of tequila shots, please?” She asks.

The waitress nods before walking away. “We’re going to get you drunk and make you forget all about Bucky Barnes.”

You laugh softly. “Yes please.”

》

Four glasses of wine and two rounds of shots leaves you struggling to get the key into your apartment door’s lock.

“Fuck.” You mutter when you push too hard and the keys clatter against the floor. You sigh deeply before bending down to pick them. You lay one palm flat against your door in an attempt to steady your shaky feet as the other reaches for your keys.

Then you’re falling forward and your shoulder hits the floor harshly. “Jesus, sweetheart. I thought you were some weirdo trying to break in.” You groan as you look up and see Bucky staring down at you with furrowed brows.

He’s wearing nothing but sweatpants, his metal arm and abs on full display for you. You give him a dopey smile. “Hey, handsome.”

He laughs loudly. It’s bright and contagious and makes you giggle as he bends down to lift you to your feet. “Missed you tonight.” He says softly as he wraps his arm around your waist.

You allow yourself to rest your bodyweight on him, knowing he’s strong enough to lead you to your room. His soft words leave you feeling like you’re floating. It’s like the night before had never happened.

“Missed you too.” You whisper. Your words are slurred, not that you can change that, but you know he understands them. He presses a kiss to your head in response as he leads you down the hall and into a room.

The room is spinning around you, but you know it’s Bucky’s from the blank walls and dark furniture. Bucky sits you down on the edge of his bed and your fingers immediately grip his comforter tightly. “Why’d you bring me here?” Your grip is the only thing that keeps you from falling backwards onto his bed.

You try to focus your eyes on him, but he’s moving around the room too fast. From what you think is his dresser then his closet. “I’ve got to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit tonight.”

“‘M not gonna get sick.” You mumble as he comes to a stop in front of you. He holds out a pile of clothes to you. “I have my own clothes in my own room.” You stare up at him defiantly.

You can see Bucky push his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a tell that he was getting a little annoyed. “C’mon sweets. Just put the clothes on and get in bed.”

He’s still holding the clothes out in front of you. His earlier rejection running through your mind. “I’m not having sex with you tonight.” You blurt out. You would have never said the words sober, but you didn’t want him to think it would become a recurring thing.

Bucky laughs awkwardly and drops the clothes on the bed beside you. “I’m not trying to have sex with you. I’m trying to take care of you and make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

Your eyes narrow, but you feel far too dizzy to actually get up and move to your room to prove a point. You lift your arms and look up at Bucky, “Help?”

He smiles victoriously and reaches for the hem of your shirt. You can see his eyes trail over your bralette and feel your cheeks warm, but you blame that on the alcohol.

“Do you want to sleep in this?” He whispers as his fingers trail over one of the straps. You shiver as one of his cold fingers presses into your skin and leaves goosebumps in its wake.

You bite down on your lip, but nod your head. “I’ll be fine in it.”

He nods and you raise your arms again as he slips one of his black t-shirts onto you. It’s soft and smells like him leaving you warm all over and suddenly tired. Your head falls so your chin is resting against your chest.

Bucky kneels down in front of you. “Is it okay if I take your jeans off? So I can put sweatpants on you?” He moves his head so you’re forced to make eye contact with him as his hands come to rest on your stomach. He fiddles with your jean’s button, but doesn’t move to actually undo it yet.

You nod softly before falling backwards onto the bed. Bucky’s hands move quickly as he unbuttons and unzips your jeans. There’s a sharp inhale once he gets your jeans off, but you ignore it.

“Sweetheart.” You lift your hips when you feel his sweatpants get stuck underneath you. “Thank you.” He says quietly.

“What did you do tonight?” You mumble as you move around his bed to crawl under the comforter. You wait until he’s situated beside you before pulling the blanket up to cover the bottom half of your face.

He pulls the blanket down and holds out a wipe. “You complain when I let you fall asleep with the makeup.”

Your eyes flicker to his in brief shock, unaware of how much he actually listened to you. “Than...Thank you.” You begin to wipe it across your face. It’s not your normal routine, but it was better than nothing. “Tell me about your night.”

Bucky moves so he’s sitting against his headboard. “I just waited for you all night.” He shrugs.

You drop the wipe onto the side table. “Shut up. What did you really do?” You shove gently at his shoulder. Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you into him.

He’s stronger when you’re sober, so your drunk body falls into his side easily and you wrap an arm around his waist. “I’m telling you the truth, sweets. I just waited all night for you.” He presses a kiss to your temple.

You look up from his chest to find him looking down at you with soft eyes. He’s being kind and you’re sure all that he can think of is how happy he is that your friendship hasn’t been ruined.

But all you can think about is how no matter how soft he is with you, he still doesn’t want to be with you. No matter how much he says he loves you and misses you, it’s not the sam way you mean it. It leaves a crack in your heart that you’re unsure will ever be healed.

》•

She’s pretty. You think bitterly as you watch from across the room.

Bucky’s firm had a party every few months for donors. Bucky hated them. He always complained that schmoozing wasn’t his specialty, law was, so you were usually dragged along as his plus one to “Keep me from dying of boredom, please.”

You usually didn’t mind. Bucky flirted for money, you got to enjoy to open bar to cope with his non-existent feelings for you. Tonight felt even worse.

You force yourself to look away and look back down at the drink in front of you. You’re glad Wanda isn’t there to look at you with the same pity filled eyes that you had been getting since revealing the details of your hook up, but you wish you had someone to turn to.

“You look great in that dress.” Your head whips up at the familiar voice. Steve is smiling at you sweetly and you can tell he’s keeping his eyes respectfully on yours. “Definitely your color.”

You laugh. You and Steve weren’t particularly close, he was a childhood friend and you were college. The two of you really only spent time together in groups or with Bucky there. “Thank you, Mr. Rogers.” You tease.

“Please.” He throws his head back in an over dramatic groan. “Steve! So many people have called me Mr. Rogers tonight I’m going to fall into an identity crisis.”

You give him an ill-suppressed smile. “Thank you, Steve.” He sits down in the barstool next to you and waves the bartender over.

“Water for me and…” He glances at the empty glass in front of you, “another glass of wine for her?” His voice ends in a question and he smiles brightly when you nod.

“I could be wrong, but aren’t you supposed to be flirting with rich women to fund your pro bono cases?” You run a finger around the base of your glass.

Steve’s eyes trail from your manicured nails up to your teasing smile. He swallows and forces out a soft laugh. “I’m not too good at the flirting that’s uh-.” He looks over his shoulder before looking back at you with kind eyes.

You ignore his insinuation. Ignore the idea of Bucky and Steve feeling pity for you over Bucky. “Everyone deserves a break.”

The man in front of you gives you a relieved smile. “And what better way to take a break than talk to a pretty girl?”

You smile sweetly. “You could get 100k easily with that charm.” Steve throws his head back in a laugh and his arm lands on the back of your seat when he leans back in.

You find yourself leaning in too. He’s got a nice laugh and sweet personality. You can feel the warmth radiating off of him and it’s relaxing.

For a moment, Bucky is forgotten as Steve gives you all his attention, the first person to do so all night.

》•

Bucky stops to stand next to Sam as he takes a sip of his drink. His eyes scan over the party in search of you.

“Good for Steve.” Sam says into his glass before taking a sip of his drink. Bucky’s eyes cut to him in question. Sam nods in front of him and Bucky’s eyes settle on you at the bar. With Steve.

“What do you mean good for Steve?” Bucky asks. He can’t take his eyes off of you as Steve slides a glass of wine towards you.

Sam shrugs nonchalantly. “He’s had a crush on her since that Halloween party last year.”

Bucky’s mind drifts to you in your skin tight superhero costume. He wasn’t blind, he had seen the guys who had come up to you and their eyes that had trailed after you.

“He hasn’t said anything to me.” He feels a surge of pride at the fact that he can’t explain when he thinks of how at the end of the night, you had come home alone with him, content to sit on the couch and watch horror movies. “He’s not her type.” He adds on after a moment of silence.

Bucky isn’t too confident in his words though. Steve seemed to be the perfect kind of guy for you. Kind, funny, made good money, and was always the guy who listened with open ears. Bucky just couldn’t fathom you with anybody that… He doesn’t know, but he knows Steve doesn’t feel right.

Sam snorts. “Yeah. Try telling you about wanting to take her out? He’d rather live.” Bucky watches as Steve leans in closer to whisper something into your ear.

He feels rage surge through him, but forces himself to stay in his spot. “Not like we’re dating. He could have told me if he wanted to. Or made a move.” He wasn’t sure why he felt so angry about you and Steve. It wasn’t like you two were dating, he hadn’t lied to Sam.

Sam looks at Bucky like he’s grown two heads. “Come on, Buck. Not dating? You call her all these nicknames, never let other people flirt with her, always take her home.”

“We live together.” Bucky defends weakly. His mind drifts to kissing you while wine drunk. He shakes his head. “Of course I take her home.”

Sam looks a little bemused as he asks, “Are you two seriously not dating?”

“Of course not! She’s my best friend.” He glances at Sam before looking back over at Steve. You’re leaning in too. It’s not like he was lying, the two of you weren’t dating. But he had brought you as his date tonight and he’ll be damned if Steve weasels his way into your heart.

“I was just cur-“ Bucky shoves his empty glass into Sam’s hand before beginning to make his way through the crowd towards you.

He can vaguely hear Sam shout a goodbye, but all he can focus on is getting your attention onto him and off of Steve.

》

You feel him before you see him. His hand trailing up your back before landing on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. His grip isn’t tight, but it makes you shiver.

“What’s going on here?” His voice is a possessive drawl and you look up at him with a confused smile.

You sit up straighter and Steve immediately pulls away. His blue eyes follow Bucky’s arm to his face and they narrow. “Just keeping her company. Noticed you were busy, so…” Steve trails off with a shrug.

Bucky’s grip on you tightens. “Well, I’m here now. You can go back to schmoozing.” He nods his head in the direction of the party, but Steve doesn’t budge.

You’re extremely confused by Bucky’s sudden possessiveness over your attention and turn to him with an annoyed glare. “Actually, Steve was telling me about how that’s your specialty. He’s far too sweet to mindlessly flirt. ”

You feel Steve’s shocked gaze on you, because he had definitely not said that, but you don’t look away from Bucky. His glare melts into a sickly sweet smile as he turns to look at his childhood friend. “That so?”

Part of you feels bad for pushing Steve into the middle of whatever this tension was between you and Bucky. But you can’t ignore the pleasure that rushes through you as Bucky’s grip tightens and his attention focuses solely on you for the first time all night.

Steve looks back and forth between you two before he stands from his seat. “It was nice seeing you.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek before slapping a hand against Bucky’s back. “See you later, punk.”

You swallow as Bucky moves to take Steve’s now unoccupied seat. He orders a drink and you can only watch in shock as moves around so casually. When he finally looks back at you he just looks confused by your silence.

“What’s up?” He asks with a smile.

You roll your eyes at him. “What was that?” You gesture in the direction Steve had gone before looking at him with wide eyes.

Bucky looks down at his drink and shrugs. “Didn’t want anyone bothering you.”

“Anyone bothering me? That was Steve!” You laugh incredulously. “I know Steve. You know Steve. He was keeping me company.” You can’t wrap your head around his random behavior.

Bucky shakes his head like you’re the one who’s being confusing and acting weird. “You just looked a little uncomfortable. I came to your rescue.” He gulps down the rest of his drink.

“My rescue?” You shake your head at him. “Buck, it was Steve. Steve Rogers is one of the most polite men in New York.”

Bucky shakes his head. “He likes you. Sam said he was definitely trying to make a move on you.” He immediately feels bad for blurting out Steve’s secret, but he just can’t let it go.

You scrunch your face up in confusion before letting out a breath. “That’s not your secret to tell.” You grab your clutch and stand up quickly. “Why would that even matter anyways?” You look down at him now, he’s still sitting on the barstool. He won’t look up at you.

“Can we just go home?” He asks quietly as he taps his fingers against the bar counter. You bite down on your lip before finally nodding. “Fine.” He lets out a sigh before standing to follow you.

You’re shocked when you feel his fingers slip in between yours as the two of you walk towards the elevators. Holding hands with Bucky wasn’t new, per say, you’d done it at bars to get out of creepy guys flirting with you, amusement parks so as to not lose one another, but this… This felt different, softer and more insecure.

You swallow before squeezing his hand in return. You hear the relieved breath he lets out as the two of you stop in front of the closed elevator doors.

He whispers your name with a tug of your hand. You turn to look at him as the two of you step into the empty elevator. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to screw things up with Steve. I just… I don’t know.”

Your heart breaks a little. You weren’t sure what you expected. Maybe an admission of jealousy, that Bucky realized he didn't want you with Steve or any other guy, he wanted you with him. But the words never came and you feel stupid for letting your hopes get the best of you.

You shrug. “It’s fine, Buck.” The elevator is slow in its descent. You almost groan when you see how high you are and the fifteen floors left to go down. “I don’t like Steve… I just… It was nice to have some company. You were busy all night.”

You try to hide the emotion in your voice, but Bucky can hear it. He can see it too, written on your face as you try to keep your eyes on the descending numbers.

Your words cause a wave of relief to crash over him. You didn’t like Steve. You didn’t like Steve. He felt bad for his friend, but not bad enough to stop his next move.

He tugs at your hand again. The elevator is almost all the way down if you could just ignore him for a few more seconds-

His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to think about why he’s pulling you towards him. You’re still with shock, your hands clasped between you two, as Bucky kisses you.

You don’t kiss back, too stunned to. Bucky pulls back when the elevator finally dings and you try to rush out only to be stopped when you realize you’re still attached to Bucky’s hand.

“What the fuck was that?” You hiss. “You can’t just… Just flip out about Steve flirting, tell me you’re not jealous and then kiss me!” You yell.

Bucky swallows thickly and glances around the empty lobby. “I… It…”

You stare at him with lifted brows waiting for an explanation. “You need to figure your shit out, Buck. I said I was fine if you wanted it to be a one time thing but I’m not here for you to yank around.”

“I’m not trying to yank you around!” Bucky defends. “I just… What if it wasn’t just a one time thing?” He asks quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

You want to cry. “Wh...What?” You ask with a shake of your head.

“I feel like such a dick.” He admits taking a hesitant step closer to you. When you don’t move away, he places a hand on your cheek. “Stuff with work has been so stressful lately and… and I never have the time or energy to do anything. The other night, with you, was the most relaxed I’ve been in a while.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve been thinking of us helping each other out.”

“Like a friends with benefits thing?” You blurt out when you realize where he was going with this.

He nods. “I just… Got to thinking after you left that morning. It was great sex, best I’ve had in a while.” You swallow and your eyes dart away a little embarrassed. “And I know you and don’t have to worry about you giving me some disease. We live together and we wouldn’t have to go out or wait for some random hook up.”

You can’t really wrap your head around his words. “But you don’t want… You don’t want to have a relationship?”

“You know me.” He laughs tensely. “Not a relationship guy. I love you, you’re my best friend, but-“

“That’s good.” Your blurt, already regretting the words. “I mean, I love you, you’re my best friend too, you know? Neither of us really have time for one anyways and… Life is stressful.”

“You… You want to? Do the benefits thing?” Bucky looks like he can’t believe that you’re agreeing. Quite honestly, you can’t really believe the words coming out of your mouth either.

Because you liked Bucky. You had for so long now it felt like it was a piece of you. You were sure you loved him. You were sure he didn’t feel the same way and this… This was a way to be with him, no matter how fucked up it may be.

And life was stressful. A full time job with New York City rent and bills. You hated going out. You hate hook ups, they always left you disgruntled and disappointed. Bucky had… Bucky had been good. The best, probably. And it would be nice to have someone other than yourself every once in a while.

“Yeah.” You whisper. “I… I want to. I’m kind of sick of my hand.”

Bucky snorts then laughs and it immediately calms you down. He was still your Bucky. Just with the added bonus of sex. “Me too, sweets.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you into a hug. You suck in a deep breath. “I think you said something about going home.” You mumble into his suit jacket.

“Yeah.” He whispers back, tilting your chin up to look up. He smirks down at you. “I did.”

》

“Fuck. Fuck.” You moan as Bucky kisses down your chest. “Please, Buck.” You whimper when his right hand comes up and begins to play with your nipple.

He doesn’t respond, his tongue flicking over your other nipple. You’re arching your back into him, it feels good, but you want more. His left hand is settled on your hip and you want it on you in a different way.

You groan when he pulls away to look at you. “What do you want, sweetheart? You gotta tell me or I won’t be able to give it to you.” His tone is sweet, but he’s looking at you with blown pupils and a cocky smile.

“Your fingers, Buck, please.” You try to lift your hips up a little, but his left hand keeps you pressed against his mattress. You look at him pleadingly when he still doesn’t move. “Please, James.” You murmur.

You didn’t call him by his first name often, he had introduced himself as Bucky and you hadn’t even learned it until a few months later. Sometimes you pulled it out to tease him, but tonight… You wanted to see if it would push him.

“Fuck.” He mutters, leaning over you and beginning to press a line of kisses down your stomach all the way to your pelvic bone. “Fuck, that’s hot. Say it again.”

You throw your head back in a moan when his hand begins to rub you through your panties. “James. I need you to-“

“Gonna give you more than my fingers, sweets.” He hooks fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down. “Finally gonna get a taste of you, if that’s okay.” He glances at you and you nod hastily.

“God. Yes, please.” Your eyes flutter shut as his hands force your thighs open. His grip on you is tight and harsh and makes your entire body tingle.

“So pretty.” He murmurs just watching you. If you weren’t so turned on you would be embarrassed by his stare, but his words just make you even more desperate for him. He settles on his stomach, head between your thighs. He begins to bite and kiss his way up your inner thigh. “Been thinking about this since you let me fuck you, sweetheart.” He admits in a murmur before finally putting his mouth on you. “Thinking about how you taste.”

“Oh shit.” You moan, a combination of the pleasure of his tongue and his words giving you butterflies. “Yes. Fuck.”

“Knew you’d taste good.” He moans, the words go straight to your core and he knows it. He knows what he’s doing. His hands gripping at your hips tightly, thumbs rubbing calming circles into your skin. He flicks his tongue over your sensitive spot and your back arches. “So good.” You murmur breathily. Your hands are clutching the bed sheets as you try to grind your hips up.

Bucky pulls one hand away, it gives you a little more freedom to move but not much, and begins to tease you with a finger.

“Yes. Please, your fingers.” You beg him. Bucky chuckles against you, sending hot breath and a small vibration straight to your core. It feels good, he’s good.

He pulls away slightly and you whine. “Come on, sweets.” He urges, pushing his finger into you. You moan at the feeling. “What happened to calling me James? Said I liked it.” He adds another, your slick heat allowing them easily.

“James.” You look down at him with blown pupils. Bucky almost comes right there, his fingers inside of you, your chest heaving and you looking at him like that. “James. Please. Want your mouth on me again.”

Now that you’ve started saying his name, it’s like you can’t stop. The name tumbles out of your mouth like a prayer. He rewards you for it though, his mouth is back on you, licking over you steadily, and you can feel the tension in your stomach the closer and closer you get.

“So good.” Bucky murmurs into your skin. You moan out again. “Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” He pulls away to ask, his breath fanning across your skin. Your hips buck up towards him in desperation and Bucky groans. “Come on, sweets. Can you come for me? Please.”

He curves his fingers and flicks his tongue over your already sensitive bud again and your back arches. “Fuck. Fuck.” You moan as your orgasm washes over you. Bucky works you through it and your legs are shaking by the time he pulls his mouth away to smile cheekily at you.

“I like it when you call me James.” He whispers as he crawls up towards you. You roll you eyes with a tired smile. He fingers trace circles over you stomach. “You tired?”

You nod your head. Your eyes trail over his body, his hard dick making an obvious tent in his briefs. You smirk at him, your hand moving to trail down from his stomach to his dick. Bucky moans as your hand grips him.

“Still want you to fuck me though.”

》•

Bucky thinks maybe the two of you should establish some ground rules. No dates, if you sleep with somebody else let the other know, use protection, don’t fall asleep together.

But he can’t imagine the two of you not having your regular Sunday breakfasts together after his runs or forcing you out of his room when the two of you had shared beds long before this ever happened.

So, he ignores it. He decides to enjoy your warmth in his bed and assumes you’re not seeing anybody else. It’s good. It works, even if his friends think he’s being an idiot.

Steve is on one side while Sam is on his other and they’ve both been standing in silence now that Bucky has finished explaining what happened when the two of you left the party.

He feels bad when he sees Sam’s eyes flicker to Steve in confusion, but Steve’s face holds more pity than annoyance. It makes Bucky feel uncomfortable in his spot as he takes a sip of water.

“I don’t understand why you’re not calling her your girlfriend.” Steve finally says.

Bucky rolls his shoulders with an annoyed sigh. “I just said. We’re both busy with work and friends, there’s no time for relationships. This works for the both of us. We don’t have to rely on shitty hookups and we trust each other.”

Steve gives Bucky a look that screams you’re an idiot while Sam just laughs loudly. “You have to know how ridiculous that sounds, dude.” Sam slaps a hand against Bucky’s back. “You guys live together. You have all the time in the world to actually date each other. I thought you guys were dating each other with how you act. you’re having sex now and you still won’t call her your girlfriend?” He asks incredulously.

“I...I don’t want a relationship. It leads to marriage and kids and fights.” Bucky shudders. “No thanks. This way I get great sex and my best friend.”

Steve sighs heavily. “She deserves better than that, Buck. You know that.” His voice is full of disappointment. The same tone Bucky has been getting for years when it came to his relationships.

“Like you?” His tone is defensive and his words are meaner than they should be. Bucky knows all Steve wants is for his friends to be happy. “She’s a grown woman. She can decide who she wants to have sex with.”

“Come on, Buck. You’re not an idiot. She’s had a crush on you for years.” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is a great way to drive her away and lose her for good.”

“I’m not-”

“All,” Steve raises his voice to cut Bucky off, “I’m saying is she’ll figure out this isn’t what she wants and find someone who can give it to her. Then you’ll be left in the dust realizing what an idiot you were for letting your irrational fears talk you out of being with her.”

Bucky runs his tongue over his lips. “Who? Are you gonna steal her?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Will it be stealing when you’re the one who drives her away?”

》

His bed is empty when you wake up, but that’s no surprise, you knew Bucky ran Sunday mornings with the guys. You almost expect to feel more shame or pain over falling into this friends with benefits thing. But, you feel okay. Bucky was still your best friend. Just with mind-blowing sex. He didn’t kick you out at night and didn’t seem put off by you.

Your phone vibrates somewhere in his room from the inside of your clutch. You groan and finally move to sit up. Bucky has picked your things up and folded everything into a neat pile on the top of his dresser. Your clutch is sitting on the top of the pile and you can see the vibrations of your phone shaking it slightly.

You pick his shirt up from the floor and slide it on before reaching for your underwear underneath the clutch.

When you pull your phone out you see a few missed calls from Wanda, one last night the one you’ve just missed. You crawl into Bucky’s bed again and call her back.

“Hey!” You smile at Wanda’s voice. “I called you last night, but I forgot you had that lawyer thing.” You can imagine her nose scrunching up in disgust at the idea.

You mess with a loose thread on the comforter. “Yeah. Buck dragged me along.” There’s silence on the other end. You sigh heavily. “Shit. Wanda. You’ll never guess what I did last night.”

Your eyes take in the room. Bucky doesn’t have many decorations or knick knacks, but he has a couple pictures sitting on his nightstand. You move to his side of the bed and pick one of them up.

“You go home together?” Wanda doesn’t need to guess, there’s a twinge of disappointment in her voice but all you can focus on is the sadness you hear. Like she’s just hurting for you at this point.

You stare down at the photo in your hand. It’s from Bucky’s last birthday. “We live together.” You defect. The photo is the two of you sitting at your kitchen counter with two glasses of wine in front of you. The wine is red and you can faintly see it staining both of your lips. His arm is wrapped loosely around your waist and you’re pressing a kiss his cheek. The photo makes your heart ache. “You sleep in your room?” Wanda laughs. You drop the photo on the bed in front of you. “You’ve gotta tell him. Tell him how you feel, really.” She urges you.

You’re shaking your head even though she can’t see you. “It’ll ruin everything.” You say quietly. Losing him would be worse than loving him like this. “We... We agreed on a benefits thing last night. I think it can work.”

“That’s a great way to get hurt.” Wanda says. You glance at the other picture he has sitting on his nightstand.

It’s a photo of him and Steve. The two of them are children standing with hands wrapped tightly around the straps of their backpacks and they’ve got bright smiles on their faces. You smile at the sight, both boys happy, carefree and full of life.

Bucky’s left arm is still flesh in the photograph. He doesn’t talk about the accident much, he had come out with one arm and a completely changed person. Sometimes you wonder if things would be different if it had never happened.

You hear the front door slam shut. “I’ve gotta go! I’ll talk to you later.” You hang up before Wanda can say anything else. You leave the picture frame sitting in the bed, moving quickly from Bucky’s room to your own.

》•

Bucky’s bedroom door is open when he gets home, but you’re nowhere to be found. Your clothes still sit on his dresser and there’s a picture frame partially covered by his comforter that makes Bucky pause.

It’s his favorite picture of you two, wine stained lips and happiness radiating off of you. He wonders what had made you grab it and what had made you drop it. Steve’s words come to mind she’s had a crush on you for years.

Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He had seen the nervous smiles and bright eyes in college, he had done everything he could to stay just friends with you and it had seemed to work. You had moved on. Boyfriends and flings had come and gone, your eyes had shifted into a caring stare and you stopped nervously fidgeting with your hands around him, so Bucky had assumed your crush went away. Even now there was nothing that really stood out as you liking him. It sounded like Steve was making assumptions to mess with Bucky’s head. And it was working.

He stares at the picture for another moment before placing it back on his nightstand. Bucky wasn’t afraid of relationships, Steve was wrong, he just hated how they ended. He wasn’t afraid of holding hands or expensive dates, he was afraid of the unavoidable hurt and falling out of love that would cause him to lose you.

He couldn’t lose you.

“Bucky?” Your voice jolts him from his thoughts and his head turns from the photo to you, standing in his doorway in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair shorts. “What should we order for lunch?”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before smiling up at you. “We should get some wraps from that cafe down the block.”

“That sounds good.” You smile. Your eyes move over him and Bucky has to look away. You’ve always been good at studying him and knowing if something was up. “Everything okay?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I’m just thinking.” He offers a tense smile that makes you step further into his room. Bucky’s eyes move from your bare feet up your legs to your face that’s watching him with concerned eyes.

“That can’t be good.” You tease as you take a seat next to him. You rest your head against his shoulder and Bucky feels a little calmer with you next to him. “What’s got you spacing out like that, Buck?” You ask gently.

“You’re not…” Bucky swallows thickly and looks down at his lap. “You’re not gonna leave me, right? This isn’t gonna fuck us up?”

He feels you tense against his side and begins to panic until your hand intwines with his. “Not if we promise not to let it fuck us up. You’re my best friend, Buck. I don’t wanna lose you either.”

“I promise.” Bucky squeezes your hand. “Do you?”

You squeeze his hand in return, but don’t say anything. Bucky takes the action as promise enough.

》•

Days turn into weeks which turn into months and suddenly it’s November, fall in New York becoming winter much sooner than expected. The cold bites at your cheeks and seeps into your bones. Bucky becomes your warmth despite the constant ache in your heart at what you really are to him.

Bucky comes into your room or you sneak into his. You ignore the looks from your friends when you all go out and don’t heed to any of Wanda’s advice.

The lines are blurred to you, because it feels like you’re in a relationship. It’s almost like you’ve fallen into one naturally. It’s not just secret sex in the middle of the night. It’s all your normal things, reading together on Sundays and watching your favorite show together Saturday nights. Only now it’s started to include footsie and make-out sessions.

There are some nights the two of you go out, whether it to be to dinner or to see a new movie, and they feel like dates. Bucky never lets you pay and holds your hand in the theater.

You almost want to ask him Why. Why aren’t we official? Why can’t you call me your girlfriend? But you’re far too afraid. For every small gesture that feels like love, there are nights out with your friends where Bucky ignores your existence or awkward introductions to coworkers you run into at the movie theater.

Life moves on though. Day by day. Even if feels like you’re on a train moving full steam ahead towards a wall and impact is inevitable.

It’s nice to have a taste of what it could be like to have him.

》•

It blows up on a Thursday night, at eight thirty-two pm, to be exact.

Bucky didn’t feel like cooking, he was relieved when you had suggested going out to grab dinner, but now he just wishes the two of you had stayed home.

There’s a tense and awkward silence as the two of you walk home. You’re about ten feet in front of him and not talking at all, it honestly looks more like he’s some creep following you home at this point. If he weren’t so upset he would probably laugh at the scene.

If Bucky had just kept his mouth shut.

“Oh my god.” You groan, slouching down in your seat and covering your face with your hands. “Fuck.”

Bucky looks between you and the entrance of the restaurant confused by your sudden annoyance. “What’s wrong?” He asks leaning towards you.

“I went to high school with that girl.” You whisper. “We were friends until I stole her boyfriend.” You roll your eyes.

Bucky chokes on his drink mid-sip. “You stole her boyfriend? Right on! I didn’t know you had that in you.” He laughs, completely shocked by the idea of a you in high school who steals guys when all he’s ever known is the sweet, loyal girl.

“I didn’t actually steal her boyfriend!” You hiss. Bucky notices the girl do a double take when her eyes catch on you. “He broke up with her and asked me to prom two weeks later so she assumed I stole him. She hated me and made the last few months of senior year absolute shit for me.” You explain slipping further into your seat before taking a heavy sip of wine.

“Incoming.” He chuckles as she makes a beeline for your table. You sit up ramrod straight when her hand lands on your shoulder and your name comes out in a fake giggle.

“Eliza.” Your smile is equally as fake as you stand up to offer her a quick hug. “How are you?” Bucky watches with amused eyes as Eliza launches into a story about her boyfriend, who’s watching the scene with bored eyes from across the restaurant.

He smiles awkwardly when the two of you turn to face him. “This is my boyfriend, Bucky.” You smile tightly at the woman and Bucky watches uncomfortably as she trails her eyes over him. “Really?” Eliza asks.

“Just friends, actually.” Bucky can’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth with an awkward laugh.

Your eyes narrow at him before they flicker away. Bucky watches in what feels like slow motion as your shoulders hunch in and you close yourself off, absolutely embarrassed as Eliza turns to you with a proud smirk. “Is that right?” Her tone is nasty and Bucky is filled with regret immediately, but there’s nothing he can do because you’re grabbing your purse and jacket and storming away.

Eliza smiles at him. “She’s always been one for the dramatics.” Bucky shakes his head as he pulls out some bills and leaves them on the table, moving the chase after you. “Thanks.” He says to the woman sarcastically as he pushes past her.

That had lead him here, trailing after you silently, as you fume from a distance. “Sweetheart, come on.” Bucky pleads. The words make you freeze and spin around to face him.

Bucky stumbles backwards as you walk towards him with fury in your eyes and your finger pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’ve always called you sweetheart,” Bucky frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just-”

“You didn’t embarrass me, James.” Bucky flinches as you spit out his first name like it’s poison. “You humiliated me. Was it really that big a deal? That I introduced you as my boyfriend? Does the idea of dating me disgust you that much?”

Bucky throws his hands out in front of him in a defensive gesture. “No! I just... We’re not dating. You know that!” He shakes his head. “I mean, dating you doesn’t disgust me... I just... You know?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “No. I don’t know.” You say coldly. “It’s not like we’re not dating. You have to see that.”

“See what?” Bucky asks, completely exasperated. “We do everything we used to do and sometimes have sex.”

“Oh my god!” Your laugh sounds manic as you pause and look up at the sky like you’re searching for an answer. “Have you ever thought that maybe we weren’t ever just friends, Bucky? That we didn’t act like normal best friends do?” You cross your arms and look back at him.

Yes. Bucky thinks immediately. “No!” He swallows. “I’ve always seen you as my best friend! Never... Never...” He’s dug himself a deeper and deeper hole every time he’s opened his mouth, but this is the nail in his coffin. He says your name gently, but you’re already backing away, hurt all over your face.

“I guess I read everything wrong then.” You say quietly. “These stupid dates and us falling asleep together at night. All the holding hands and cuddling, right?” Your voice is filled with wet emotion and Bucky is sure if it wasn’t so dark outside he would see tears brimming your eyes. “You do that with all your friends. I mean nothing.”

“That’s not what I said!” Bucky exclaims. “You know you’re one of the most important women in my life. Please. Don’t do this.” He pleads.

“I’m done. Okay? This stupid benefits thing? These friend dates, Sunday mornings together, movies? Done with all of it.” You hiss. You suck in a deep breath, like you’re preparing to deliver the final blow. Bucky braces himself. “You wanna be just friends? I’ll do you one better, we can be just roommates. That way there’s no confusion.”

Bucky can only stand still, watching as you walk away.

》

Wanda has a kind enough heart to not say I told you so, when you show on her doorstep with mascara running down your cheeks. She just pulls you inside by your arm and wraps her softest blanket around your shoulders.

“What happened?” She places a cup of tea on her coffee table in front of you. You can vaguely hear Vision trying to move around in the kitchen as quietly as possible. There’s an unspoken question that lingers in the air. What did Bucky do?

You sniffle. “We ran into Eliza tonight.” Wanda’s eyes widen and you nod. “I… I introduced Bucky as my boyfriend. It just slipped out, but he totally panicked and corrected me right to her face. I was so humiliated, I bolted.”

Wanda takes the seat beside you on the couch. “That’s awful. I can’t believe that idiot,” she hisses the word, “couldn’t put aside his dumb fears for five seconds and just have your back.”

You rub your eyes harshly. “That’s not the worst part of the night. I think the worst part was when he reiterated we were just friends and that he’s never seen me as anything more than that.”

Wanda’s mouth drops open in shock and you can even hear Vision murmur something along the lines of oh shit in the kitchen.

“Good way to get hurt, huh?” You reiterate Wanda’s words from weeks ago and her face falls into a look a pity. “I’m so stupid. Why did I even agree to doing benefits with him?”

“We all do dumb things when we love someone.” She says soothingly as she rubs her hand across your back. “I know this hurts, but look at the silver lining. Now you can move on, for real. Bucky’s made his intentions clear and you can find someone better.”

You look at her sadly. “What if there isn’t someone better?” You almost choke on your own breath as you talk through your tears. “What if no one makes me feel that way?”

Wanda shakes her head and reaches up to grip your chin between her fingertips. It forces you to look into her blazing eyes. “Bucky’s nothing more than a man with commitment issues. We’re in New York City, there are millions of them. And for every Bucky, there’s a…a…”

“Vision.” You offer up with a teasing smile. Wanda blushes, but nods. “There’s a Vision. And yours is out there, he was just waiting for Bucky to fuck up.”

You let out a choke laugh. “Yeah…” You trail off. “Can I crash here? I don’t think I can-“

“-Of course.” Wanda cuts you off. “For as long as you need.”

》

Bucky doesn’t even want to go inside. He just stands outside his apartment door staring blankly at the lock. It doesn’t feel like home without you there.

You haven’t been home in three days and if it weren’t for your instagram stories with Wanda and Vision, Bucky would think you were dead.

You haven’t reached out at all, he isn’t sure if you had come by the apartment to grab personal things and when he had asked the guys if they had heard from you, Steve had just given him an I told you this would happen lecture.

Bucky feels like a fucking idiot. Bucky is a fucking idiot. He shoves his key into the lock with a sigh.

“Bucky?” A voice calls out. It makes him freeze in the doorway. It’s your voice. He’s sure it is. Nobody else had a key to the apartment. You pop out of the kitchen with a smile. “It is you!”

Your demeanor has done a complete flip. There’s no harsh stare or fiery eyes, just smiles. It leaves his head spinning. For the past three days he’s been trying to figure out how to make things better and you’re…fine?

“He…hey.” He pushes the word out. “Um. What are you doing here?”

Your brows furrow. “I live here?” You laugh softly before turning back into the kitchen. Bucky follows you dumbly, completely awestruck by your sudden reappearance.

“I thought… I thought you were mad at me?” He asks hesitantly.

“I was. Now I’m not.” You shrug. You move around the kitchen easily, putting groceries away that Bucky hadn’t even noticed with his entire focus on you.

He moves towards you. “Sweetheart-“

You interrupt him with your name and suddenly the fire is back in your eyes. Oh. This isn’t Bucky’s best friend coming back into his life.

It’s his roommate coming back home.

Just like you had promised.

》•

Bucky tries to catch you some days. He’ll tilt his head in an attempt to force your eyes to meet his while you talk about nothing after he gets home from work.

You always avoid them, terrified one look into the blue you’ve loved for so long and you’ll crumble at his feet. You chatter about nothing important, the weather outside and your neighbor upstairs who always stomps around at four in the morning.

Bucky always listens intently and you begin to feel a little guilty for cutting him out completely. You just needed some time to get over him, then one day you could come home and watch Law and Order with him again and cook dinner together.

But for now, you pretend he’s nothing more than a roommate and like you’re not desperately in love with him.

It’ll work. It has to work.

》

Your name is like honey coming from Steve’s lips. He’s got a kind smile on his face as he hands over your coffee. He had slipped behind you in line at the coffee shop with a sheepish hello.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as you take it from him. “I can pay for my own coffee.” You can see the ingredients scribbled onto the side of his paper cup and it makes you smile into your sip.

Steve Rogers had a sweet tooth.

“Day off? Or just a break?” You hold the coffee shop door open for him to follow you out onto the street. Steve gives you a thankful smile.

“Break. I’m heading back to the office now.” He takes a sip of his drink. There were two weeks left of November and the streets of New York were doing their annual flip. Christmas lights going up too early and gloomy skies overhead.

You walk beside him, one hand shoved into your pocket. “Mind if I walk with you? I’m off today and I am so bored just sitting around the apartment.”

“Not at all!” Steve answers quickly. There’s a slight flush on his cheeks that you attribute to the wind nipping at both your cheeks. “I could use the company of someone other than corporate lawyers.”

You laugh at his dramatic eye roll. “You know most of your friends work at that firm.” Steve gives you an unapologetic smile. “Two friends and I can admit they can both be dicks sometimes.”

He looks at you like he knows something and you swallow, turning to look straight ahead of you. “I disagree.” You finally say after a moment. He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Sam is always a sweetheart.”

That startles a laugh out of Steve, who looks at you with a shine in his eyes. He shakes his head and looks down at the sidewalk in front of him. “You okay? I know that-“

“-I’m fine.” You cut him off. You look up at him with a half smile. “And we don’t have to talk about it. In fact, let’s not.” You force out a laugh and Steve nods slowly.

You end up walking the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Steve has a reassuring presence, something you don’t think you’ve ever even realized until now. Warmth radiates off of his body and his eyes give everything he feels away. Steve is a good apple. At least that’s what your grandmother would say if she had met him.

“This is me.” Steve says softly as he slows to a stop outside the corporate building. If you look around you’ll notice every building near by looks almost exactly the same. “Thanks for walking with me.” He says softly with a nervous smile.

You smile back. “Thanks for buying me coffee.” You hold it up towards him as if to show him. “And for letting me tag along.”

Steve shakes his head. You’re sure he has to get back to work soon, you know their days are usually full and small breaks like this were just that - small. “You don’t have to thank me. I… I like hanging out with you. You’re cool.” He scrunches his nose up when he realizes what he’s just said but you giggle.

“Cool?” You ask with a teasing smile. Steve looks down at his feet with red dusting his cheeks. “I think you’re cool too.” The words are soft as you nudge his boot clad foot with yours.

Steve looks up with bright eyes. “Yeah?” You nod and he smiles to himself. “We should… We should hang out more.” He suggests hesitantly.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. Steve looks about two seconds away from being sick with nerves and it’s sweet. Completely and utterly tooth rottingly sweet that someone is this nervous around you. Your heart picks up at him wanting to hang out more.

“Like dates?” You question quietly. Steve turns a bright shade of right and you’re reminded of Bucky blurting his secret out weeks ago. “I would like that.” You don’t give him a chance to respond to your first question.

He smiles so bright that you’re blinded by it. “Yeah?” You nod with a small smile. “Yeah. Now go back to work!” You shove his shoulder lightly which makes him laugh. “You have my number.”

He’s nodding happily as he backs away. “I do! I’ll text you?”

“Please!” You laugh as he pushes through the glass doors backwards, almost running over a women. He smiles awkwardly at her before facing you once again. You wave as he disappears into the crowd of people.

When he’s out of sight you let out a sigh. He was kind and incredibly endearing. Steve was a man every woman would be lucky to date. Why did you feel so guilty for flirting then?

You know why.

You ignore it.

》

Bucky watches with pursed lips from his spot by the front desk as you and Steve chat outside. He tries his best to read lips, but your both standing at an angle that makes it near impossible.

“You’re not creepy at all.” The voice makes him jump and he turns to look at Sam, leaning against the opposite side of the reception desk. Martha, the woman who runs the desk, looks between them in amusement. “Steve is some kind of psychic, huh?” He snorts.

Bucky turns his glare onto Sam. “It’s not my fault they’re out there for everyone to see.” He snaps before turning his eyes back on the scene in front of him.

Sam laughs loudly and Bucky watches his Steve embarrasses himself by running into a girl leaving the building. He would feel better about it, if he couldn’t see you smiling brightly at the man.

Bucky loves Steve, but he wants nothing more than to punch him in the face for not staying away from you. Even though Bucky is fully aware you’re both adults with minds of you own, he had never imagined Steve would actually sweep you off your feet.

When Steve makes his way towards Sam and Bucky, Sam has got a cheesy smile on his face and Bucky can do nothing but glare. “Got myself a date, boys.” He smacks a hand against Bucky’s back.

“It’s like… She was run right into my arms.” He smirks before making his way towards the elevator. Sam follows behind Steve with another loud laugh.

Bucky is left standing in the lobby alone. He watches your form retreat across the street and sighs. He had made a mess of things, huh?

》

You can’t get the dress to zip up all the way. You’ve tried a multitude of angles, from pulling the dress up and trying to reach it over your shoulder to almost breaking your arm at an awkward angle.

You sigh in defeat as you stand in front of your mirror. You can hear Bucky in his room across the hall, music playing a little too loud and his footsteps around the room. He’s got his cleaning playlist on, it forces a small smile to appear on your face.

You suck in a deep breath. Roommates helped each other with zippers. It was normal, Bucky could help you with a zipper.

“Bucky.” You knock softly on his door. There’s no answer, he probably can’t hear anything over the music. You knock harder. “Bucky?” The music stops and you suck in a nervous breath.

His door flies open and his eyes widen when he sees you standing in the half zipped dress. His eyes narrow. “What’s up?”

Your fingers fidget in front of your stomach as you look at him nervously. “Can you… Can you help me zip the rest of the way? I just can’t get it.” You admit sheepishly.

Bucky nods. “Turn around.” He orders softly and you do as he says. His fingers find the zipper stuck halfway up your back and your breath hitches. You think you hear his do the same as he begins to pull it up slowly.

It’s a tense silence as his hands rest on your back for a second too long. When he drops them back to his side, you turn to look at him. He shuts his eyes tightly and sighs. “Listen. About what happened-“

There’s a knock at your door that makes you step away. You look at Bucky apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” You take a few stumbling steps away.

You feel his eyes on you as you move through the apartment and collect your purse and jacket. When you open the door, Steve is standing there with flowers and it makes you pause.

Bucky’s bedroom door slams shut when you pull the flowers into your own hand. His music starts playing again as you get them into water. You and Steve smile awkwardly at each other.

When Steve’s hand lands on your lower back to guide you out of the building, all you can think is Bucky’s hands there earlier, warmer and somehow softer, you try to ignore how wrong it feels.

You were moving on. It would get better.

》•

Bucky’s pathetic. That much he knows. Four drinks in and he’s missing you desperately. All he can think about is Steve’s hand on your back and how you look in that red dress.

Did you know it was Steve’s favorite color? Is that why you had worn it? He had seen the black lace of your bra underneath when zipping the dress for you, had you worn that on purpose too?

He feels like he’s hit rock bottom. Like it can’t get worse than this. His best friend on a date with his other best friend who he wasn’t talking to anymore because he wanted a friends with benefits thing.

I had other friends, he thinks. Friends who I could stand to lose. Why did I want her? Why did I do that?

Annoyingly enough, Steve’s voice is what answers him. You’re in love with her. The words make Bucky jolt up in his seat because, well, he’s never thought that before. He’s always known he loved you in a platonic sense and that he cared for you deeply, but being in love with you?

That can’t be it. Bucky didn’t really do being in love. He’s seen what that does to people. He saw what it did to his mother, heartbroken and left with two kids to raise on her own. He’s seen what heartbreak has done to Becca, who used to lock herself away in her room and spend hours crying over boys who weren’t worth it.

He snorts to himself, taking another sip of his drink. They say you can only go up from from rock bottom. Bucky thinks he’s got some kind of special ability to go lower though as he stares at his phone.

He wants to text you and beg you to come home. He calls his mom instead. “Ma?” He asks quietly when she picks the phone up. “It’s Bucky.”

“I have caller ID. I know.” She lets out a laugh. “What’s up? You sound upset, my love.” She asks gently.

“I fucked up, Ma.” Bucky admits after a moment of silence. “I…”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” She sounds panicked and Bucky immediately feels bad for worrying her.

“No I mean, like, with Y/N. I fucked up with her.” He explains. His mother inhales sharply at the sound of his best friends name.

“What happened?” She asks softly, almost knowingly.

“We… I… I’m not meant for relationships? You know? Love? It always ends bad so I told her we could just be friends with some benefits.” He feels a little embarrassed sharing this with his mother, but he doesn’t have anybody else to turn to. “And I fucked it up. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too.” Bucky can admit that he blurred the lines. That he didn’t treat you like just a friend, but when had he ever? You’d always been a little closer than normal friends.

“Oh Bucky.” His mother murmurs, her tone isn’t disappointed, just sad. “I’m so sorry your father did this to you.” Bucky rubs a hand over his face. “Ma-“

“-No, Bucky. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the value of romantic love. Of love that keeps you warm and love that makes your heart race.” She says quietly.

“It always ends in heartbreak. I don’t need it.” He says defensively. It’s silent, Bucky listens to his mom breathe before finally whispering, “What if I’m like him? What if I ruin her life?”

“Oh sweetheart, you’re nothing like him.” Her voice cracks. “You’re good. You’re a good man. You’re empathetic. You care deeply. You don’t have to be afraid of ending up like him, you’ve already proven you won’t.”

“Doesn’t feel like that.” Bucky lets out a short laugh. “Feels like I already am.”

“James Buchanan Barnes. I am not going to sit here and listen to you talk about yourself like this. You’re not like him because you see what you’ve done wrong. Because you feel remorse.” She says heatedly. “Your father never felt bad for what he did or who he hurt, that’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you better.”

Bucky wipes hastily at the tears that he hadn’t realized were falling down his cheeks until now. Has he always been this much of a light weight? Full of emotion and regrets that are only amplified by his drunkenness.

“I love that girl like she’s my own.” His mother’s voice brings him back. “So, what are you gonna do to fix this? I already bought her Christmas present.”

Bucky laughs. His chest feels a little lighter. “Leave her alone.” He answers genuinely. He can almost see his mother’s mouth open in protest. “She’s on a date with Steve. I can’t ruin that for either of them.”

There’s a sigh on the other end of the line. “You’re a good man, Bucky. Every good man makes mistakes. It’ll all work out.” She says vehemently.

“I love you, ma. Thank you.” Bucky looks at the bottle in front of him. “I love you too. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She asks gently. “Okay.” He nods as she hangs up.

Her words help, but he’s still filled with guilt as he thinks of you. He had never wanted things to become this messed up with you. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate him.

Then why’d you do it? Bucky pulls at his hair. Since when was his subconscious so annoying? Was it the drinks? It’s your voice next. I mean nothing to you?

“No. Shut up.” Bucky says to himself before standing up, his knee knocking against the coffee table painfully. He groans, but doesn’t stop moving. He feels like he’s going to be sick. He is going to be sick, he realizes as he forces the bathroom door open.

He throws up. He’s not sure if it’s from the drinks or this overwhelming feeling of pure angst in his chest. A feeling that makes his lungs constrict and his heart ache.

He briefly wonders if this is heartbreak. And if it was, did that mean Steve was right? Bucky loved you?

He makes it back to the couch and starts a random movie in an attempt to stay up and wait for you. To talk or something. He was so, so sick of not talking to you.

But he falls asleep less than fifteen minutes later and he doesn’t hear you step into the apartment.

》•

“I had a really nice time tonight.” You say quietly. It’s almost midnight and you’re sure your neighbors wouldn’t appreciate you waking them up. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Steve stuffs his hands into his jacket pocket and gives you a grin. “Thanks for letting me take you out.”The two of you look at each other before breaking eye contact with awkward laughs. “We should do this again.”

You nod. “We should!” You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek before turning towards your door. “I’ll see you later, Steve.” You say softly before pushing the door open.

Steve gives you a short wave with a happy smile. “See you.” He begins to back away, down the hallway. “I’ll just.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder before spinning around to walk straight.

You laugh silently to yourself as you finally step into your apartment and shut the door behind you. With your eyes shut tightly, you lean your back against the door and let out a sigh.

Your silence is disturbed by a groan and your eyes shoot open. Bucky’s laying on the couch, one arm hanging off and a bottle of whiskey sitting almost completely empty in front of him.

“Oh, Bucky.” You let out a sad sigh as you drop your purse and keys on the entryway table. His eyes are squeezed shut, you can tell he’s in a deep sleep.

When you stand in front of him, you push the stray hairs that are stuck to his sweaty forehead back. He’s flushed and you don’t know exactly how much he’s had to drink, but he was definitely drunk. You allow your nails to trace over his cheekbones and jawline in admiration.

You move away, suddenly aware of what you’re actually doing. You move quickly, picking up the empty glass and whiskey bottle and moving towards the kitchen. You leave the glass in the sink and stuff the bottle back into your drinks cabinet.

You think of just going back to your room, but you know you can’t leave Bucky shivering on the couch. You grab a clean glass and fill it with water before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. You pull out your travel Advil from your purse and sit it next to glass. His favorite blanket is draped over the back your lounge chair. You pull it off and drape it over him gently. Bucky snuffles then turns so his face is pressed into the couch.

You look down at Bucky again before leaving him in the room.

》

It’s like there’s a shift between you and Bucky after your date with Steve. You’re kinder and you seem to be more open with him again, while all Bucky wants to do is hide away in his room.

Every time you sit across from him in the living room or join him for dinner, he feels panic rise in him like vile and he ends up sitting tensely beside you.

Because you’re figuring your shit out. You want to be friends with Bucky again while Steve takes you out every weekend. It’s perfect. Going swimmingly, really.

Except, Bucky is falling apart. Every time you go out with Steve he makes himself sick thinking about what you’re doing. He’s stuck in this constant cycle of why does it hurt so much and you love her you love her you love her.

He just wants to scream so what? Even if he did love you, what did it matter? It’s not like it would change anything. You had never told him you loved him, you had only been angry because he had given you mixed signals. Now, you had moved on to someone easy, someone without commitment fears and who didn’t give you mixed signals.

So, even if he did love you, why would he say anything. Why would he ruin something good for you? He wanted to prove his mother right. He was better than his father, and he wouldn’t ruin something good for you. Not when he was the one who had driven you away. Sick sense of irony, the way this worked out.

》

You’re trying. You can tell Bucky is too. As you come further out of your shell again, he sticks to staunch boundaries and has ceased all of his old affectionate gestures. You know it makes sense and it’s for the best. Even if it does nothing but remind you of what you had grown used to with him before all this.

Besides, you couldn’t blame Bucky for not feeling the same way you did. Not when you had agreed to just benefits and not when you had never told him the truth.

And Steve was sweet. Steve was gentle and kind and kissed you like you mattered. He held your hand in public and introduced you as his date when you ran into people he knew.

He was good. You cared for him, a lot, and you were desperate for it to work out. For it to work out with Steve and for it to work out with Bucky.

That’s how this night started. These thoughts and a plan. A stupid fucking plan for moving on. Drinks with everyone. Wanda, Vision, Sam, Steve… Bucky.

Bucky who was talking to a redhead at the bar. Bucky who you couldn’t stop staring at as he smiled and charmed her. Your fist tightened around your glass as you watch her nails inch towards his hand.

“Another round of drinks?” Sam’s voice pulls you from your stare. You shake your head to yourself and glance around table. Everybody’s glasses are empty except yours. “I’ll go!” You offer as you drain the last of your drink quickly.

You stand up before anybody at the table can question it. “I can help you.” Steve goes to stand, but you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s up there. I’m sure he’ll help!” You give him a big smile, one that he answers with furrowed eyebrows. You don’t think much of it as you spin on your heel and make a beeline for the bar.

You don’t see the look Wanda shoots you or the glance Sam and Steve share. You stop right behind Bucky and lean on the counter as you order then you tap him on his shoulder.

He spins quickly. “What’s up? Everyone okay?” He asks, his eyes shifting between you and the table of your friends.

“Yeah!” You give him a small smile. “I was sent for drinks and I didn’t realize how many there were. Think you could help?”

He glances between you and the redhead, who’s giving you a kind smile as she waits. You smile in return before looking up at Bucky again. “Please?” You tack on with a pout.

Bucky laughs. “Yeah. Whatever.” He looks down at the woman again. “You wanna join us? Promise everyone is super cool.”

Your eyes widen as the drinks are placed in front of you. She wasn’t supposed to come. This was supposed to… You pause.

This was supposed to get him away from her. Back to your side.

“Yeah!” You give her a fake smile. “You should join us, we could always use more girls.” You chuckle as you lift three glasses.

Bucky grabs the other three before looking at the woman in question. She shrugs before grabbing her own glass to follow after you two.

You hand out the glasses before taking your seat beside Steve again. He arm comes up to rest behind your chair and you can’t shake the urge to push it off.

“Guys, this is Natasha.” Bucky gestures to the woman besides him before pulling a chair out for her. “Natasha. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Sam.” He points everyone out before finishing off with you. She smiles politely at all of you. You grind your teeth as he sits beside her.

The group seems to take a liking to her right away. She laughs at Sam’s jokes and compliments Wanda’s engagement ring. You’re burning with jealously as Bucky flirts in front of all of you.

It’s wholly irrational, a sober you would know that this jealously doesn’t really make sense. Three mixed drinks in though and it feels like Bucky is doing this to hurt you.

It feels like he’s showing you what he could never do with you. He never flirted with you in front of your friends or allowed his hand to inch towards yours on the table in front of them.

Bucky was secretly affectionate with you. It was tangled feet on Sunday mornings and cuddling Saturday nights. Sex in the middle of night and… heartbreak the next morning.

So his drifting hand and charming smile directed towards Natasha is suffocating you with insecurity. What did she have?

“I’m going home.” You stand abruptly when Bucky leans towards her with a laugh. Your shaky on your feet and Steve reaches a hand out to stabilize you. Everyone looks at you with confusion. “I… I don’t feel good.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Steve stands immediately.

You shake your head. “No!” When he freezes and looks at you with hurt eyes you smile tightly. “I mean, I’m going to take a Lyft. You stay here, have fun.”

“At least let me wait with you. So you’re not in the cold alone.” He insists and you nod slowly.

You really want to be alone, to wallow in this feeling, but Steve was nice and of course he wouldn’t let you go alone.

You watch Bucky for a moment, like you expect him to say something, to offer to come with you. Like he always did, but his attention shifts back to Natasha as Steve’s arm wraps around your waist.

It’s silent as he guides you out of the bar and tense as you order the Lyft. “Fifteen minutes.” You say softly.

Steve nods and looks around the almost empty street. You open your mouth to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.

“What happened between you and Bucky?” He asks quietly, his hands stuffed into his jacket pocket, and his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

You swallow thickly. “He didn’t tell you?” You ask instead of answering the question.

“He told me you guys had a friends with benefits thing going on. Then he told me you didn’t.” He doesn’t look angry, just sad as he stares down at you. “You know Bucky, he doesn’t share a lot.”

You look down at the sidewalk, your heel scuffing against it nervously. “I don’t know. I read things wrong, I guess. I… I thought we had a chance?” Your tone is questioning and you let out a laugh in a self-deprecating manner.

“You still love him?” You eyes shoot up to meet Steve’s. You open your mouth to say something, anything, to turn this conversation around but the door opening takes your attention off of the conversation.

It’s Bucky and Natasha, laughing softly with one another. You turn away quickly and feel the vomit rise in your throat. “I’m gonna be sick.” You murmur before throwing up all over Steve’s shoes. He grimaces and takes a step back as the couple turns around at the sound of you.

Bucky calls out your name. You can’t look up, instead you drop to the ground and sit on the sidewalk ledge.“Are you okay?” Bucky kneels down beside you as you cough.

“I’m fine. You can go. Go.” You urge, unable to look up at him. Bucky doesn’t budge though, his hand coming up to push back the hairs stuck to your forehead. “Bucky. Please.” You groan.

“I’ll walk her home.” Bucky says to Steve, ignoring your pleas. “The air will do her some good and the car moving will only make her feel worse.”

Steve looks between you two hesitantly. “I don’t know, I can take her.” You still feel nauseous, especially at the idea of Steve who you’re pretty sure just broke up with you wanting to keep you away from Bucky for your comfort.

When you look up, Natasha is standing behind Bucky with worried eyes. You feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes as they move to Bucky. He smiles gently, his hand still resting against your cheek. “Let me walk you home, sweets.”

The nickname makes your heart soar. Months of nothing but your first name and you feel like you’re floating at the sound of it. “Okay.” You nod, your hand coming up to rest on his. “Okay.” You pull out your phone to cancel the Lyft.

He helps you stand. “I’ll see you.” He says apologetically to Natasha. She doesn’t look upset, in fact she smiles at him like she knows something you two don’t. “I’ll let you know when we get home.” He says to Steve, who nods before following Natasha inside.

You feel flushed and hot all over. A horrible mixture of drinks, jealously and nausea settling in your stomach. It makes you horribly dizzy and you’re forced to lean against Bucky heavily for support.

“One step at a time, sweets.” Bucky says softly, his metal arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

》

“Almost there.” Bucky exhales a deep breath as he all but carries you towards the couch. He’d given up on getting you down the hall, you had pretty much become dead weight and getting you down the hall to the apartment had taken a lot out of Bucky. “Few more steps, sweets.”

Bucky’s cheeks are red and his entire body is warm. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and he can’t help but feel his heart grow as you latch onto him.

“Easy. Easy.” He murmurs as he sits you down gently on the couch. You mumble incoherently as you head lands on the back of the couch.

He pulls away from you and pulls his phone out. Sorry to leave you, maybe we can catch up another time?

Maybe. As friends, of course.

Bucky glances at you before looking back down at his phone, he begins to type but another message pops up quickly.

I saw the way you looked at her, I don’t think you’re looking for a girlfriend! It’s okay :)

Bucky leaves the phone sitting on the coffee table as he focuses his attention back on you. You open your eyes and look at him sadly. “What’s wrong with me?” You ask quietly.

“Nothing.” Bucky responds immediately, his hand reaching out for your cheek. The moan of relief you let out at the coolness of his metal appendage goes straight through Bucky. “Nothing is wrong with you.” He forces his voice to stay steady.

He takes a seat next to you on the couch and drops his hand back to his lap. While you stare at the carpeted floor, Bucky’s eyes trail over you. He takes in the skin tight pants and soft sweater. The way your legs look makes him swallow thickly. You were beautiful and Bucky loved you.

The thought makes him pause, but it doesn’t scare him nearly as much as he thought it would. He did. He loved you. He knew looking at you now that the months of questioning it and then trying to make himself believe it was just as a friend as you dated Steve, was all in vain. He loved you. Maybe he had loved this whole time.

You look up at him suddenly, like you can hear his thoughts, and Bucky is frozen in his spot. You move towards him slowly and he can’t do anything but watch.

You crawl into his lap and Bucky’s hands immediately rest on your waist to hold you steady. “What… What’re doing?” He can’t hide the shock in his tone. He has to hold back a moan as your hands come up to run through his hair. You left yanks gently at the hair on the back of his head to force him to look up at you and Bucky is unable to stop the moan from slipping out then.

You smile down at him cheekily. “Want you to fuck me.” Your already slurred words are murmured, so Bucky almost doesn’t understand you. “It’s been so long, Buck.” You grind down and he chokes on his own spit, not expecting his night to end like this.

“You gotta stop, sweets.” His grip on you waist tightens in an attempt to halt your movements. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He says, looking back up at you.

Your hands rest on his shoulders and you shake your head. “I know I hated seeing you with her. I hate not having you. Please, I miss you.” You whisper pleadingly.

The words pain Bucky. “I miss you too, but you don’t want this.” He gently pushes you off of his lap and back onto the couch cushions beside him.

Your head falls to your hands while your elbows rest against your legs. “Why don’t you want me?” You look back up at him with wet eyes. Bucky freezes. Is that what you thought? That he didn’t want you?

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I want you.” He admits, reaching out to pull your hands away from your face completely. You shake your head and pull yourself away from him.

“If you wanted me you wouldn’t have flirted with her all night. In front of me. In front of our friends.” Bucky looks at you with wide eyes. How could you be upset with him over that when you had gone with Steve? When you had been dating Steve?

“You’re with Steve.” He reminds you. “Am I supposed to not flirt with other people? You told me we were just roommates. We’re barely even friends!” He exclaims.

“No! I told you that because you hurt me.” You wipe tears off of your cheeks. “You… You made me feel like I was something to you then told me I was just a fuck. I was hurt.” You explain. “God, you- I loved you so much and you just - just-“

“You love me?” Bucky cuts you off. He knows you’re drunk, but the words make his heart race. He feels his eyes soften as he stares at your form.

The tears gathered in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks as you shake your head hastily. “Loved you. I loved you. But you didn’t love me, so I moved on.”

Bucky didn’t know it was possible to physically feel your heart break, but here he was, his heart cracking painfully as you look away from him.

“I’m so tired.” You whisper. “Why could you flirt with her in front of all our friends? Why… Why was I a dirty secret?”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to you. Doesn’t know how to explain to you that he wasn’t afraid of losing her the way he was you. He didn’t know her at all, he certainly didn’t know her the way he knew you.

“We should get you to bed.” Bucky stands abruptly. His hands come down to hold your arms gently as he helps you stand. “We can talk in the morning.”

You allow him to pull you up, it looks like you’ve given up on furthering the conversation. Bucky picks you up bridal style to carry you down the hall.

Your arms rest loosely around his neck. “Steve broke up with me.” You say as Bucky drops you onto your mattress. “He knows about us. He doesn’t want someone who… who…” You trail off before falling into a fit coughs.

“We’ll talk in the morning.” Bucky says softly, his fingers trailing over your cheeks. “I promise, sweetheart.” You already have a water bottle on your nightstand, so Bucky searches your vanity for Advil.

He leaves two pills beside the bottle. You’re already dozing off, your eyes fluttering shut, so Bucky leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. When he goes to pull back, your hand shoots out and wraps around his wrist. “Stay. Please.” You whisper.

Bucky hesitates for a second before nodding and sitting beside you on the bed as he pulls his shoes off. His heart races as he moves to lay beside you and he feels flushed as you curl into his side.

He allows himself to relax with you in his arms. It had been so long since you’ve been beside him like this and Bucky lets himself feel love as you do.

Is this what he had been afraid of the entire time?

》

You wake up hot, nauseous and with a pounding headache.

And something wrapped tightly around you. When you open your eyes fully, the first thing you see is a metal arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You groan when your eyes trail up and the sunlight streaming in from your window hits you.

A deeper groan is returned and it makes you freeze. You rack your brain for what happened last night, but all you could remember was getting sick outside the bar and Bucky taking you home. Had you said something? Had he?

You turn over in his arms and look up at him. His eyes are still closed and he’s letting out steady, soft breaths.

“Bucky.” You whisper, your hand coming up to rest against his chest. “Bucky, wake up.” You say a little louder.

His eyes snap open and immediately he pulls away from you. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. You… You…” He sots up and rubs a hand over his face.

“I don’t… What happened? I just remember you walking me home.” You sit up slowly. You’re still wearing your leggings and the sweater from last night. You groan. “I’m sorry I took you away from…” He shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I offered. You asked me to stay when I got you into bed, I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable.” His apology is sincere and you suck in a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I don’t… You know I don’t mind falling asleep with you.” Neither of you move or say anything, just sit on opposite sides of your bed in awkward silence. “I-“

“I love you.” Bucky blurts effectively cutting you off. Your eyes widen and your pulse quickens as you stare at him. You had not been expecting that. “And… I’m sorry it took all of this. Not being friends, Steve, drinks, for me to realize, but I do. I think I’ve always loved you, I just… I didn’t know it.”

You shake your head as you try to process what he’s saying. “I don’t… I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”

“I… Seeing you with Steve. I didn’t… It killed me inside.” Bucky admits.

“And you think that means you love me?” You spit out. “You said it yourself, Bucky Barnes doesn’t do relationships.” You shake your head. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have my attention anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Bucky says adamantly. He turns his body on the bed so it’s facing you. “It made me realize I love you. It made me realize my favorite time of the day is when I get to spend time with you. That our Sundays spent reading and Saturdays watching Law and Order were always better than bars or parties because I was with you. I… I want to do the relationship things with you. Holding hands, just sleeping together. Telling people you’re my girlfriend.”

You stare at him tearfully. “How do you know it’s love? That you didn’t just miss me?”

“I know what it’s like to miss you. This feeling? This warmth in my chest when you’re around and the ache there when you’re gone? That’s not missing you. I...” He pauses. “I love you. And It’s okay if you don’t feel the same anymore-“

“-Anymore?” You question. Your eyes squeeze shut as you headache gets worse. “Bucky, what-“

“You told me you loved me last night. You were drunk, I know, but-“

“Fuck.” You laugh to yourself as you take in everything he has said. Pieces of last night come flashing back to your mind. Crawling into Bucky’s lap, crying, admitting you had loved him. “Oh God.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

“Bucky you don’t have to-“ You shake your head. “You don’t have to try and make this something it isn’t because you feel bad.”

“I’m not.” Bucky reaches a hand out to rest on your back. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

You look over at him. “Prove it.”

》

Steve meets him for coffee later that morning. You’re out with Wanda for Sunday brunch and Bucky is on his final stop of his apology tour.

“Hey.” Steve looks up from his phone and smiles at Bucky. “Can I sit?” Bucky motions to the chair across from him and Steve nods.

Steve pushes a black coffee over to Bucky, whose nose scrunches up at the scent. Fair, Bucky thinks. “What’s up?” Steve asks quietly. “You missed our run this morning.”

Bucky looks down at the table. “I had some stuff to deal with. You know with-“ Bucky cuts himself when Steve nods. “Listen, I wanted to say I’m sorry. Shit was never supposed to get this messed up.”

Steve shrugs. “You tell her?” He gives Bucky a knowing smile. “That you love her?”

Bucky gives him a small smile in return. “I did. Yeah.” He taps his fingers against the table. “She’s got some, uh, trust issues with me. But it makes sense. We’re gonna take it slow.”

“I’m happy for you, Buck.” Steve admits after taking a sip of his drink. “I was never mad or angry with you. I always knew she still cared for you and I think I always knew it would never be anything serious.”

Bucky nods. “Thanks, Steve.” He looks down at his coffee with an appreciative smile.

“Besides,” Steve smirks, “Natasha is super cool. We exchanged numbers last night after she asked about what was going on between you two.”

》

Bucky invites you to spend Christmas with his family. You don’t even have to think about it before you say yes. Christmases with his family were always full of warmth and love; You absolutely loved it.

You’re more excited to be here this year too, to celebrate with him in this way. As his girlfriend, you had heard him tell Rebecca over the phone when informing her of his plans to drive up to see them Christmas Eve.

You had the perfect gift for him too, well, you have a few gifts for him. Most of them could wait for Christmas with his mom and sister, but there were two you were just desperate to see his reaction to.

That’s why you slip out of his room in the early hours of the morning when the sky is still dark and everybody is asleep.

That’s how Bucky wakes up, a small, wrapped box sitting on the nightstand and you nowhere to be found. Bucky eyes the box warily before looking around the rest of his bedroom. Your suitcase is unzipped and he can tell it’s be riffled through before being shoved back into the corner os his room.

His door is pushed open quietly. “Why are you up?” His voice makes you jump and spin so your back slams against the door. Bucky has to bite back a laugh as you take a couple deep, calming breaths.

“I...I was going to wake you up.” You tip toe across the room and crawl into bed beside Bucky. You suck in a deep, nervous breath. While you and Bucky had been dating for the past few weeks, you had also been taking it slow. “For gifts.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow as he sits up a little straighter in bed. “Gifts? It’s five in the morning, I promise Becca and my mom are in such deep sleep we couldn’t wake them if we tried.”

Kind of what I’m banking on, you think. “No. I mean.. Our gifts, for each other.” You explain in a soft voice, before reaching over to pick up the small box you had left sitting on the nightstand. “I didn’t want to give you this in front of your family and I don’t think I can wait.” You admit a little sheepishly.

Bucky looks down at the box with a soft smile. “Just let me get one of your gifts.” He sits it down on the comforter before crawling out of the bed and moving to his suitcase. He picks up a small box, wrapped in the same gift paper his is because he had stolen your roll, and smiles up at you.

He hands it over and the two of you just stare at each other with bright, happy smiles before tearing into the wrapping paper at the same time. Your mouth drops open in shock when you open the box.

A bracelet is staring back at you. A silver band filled with charms that make you smile as you run your fingertips over each one. Your alma mater’s mascot. The Brooklyn Bridge. A bottle of wine. “Buck...” You trail off in awe. “This is beautiful.”

“Sweets.” He says the nickname gently and you look up to watch him pull the watch out of the box with a small smile. “This is...” He flips it over in his hand and his eyes widen when he notices the engraving on the back.

the best lovers start as friends.

“I love you.” He runs a finger of the engraved metal as you whisper softly, “I... I’ve loved you for so long, Buck, and having your love in return is unlike anything I could have imagined.”

Bucky drops the watch on the bed between you as he reaches across to pull you into a bruising kiss. You drop your own gift onto the bed and reach up to rest a hand on his chest.

“I love you.” Bucky pulls away to whisper the words. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He punctuates each sentence with a kiss to your skin. You giggle softly as he moves towards you and his hand settles on your waist.

“I have something else for you.” You pull away to remove the bracelet and watch from the bed. Bucky watches as you move so you’re on your knees with intrigued eyes. You smile coyly as you move to pull his shirt over your head.

Bucky lets out a low moan as his eyes trail over your body, covered in dark green lace. “What’s this?” His fingers come up to trace over the lace and leave goosebumps in their wake.

“Your second gift.” You murmur breathlessly as he fingers drift lower and lower. Bucky smirks as he leans towards you and presses a kiss to your neck, then across your collar bone until he’s trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts.

He pulls away after a moment and looks up at you questioningly. “Are you sure?”

You smile down at him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I wouldn’t have dropped this much money on lingerie if I wasn’t sure.” His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he pulls your body flush against his.

“What did I do to deserve a gift like this?” He looks up at you with a bright smile. You run a hand through his hair. “Love me.” You answer genuinely. Red dusts Bucky’s cheeks at your words as you lean in to kiss him.

You shift so you’re straddling Bucky’s lap. “Gonna fuck me?” You murmur in question against his lips. Bucky moans against you and his hips buck up involuntarily. His hand drops from your waist to your thigh and he trails his fingertips up.

“You look so pretty, sweets.” He smirks up at you as his hand pushes the lace aside. He runs the tip of his index finger over your wet folds and you push down already wanting more from him. “Patience, sweetheart. Let me take you in. I wanna enjoy my gift.”

You moan as he begins to rub slowly against your clit. “Want you to ride my thigh first, sweets.” Bucky shifts you so your legs are straddled over his left thigh.

You moan as your clit rubs against his thigh. You pull at the waist band and his sweatpants and he helps you pull them off of his legs before situating your body back over him. “Fuck.” You let out a deep sigh as his hands land on your hips.

His eyes are dark and pupils blown as he stares at you above him. Bucky’s already hard, you can see his dick straining against his briefs. He doesn’t do more than lightly guide you by the hands on your hips, but his eyes watching you intently as you moan is enough to make your stomach twist in pleasure.

“Fuck, James.” He groans as his first name tumbles out of your mouth in a breathy moan. “You look so pretty on my thigh, sweetheart. I love watching you.”

He leans forward then, to press kisses across your breasts as you move back and forth against him. “Feels so good.” One of your hands twists in his hair and Bucky moans against your skin.

You move faster against him as you feel yourself get wetter. You moan his name like a mantra as Bucky’s hands grip you tighter and tighter.

Bucky’s hands force you to a stop. You whine at the lost of pleasure, but it’s not long before Bucky has you flipped so you’re laying on your back beneath him.

“Gonna fuck you, is that okay sweets?” He leans back to pull his shirt off and you nod hastily as your hands come up to pull at his briefs. It’s not long before you’re bare underneath him, the lace garments discarded to the floor of his bedroom.

“Gotta be quiet.” He runs his tip over you folds in a teasing manner that almost makes you moan out. Instinctively, your hips buck up with a quiet whine. His hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Don’t want Becca to hear. She’s just down the hall, sweets.”

It’s a warning and it makes heat spread through you. You’re not sure if it’s the idea that you could get caught in his childhood bedroom or the way Bucky’s voice deepens, but it makes you tired of waiting. “Please.” Your beg is muffled by his hand, but he hears it. He doesn’t wait any longer, he pushes himself all the way in and you both let out relieved moans at the feeling. “Fuck. Fuck. You always feel so good, baby.”

Your back arches into his body as he begins fucking you at a slow pace. When he seems satisfied that you won’t make too much noise, his hand moves from your mouth he rests his forearm on the pillow beside your head. “James.” It’s a whispered moan that makes his hips stutter. “Faster. Please. I’ll be quiet.” You promise, your legs wrapping around him. Bucky leans down to press a bruising kiss to your lips as he fucks into you faster. You moan into his mouth as pleasure rushes through you.

There’s something extremely intimate about the way he fucks into you, one hand holding onto your hip and another resting beside your head. It’s love, you realize when he pulls back to look at you with soft eyes. It does something to you, makes want rush through your veins and pulls the air from your lungs. “I love you.” You whisper into the space between you two, Bucky still pushing in and out of you.

“I love you.” His eyes slide shut and his head falls to nuzzle into your neck. “You look at me like that again I’m not gonna last, sweets.” He press a gentle kiss to your neck before beginning to suck harshly. You’re sure there will be a mark there tomorrow that you’ll never live down, but you can’t bring yourself to care when his tongue runs over the mark and your stomach clenches in excitement.

“Fuck. I’m so close, Bucky, please. I- I need-“ His hand is reaching between your bodies before you can spit the sentence out. His finger rubs against your clit as he quickens his pace. “Yes. Yes.” You moan, and you can immediately tell it’s too loud when Bucky freezes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You mutter, so close and desperate for him to resume his pace.

“I know, I’m close too, but we can’t wake the house up.” You throw your head back and bite down hard enough to draw blood when he resumes his movements. He’s rubbing at your already sensitive clit and fucking you quickly, it’s all too much as your stomach tightens in pleasure. “Yeah. I can feel you, baby. Come for me, please. I need to feel you.” His tone is deep and possessive in your ear.

When he slams into you hard, your orgasm washes over you. Your mouth opens in a moan that Bucky catches with a messy kiss. You can feel his hips stutter against you as he reaches his own high and releases into you.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, just breathing with each other. “Merry Christmas.” You laugh softly as Bucky pulls out and moves to grab a towel from his desk chair.

Bucky smiles as he comes to lay beside you again and wipes gently at your thighs. He pulls the comforter up so it’s wrapped around both of you again and pulls you so your head rests against his chest. “Merry Christmas.” He whispers in return.

You glance out the window and find that it’s snowing again. You’ll probably be snowed in for the next few days, but you don’t really mind, not with Bucky here and in your arms the way you’ve always wanted.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // this took weeks to finish and i truly hope whoever reads it through enjoys it!

my writing is free & will remain free. if you enjoy it and you have the resources, consider donating to my ko-fi :)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #steve rogers #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

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warmau · 3 years

Text

a sour taste makes its way down jisung's throat

he pulls the candy out of his mouth and scrunches his face up

"did this shit expire?"

renjun's lips thin, "since when have you started cursing?"

chenle harks on the grass beside the other two

"ever since he got dumped."

jisung doesn't disagree.

out of everyone to pick up on his change of habits, it'd be his best friend.

he doesn't like to admit it, but the breakup that launched the beginning of his summer has made him feel different

bitter, angry, empty

he's sure if he told someone older like his parents or a professor they'd explain that it's normal.

it's part of growing up to have to process these horrible emotions and learn to feel them less extremely.

that somehow doesn't comfort jisung at all, why is it his fault that being young makes everything feel more vivid? the shatter of the heart in his chest and all the little pieces wedged up in his veins hurt so bad.

"jisung, you'll find someone better."

renjun ties his shoelaces and gets up, he's still chewing on the taffy they brought from the corner store.

jisung follows and he's never been so awkward about his budding height more than he is now

"i doubt that, i don't think i could find anyone better than my first love."

chenle gives a depressed sounding laugh and renjun starts a spiel about how he's being dramatic and silly

the sounds gloss over in jisung's ears, he tosses the candy he'd spit out and the wrapper over his shoulder

"you shouldn't litter."

three sets of eyes turn to the voice, you stand there with your gym bag over your shoulder on a path a little way down from the grassy hill the boys are on

you look at jisung with an unwavering gaze that drops to where he assumes the candy wrapper landed

you bend down and pick it up, shake your head and walk away

jisung follows your figure through the park as renjun and chenle mutter about how you're kind of right but kind of rude

"do you know them?"

jisung asks and renjun taps the bottom of his chin

"i think ive seen them at the tennis courts."

jisung doesn't know what it is about you.

he mistakenly thinks it is dislike that breeds curiosity when he shows up at the public tennis court the next day

you're out on the court with a group of middle schoolers, showing them the right way to swing a racket

jisung leans against the shade of a tree as you go through each step slowly and then have the kids copy you one by one

when you make a sudden movement to turn in the direction he's standing, he slinks behind the trunk

this is so fucking weird, im being a creep

he doesn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, or the rest of the summer, but still he cringes at himself

i should find something better than staring at a goddamn stranger. chenle was right, im cursing way too much.

so he leaves and he doesn't come back

but he visits the park for the next week with the slight hope that your path will cross with him on accident

not that he entertains that as actual hope - just that curiosity that nips at his heel like a cat asking to be feed

on day seven it happens

jisung is staring up at the expanse of the warm blue sky and you're walking from the direction of the tennis courts, you pause to check your phone and jisung springs to his feet

he's in front of you before he really knows what to even say

you don't look as freaked out as he was scared you might, you actually just blink and then point your finger at him

looks like they've got bad habits just like me

"you're the boy who litters!"

"i don't usually litter, i was just in a bad mood that day."

"doesn't excuse throwing your garbage around."

"is that why you remembered me?"

you slip your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag and shake your head

"no, there's another reason."

jisung itches to ask why but he realizes now that this conversation is going exponentially better than it could have

you could have said something like get the hell away from me....or who are you?

"do you want to walk with me for a little bit?"

fuck, i should have just asked why - asking them to walk is weirder

"why not."

you and jisung do loops around the park - it's pretty big so by the time you're on the third loop the night lamps are coming on and the sun is slowly disappearing

you two have talked about everything and nothing at the same time

jisung asks you if you're going to be at the park tomorrow

"i teach a summer tennis course for the park three times a week, but tomorrow is my off day."

"have any plans?"

he puts his hands in his pockets because they're sweating - i should have asked if they wanted me to carry their bag while we were walking. god did getting broken up with make me so stupid too?

"are you asking me out?"

jisungs palms stick to the fabric of his pants

"i got broken up with before summer started."

he blurts out before he can take it back, you poke your tongue into your cheek

"me too."

the genuine surprise makes jisung look younger than he is and you cross your hands over your chest as if you regret sharing the information

"sorry, i have to go."

you edge around him and jisung has one million thoughts run through his brain, how he should apologize or ask for your number or suggest something that could heal you both in the snap of this one summer minute

but instead he watches you walk ahead for a whole two minutes before you turn on your heel and uncross your arms

"can you meet me here at noon?"

"tomorrow?"

jisung feels the sweat on the nape of his neck now too, matching the moistness on his palms

"no, in twenty years. yes - tomorrow."

he nods and you don't give him anything else to work with as you disappear and jisung catches the last little slither of sunlight wave goodbye with you

"are you rebounding already?"

chenle's voice comes through the headphones as jisung clicks on a zombie with his mouse and shoots it

"it's not a rebound - we both got dumped so i thought we could like...FUCK! i died dude."

chenle groans

"maybe they can help you fix this cursing problem, but uhhh it totally sounds like a rebound to me."

jisung thinks about that as he waits for you at the park

rebounding has actually never even occurred to him as a possibility.

then again falling head over heels and getting tossed aside by the person he thought was his soulmate also never occurred to him as a possibility either - especially not before he's even managed to graduate university

but using someone to feel better about himself - that just isn't him.

"oh you actually came?"

he stops staring at the grass and meets the half smile you're wearing. he matches it with a shy one of his own.

you take jisung's hand easily - as if you weren't strangers a week ago - and tug him toward the park gates

"where-"

you look over your shoulder

"we have to eat ice-cream on a date."

jisung and you have the same taste, getting the same flavor of ice cream with a hard no to sprinkles. you tell jisung about this kid you teach privately for tennis and how he's a little rich brat but his parents always tip you nicely. jisung tells you that his best friend is chenle and they met when he nearly broke an elbow on the first day of middle school.

jisung pays for your bus ticket into the busier part of the city, you beat him at a couple of arcade games, and then he absolutely crushes you at mini-basketball. you pile all your tickets together and jisung tells you to pick the prize you want.

he watches you as you scan the cheap toys and then turn to your left where a younger girl is trying to see if she has enough for a sad looking stuffed panda

you dump the tickets into her hand and grin when her whole face lights up, jisung walks out behind you and goes

"you're actually nice aren't you?"

"oh - you didn't think i was nice when we first met?"

"i-"

jisung stutters when you look directly at him

"i just mean you- it was nice what you did in the arcade."

"why did your ex break up with you?"

jisung's world sort of stops for a moment. you still haven't looked away and he gets lightheaded by the sudden question.

"i don't know."

you nod, as if the answer is what you expected, and you take his hand again and make way toward the bus

he curls his larger fingers around yours and is silently thankful you don't ask for any more details

actually you both don't say anything the ride back, even though you rest your head on his shoulder the entire time

your hands are still clasped together and jisung finds himself not wanting to let go even when you stop in front of the park again

"thanks for the date."

you unwind your fingers first and jisung swallows

"do you want to go on another one?"

you shake your head

"sorry, i don't think i can do this more than once."

genuine shock sets in on jisung's face

"w-what do you mean?"

"i know being heartbroken makes you lonely, it makes me lonely too, but i can't just be someone's summer fling and get abandoned again. plus jisung -"

you tilt your head with a small laugh

"i think you're really cute and if we do this again i will start liking you seriously."

what the fuck do i say?

jisung thinks the summer heat in the air constricts around him - especially when he can't open his mouth to answer and you give a solemn wave as you turn and start to disappear down the sidewalk

fuck fuck fuck fuck

the curses start to hurt his brain and jisung breaks into a sprint to catch you before you make it to the end of the block

slipping his hand back into yours and spinning you to face him

"im not going to abandon you. and i - i already like you so please let me take you on another date."

the words fall out like letters into alphabet soup and you stare wide-eyed at him for about a second before you lean in and kiss him

and jisung forgets the entire language he's spoken since he was a child, curses and vulgarity gone with it

the second date comes and goes, then the third, and then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

jisung watches you give tennis lessons and you even tug him onto the court one day to help with picking up the scattered balls off the court

the younger kids you teach really adore him, tall and smiley, they cling to him more than they do to you

and there really isn't any way you can stop them because soon enough you feel that urgency to be near him always too

it might be because jisung is so different from your ex, and you are so different from his

the reality is that when you finally tell each other what happened before your respective summers started

it turns out - it's almost exactly the same

jisung looks up at you as you lay across him in the tall grass of an empty corner of the parks sprawling fields, your tennis equipment abandoned and his shoes sitting beside yours in a lazy heap

"they just told me one day i wasn't enough."

you bury your face in his chest and sigh

"maybe im not, maybe something about me is still missing."

the tenor of his voice is sad and you put both hands on the grass to lift yourself up above him, you stare down into the prettiest eyes you've ever seen on a boy in your life

"shuttup park jisung. nothing is missing from you. you're enough."

he gives you a goofy smile and you want so badly to smile back and kiss him but you take the moment seriously and add

"remember when you asked me if i only remembered you because i caught you littering like weeks ago?"

the furrow of his eyebrow is enough of an answer

"i said there was another reason."

he sits up and you fall gently back against his knees and lap, jisung opens his mouth as if to ask what it was but you put your hands on both his cheeks before he can

"that reason was because i could see all of you - people tend to be shrouded in something, but it was all on your face the moment you made eye contact with me. jisung - you're the farthest person i know from being incomplete. you're you and no one else."

the weight of your words comes crashing down on you a second later and you get up off of jisung in a fit of embarrassment

even though you meant what you said it felt like something of a wedding vow than something you say someone you've been dating for only a month

but jisung just breaks into a bigger smile - he pulls you back down into a hug that gets you both covered in grass stains

"im so happy"

you smell the fabric softener on his t-shirt and suddenly wish you could slip it off of him and put it on yourself

his hands tighten around you

"i always thought the other reason was because i was ugly or something."

you scrunch up your nose and tell him to be quiet, but jisung just laughs and buries his nose in your hair

the rest of the summer is smooth and the happiest one you've had so far - and jisung, who had thought it would be hell, agrees

renjun points out that he hasn't heard jisung even utter the word 'damn' since he started dating you

and chenle cuts in that it's true - now whenever they game jisung just groans into the mic (or abandoned the game completely to fool around you with - as it is in chenle's imagination)

you notice it too, and you notice how everyday jisung grows further from the heartbreak that he had festered on for so long

and just becomes more open with you

on your last day at your summer job and what feels like the last day of summer in general, jisung picks you up with balloons

you both hand them out to the kids you worked with and keep one shaped like a big red heart tied around your wrist as you two walk through the dimming evening of the park

fall is coming, your shoulders shake and jisung pulls you closer into him, and when he stops suddenly

you see that you're in the place where you first met - when jisung had let that candy wrapper tumble down a grassy hill and you had picked it up with disdain

"is untying the balloon and letting it float off considered littering?"

he asks and you think for a second

"probably, it'll get stuck in a tree somewhere and we don't want that."

he looks down and leans in to kiss you gently, letting your lower lip sit between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away

"can we do it anyway to make the moment special?"

you look at him, eyes clear as day, and answer

"every moment is special with you."

jisung manages to get ten of those red balloons through the door of your shared apartment on your tenth anniversary

you fret about how balloons are bad for the environment, but still launch yourself at him in a big hug when he gets them all settled into your living room

he catches you, laughing as you both muse that you can't believe it has been ten years since you met

"and i haven't cursed once since then - can you believe it?"

you roll your eyes and say yeah sure, like he didn't curse when he stubbed his toe on your bed this morning

he pouts his lip and asks, "play along ok - just say i haven't cursed once."

"you haven't cursed once in the ten years we have been dating."

something twinkles in jisung's eye and you bite back your lip

"exactly - so is it ok if i curse this one time and say-"

he fishes something out of his pocket that looks like a small box, you think your breath catches in your throat

"i fuc-freaking love you - will you marry me?"

#i know this is read from jisung's perspective in the beginning but i didn't know how else to get across the like cursing thing #if i wasnt writing from his kind of vision but like the turning point shifts to the reader #anyway none of you give a fuck so ill stop talking #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #park jisung #jisung scenarios #jisung au #jisung imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #nct dream #sfw #cursing/#nostalgia

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floralseokjin · 4 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song ii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, things are heating up! the phrase ‘dilf dick’ gets thrown around way too much, RJ and taehyung cameo, hoseok, yoongi and namjoon are mentioned, as well as jungkook if you squint words; 12,169

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After Seokjin dropped you off at the station, he and Arin waving you goodbye, it would be two weeks later when you saw him again. Not that you were holding out on it or anything… No way… That would be ludicrous.

The last week of school was always hectic, activities and games top priority now that teaching had come to a standstill. The children were hyper, the teacher’s worn out, but without fail you always looked forward to the summer fate. Head of the committee every year, you and a handful of your fellow teachers organised each game, each stall and each prize. As well as wanting the children to have fun, it was also an opportunity to celebrate their achievements throughout the year with their families. There were an arrange of awards for most subjects, third through to first place for each grade, and this year you’d convinced the principal, Mr. Jung, to include a new creative writing award. It wasn’t technically a subject – you already had the spelling bee for English class, but he’d thought it was a great idea to celebrate the students’ talents in a brand new way.

Of course, there was one child you had in mind when you’d gone to him with the idea – Arin. It was only fair in your eyes, she’d been with you not even three months and hadn’t had a chance like the other kids. The other awards were spoken for but you wanted her to at least get something, just so first grade could end on a good note for her and help her look forward to September.

You were at the entrance of the fate, in casual conversation with Mrs. Jeon as well as greeting the students’ families, when you caught a glimpse of Seokjin. He was hand in hand with Arin who skipped happily beside him. He was wearing a sea green thin sweater, that blew in the light breeze, and black jeans. He was even in sneakers. Way more unbelievable than the slippers. He looked effortlessly good, and you thought you preferred him like this, casually dressed. The suits were great yes, but he looked far more attainable like this. Not that you wanted to attain him.

Damn it.

You tried your best to ignore the strange heat that had seemed to settle in your chest at the sight of him, the faintest flurry of what could only be described as butterflies aggravating your stomach. What the hell? What was wrong with you?

“Hello, Miss.” Arin grinned, giving you a small wave, and you shook yourself out of it.

“Hi, Arin,” you waved back, of course catching Seokjin’s eyes in the process.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he greeted, the hint of a smirk across his mouth. Teasing, again. Two could play at that game.

“Mr. Kim,” you replied, unable to keep a straight face – especially when you heard him laugh as he passed by you.

You watched him walk off, secretly pleased now that you knew he was here. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but you’d been hoping he’d be free to attend the fate. To see Arin receive her reward, of course – nothing else. But, okay, maybe you had spent an embarrassingly long time choosing which dress to wear last night. Not that you wanted to impress him, more like… stand out.

“Who is he?” Mrs. Jeon whispered animatedly – hopefully out of earshot and once again knocking some sense back into you.

You tried to sound casual, like you weren’t aware of Seokjin’s jaw-dropping good looks – or more so, that they didn’t affect you whatsoever. “A student’s father.”

She made a noise of disbelief. “He is just pure… sex on legs.”

“Eunbi!” You exclaimed, taken by such surprise you used her first name. She burst out laughing, something you couldn’t ignore and ended up in a fit of giggles yourself.

“Behave.” You warned, trying to compose yourself. “You’re a married woman.” You’d attended her wedding last summer, bringing along Soojung as your plus one.

“Looking is still allowed,” she replied, making you both explode into laughter once again.

You were giddy. Really, what was up with you?

The afternoon was a success, the children and their families enjoying immensely, as well as the teachers. It was your job to announce the creative writing reward and it was so heart-warming to see how happy it made Arin to come first place. She held her little trophy and movie theatre vouchers proudly for the camera, Seokjin looking just as over the moon as her. Mr. Jung convinced him to join for a few snaps and you looked on with a polite smile. Other than earlier and a thank you as you passed the prize to Arin, those had been your only interactions with Seokjin for the day and now the fate was drawing to a close. You wouldn’t say you were disappointed, because that would be preposterous, but if those were going to be your only exchanges then it made the times he’d fleeted into your mind these past couple of weeks highly embarrassing…

It wasn’t as if you wanted to think about him, he just kept popping up. First you blamed Soojung, who wouldn’t shut up about Mr. Dilf for a few days after the exchange at his house (mansion), but soon the topic bored her, no new developments to keep her hooked. You on the other hand found yourself imagining instances where you’d bump into one another again. You know, happenstances… Like if he had the time to drop Arin off at school, although you doubted he’d end up in the staff parking lot again… You’d had a good giggle to yourself remembering his face when he’d realised.

Other incidents were less realistic, like maybe he’d drop off a thank you present the students liked to gift to say goodbye, or maybe you’d bump into him at the grocery store, the park – highly improbable, but you found yourself thinking all these things when you were procrastinating or trying to get to sleep.

Even now as you tried to win a prize at the Ring Toss stall – don’t ask how much money you’d already spent – (obviously using your free time wisely before you were needed again), you found yourself disappointed that things hadn’t worked out quite like you’d imagined today. You were being stupid. The guy was supposed to annoy the heck out of you, yet here you were unable to stop thinking about him. It had been a long time since a man had gotten you this distracted. A really long time…

“Can I help?”

You jumped at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, granted you were in deep concentration, about to launch the hoop, but you felt like you’d been caught doing something wrong. As if he knew you’d been thinking about him, caught you in the act. You whipped your head up, forcing yourself to relax and smile.

“I’ve been watching you try to win for the past ten minutes.” He chuckled. Great. How embarrassing. He stepped closer. “What do you have your eyes so set on?”

Oh, god. Even more embarrassing. You had a split second to make a decision. Be truthful or lie and choose something else. You know what, who cared? You were thirty and still loved stuffed animals. It wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“The alpaca.” You pointed to the white fluffy animal sat on the top shelf. With his cute round face and a red scarf wrapped around his neck, he was adorable and you really wanted him.

Seokjin wasn’t fazed at all. “He’s cute. I’ll try but don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

You nodded and handed him the hoops. He needed to loop all three around the skittles. You watched him with anticipation, thinking to yourself this definitely wasn’t one of your fantasies, but you liked it regardless. Liked it even better when Seokjin managed to win.

“Thank you, Seokjin,” you smiled, his name still feeling strange to say aloud. The man in charge of the game passed you your new ‘pet’ and you held it fondly, unable to stop yourself. Your landlord didn’t allow animals so you’d had to improvise over the years. You’d never had an alpaca before, but you were sure he’d fit right in.

“No problem, I’m glad I could be of service.” He chuckled.

There was a silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable but it was new. You were so used to Seokjin joking about you were expecting him to take the lead. Today he was quiet, actually right now he looked pretty awkward.

You opened your mouth to ask him how he was when you suddenly realised something. How stupid of you. You’d been so distracted by the stuffed animal you hadn’t realised a little certain someone was missing. “Where’s Arin?”

“She’s playing with a friend and their family.” You watched him scratch the back of his neck, looking at you, but not really making eye contact. “Y/N, do you maybe want to take a walk? We could find some where to sit and talk?”

“About what?” You could’ve kicked yourself. Why did you have to ask that? You were just a little dazed from hearing him say your name again.

“Uh, just about Arin really.”

You didn’t really know what you’d been expecting so any answer would’ve surprised you, but you nodded, taking him up on the offer. “Okay.”

You knew a bench away from the fate but still on school grounds, and you walked side by side, noticing just how tall and broad he was. His shoulders looked unbelievable in that sweater, and it hugged his chest perfectly when the light breeze of the afternoon hit him, his well-built chest visible. Not that you were staring or anything, you just happened to notice…

You small talked along the way. Not much, mostly about the fate, but it was enough for you to hit your destination without any awkward silence. You wracked your brains as you sat, wondering what he had to say about Arin. Maybe he wanted to discuss her stories more, thank you for the prize she’d won. What you did know though, was that his cologne really did smell amazing. It was woody, maybe spicy, and just plain addicting. This close proximity was wreaking havoc with you again. You sat the alpaca between you both on bench, acting as a barrier for your sanity.

Seokjin patted its head absentmindedly before he side-eyed you, that amused smile you’d become familiar with upturning the corners of his mouth. “You seem a lot less scrappy today.”

You raised both eyebrows, thrown for a moment. “Scrappy?”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “a lot less intimidating.”

You? Intimidating? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? The sheer power of Seokjin’s brow line alone could bring a person to quivering knees, and that wasn’t mentioning the obvious, like you know, his face. However, he seemed genuine enough. You didn’t really consider yourself feisty, but then again, when pushed to your limits maybe something just snapped inside of you. You had powers you weren’t aware of, obviously. Better own them then…

You gave a small shrug, smirking slightly. “Maybe I’ve chosen to forgive and forget.”

He chuckled again, genuinely amused, but you sensed some reluctance his end, a slight awkwardness. Was he stalling? You suddenly grew a little nervous. The dynamics you’d grown somewhat used to during your last few encounters had shifted without you knowing. Seokjin was a lot less teasing today. How come?

“So,” you pressed carefully, unable to handle the anticipation. “What was it you wanted to say?”

He lifted his head up, warm eyes meeting yours and your insides did that flurrying thing again. Your imagination hadn’t concocted this. When he smiled you realised how kind it was – how kind it could be when he wasn’t being infuriating. “I just want to thank you.”

Your eyes widened before you could control the surprise. “Thank me?”

He nodded, relaxing a little now, pressing his back into the bench. “For being such an amazing teacher to Arin these past couple of months.”

Of course, Arin. That’s what he’d said in the beginning, right? He wanted to sit and talk about Arin.

“That’s really no problem,” you smiled. It was your job after all. Yes, teachers liked being appreciated for their hard work, but personally, praise sent you a little red in the face.

You didn’t know if he heard you, already continuing, as if he’d rehearsed what he wanted to say. “It’s been really hard on her, the change – you know, uprooting the life she knew to come and live with me. New school, making new friends. She was incredibly worried, but you made it so much easier for her.”

Looking at you again, sounding so genuine, you found yourself freezing. You stumbled a little over your words before managing to come up with something functional. “Of course, it’s my job to make every student comfortable in my class.” You were sure any teacher would’ve treated her with the same kindness and care. But, yes, truthfully you had become very fond of her in such a short time. You wanted him to know that in a roundabout way. “I’ll miss her come September.”

He gave you an appreciative smile. “She’ll miss you too.”

Serious Seokjin always threw you. Maybe it was because you had to accept that you’d misjudged him completely. He wasn’t the rich pompous jerk you’d first thought the morning he’d hit your car. You had to admit that like this he impressed and intrigued you. It was why you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him these past two weeks. Which was stupid because you doubted he was doing the same.

“Thanks for choosing her to win that writing competition, by the way.” His voice brought you back to Earth, concentrating on him again to find that mischievous grin all over his face. “Even if you didn’t like the way it ended.”

You scoffed. Was he ever going to drop that? He knew that wasn’t the case. He’d asked for the damn pointer himself. “Well, if Lewis Carroll did it.”

“Kim Arin can too?” He finished, both of you instantly laughing. Once it petered off, he tilted his head to the side, gazing at you almost. It made you fidget a little, getting flustered. “She’s really fond of you. I meant what I said at the parent-teacher meeting.”

God, you really were horrendous at taking compliments. Especially from a man that already made you feel funny.

“She’s always speaking about how kind and lovely you are.” A pause. "...How pretty you are.” You froze. He hesitated, contemplating something in his head it seemed. He looked you straight in the eyes and said casually, “I have to admit, I agree."

Oh. What?! You felt heat begin to travel up your face, your cheeks burning and you prayed it wasn't visible. You didn't know what to reply, but thankfully (perhaps) Seokjin simply carried on, hopefully oblivious to your awkward reaction. You should bypass it too. It probably didn't mean anything. He was just being polite, right?

“Realising it was your car I hit made me feel even guiltier." He shook his head regretfully. "I really am sorry for all that. The damage, stealing your car."

"It's fine, Seokjin." He hadn’t really stolen your car, you’d been extremely overdramatic there. He'd apologised enough already. You were over it. You had two days left of school, the summer all yours, your mood was much better. Let bygones be bygones.

“Yeah but, I should’ve never gotten your car towed. I realise I was out of line. You said you didn’t want my help but I didn’t listen."

You nodded, listening to him, aware he needed to say this. Again, it seemed as if he'd rehearsed it almost, or maybe it was the professional in him. You were too damn stubborn so he wasn't all to blame. You smiled appreciatively, fighting your hand's strange urge to pat his shoulder. It was maybe best that you didn't touch him. Instead you gave a teasing grin. “But you still won’t let me pay you back?”

He whined – or at least that's the only way you could describe it. It tugged at something inside your chest. Maybe it was more like a wail. Less cute. He couldn't believe you were back on that.

"I'm just messing around," you laughed, trying to compose yourself to let him know something too. “While we're on apologies... I'm sorry for being so short with you annnd for calling you a car thief."

He chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair. Oh, it was pushed back above his forehead again today. You hadn't noticed, too distracted by what? His sneakers? The outfit as a whole? His face? “I deserved it, let’s be honest."

"Maybe in the beginning," you admitted carefully, causing him to laugh harder.

“I was way too preoccupied when I hit you. With work and promising Arin I’d drop her off at school – because shamefully I’d never done it before." He turned a little pensive at that, lost in his own thoughts.

“You must be really busy," you said, voice soft. There was no way he could do it all. Work seemingly six days a week and still try to be there for Arin 24/7.

He looked across at you, an eyebrow quirking slightly. What was he surprised by? That you were sympathising with him? He nodded slowly. “It’s just hard learning to juggle everything. Don’t get me wrong, I love having her with me every day, but...”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon.” You wanted to say it would be summer break soon enough, but then on second thoughts, maybe that would make things even harder.

“Yeah, maybe,” he shrugged, changing the subject back to you. “Besides, me being busy doesn’t really excuse the fact I hit you. I mean, what if god forbid you’d been walking past my car instead, it doesn’t bear thinking about.” He looked beside himself at just the idea.

“But I wasn’t,” you reminded him, “so it’s perfectly okay.”

“You’re right,” he murmured, giving you a small smile that rounded his cheeks.

There was silence then, where you waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Was that all he’d wanted to talk about? To thank you for being a kind teacher to Arin and to say sorry once again for the car debacle? For some reason you felt eager to keep the conversation going. It was an urge deep inside you that acted on its own accord.

“So, what do you do?” You asked, trying your best to sound casual. Not that you weren’t casual. You just didn’t want to make it seem like you were desperate for small talk. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Again, he looked vaguely surprised. What, that you were interested in him? No, that was phrased wrong. That you were interested. He didn’t meet your eyes as he replied. “I, uh, I’m the CEO of LG. I took over from my father about three years ago.”

You swore your eyes bugged out of their sockets you were so overcome with shock. You were glad he wasn’t looking at you as you tried to pull it together. “The LG?”

Like one of the biggest companies in the country LG? He was way too young surely? Weren’t those type of CEOs old and round looking?

Seokjin chuckled, finally looking you in the eyes. “Unless you know another one.”

You were speechless, well aware you needed to actually say something in reply instead of gawping but what? What could you say to that? “I guess that explains why you’re always so busy then.”

God, why? Of all the things, why that? Well done for stating the obvious, Y/N.

Seokjin gave you a modest smile. “It’s difficult, yes. Trying to manage work and being effectively a single dad, but I really am trying.” He shook his head slightly, as if he was telling himself off. “I missed her so much these past couple of years, so to finally have her living with me is a dream come true. I’m trying to be the best father I can but I guess it’s a work in progress.”

You weren’t expecting him to be this open with you at all. But maybe Soojung wouldn’t be so surprised. She and a bunch of your other friends, even acquittances said that you were easy to confide in. That you listened well and didn’t try to solve everything. You didn’t know how true that was but you didn’t mind listening to him right now. Sometimes confiding in a stranger just worked.

“Arin obviously adores you.” You smiled. “I could see that the day I dropped your car back.”

He gave you a tiny smile of thanks but sighed softly. “I just want her to always be happy. I know coming from a broken home may make that statement hypocritical but…”

“Not at all,” you insisted. “If a relationship isn’t working out then you need to do what’s best for your child, and you.” That was important too. “I mean, my parents divorced when I was quite young and I have a million and one happy memories growing up.”

You grew a little self-conscious, thinking that you were oversharing, but he seemed happy to hear it, perking up a little. “Really?”

“Yep. They beat the ones I have of them yelling at one another.”

He gave a bitter chuckle then, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. It’s just…” He paused and you wondered if he was going to carry on. Was it bad that you felt curious? You liked seeing this side of Seokjin, it wasn’t how your fantasies had gone at all, it was better. Things had taken an unexpected turn but it just seemed to fit. It seemed natural. It felt nice to talk to him like this. Suddenly you didn’t seem so different. Despite the contrasts in your job and lifestyle, they weren’t very apparent here on this bench…

“My ex-wife is… she lives a busy life – even busier than mine. But she loves it. She goes looking for it.” Seokjin explained. You listened politely. “That’s why Arin had to start living with me, and even though I’m pulled thin, I still try to make enough time for my daughter, no matter the day, no matter the time, no matter anything. Nana doesn’t…”

Nana? That was her name. You imagined someone slim and beautiful, it was only fitting seeing as Seokjin was the man she was married to once upon a time. Beauty attracted beauty.

“Is that why you divorced?” Okay, maybe you were prying now. You hoped he didn’t find it rude.

He didn’t. “There were a lot of reasons,” he answered honestly. “It was as much my fault as it was hers. We were going in different directions and had fallen out of love. It’s been a while now, nearly two years, I’m fine.” He met your eyes at the last part, as if he wanted you to understand that. Or maybe you were reading it wrong. Why would he want you to know that?

“Does she live far?” You remembered Arin’s disappointment that weekend when her mom had cancelled their plans. Maybe she lived a while away and it was hard to commute with Arin back and forth.

“No, just in the next city. It’s not far at all. She’s really high up in an accounting firm there. That’s why when we divorced I moved closer to my building here. See, that’s what annoys me the most,” Seokjin scoffed, an edge to his voice now. Oh shoot, you’d made a mistake with that question. “It’s really no distance at all, so why can’t she spare one single day for Arin?”

You made a sympathetic face, unsure what to say. You decided on honesty. “I’m sorry, I can’t even begin to imagine how all that feels.”

Break-ups and divorces were hard yes, but when a child was stuck in the middle a tonne of other complications arose. As a teacher you understood that very well, but as a long-time single woman, maybe not. It had been a while since you’d opened your heart to someone, your life taking a very different turn to what you’d expected three years ago. Not that you minded, you liked where you were heading right now, comfortable and at ease. There was nothing missing. You had your friends and family and that was enough. You hoped Seokjin had people around him too.

“No, I’m the one that should apologise,” he said suddenly, face tinged with colour, as if he was embarrassed. “I’m offloading onto you, that isn’t fair.”

“I don’t mind.” Honestly, you didn’t at all. It wasn’t even offloading, more so a conversation. You were getting to know him.

“You’re just so easy to talk to and I got a bit caught off guard when you started asking about me.” He admitted, his warm eyes finding yours.

Oh. So now you knew for definite he was indeed surprised by all your questions. When was the last time he’d spoken about all that stuff relating his ex-wife? Had he ever spoken about it at all?

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you today.”

His words caught your attention, interrupting your thoughts and in the process confusing you greatly. You raised a questioning eyebrow. What did he mean?

“When I asked you to take a walk I did want to thank you for being so kind to Arin and to apologise for the car trouble, but there was also something else…” You waited patiently, heart thudding quite roughly against your chest for some reason. He looked nervous again. Nervous and awkward just like earlier, before you’d distracted him.

He chose a new direction. One that left you a little dazed. “Y/N, would I be crossing the line if I said I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately?” His dark brown eyes searched for any reaction across your face.

“Me?” You asked quietly.

He chuckled bashfully. “Yeah.”

Somehow you found your voice. Well, some of it anyway. “No, it’s not crossing the line.” You wanted to tell him just the same. How he’d slipped into your mind at random times of the day and how you’d secretly been holding out on another meeting. How you’d been anticipating today. But none of that came in your stunned state. Seokjin had been thinking about you? The annoying, exasperating so-and-so hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you?

He instantly looked relieved – and pleased – at your answer. “I’m glad.” A pause as he hesitated. “Do you maybe want to… go out for dinner this Saturday?” He sounded hopeful, adding quickly, “with me, obviously.”

You would’ve giggled at that but nothing was working. You needed to process his question. He was asking you for dinner?

“My way of apologising for everything, my treat…” You guessed he felt the need to explain now, a little panicked by your reaction (or no reaction.) “For hitting your car and towing it away without your permission.”

You laughed then. Just like that your shock dispersing. He was so oblivious it hurt, and now you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He really was that unaware. “So you want to spend more of your money on me?”

You weren’t mad, of course. He knew that, laughing too as he weighed up your reply. “I see the problem.” You snickered, your gaze intimately locking with his in the process. “So, what do you say?” He murmured. “I mean, it’s for a plethora of things really. The car business, all you’ve done for Arin. One massive thank you.”

Oh. You were getting mixed messages here. Was this an apology dinner, a thank you dinner? Or something more? Maybe he read the questioning in your eyes because he was rushing to say more. “As well as just wanting to enjoy your company. I feel like I talked too much about myself today, I’d like to get to know you too…”

Okay, now this sounded awfully like a date… And that word freaked you out. Had you not just been thinking about how happily single you’d been for three years and how all you needed were your friends and family? But honestly, you were getting ahead of yourself. It was one dinner. There was no way to predict the outcome and you shouldn’t even be thinking that far ahead. Sometimes you didn’t need to think. You needed to remember that. Sometimes it was just good to act in the moment. Take cautious to the wind and accept this incredibly handsome man’s dinner invitation, whatever his intention was.

You smiled. “Dinner sounds lovely.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened a tad, surprise visible and he didn’t try to hide it. “Really?” You laughed and nodded. Really you should be the one still shocked, because despite everything – the misjudgements, the attitude, the way you’d been itching for numerous fights with him, it was a wonder why he still wanted to be anywhere near you. …Maybe he liked that… Maybe he liked you? Or were you absolutely barking mad?

“Can I have your number to arrange everything?”

You went to relay it to him, watching him pull his phone from out his front jean pocket but then remembered something. “Oh, I already have yours, should I just text you?”

“That’s my work phone. Maybe we should swap personal phone numbers?”

You mean, you only had one phone, but it made sense why he had two. You were still stuck on the personal part though. A little dazed (and excited) as he saved your number into his phonebook. Your phone was locked up in your classroom, so you couldn’t take his but no matter, you’d just save it once he messaged you.

Seokjin glanced at his watch – an expensive looking thing, but that was really no surprise now – and hummed. “We should head back, the fate will be finishing soon.”

You made more small talk as you walked back, Seokjin wondering if you had any allergies or a special diet so he could bear it in mind when he chose a restaurant. Luckily for you no, but you found out that he was allergic to garlic and potatoes, which seemed ridiculous and highly unfair. But he did admit that he ignored it sometimes, which resulted in disaster often because garlic made him itch like crazy. You had a good laugh over that.

“So, what are you going to name him?” Seokjin asked, stroking the top of your alpaca’s head who was hooked against your hip as you walked.

“Hm. I don’t know.” You shrugged, turning to him. “You decide? You did win him after all.”

“Hmmm,” he thought aloud. A few seconds later he came up with something. “How about RJ?”

“RJ?”

Seokjin chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

Smiling, you had to agree. “Yeah, it is.” You held the stuffed animal up in front of you, tilting your head to the side. “RJ the alpaca. Perfect.”

Still walking as you spoke, you felt Seokjin move in, hovering his hand behind the small of your back in case you stumbled, your attention elsewhere. You felt the same warmth you had the day he’d called you by your name for the first time…

Of course you had to tell Soojung about the events of the day. It wasn't as if you could keep it a secret – and it wasn't as if you wanted to, you just knew what would happen... She was like a dog with a bone, unable to give it up, making you recall every minute detail down to the socks he was wearing (black, by the way, to match his jeans. You had indeed noticed).

“He’s so smart. He waits until you’re not this kid’s teacher anymore and then BAM, do you want to go on a date?”

“Soojung, it’s not a date," you sighed. “He’s just…being nice."

You were still reluctant to call it a date, because well, he hadn't used the word himself. You didn't want to get your hopes up. Although you would never admit that to her, you knew she understood, in her own roundabout way.

“Being nice?!” She exclaimed, scoffing absurdly loud.

You shrugged. “Yeah, thanking me."

She spluttered, as if she found you terribly naive. “What, thanks for being kind to my daughter? SHUT UP, it’s your job! No, he wants to give you that Dilf dick!"

“Oh, my god. Soojung!” You hushed, immediately feeling your face burn. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind because it was so unbelievable.

Saturday was not that long away, the last two days of school flew by, and whilst you were emotional, your mind was also a little too preoccupied with the weekend and what it all meant. Gradually, you’d finally had to admit to yourself that this was probably, most definitely a date. The word sent a fear through your body like no other. Despite being single for three years, you had been on a few first dates in that time, and obviously they had never led to anything. In fact, it had been over a year since your last and that's when you had sworn off dating altogether.

Min Yoongi. That was the last guy you'd said yes too. A fifth grade teacher at Primrose Hill up until last September. (That had nothing to do with you, by the way, he'd just moved cities last summer to pursue a different career. The date hadn't been that bad...) He was easy on the eye and funny, although maybe a little too sarcastic at times, so much so, you hadn't been able to pick up on the signals until he was cornering you in the staff room and asking you to watch a movie with him that coming weekend. Being both teachers, you'd assumed you'd hit it off straight away, but that wasn't the case. It turned out that Yoongi pretty much hated his job, only there for the extended vacations. That was perfectly fine, you guessed, but you realised that a man like that wasn't for you. How could you both love and hate the same job? It just wasn't feasible.

You didn't miss dating, mostly because you hadn't been that into the idea anyway. But now? Now that the idea had presented itself again? After the most peculiar string of events, you had suddenly found yourself being asked out for dinner by the man who had hit your car, and you were… excited. For the first time in forever, you were excited for a date.

You hadn’t felt like this since –

Since Donghae.

Even thinking his name turned your heart heavy. Not as bad as the original heartbreak three years ago, but the memory was still enough to dampen your mood, if even for a moment. You'd met one another during your last year of college and had stayed together for the next five years. He'd been your forever man, the one you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with – he had proposed to you on your 26th birthday after all... Only, being his fiancé hadn't lasted. Since months later he confessed to cheating on you – repeatedly with a girl that worked in the Starbucks near his work building. It had been the pressure of settling down, that's what he'd told you. He was still young, had been very young when you'd gotten together in college and he wanted to experience life properly. His friends were out clubbing every weekend while he stayed inside playing boardgames with you and your friends. Your friends, as if they weren't his too, as if you all hadn't been joined at the hip in college...

Your life had pretty much crumbled after that. Everything you'd known had been ripped from under your feet and you had no idea what to do or where to go. One day you had been someone's wife-to-be and the next you were a lonely, broken human. You moved in with Soojung, had to take a month off work because you couldn't function properly, and slowly had to learn how to live your life without the love of your life.

It took a while, but gradually you got there. You and Soojung found a new, bigger place to live – where you still lived now – and you found ways to stop thinking about him, went on weekend vacations and started new hobbies. It took just over a year to feel yourself again but dating never seemed right.

Soojung slowly encouraged you to try it out, but the handful that happened in that twelve month period just felt forced – even the one with Yoongi, which had pretty much happened organically (as in, Soojung hadn't set it up…), felt like it was missing something. In a way you knew you were comparing everyone to Donghae, you couldn't help it. You couldn't imagine potentially falling in love with someone else again. He was all you'd known for so long, and once upon a time your relationship had been amazing. He'd been amazing. Getting out of that mindset had been difficult, but there had been an even more difficult one... One you were still struggling with now. The issue of opening up your heart again.

Truthfully, that's why you’d stayed single for so long. Why you'd given up on dating and didn't want to know. The thought of you meeting and falling for someone only to inevitably get hurt again terrified you. You wouldn't say you had trust issues, you knew not every man was like Donghae, but just imagining your world crumbling like it had three years ago was enough to just give up.

It wasn't like you were unhappy though. You’d meant all that stuff about liking where your life was heading. You had your friends and family and a job you loved. Your life was fulfilling, there was nothing missing. But maybe that’s what you’d needed to realise… Life worked in mysterious ways. Once you were happy and content maybe it was finally time to open up your heart again.

The truth was, you were very, very attracted to Seokjin. You felt something, even when you wanted to poke his eyeballs out for being so annoying. Actually, thinking about it, maybe that’s why you’d been so scrappy, your mind was fighting with your heart… Despite the obvious differences between you both, you oddly weren’t fazed by that right now. Seokjin didn’t seem unrelatable in that sense. Yes, your lives were crazy different, but there was something between you. You were sure of it. The way he’d opened up to you on that bench, the way he’d smiled at you, and even the way he’d teased you. It had to mean something.

Sometimes it was okay to trust your heart. That warm feeling weaving its way through your chest… Sometimes it was okay to be a little exposed. Not everyone was out to get you.

What was the worst that could happen? The dinner never led to anything else? That would be okay, you’d get over it. But what if it did lead to something more…?

You deserved to find out, right?

Saturday morning you received a text from Seokjin. You were eating breakfast at the small table you had set up in the kitchen alongside Soojung. She had only just woken up and was still a little bleary eyed but still managed to instantly perk up at the mention of Seokjin. She demanded to see his message straight away.

Unknown (9:32am) Hi Y/N, It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up. Regards, Seokjin

She squealed. “This guy writes his texts like they’re emails. You just know he’s going to be a good lay.”

“Soojung,” you groaned. She would not shut up about Dilf dick this and Dilf dick that. “What does that even mean?”

“He’s a CEO,” she said simply, eyes wide as if that explained everything. “Of one of this country’s biggest companies. That’s like some type of erotic novel shit.”

You groaned loudly, dropping your head into your hands, but she still continued – sadly.

“But none of that creepy Fifty Shades of Grey stuff. This guy is a real gentleman. Like he puts your pleasure above all else. I think he’d be really good at going down on a woman.”

By this point, you’d stopped feeling flustered by her insane claims. They were just normal now. She was unbelievable. Why was she even thinking of these things and where did she come up with them? You didn’t want to think of Seokjin like that because you really wanted to keep your sanity for tonight. Plus, no way were you ready for something like that yet. You hoped Seokjin wasn’t anticipating something more. You were sure he wasn’t, you hadn’t gotten those vibes. Soojung was just being dumb.

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t half talk some shit.”

You wanted her to point out how cute his text was instead. Like how he’d said he was Arin’s father, you know, just in case you’d forgotten who he was in two days, but no, she was too caught up on potential erotic novel titles.

You slipped to the side with a start when Soojung nudged your shoulder, getting all up into your personal space as she teased you. “I’m right though, huh?”

You pushed her back. “This is just a dinner. Not the start of an erotic novel.”

She shrugged. “I’d read it.”

“What would you read?”

Taehyung’s voice appeared from the doorway and you both looked up to see him leaning against it, eyes still pretty much glued shut, his thick hair pulled all ways.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Soojung greeted, standing up to make her way towards him. You watched her wrap her arms around his middle, nuzzling into him. She’d only left him in bed not half an hour ago. Seeing your best friend in love was odd but nice. You weren’t used to sappy Soojung, but you had to admit it suited her well. They were cute together.

Taehyung wrapped one arm around his girlfriend and lifted the other to his face, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “What are you guys yelling about down here? You woke me up.”

“Y/N’s date tonight,”

“Oh, Mr. Dilf?” He sniggered, perking up.

Soojung screeched and joined in. “CEO Dilf dick.”

“You told him?!” You whined, standing to dump your bowl in the sink.

“Of course.” Taehyung smiled smugly. “She tells me everything. Don’t you, babe?”

“Yep.” She grinned. You watched in minor amusement as Taehyung leant down to peck her mouth, Soojung gagging loudly. “Your breath stinks.”

You replied to Seokjin promptly – well as soon as Soojung and Taehyung had vacated the kitchen – and not long after that he messaged back with the restaurant details, asking if it was okay to pick you up at 7pm. You sent him your address, almost immediately freaking out. You knew his wealth hadn't fazed you that bad, seeing as he was so easy to talk to, but your place and his place were on different planes of existence. You knew it wouldn't bother him, he wasn't like that, you knew that now, but you were still a little self-conscious. It was probably the nerves regarding today. The reality was setting it. The slight doubt…

Soojung wasn't helping.

“There’s steaks on the menu that are more than our rent a week," she awed, looking down at her phone.

Why had you given her the name of the restaurant again? You would never learn your lesson. She had already googled his name when you’d told her he was the CEO of LG and she had been this close to searching his net worth before you’d stopped her. You didn’t want to know, not only was it incredibly invasive, it made you feel slightly faint. Seeing his image pop up online was enough for you . A professional headshot, he smiled kindly into the camera lens. It was crazy to think that it was the man you’d be going to dinner with.

Soojung would be good for one thing though – helping you decide on an outfit for tonight. Taehyung had gone home a couple of hours ago, needed at the bar he owned so she had nothing else better to do. Not that she was listening to you though…

She shrugged. “What did I expect? This dude is a billionaire."

“He’s not."

Billionaire seemed a lot more intimidating than a millionaire, but in reality what was the difference? He was unbelievably rich and you were just... you. You shook your head, attempting to claw yourself out of the anxiety hole you'd found yourself in. His job didn't matter. The restaurant he'd chosen didn't matter. You were going for dinner with him to enjoy his company and get to know him better. The finer details were irrelevant.

“Come on! If not he must be a multi-multimillionaire." She rationalised. "His dad is the billionaire."

You groaned. "Will you stop making me nervous and help me pick something to wear?"

You decided on the midi dress you'd actually worn to Eunbi's wedding last summer. It was the only fancy thing you had – or at least fancy enough to dine at a restaurant that sold insane dollar steaks. But wait, the restaurant wasn't supposed to matter, remember?

You still wanted to look nice though. The dress was modest in itself but maybe the colour was a bit eye-catching – a deep red. Soojung said it was perfect and you'd knock his Dilf socks off. By now you were getting sick of the word. You told her as much.

"What if I don't want to sleep with him?"

"As if." She scoffed. "Your dry spell has gone on far too long. You deserve this." She caught the look of apprehension on your face. "When you're ready of course."

"Don't make me –”

"Nervous, I know" she finished for you, sighing loudly. "There's no need to be. Mr. Dilf is whipped for you, I just know it."

How did she know? She hadn't even met him, but you appreciated the sentiment. You did not appreciate it when she was being a clever bitch though.

"I'm just trying to work this out." She said, watching you apply your mascara in the bathroom mirror. It was much later in the day now, about forty minutes before Seokjin was due to pick you up. You were dressed, hair up, makeup nearly done, and sick to your stomach with anticipation. You hummed, letting her know you'd heard her and to continue.

"You were mad when Dilf spent money on your car but you're okay with him spending mad money on you at this restaurant?"

"Soojung," you warned, staring at her reflection in the glass.

She held her hands up in apology. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just curious. Is it okay when it's food?"

You sighed. You knew it didn't really make sense, you guessed, but well, you'd said yes to the dinner. You hadn't said yes to the car being repaired. That was the difference.

"I'm not going to order the most expensive thing on the menu."

"Well, don't just order a side salad, he'll think you're weird..."

You simply stared at her. Her input was so appreciated.

“He’s here, oh my god, he’s here!” Soojung screamed, spying through the voile curtains in the living room. "Ten minutes early. I love that."

“Soojung, move away, now." You told her sternly.

“The fucking car–” She cut herself with a muffled sound. As if she was trying to stifle her own screams. You guessed he'd gotten out of said car. “What the fuck, what the fuck, he’s SO hot. I’m going to pass out."

“Soojung!" Dropping your phone into your purse you slipped on your heels, nearly tripping over in the process. You gripped onto the back of the couch just in time. "I swear to god if he sees you."

She spun around, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You never said he was that hot."

You shrugged. "You never asked."

"I asked every goddamn second of the day. You lucky bitch." She walked towards you, fixing a piece of your hair that had fallen into your eyes. “How come you get hot billionaire Dilf and I get the man-child whose special talent is making cocktails."

"Shut up," you scoffed. She loved Taehyung and his cocktail making skills. That's how they'd met after all. She drunk at the bar three days a week for a month straight until he asked her out.

The doorbell rung and you froze, remembering how nervous you were. Soojung's antics had distracted you for a while but now reality was setting in. As you turned to leave she tapped your ass. “Get that Dilf dick, girl!”

"Soojung, I swear to god –”

"I won't wait up."

Ha. As if. She'd be glued to that window until Seokjin dropped you off back home. You knew her all too well, you'd been best friends for over ten years.

In the entryway now, you didn't have time for breathing exercises. Although, you wished you'd had once you opened the door to see Seokjin stood there looking devastating handsome.

“Hi," he smiled, eyes lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey," you managed to squeeze out, cemented to the ground.

He was dressed in a double breasted navy two piece that must have been tailored to fit his body down to the millimetre, a crisp white dress shirt on underneath. His hair looked shorter, falling just above is eyebrows and parted slightly in the middle. He looked good enough to eat. Or good enough to make you pass out. Either one.

“You look beautiful," he awed, rendering you pretty speechless.

This was a date. It really was a date.

"Thank you," you managed to reply, needing to return the compliment. But what could you possibly say?! “You look…really good."

Oh god. How embarrassing.

Especially when Seokjin burst out laughing, that familiar squeak to it that you'd heard at the parent-teacher meeting. "I'll take it. Thanks." He tilted his head. "Are you ready to go? I'm a bit early, I know. Sorry about that."

You nodded, clutching your purse tight to your side. "I, uh... I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing." You raised your voice a little so she'd hear you, but on her best behaviour she stayed deathly silent. Well done, Soojung.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but you figured you'd fill him in inside the car. "It's fine," he shook his head.

Seeing you stepping forward he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to invite you to lead the way. You did, making sure not to look back towards the living room window, because you knew for a fact you'd see Soojung pressed up against it.

“This is all new for me.” Seokjin admitted, sat opposite you as you waited for your dessert. “I haven’t been on a date for years.”

To say the night had gone well would be an understatement. At first you’d been too nervous to even breathe, especially with Seokjin looking like that just a few centimetres away from you as he drove. It didn’t help that he seemed to be some type of regular at the restaurant, getting greeted as if he was an old friend of the manager and led to his ‘usual’ table; a quiet spot away from the hustle and bustle. It turned out he co-owned the place with his brother, looking mildly embarrassed as he told you. It was cute, but he had nothing to be self-conscious over, this was his life, normal to him. I hope you don’t see it as a cop-out, he confessed, causing some confusion your end. Why would you see it that way? This restaurant was beautiful, certainly popular, and you couldn’t wait to try the food. You told him as much and he laughed about feeling nervous now.

You tried lobster for the first time ever – his recommendation. It was kind of messy, but he ordered the same so you were both in it together. You laughed, you joked, you got to know one another more. Conversation came easy, both relaxed in one another’s company, and after the main you both decided to share a dessert, too stuffed for anything more.

“Snap,” you grinned, silently happy that was the case, although rather amazed. Seokjin was, well… him, who wouldn’t want to snap him up? However then again, he was a busy, divorced father. Dating probably wasn’t high up on his list. You were so distracted by his confession, you didn’t even comprehend he’d used the word ‘date.’

“Really?” Seokjin’s eyes bulged slightly. Why was he so surprised?

You shrugged casually. “It’s been well over a year since my last date.”

Seokjin’s mouth curved, amused. “Try over ten.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a competition,” you laughed, but yes, he indeed had you beat.

He laughed along, the arrival of your lemon cheesecake interrupting you both for a moment. It was a few bites later when the conversation got back on track again, Seokjin’s tone careful as he looked across at you, both of you reaching for another bit of the cheesecake with your dessert forks. “You don’t mind me calling this a date, do you? This isn’t the part where you tell me you’ve been in a relationship for five years and you just thought this was an innocent thank you dinner?”

You giggled softy, shaking your head. “No. I don’t mind you calling it a date.” You brought the fork up to your mouth, taking your time to chew before you continued. “Soojung was adamant it was but I… didn’t want get my hopes up?” You wanted to be honest. This night was about opening yourself up to the uncertain.

“Soojung, your best friend? The one you live with?” He asked.

You nodded. You’d already told him all about your best friend, about how you lived with each other. Seokjin hadn’t bat an eyelid, which was nice. You weren’t embarrassed or anything, but the differences in your living arrangements were stark. He thought it sounded fun. He still remembered living with his best friend Namjoon back in college and how entertaining that had been. He’d definitely be up for it again if they weren’t both dads now – divorced at that, but hey ho, that was life.

“Well, she was correct.” Seokjin continued. “I thought I made it clear but I guess I was too cryptic.”

“So, which one is it?” You asked, lifting an eyebrow in interest. “Not an innocent thank you dinner or not an innocent dinner?”

You were feeling brave, however your heart still thudded inside your chest, adrenaline whooshing through your veins. There was something about Seokjin that made you act so out of character…

Seokjin failed to conceal the visible surprise across his features and you watched him swallow before he composed himself, a smirk appearing on his lips immediately. “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were flirting with me right now.”

You shrugged. “I’m just checking if your intentions are innocent or not?” You took another bite of the cheesecake.

His smirk grew, and you watched him drop his fork onto the plate to lean back in his chair. “I would say they are, however, I did have plans to kiss you on the cheek tonight, so maybe, busted?” He chuckled then, at himself – he liked doing that you’d noticed. It was kind of cute.

The butterflies were back. Now there was no need to ignore or try to explain them. You took them as what they were – a good sign. Humming aloud, you tilted your head to the side and pretended to contemplate. “I think I can let you do that.”

Seokjin laughed. “You can? Okay, that sounds good.”

You reached for your glass of wine, needing a sip just to calm the flurry inside of you. Seokjin tucked his chair closer, still laughing but quietly now, more like a chuckle. “Honestly, I was pretty much shitting my pants today.”

You snorted into your glass, taken by surprise at his choice of words. “Sorry,” you apologised, feeling a little bit embarrassed by the sound that had just left your nose. He didn’t same fazed. “I was nervous too.”

That seemed to settle him. He smiled fondly, fingers tracing the brim of his glass. “I guess we were being silly.” His lips parted to say something else but he hesitated. You watched him take a quiet exhale, then he continued. “My therapist has been begging me to try dating again for months but the thought has always been pretty terrifying.” He gave a small shrug, his warm eyes locking with yours. “Until I met you.”

You could feel your heart rate speeding up, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face. He was pleased, grinning back, posture visibly relaxing. “She said I should face up to my fears and just ask you out.”

There were a lot of thoughts whirring through your mind right now. The fact he felt comfortable enough to disclose with you that he had a therapist, and the fact that he’d even mentioned you to her, that she had encouraged him to ask you out. The fact he’d liked you enough to want to take the plunge at all. After two years of being alone, you were the woman who had made him want to try again… It felt comparable to your own thoughts, to your feelings… and that’s why you felt so relaxed tonight. It just felt right.

“I like you, Y/N.” He confessed. “I know we don’t know one another very well, but I hope that this is just the beginning.”

Despite his words sending your butterflies crazy, you kept your cool, trying to stunt your smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.”

He chuckled. You let yourself smile at the sound. “Not so bad. I’ll take it.” He picked up his fork again, taking a bite of the cheesecake you’d both forgotten about. His voice was careful, genuine to match his expression, when he carried on. “Despite the circumstances of how we met and what followed, I don’t know, I haven’t felt a spark like that in forever.” He reached for a sip of his wine, laughing. “What do you think? You can call me crazy if you want.”

“I think you’re right.” There was no doubt about it now. You’d been adamant in the beginning that was nothing there – no spark, no flirting, insisting Soojung was wrong, but now you couldn’t deny the obvious attraction. You’d immediately bounced off one another that evening during the parent-teacher meeting, despite your annoyance the day before.

You grinned. “You frustrated me to no end but I felt something too.”

He tilted his head to the left, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Frustrated you? How so?”

“You know how,” you laughed. “I may or may not have called you an exasperating bastard in my head.”

He couldn’t contain himself then, taken back and genuinely amused. “Oh god,” he practically wheezed. “I like that one.”

You laughed along, unable not to when the sound he made brought you such joy. You reached for another forkful of cheesecake, the dessert nearly coming to an end. Just like the date, you thought. You didn’t want it to end, you were enjoying yourself too much.

“What about now?”

You looked up at Seokjin, eyes widening in question. What did he mean? He was staggeringly composed now, although his eyes shone with mischief as he grinned and explained. “Do I frustrate you now?”

You tried to stunt your own smile, shrugging your shoulders. “Not tonight.”

“At the fate?”

“Nope.”

He nodded his head, seemingly happy with your answers. “I guess things are looking up then.” He picked up his glass again, about to take a sip before he paused and added, “Although, I must admit, I liked frustrating you. You look so cute when your mad.”

You felt heat immediately burn its way to your cheeks, hoping the lighting in this restaurant was dim enough not to make it obvious. He took a swig of his wine. “Watch it, Mr. Kim.” As he chuckled it muffled inside the glass.

You went for the last piece of cheesecake, figuring you were owed that now. You looked across at him as you chewed, knowing that if you really wanted this to happen again you needed to let him know. Face up to your fears of opening up, telling people how you really felt. “I’d like to get to know you better, Seokjin.”

“Really?” He sounded hopeful, fingers playing with the rim of his wine glass again.

“Mmhm.” You nodded. “You seem like a lovely man if we ignore the car stealing...”

“Hey,” he whined, “you apologised for that already, you can’t bring it up again.” You held your hands up in silent defence, chuckling silently, watching him lean closer. “But please, go back to what you were saying about me being a lovely man. Stroke my ego, it’s been a long week.”

Had it? You were curious, concerned really. You thought to ask him if he wanted to talk about it, but you guessed the last thing he’d like to do was discuss work on a date. Instead, you decided to tell him about what attracted you most to him. The thing that had inevitably made you change your mind and realise that maybe, quite possibly, you’d misjudged him.

“Arin really adores you and I can see how much you dote on her. Any man cherished by his child is a good one in my eyes.”

“Oh.” He simply replied, possibly at a loss of words. He looked touched – happy, but ultimately unsure of what to reply, so he bypassed it in a way, raising an eyebrow. “So is there some kind of checklist?”

“What do you mean?”

He gave a slight shrug. “Like, ‘kids like him – check.’ ‘He knows how to clean dishes – check.’ – I can by the way. I’m really good with a pair of washing up gloves and some dish soap.”

You burst out laughing, not quite believing your ears. “Yeah, okay.” You admitted. “There’s a list.” Didn’t every woman have one?

“Let’s see how I fare then.” Seokjin said, sounding sure of himself as he leant back in his seat, hands behind his head – the image of casual. Maybe you were into this cocky Seokjin… It was sort of hot.

“Okay so…” You began, leaning forward. “Family man – check.” You’d already approved that one. “Loves animals?”

He scoffed. “Easy. Animals are so much better than humans.”

Okay, more points his way… “Uhh.” You thought aloud, racking your brains. “Does he make me laugh?”

Seokjin mulled it over. “That sounds like a decision you have to make, but I think it’s a yes? I mean, you’ve been laughing all night. Unless you were just being nice.”

“No, you are funny,” you confirmed, although you were unable to miss an opportunity to mess around with him. “You have that, what should I call it,” you pretended to think, “that old man type sense of humour.”

“Hey. I’m not that old,” he huffed.

You chuckled quietly. True, he wasn’t old, but you were still surprised when you’d found out he was turning 38 this coming December. Some people were blessed with ageing gracefully. Of course he was one of them. The man looked amazing for someone two years away from forty.

“What about you?” You wondered. “Do you have a checklist?”

He sat upright again, setting his elbow on the table to drop his chin in his palm, giving you his full attention. “Yes, and you check them all.”

“I do?” You laughed in disbelief. Either he was easy to please or he wanted brownie points.

He shrugged, as if to say of course. “You’re funny, caring, can be kind of scary at times – which I’m sort of into, to be honest.”

“I’m not scary,” you protested, pouting slightly. However, what? He was into it? That made you feel funny…

He smirked. “I beg to differ.”

You rolled your eyes. “What else do I check off?”

He didn’t need time to think. “You’re insanely beautiful.” Your dumbfounded expression made him second guess himself. He pulled a face. “Yikes. Too cheesy?”

You grinned, getting a hold of yourself. “Maybe, but then again, maybe I like that.” How could you not like being called beautiful? How could you not like receiving a compliment? Especially from him.

He smiled, gazing into your eyes as he leant forward. You felt immediate warmth when his hand cupped yours across the table. This was the first time he’d touched you, right? Your mind was a blur right now, unable to recall two hours ago, let alone two weeks ago. When he spoke, you only felt warmer, the soft timbre of his voice fluttering through your whole body. “I’m really attracted to you, Y/N.”

And what could you say to that? You swallowed, wetting your throat, realising it had become dry. He was waiting for a reply, amused by something – your blank looking face most probably. He had the ability to render you speechless, and he knew it. He liked it.

Well, no, not on your watch. You’d get the last word. You’d win.

Composing yourself, you slipped your hand from under his, tapping it lightly, as if you were consoling him. “I’ve said it once already, but you’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Kim.”

Taken aback, he chuckled quietly in bemusement, shaking his head. “You’re going to give me wrinkles.”

A man of his word, he did kiss you on the cheek after the date was over. He waited until he had driven you home and opened the door for you to step out of the car – ever the gentleman, you’d teased. You stood by the little gate that lead a pathway to your front door, and that’s where he’d leant down to place his lips ever so lightly against the top of your left cheek. You smiled shyly up at him, unable to play it cool this time.

He looked a little rosy in the face too, unsure as he smiled. “I had a lovely time tonight.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “Can I take you out next time?” You surprised yourself by the offer, that kiss must have shot some confidence into you.

He looked surprised too, but into it, tilting his head in curiosity as he looked down at you. “Where do you suggest?”

“My place?” Okay, so it wasn’t ‘taking him out’ but you liked the idea best. Soojung could stay over Tae’s. She owed you one. “I can cook for you,” you offered, a hand unconsciously reaching for the collar of his jacket, straightening it for him. “To you know, return the favour of you paying for dinner to say sorry for paying for my car to get fixed.”

His hand clasped around yours, dropping it between your bodies to hold it as he chuckled.

“This is getting a little confusing now.” He swung your hand gently and you curled your little finger around his loosely. You could get used to this physical contact. It felt ordinary, like you’d been doing it forever. “Can’t we just call it dating and have done?”

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh, sounding casual and unbothered. “I guess, if it’s easier.”

Seokjin’s laugh got lower, his face closer. His eyes kept looking between your eyes and lips, and you realised your heart was beginning to beat slower, or was it faster? You couldn’t tell anymore, but you could hear it pounding lightly inside your ears. You were in the middle of playing the same game – eyes then lips, eyes then lips – the seconds feeling more like minutes as he leant in closer and closer, but then –

You spotted Soojung in the window as you happened to glance behind Seokjin’s shoulder. She had now totally bypassed the voile curtain, thinking she was Miss. Inconspicuous with the lights off. The street lighting was as bright as anything though, and all you could see was her face glowing like a ghost as she ruined the moment entirely. You were not having your first kiss with Seokjin in front of her prying eyes.

Seokjin realised your attention was elsewhere now, awkwardly pulling back to scratch his neck with his free hand. You clutched at the hand that was holding yours, not wanting him to think you’d blown him off. He didn’t say anything though, just continued your conversation with a bemused smile. “Um, so what are you going to cook?”

“What do you like?” You asked, only half your attention on him. Maybe you could silently signal to Soojung, tell her to get the hell out of the window before Seokjin noticed.

“I’m easy,” you heard him reply. “What’s your speciality?”

“Uh…” Think Y/N, think. Distracted you said the first thing that popped into your head, still trying to force Soojung away with just your eyeballs. “Lasagne.”

“Lasagne?” He sounded interested.

You finally met his eyes for more than five seconds, feeling a little panicky. “Yeah, my World Famous Italian lasagne.”

Oh no.

Seokjin laughed, dropping your hand to cup your cheek instead. Earlier, if this had happened you would have spontaneously combusted but now you had a case of the Nosey Friend and you couldn’t concentrate to save your life. “Okay, now you’re just talking big.”

You couldn’t help it, your eyes attempting to dart past his shoulder again. He noticed – he’d probably noticed this entire time, an eyebrow of his raising. “What is going on over my shoulder?”

You tried to stop him, clinging to his elbow, but he turned around anyway, eyes falling on Soojung immediately. You saw her instantly panic and jump back, dropping the curtain in front of the window again. “That’s just Soojung,” you sighed. “Ignore her, she’s an idiot.”

Seokjin was deeply amused, laughing as he turned back to you. “So, is next Saturday okay?” You pressed.

He grinned. “Saturday sounds perfect to me.”

As you said your goodbyes, Seokjin turned to the window and gave a small wave, chortling to himself. You couldn’t see Soojung anymore but you just knew she was still spying. But relieved Seokjin didn’t seem fazed, you made your way inside, giving Seokjin a wave by the door as he pulled off, feeling happy, yet a little sad the night was over already. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d enjoyed yourself like that.

It was only when you were inside did you remember what you’d just done, too preoccupied to think properly beforehand. Oh God, the lasagne. Saturday night was going to be a disaster.

Soojung came running into the entry way, interrupting your freak out. “He saw me! He saw me!” Her voice was shrill, and you couldn’t tell if it was because she was embarrassed or excited.

“That’s what happens when you spy, idiot,” you swiped, kicking off your heels. The instant relief brought you no comfort. “Soo, I’ve done something stupid.” You admitted.

She instantly looked worried. “What? What have you done?”

You sighed, already feeling like a fool. “Okay so, I invited him over next weekend and said I’d cook for him.”

“Girl is horny for that D–”

“Shut up, that’s not the problem,” you stopped her. She looked puzzled. “You were distracting me!” It was all her fault. You weren’t taking the blame. “He asked me what I was gonna cook and I told him I make a World Famous Italian lasagne!”

Your best friend was silent for an extended second, making sense of your words before she burst out laughing. Highly dramatic, practically doubled over, splitting her sides. Even more dramatic than you for freaking out over a damn lasagne.

“You have never made lasagne in your entire life!” She exclaimed. “What were you thinking?”

“It was your fault!” It was also her fault you didn’t get to kiss Seokjin properly too. But you weren’t going to bring that up now, unable to bear the constant teasing that would ensue.

“My fault?!” She laughed. You just rolled your eyes. She did not appreciate that at all. “Whatever. I can’t wait to see your “World Famous Italian lasagne.” Make sure to save me some, won’t you?”

“Right,” you huffed. “For that, I’m not telling you how the date went.”

She soon changed her tune, needing all the details just to be able to sleep tonight…

#jin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

Note

Hiya, I was wondering if I could please request 3 (Echo) with B+O (Injury/sickness recovery + first kiss)? I don’t really mind who’s in recovery or whether it’s 501st echo/bad batch echo, I just thought these prompts would lead nicely into a confession between our two main characters; also I just want to say I love your writing!! ❤️

Aww, thank you so much for the request and for being so kind, Anon! Sorry this took forever, but I’ve been stuck in an idea block for a week or two, and I ended up writing about four different versions of this. You’re very sweet, but you probably shouldn’t be nice to me, because apparently, it makes me write one-shots that are way too long. So here’s a 2700 word one-shot...

Also! It ended up being a tad spicy toward the end. Nothing anywhere close to M-rating, but more than I usually write in one-shots.

Echo + Injury/Sickness Recovery + First Kiss

The first time you met Echo, you didn't like him very much.

You were in the medbay for a sickness that was taking Coruscant by storm, hitting nat-born GAR members especially hard. As a nat-born intelligence officer, you had been ordered to the GAR's main medbay, which had been sub-divided into large bays full of cots. Almost every cot was filled with GAR personnel who needed treatment for the same sickness.

It wouldn't have been bad if you had been able to take the meds right away and start the healing process, but you had been on a dangerous mission and fought the sickness off for longer than you should have. It had worked and you had survived your mission, but you were severely dehydrated. The medics - all clone troopers, by that point - had ordered you to stay until you were fully healed and they could get your fluid levels back where they should have been. Faced with no other options, you had agreed.

And then the 501st had arrived.

Through your IV, you had gotten through half a bag of a liquid you preferred not to think too hard about. The medics promised that your meds would be kicking in soon, and you would feel much better before the day was over. For the moment, you felt nauseated and every part of your body ached, especially your head.

When the troopers came in, their white armor painted with blue accents in various styles, they were so loud that the rest of the medbay went quiet.

One of the medics, his hair shaved short to show off a set of intricate tattoos, hurried up to them as he pulled off his gloves. You could hear his hissed question from your bed on the other side of the large room. "What are you idiots doing here?"

One of the men beamed at him. "We're in trouble!"

You scoffed to yourself. You had no difficulty believing they had gotten on someone's bad side.

The tattooed medic rubbed his temples. "Hardcase… what did you guys do now?"

You had heard stories about the rowdy 501st from other operatives. They were supposed to be a nightmare to work alongside, all explosions and heroics without any grasp of subtlety.

One of the other men stepped forward and seemed to be offering an explanation, but he did it in a voice pitched low enough that you couldn't hear him. You were grateful for that, and did your best to fall asleep.

It wasn't to be, however, as one of the 501st made his way down the row of beds in your direction. He chatted with some of the other patients, laughing loudly at their responses. By the time he reached you, you could have cheerfully put a blaster to the 5 tattooed on his temple.

"And how are you doing today?" the trooper belted out.

"In a lot of pain, actually," you snapped at him, a visceral response to the effect his voice had on your roiling stomach. "Can you please talk more quietly?"

There. A please. You were being polite.

"If I'm quiet, does that mean I can stay over here with you, pretty lady?" he asked with a wink, settling onto the foot of your bed.

You eyed him stonily. You felt revolting from the effects of the sickness, and you were wearing a GAR-issued medical gown besides. ‘Pretty’ was an attempt at flattery, and not even a believable one.

"Fives," the medic with the head tattoos admonished, stepping up to your bedside as well. "Stop. She doesn't feel well and she doesn't need you hanging around, making it worse."

"Me?" Fives asked, sounding both shocked and offended. "We both know I only make things better, Kix."

You sighed and wished with your whole soul that they would both go away. You just wanted to sleep.

"Besides," Fives continued, "We were ordered to help in the medbay. You wouldn't want me to disobey orders, would you?"

From the look on Kix's face, he had lined up a scathing retort that you were dying to hear, but you needed to make a brief announcement. "If this conversation continues right here, I am going to vomit."

You had never seen two grown men move so quickly. You would have smiled if you didn't feel so rotten.

"Echo," Kix called softly with a worried glance in your direction, beckoning yet another trooper over.

This one had no tattoos, but you vaguely recognized him as the only trooper you hadn't been able to overhear earlier.

"Get Fives away from here," Kix ordered. "Keep him productive and occupied, but don't let him talk."

Echo nodded and gave you an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry about him," he said, indicating Fives, who looked deeply offended.

"Please," was the only response you could muster, cradling your head delicately in your hands. From the bit of your peripheral vision that wasn’t blocked by your palms, you watched his shoulders slump slightly as he towed his brother away. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were full of Echo’s disappointed face along with strong feelings of guilt.

The second time you met him was only a few hours later. You were having fever dreams. The medication had apparently worn off and no one had noticed. In your dreams, you had called a medic over a dozen times, but you always woke to find that you hadn’t said a thing, and fell asleep again before you could.

It was one of these shallow, fitful dreams that Echo interrupted. “Hey. Hey! Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Thoroughly confused by the world of the surrounding medbay, you squinted up at him. “Echo?” He nodded and you launched right into the speech you had prepared in your sleep. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I just… my head hurt, and you guys are loud, and-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Echo assured you, crouching by your bedside to put himself on your level. “The 501st - and Fives in particular - is very loud. It’s our best quality.”

You snorted at that and Echo’s kind face broke into a warm smile. “You should get back to sleep. It’s really late. Or early. I’m not sure which, but everyone else is asleep, and you should be, too.”

“I think I need some meds, actually,” you admitted. “I feel like death.”

Echo frowned and reached up to brush his fingers over your forehead, flinching back almost immediately. “Kriff, you’re burning up! Hang on, let me grab a medic for you.”

You nodded, but grabbed his wrist before he could leave, “If you bring me some water, I’ll love you forever.”

It was just a childish hyperbole, something you and your family had said whenever you had asked for a favor, particularly a minor one. Echo didn’t seem to have the same connection with it, based on the way he had frozen in place and was staring at you with wide eyes that flashed between your face and your grip on his wrist.

Clearing your throat, you released him and corrected yourself. “I mean, please? I’m very thirsty.”

Echo turned around a moment later and you sighed, hoping your hot face looked like the flush of a fever.

You were half-drowsing when Echo came back with Kix in tow. You jumped a bit when Kix said your name, and Echo was quick to soothe you. “Easy, easy. It’s just us.”

He handed you the biggest glass of water you had ever seen and retreated halfway across the medbay before you had chugged half of it.

The next day, you were actually feeling better. Granted, ‘better’ was a relative term, but you didn’t actively want to die any more, and that was something. The only thing messing up your day was the lingering awkwardness between you and Echo. Every time his circuit around the room took him past your cot, he would avoid your eyes.

From your calculations, he looped around the gigantic medbay room every six minutes or so. On his next lap past, you softly asked, “Echo?”

You had meant to be subtle and quiet, but you were still a bit less hydrated than you should have been, and it came out as a horrifying croak. If someone had called your name in that voice, you would have immediately run away, but Echo just turned slightly and looked your direction.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“You already said that,” Echo reminded you gently. “The 501st is loud. I understand why you weren’t happy with us.”

“Not about that,” you forced out, half-wishing you could just let him think you had been delirious with fever and thus not responsible for anything you had said or done. “I mean that I’m sorry for saying the whole love you forever thing. It was a joke, but I feel like it landed poorly.”

“There’s no need, really,” Echo told you. He smiled then, a small sad smile. “We clones don’t get to see much good in the universe. Not with this war going on. Even though you were joking, it was nice to hear something like that.”

You stared at him, trying to keep the poker face the GAR had hired you for.

“Besides,” Echo said with a laugh, “if you want to see how a bad joke really sounds, hang out with Fives for a few minutes. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to see the difference!”

You chuckled at that and the smile he gave lit his whole face as he continued his patrol. You watched Echo leave, thinking hard. It was ironic that this was the conversation where your heart had melted just a touch. It wasn’t love, not yet, but this third exchange left feelings that were inappropriate considering that you had known him for less than a day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, betrayed by all of the napping you had done during the day. Echo was patrolling the room again and noticed you on his fourth lap.

He crouched by your bedside once again. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” you admitted with a sigh. “Can you?”

Echo frowned. “I can, but I’m on watch right now.”

“On watch,” you repeated skeptically. “For what?”

“Someone has to make sure the patients are doing okay while the medics sleep,” he explained. “It’s a very important job.”

“Your brothers are all playing sabacc in the corner,” you pointed out. “Go join them. Or, better yet, get some sleep. I haven’t seen you take a break yet.”

“You were unconscious for over half of the day,” Echo reminded you. “I could have been on break then.”

“You weren’t,” you told him confidently. “Because you wouldn’t have known that I slept the whole time.”

Echo frowned. “You’re too smart to work for the army.”

“Intelligence officer,” you explained simply.

Lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, Echo leapt to his feet and gave a dramatic salute. You pretended to aim a kick in his direction and you both dissolved into muffled giggles in an attempt not to wake any of the other patients.

“If you won’t try to sleep, at least sit down?” you requested, indicating the foot of your cot as you struggled to sit up so you could move out of his way. “You’re stressing me out. I can’t be expected to get better if I’m stressed.”

“We can’t have that,” Echo teased. He helped you sit up before he did anything else, but the awkwardness of the position left him hauling you up by your armpits. You were thankful that you had found the strength to walk to the sonic shower that day, at least. “Not like I can get sick from you, anyway.”

Echo sat talking with you for hours, even after his brothers had all drifted off at their sabacc table. Before you fell asleep again, he brought you another giant glass of water. You accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded and left so you could get some sleep. By the time you had finished the glass, he was on the other side of the medbay and couldn’t hear you mutter, “Love you forever.”

For the next few days, Echo lived by your bedside. The conversations you had made you laugh so hard that you went into the occasional coughing fit and got the evil eye from Kix. So, you were less pleased than you had expected to be when Kix told you that you could be discharged the following day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Getting your sleep pattern back under control was going to be the biggest struggle, you reflected, staring at the massive beams supporting the ceiling.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Echo teased, walking up. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You waved a hand around dramatically. “I’m trying to commit these beautiful surroundings to memory. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll need to remember the enchanting way the dust clings to that wall over there.”

Suddenly serious, Echo asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

You nodded, and couldn’t tell if it was your imagination, or if he really looked disappointed. Still, he mustered a smile. “I’m glad.”

With a falsely offended gasp, you replied, “You’re glad I’m leaving? That’s rude!”

“No, I mean-!” Echo sputtered, grimacing at you when you started to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting better. Even if you’re just as mean as the day I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” you agreed with a grin.

“You are not,” he countered immediately. “You’re sweet and funny and- I’ll miss you. Selfish, huh?”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you admitted. “I guess we’re both selfish. But, hey, you’ll finally get some sleep now!”

“I suppose I will,” Echo said with the ghost of his usual smile. “At least we can have one last overnight conversation. Unless you’re too tired?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sit down, Echo.”

The two of you talked for hours that night. The medbay steadily got more silent and your eyes began to ache. Try as you might, you were still recovering from your illness and the point came when you couldn’t fight it off any longer. You fell into a light doze as Echo was talking.

You were dimly aware as he finished his sentence and waited for a response, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything. Echo gave an amused sounding hum and stood from your cot. You immediately missed his warmth, but felt like he was still standing by you.

Soft lips pressed against your forehead and left as Echo started to move away. “What was that cop-out bantha dung?” you asked blearily.

Echo jumped a bit and stared down at you, but you were half-asleep, impulsive, and you knew what you wanted. You sat up to grab his shoulders and brought him back down to you, kissing him with as much fervor as an extremely tired person could muster.

He kissed you back, opening his mouth to release an almost-soundless groan, and you were suddenly wide awake. With both of you actively participating in your embrace, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to get carried away.

When you finally broke apart, it was only because someone had cleared their throat sharply.

Echo pulled back, bracing on his forearms to look up at Kix while you peered at the medic from under Echo’s chest. When had he gotten on top of you? His hip brushed against your upper thigh and you abruptly didn’t care anymore.

“I take it you’re well enough to be released from here?” Kix asked, a raised brow accentuating his smirk.

You glanced around to find that half of the medbay was awake and staring at you and Echo with expressions ranging from bleary bewilderment to amused approval. Some of Echo’s brothers were awake as well, though their faces ran heavily to outright shock.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready to go home,” you agreed, glancing up at Echo. “Wanna come with me?”

Echo nodded and glanced up at Kix. The medic shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “No, I have no idea where Echo went. He worked several around the chrono shifts and then he disappeared. I assume he went to get some well-deserved rest. Sign here.”

The last part was directed at you and you obligingly scrawled your name on the datapad he was holding out in your direction.

“Your personal effects are in the front room,” Kix informed you. “Drink some water now and then, would you?”

“Of course, thanks,” you said absently, attention already stolen away by the fascinating blush creeping up Echo’s cheeks. You slipped out from under him and grabbed his hand to tow him behind you. “C’mon. You’re gonna love my apartment.”

---

A/N - ahh, why did this end up being such a novel? Sorry about that! If you want to read similar works, check out my masterlist or make a request based on this post (or make something up and I’ll do my best!). Thanks for reading!

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw fanfic #tcw #echo #echo x you #echo x reader #kix #fives #illness #first kiss #star wars fanfiction #fic request

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drabbleitout · 2 years

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Find the Word Tag Game

Tagged by: @spacetimewraithwrites who I'm hoping is getting enough sleep over here My Words: decision, dark, drop, door, drunk, & dare Tagging: @winterandwords, @ashen-crest, @drowsy-quill, @zmwrites, and anyone else who is interested! (As always please don't feel pressured or rushed!) Your Words: Long, Love, Left, Lip, & Learn

Decision

“Well, I did have plans for us tonight as I was under the assumption you would take to a promotion faster than you drive.” Ives shrugged innocently, popping the door open to get something from inside. “I mean, celebratory plans might weight in on the decision if you’re trying to bribe me.” “Now, I know Captain Ryker would never take a bribe.” “If it includes dinner plans, he might. I’m starving.”

Dark

| ENABLING REMOTE CONNECTION … | appeared in Beau’s HUD | SCANNING … AUTHORIZATION PASSKEY _ _ _ _| | 5…3…3…2 | Dialed out automatically, not of Beau’s doing. He could only assume he was still synced to Ives. | k9-HXn-N2009 PAIRING … SUCCESS | SUMMONING k9-HXn-N2009 A window appeared in Beau's HUD, a small screen of video feed. It was dark, suddenly going bright before view of the crash site emerged from the car's trunk. The perspective was close to the ground, fast, beelining for Ives. It wasn’t long before he appeared in the feed, barricaded behind a dumpster. For a moment Beau thought whatever k9-HXn-N2009 was, would attack Ives. | CMD_ SWEEP … | The feed turned sharply away from Ives, rounding the corner towards the threats Beau had discovered. Curiously, Beau leaned out from his position, peering over the edge of the roof discovering the mobile unit which resembled a dog.

Drop

"Aw, Guppy. It's not you that we hate," Chava winked, shifting her weight back and toppling over the edge. "NO!" Beau dropped his weapon, hydraulics in his leg faulting as he threw himself after her. He crashed against the wall, fingers brushing the hem of her jacket as she slipped away. He could jump, catch her, break her fall. 75 FT DROP ASSESSING LEAP DAMAGE TERMINAL UPLOADING TO BLOOMINGTECH CLOUD

Door

A nurse exited, drawing Ives' focus from analyzing audio and video clips. It was an AI in scrubs, connections blocked with a busy status. Ives shot him a disappointed look for the hell of it, certain it was ignored. It was already an hour after Beau had left, grey, heavy light growing in the windows. 06:27:45 A.M. Another swing of the door and out stepped Ryker. He was in one piece. Still bruised, one arm in a sling, gauze and adhesive stitches littering his face and neck. A nurse followed, a buzz with her tablet as if she were having trouble keeping up with his shuffling pace.

Drunk

Garnet sat on the side of the bed, glaring at his shoes. “Here,” Beau loosened the cap of the sports drink, patiently keeping it suspended in Garnet’s face as he swayed in hopes of focusing on it. He passed Beau a wicked grin. “You tryin’ to get me drunk?” He slurred, taking the bottle anyways. “Oh, yes, projecting a 100% success.” Garnet released a candid chuckled overflowing with joy, “I like comin’ home wi’you.”

Dare

"Hey," Garnet nudged him, "bet you can't hit Ives from all the way over here." He pointed to Ives who stood at the opposite corner with his back turned, talking to Ryker. Beau scoffed, "That's a losing bet at this distance." “Fine, then I dare you to hit Ives.” Beau peered up and down the street making sure the parade hadn't started. Calibrating, he retreated half a step, cranked his arm back, and launched the snowball across the intersection. White powder exploded off the back of Ives' head, Ryker wincing as pieces tinkered on his face.

#tag game #my writing #writeblr #writblr #writing #wip: tb #I'm having a hard time cutting that drunk Garnet scene #Every time I go to pull it I choke #try to walk away & I stumble 🎵

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doctenwho · 4 years

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Alec’s Emergency Contact

Welcome back! I loved this prompt! It was so cute and I really got carried away writing! I believe I stuck to the main idea, but there’s a lot of fluff in here too, and Alec having a bit of personality because he’s with someone he loves (like with Daisy).

Hopefully I got his character right, since I’ve not posted anything Broadchurch yet, and sometimes it takes me a couple tries to get a character right. A couple small spoilers for season 1 along the way, but nothing too big, I don’t think. Anyways, I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it!

Warnings: None, I don’t think.

Word Count: 3,722

Summary: Read the prompt :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to creator!)

Alec Hardy did not remember a whole lot before he went down. He and Miller were chasing whomever had Danny Latimer’s cellphone, and then, well, he got a bit overexerted? Ran out of steam? Lost his footing?

Alright fine, he nearly died. He worked his heart too hard, and he collapsed on the job. Not only that, he collapsed in front of Miller. Damn Miller. How was he supposed to hide it from her now? He’d done so well at hiding his heart arrhythmia from everyone in Broadchurch, but now Ellie knows, and if Ellie knows, it won’t be long until everyone knows. Especially if it’s something regarding his wellbeing.

Bloody small towns.

It wasn’t intentional, that much he knew. He really hadn’t been meaning to work himself to the bone just yet, not when there was still so much to be doing for the case. He’d be no use to the case if he were dead, and then no one would get justice and Danny’s killer would walk free, despite his unforgivable deed.

But he also couldn’t just stop because his heart decided it didn’t want to endure the difficulties of being a Detective Inspector. He had promises to keep, to the families of the victims, to the victims themselves—and to himself.

He’d told himself he’d get justice for Danny and his family if it was the last thing he did, which might just be what it comes down to. He’d told himself the same thing about the Sandbrook case, but he’d be damned if another case took a sour turn like Sandbrook had.

He would get justice for these children. For the three misfortunate kids (and teenager), and the families to lose them far too soon. He owed them that much.

Hardy had blinked his eyes open, only to shut them just as fast. The light streamed into the room, bright and white, and almost blinding. He was reclined in the bed, covered by a blanket and propped up on a pillow or two.

He was no stranger to hospital rooms, in Sandbrook and in Broadchurch, and with this stupid heart arrhythmia, he was sure this wouldn’t be the last time either.

Even if he did try to stay out of stressful situations, and give his heart breaks, it was only getting worse. He’d need the peacemaker to really aid in his wellbeing. But he couldn’t commit to an operation when he was so close to cracking the Danny Latimer case and getting the boy the justice he deserved.

The room was quiet, a soft beeping of a heart monitor announcing his heart beats, which had thankfully steadied. It wasn’t erratic, or beating out of his chest as it had been during the chase. Small victories he supposed.

Hardy turned a bit onto his side to look around the room, studying the monitor and it’s reading, as well as the IV drip in his hand. He huffed a quiet breath at the medical equipment before turning on to his other side and almost dropping back onto his back in hazy surprise at hearing an irritated voice huff a rather annoyed, “well, look who’s back in the land of the living.” which was followed by his eyes landing on a very familiar, annoyed, face.

“(Y/N),” Hardy breathed out, trying to prop himself up on his elbows to get a better look at his boyfriend who should currently be home, hours away from Broadchurch, “what... what are you doing here? Why are you in Broadchurch?”

“Well,” you clicked your tongue, arms crossed across your chest, “as it turns out, when a loved one is literally dying, the hospital tends to contact your emergency contact.”

“I wasn’t dying,” Hardy tried to wave it off, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. He couldn’t help the tug of guilt in his chest though, which in turn, made his heart skip a noticeable beat on the heart monitor. He glanced slowly at the machine, before looking back to his frustrated boyfriend.

“No, you really were,” (Y/N) frowned, eyes locked on the machine to just give a warning beep, before you were casting your look back on your hospitalized boyfriend, “they told me you were dying.”

“They... they’re not allowed to tell you that.” Alec huffed, pulling himself up. You stood to adjust his pillows so he could sit up a bit more, and Alec didn’t seem bothered by you doing so.

He wasn’t the fondest of being cared for, but honestly, you didn’t really care about that right now. Not when he looked so pitiful tucked away in a hospital bed after almost dying while chasing a supposed murderer.

You’d heard the whole story form his new partner, who’d just stepped out to get the two of you coffee, just before Alec finally woke up.

You really needed the coffee since you’d driven almost all night to sit by Alec’s bedside until he woke up so you could scold him properly.

Ellie clearly had the same idea, since she’d also been up all night with him, and it almost made you smile. Or, it would’ve if Alec hadn’t been in the Intensive Care Unit at your arrival.

He’d been moved to a regular room shortly after when his heart steadied out, and you couldn’t be more thankful you could sit with him here.

It was the worst feeling to have a loved one be so close to dying and not be able to see them—or hold their hand, which you hadn’t put down when you’d finally gotten a hold of. At least until Alec showed signs of waking, then you remembered you were cross with him.

Ellie had been a lovely woman, charming and pleasant since you’d met her in the waiting room. You really weren’t sure how she had managed to put up with Alec, but then again, everyone always wondered how you could do the same thing.

You’d heard bits and pieces of Ellie Miller from Alec over the phone, but you knew very little. He didn’t share every detail, but he was always happy to rant and grumble about things that annoyed him about people and work, and even Broadchurch as a whole.

She was a good partner for him if she could manage to put up with him, and you’d expressed how thankful you were that she’d been there for Alec. You couldn’t even imagine if he’d had an arrhythmia when he was by himself.

“They’re supposed to tell me everything that puts you in the hospital, Alec. Anytime you’re admitted, I should be the first person to know. Just like you’d like to know if I were admitted into the hospital, wouldn’t you?” Alec looked down to his lap, which was confirmation enough.

You rolled your eyes at the man in the bed, annoyed but fond all the same. You wanted to reach for his hand again, now that he was conscious and would squeeze your hand back like he always did, but you were still angry at him, “in fact, I’m a bit pissed off I wasn’t contacted when you fell in the restroom in your hotel room just after you got here. And even if they didn’t tell me, you should’ve rung me. You can’t keep these things a secret from me, not when it’s your health we’re talking about.”

“Hey, that one wasn’t my fault,” Alec frowned. “I was just as surprised as you were, I’m sure. It wasn’t a secret, I just... I don’t want to worry you.”

“I know,” you sighed, leaning back in the chair tiredly, “we’ll still talk about it later. And it’s my job to be worried about you. I only agreed to you coming here alone because you promised to look after yourself if I wasn’t here with you. I know how you feel about small towns and the gossip associated, but I’m not going to stand back and watch you work yourself into an early grave because you don’t want people talking about us.”

“It’s not that I don’t want them talking about us,” he stressed the word, “it’s that I don’t want you being hassled by newspapers for information about cases—and I certainly don’t want them focusing on us when there’s been a child murdered. Not everyone’ll be accepting of us—especially here with all the local chatter and that bloody Broadchurch Echo newspaper.”

He paused for a beat before lifting his attention and giving you a soft glare, “and I’ve been looking after myself,” Alec muttered, offended by the observation. “And if I haven’t, Millhur has been. She brings me tea, and... chips. I’m fine.”

“Of course,” you sniped, “it sure looks like you’ve been watching over yourself, Love.” You gestured easily along the length of Alec, curled up in a hospital bed. The man returned a look of irritation, but it didn’t bother you. “Honestly, you’d probably be far worse off if Ellie hadn’t been keeping an eye on you, which thankfully she has been watching out for your sorry arse.”

“Ellie,” the man wrinkled his nose, narrowing his eyes at your tense figure, “since when have you been buddy-buddy with Millhur?”

“Since the two of us sat up all night together waiting for a certain hospitalized spoon to come to.”

Once again Alec looked offended. Spoon wasn’t exactly an endearing nickname, but you were still upset with him. He was probably just upset that you finally met the Miller he talked almost fondly about, in his grouchy Alec way whenever the two of you spoke on the phone.

You took a breath, exhaling slowly before launching yourself into another round of telling him off, which he clearly needed to hear, “I just can’t understand why you’d throw yourself into a situation you knew you were in no shape to be handling. Your heart is weak, Alec. You can’t be stressing, or overexerting yourself. You need to be careful, and chasing after a murder in the dead of night is certainly not careful.”

“I was doing my job,” Alec let his head fall back against the pillows propping him up. “I was doing what I’m getting paid to do. I’m doing what’s morally right for the families of the children who were murdered.”

“I know that,” you promised, “but, you’re not the only detective the world, Alec,” you tried to keep yourself from exclaiming, “you may be one of the best, but you’re not the only one. And you certainly won’t be any help when you’re six feet under because you ignored your own needs, and your body’s pleas for you to stop and take it easy for once!”

Alec’s lips curled up into a scowl, but he looked a bit more guilty that he really looked mad. You hated making him feel guilty for helping others, and being a truly amazing detective by bringing in bad guys, but you’d much rather this look guilty than, be attending his funeral because he ignored every word of advice ever given to him.

It didn’t matter who said it, whether it be you, a doctor, a specialist, Daisy, or even his ex-wife, once he put his mind to something, there was nothing anyone could say to make him stop and reconsider. But you’d known that since way back when, when the two of you had started dating.

“You seriously almost died, Alec.” You sighed, looking down at the floor, “do you know how awful it is to get a call like that in the early hours of the morning? Someone phoning you to tell you that your boyfriend had been rushed to hospital after collapsing at work?”

“I know,” he whispered, reaching a hand out, barely hanging over the edge of the bed, “I know, Love, and I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. But I couldn’t let him get away; I can’t do that to Danny. This case will not end the same way it did for Pippa and Lisa. I won’t let it—I can’t let it.”

You’d been following the case via news articles and police statements. You were proud of Alec for what he did for a living, despite fearing that it would eventually be the death of him. He really did so much for the victims and their families, more than anyone could know. He always worked so hard to bring in offenders, especially murderers.

You also knew the details of the Sandbrook case—you knew everything because he’d told you. You probably knew more than most of the officers at Sandbrook, because you believed him wholeheartedly. He was a good, kindhearted man. Just a bit tough on the outside.

“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead,” you reminded with a sigh, reaching across the gap between his bed and your chair to finally take his hand into your own. It was brutal, but it was the truth. You just hoped it would sink in for Alec.

Alec squeezed your hand just like you were silently praying he would. It was comforting, quieting your raging emotions if only for a moment. He was okay, he’d survived and he was here talking to you.

“I hope I’m not stressing you out,” you whispered as you scooted your chair a bit closer to the bed so you weren’t reaching quite as far. “That would be counterproductive.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, giving you a small smile and bringing your hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of your hand which was still held tightly in his, “you’ve just been telling me what I needed to hear from someone other than myself. I know all this, but I can’t just stop. Health aside, there’s a family—three families—who have lost their children.”

“But what if I lose you?” you couldn’t help but ask, “or if Daisy loses her father? And what about Ellie? I’m quite sure she’s grown a bit fond of you as well, though I’m not sure how that happened,” you teased lightly. It was just to ease the tension a bit. The man gave you a small, sad smile, before he was looking up to the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, “I’ll try to be a bit more careful. For Daisy and you... and, well, I suppose for Millhur too. But I will not stop. We’re so close to catching Danny’s killer. I don’t care what anyone has to say, that bastard will not get away with this.”

“You’ll get the sick bastard who did this,” you told him, because it was what he needed to hear. “You and Ellie. The two of you will catch this guy. I know you will, because that’s what you do.”

You paused for a second before turning towards him and frowning, “but for the love of God, don’t kill yourself trying, y’hear?”

“I hear,” Alec laughed. “I’m alright now,” he assured, pulling your hand halfheartedly towards himself. You huffed a small laugh, standing up so you could sit on the side of the bed against the headboard like he was silently requesting you do. Alec smiled at you, shifting closer so he could tuck his head into your side. “I’ll be alright. I’ll be alright, and I’ll catch the bastard to kill Danny Latimer.”

“I expect nothing less,” you snorted, trailing your fingers through his hair now that he was within reach and apparently seeking affection, “now you need to relax for a while if you expect me to let you return to work as fast as I know you’re going to want me too.”

“I should get back today-”

“Absolutely not. You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you muttered in fond disbelief, “tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. And you’re going to be sticking around Ellie, or so help me, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Yes, fine,” Alec rolled his eyes, “tomorrow, and I’ll stick close to Millhur. Happy then?”

“Immensely,” you deadpanned before grinning at the man cuddled into your side. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

----

To say Ellie was surprised to find out that her boss had such a pleasant boyfriend was a bit of an understatement. She probably shouldn’t have been so surprised at the knowledge that he wasn’t as lonely and miserable in the dating department as she’d thought, since he’d not said a word about himself since arriving.

He’d only told her about his daughter when Joe had prompted him into it when Hardy had come around their house for dinner. Hell, he’d not even bothered to tell her he had severe heart arrhythmia.

That wasn’t something someone should keep from their friend.

He really could’ve died, and she was fully prepared to lay into him for keeping that secret the moment he woke up, when (Y/N) had rushed in the doors demanding to know how he was.

Like the polite person she was, Ellie had introduced herself to the mystery man pleading to see her boss, only to find out the jerk had this secret boyfriend he hadn’t bothered mentioning.

She knew bare minimum of his ex-wife, so it was a bit of a surprise that he had a boyfriend, not that she minded. He could be into anyone he fancied and nothing could change what she thought of him. He’d always be Hardy, a bit of a prick, but one of the best people she’d ever known.

They’d gotten around to talking, waiting into the late hours of the morning before Hardy was moved from Intensive Care and into a regular room, where the two of them were allowed to sit with him.

Ellie thought it was adorable how (Y/N) pushed his chair up right close to the bed and held her boss’ hand. It was strange to see Hardy like this, to see him have someone who clearly loved and cared for him, holding his hand and sitting without moving for hours.

She was happy he had someone. She’d never say it out loud, and never to Hardy, but she knew he was too good to be alone. That it wasn’t right that a man like Hardy would be single, even though he was a bit of an odd guy.

(Y/N) seemed like a lovely guy. Doting and caring. He told her stories that she was sure Hardy would’ve lost his mind if he knew she knew them, but (Y/N) didn’t seem bothered at the fact, and instead only shot fond looks at Hardy as he retold the stories.

He didn’t tell her much about Hardy in general—like his daughter or ex, or even mention his illness or anything along the lines, but he had ample stories and fond memories of the two of them he was happy to share.

Ellie could barely even imagine her Hardy—the Hardy in the bed to be the man in (Y/N)’s stories. But it was adorable and heartwarming all the same. It made her happy that Hardy had someone like (Y/N).

And it made he even happier that (Y/N) was scolding Hardy like she wanted too as well. Not that she meant to eavesdrop outside the door, but it really doesn’t take more than ten minutes to get coffee from the cafeteria in the hospital.

They were the cutest thing, and she’d be sure to tease Hardy a bunch about his adorable boyfriend when he was feeling better. And she definitely would because it wasn’t every day that an important person from Hardy’s life makes an appearance.

When the talking inside the room died down to an occasional mumble, Ellie finally rapped her knuckles twice without managing to spill any coffee as a warning before pushing it open with her elbow, two to-go cups of barely warmer than lukewarm coffee in her hands.

“’ello, Sir,” she grinned, containing the ‘aw’ sitting on the tip of her tongue as she took in her boss cuddled into his boyfriend, “feeling better?”

“I’m fine,” he waved her off with a scowl that was all too familiar at this point. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the man without a scowl if she were honest.

He didn’t bother moving away from his boyfriend though, as she feared he would’ve done since he was Hardy, and that alone warmed her heart.

“Well, don’t the two of you look all cozy,” she couldn’t resist teasing. She stepped into the room, handing the second cup of coffee to (Y/N). He took the cup gratefully, grinning widely at the comment before taking a sip of his coffee and leaning back against the pillows.

“Sod off, Millhur,” the man reclined in the bed sighed. He even sounded tired, but she resisted the urge to frown. Frowning wouldn’t help anyone.

“Of course, Sir.”

“You make her call you sir?” (Y/N) looked down at Hardy with a teasing smile, “why can’t she call you Alec?”

“I don’t like Alec,” Hardy groaned turning his head to bury his face in (Y/N)’s shirt, “never liked Alec, you know that. Don’t like it when you call me Alec either, but can’t very well stop you now can I?”

“I can call you Sir too, if you’d like?”

“Right, I should go then,” Ellie retreated, a bit awkward that (Y/N) was actually teasing her boss. No one she knew (besides herself to a way lesser degree) would ever even think about teasing Alec Hardy.

Plus, she really didn’t want to see where this teasing ended, not if it could possibly ruin her ever calling Hardy sir again. There were so few names she could actually call him, and she really didn’t want Sir to be ruined for her. “I’ll see you back at work, Sir. In a day or two.”

“A day,” Hardy replied easily. Ellie nodded, not bothering to try and get the man to stay in the hospital any longer. Not when she already knew it was a lost cause, especially if (Y/N) hadn’t been successful, “oh and Millhur?”

Ellie paused, looking back into the room to see he boss’ eyes on her, “if we can keep this between us for now? Not that it’s a secret, just--”

“Of course,” Ellie agreed instantly, “it’s yours to share when you do. I won’t say anything. Even though there’s really nothing to share.”

“Thank you.”

“You... just feel better, alright? We’ve got a killer to catch and I can’t do that without you.”

<><><><>

Thanks so much for the prompt, and for reading! Feel free to send another ask if this wasn’t what you were looking for, but hopefully it is!

Also, let me know if I messed up anywhere with male reader pronouns, I read through a couple times, but they might’ve slipped past me!

#alec hardy #alec hardy x reader #alec hardy x male reader #ellie miller #broadchurch #reader insert #writing prompt #male reader

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scullydubois · 3 years

Text

memory-bound: a revival one-shot

Set between Rm9sbG93ZXJz & My Struggle IV, Scully moves back into the Unremarkable House after her smart home burns down and returns to an age-old ritual: coloring her hair.

T, 1.8k, fluff/domestic fluff, read on ao3 here.

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

Lamp light casts shadows on the wall as Scully unpacks in a place she never thought she’d find herself again: the master bedroom she and Mulder shared for almost a decade. She lays her remaining clothes on the tribal-patterned bedspread and smirks at how little the room has changed. She expected to be put up in the guest room and was perfectly fine with that. They had rarely gotten any use out of it--she figured an inhabitant would do it some good. Imagine her shock, then, when Mulder told her he hadn’t slept in “their” room since she left. That the room was all hers.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that after a decade of a bed, he returned to what he knew upon losing what he had known. He swapped the couch he slept on for seven years for a Barcalounger. An old man needs his amenities, he joked while showing her its heat and massage functions. And she felt a gnawing in the pit of her stomach, the mark of a fool.

She salvaged what she could from the fire, but most of her Bethesda things were ruined. That soulless smart house was never worth its automated thermostat system, let alone any of its other data mines disguised as gizmos. Mulder hated it--hated it, like, wouldn’t step foot in it, and if she’s being honest, that was the only selling point for her: the shelter it offered from his incessant search for truth & his unsatisfiable conscience. This was back when she felt like that was something she needed to get away from, of course. She had wanted to settle somewhere and mean it. Now, she realizes they were settled all along.

She rests a pile of folded clothes in the crook of her arm and pulls open her old dresser. She envisioned cobwebs--maybe even a whole family of spiders--in there, but instead, a ratty New York Knicks t-shirt greets her. And a Spaceship Earth one under that, and a Wile E. Coyote one under that. Her holy trinity of Mulder t-shirts. She refused to take them when she left, though he insisted. And in protest, he hadn’t worn them. She knows this instinctively, though the lack of laundry scent confirms it. They’ve been waiting in this drawer all along, captives to Mulder’s fantasy that one day she would open it again.

Scully squeezes her eyes shut, slips the pile in next to the shirts, slams the drawer, and grabs her toiletries bag off the bed, striding into the bathroom. She can’t dwell...she can’t. She’s learned by now that regret is a state of mind that freezes her up, and there’s no being frozen, not any more.

Unzipping the bag, she lines her various products along the counter. Age-defying this, anti-aging that...sunscreen is really the only thing that’s done her any good. That, and hair dye. She keeps the others around for show.

Speaking of...she pokes at her roots, scouring the mirror for signs that yes, she could theoretically be a grandma--and she can’t say for certain that she isn’t--but to her knowledge, she’s not, and as long as no one calls her Grandma, she won’t accept the title.

She won’t accept the gray hairs, either. One day, sure, but not yet. Mulder’s not even gone gray yet, and he has years on her. She’s told him that he would look great, and that the silver fox nickname would be nothing short of perfection, but he swears that he just hasn’t lost his “natural luster” yet, that he’ll embrace the gray when (if!) it comes.

Scully’s not been so lucky, though it doesn’t show. She’s been coloring her hair every three weeks since she was twenty-eight to keep the ravishing red. She’ll never forget when Mulder realized it wasn’t her natural color...the way his eyes widened as he moved between her legs…

It’s not as if he didn’t know; her mousy auburn had been on full display when they first met, and yet he’d gotten so used to seeing her as she is that it slipped his mind that she hadn’t always been that way. And once they moved in together--in this very bathroom, actually--he loved to help her with the coloring process, was as fascinated by it as the prospect of alien-human hybrids.

She chooses the tube of Rock it Like a Redhead dye from her product line-up, looks at her reflection. It’s been five--no, six--nearing seven--years since she performed this ritual in this room. She glances down, and sure enough, the tile still bears a rust-colored stain from one of her sessions gone wrong. It makes her smile...she has a history here. They have a history here.

She sighs. For old time’s sake, she might as well...she’s found herself thinking that a lot lately.

Her old robe--her usual attire for the occasion--fell victim to the fire, but she’s got a good substitute in mind. She pads back into the bedroom and plucks the Wile E. Coyote shirt from the drawer. It’s black, hopefully that will hide any stains. Her slacks are too damn expensive to risk an accident, so she briefly considers stripping to her panties before settling on a pair of gym shorts.

Her get-up in place, she grabs a few clips from her bag and pins her hair up in four sections. This is one of the reasons she got her chop; her long hair was sexy, but it was a bitch trying to cover all those layers. Plus, Mulder is fond of “the Scully shag” as he calls it, though she corrects him every time (it’s not a shag Mulder, it’s a bob!). It reminds him of their firsts, she imagines. It’s almost as if the longer her hair got, the further apart they drifted. And once they were okay again, it was imperative that she bear her neck to him...show him the place where his lips should land.

She decides to stand in the shower (water off, of course) so any mess can be rinsed away. She wonders, suddenly, if the square mirror they used to keep is still suctioned to the glass interior. It’ll be hard to do this alone if it’s not.

She peeks in, and it’s not there, and that must be the only thing in this house Mulder has moved. Figures. She slips off her shoes and grabs the applicator and dye tube. She’ll do the best she can, then use the bathroom mirror to make any touch-ups.

Scully steps into the shower. Its characteristic lemon scent is gone, and that makes her sad. It used to be a welcome change from the antiseptic hospital smell she dealt with all day. Wielding her tools, she starts at her roots, spreading the dye along her scalp with expert precision. Surely this counts as a workout--it takes a lot of energy to hold your arms over your head for this long. Will her Fitbit calculate how many calories she’s burning, she wonders?

She’s just started a new strand when a gentle rap echoes through the wall.

“Scully?” Mulder’s voice rings from outside the bedroom. She pulled the door slightly shut when she entered.

“Come in!” she calls. “In the bathroom.”

She hears footsteps in the adjacent room, then a hesitant breath as Mulder pauses at the doorway. “Are you decent?”

Scully looks down at herself. What a picture. “I’m in a Wile E. Coyote t-shirt and gym shorts. Does that answer your question?”

Mulder shuffles in, smirking at the sight of her through the open shower door. “What are you doing?”

She points to the crown of her head--which is already well within his field of vision--so she’s not sure why he needed to ask the question.

“Well, I see that,” Mulder concedes, “but I mean, why are you hunched over in here like you’re hoping to grow a third arm?”

Scully shrugs. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“That’s just as lame as ‘boys will be boys,’ and you know it,” he counters, remembering a spirited lecture she once gave him on the misogynist undertones of the phrase. Scully smirks. They had that conversation years ago...post-William, pre-Bahamas. She’s surprised that it stuck with him.

She tilts her chin in a way that makes Mulder certain she’d have her hands on her hips if they weren’t occupied. “What do you suggest?” she challenges.

“Let me help you,” he proposes before she can launch a protest. His sneaker’s rubber sole meets the shower tile as he slips in beside her. The wall is cold against her elbow as she scoots back to make room for him.

“I’m fine. I’ve been doing this on my own for years, and I was long before you.”

“But now you have me,” he professes. “Here. Right now,” he clarifies, not meaning to label their as-yet undefined relationship status.

Their eyes meet, and Scully’s hit with the last time the two of them were in here--her legs around his waist, his hands sliding through her hair, droplets that couldn’t be placed as shower water, sweat, or tears. Her spine straightens against the very wall where she was pinned. Times change, yet they don’t. History repeats itself in a slightly different key.

“When I was younger, I did this because I liked the color,” she tells him, finishing a section and lowering her hands. “Now, I do it out of necessity. It’s sad, Mulder.” She juts her lower lip out in a faux pout. “We’re getting old.”

He would hug her, but he’d mess up her hair and it would be a whole thing. “Hey, I’ll be pushing your wheelchair with my wheelchair, remember?” he says, taking her slip into sentimentality as permission.

Scully nods, the delicate memories of years past bringing a slight frown to her face.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks, raising to her tiptoes, then lowering again. Her eyes twinkle.

“Of course.”

She offers him the tube of dye, looks up at him with a smile.

“Can you get right here?” She points to a spot right above her temple, one she could definitely reach herself if she wanted to.

Mulder admires her. His woman, back in his old t-shirt and all. He plants his lips on her temple, breathing her in. No matter what she says about aging or being old, he’ll never believe her. She is as she was back then: the only semblance of peace he’s ever known.

He pulls away to meet her gaze, his voice warm and smooth. “Is that about where you want it?”

Scully grins. “Yes, that’s perfect.”

#this might be the only revival fic i ever write & i really enjoyed it #a chance to reflect and take a trip down memory lane <3 #the x-files #txf #txf fic #mine #todayinfic

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too-gay-for-marvel · 4 years

Text

i dont need a hero

a/n: did i make a bad guy who just wants to be a bad guy? you got it babey. ive got no more excuses for my behaviour. the only excuse i have is that i will never learn, and that is the greatest talent i possess. my second greatest talent is that i refuse to proof-read any and all things. youre welcome

Request: classic enemies to lovers trope with Wanda maximoff? love your writing btw

Word Count: 1668

Warnings: swearing

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Wanda was no stranger to having enemies.

Tony Stark had been her enemy in the past. She had wanted to get rid of the Avengers at one point. Ultron, Crossbones, Secretary Ross, the list was endless. It no longer upset her to know that she had enemies in life because she knew it was part of the occupation. If she had wanted to make nice with everyone, she wouldn’t have volunteered to help Strucker.

But that also meant she knew those enemies could turn into more. And as you slept on your stomach and her fingers traced shapes over your naked back, it was just a flood of memories.

“Is that the best you’ve got, little witch?” You taunted right after deflecting another one of Wanda’s blasts. It was infuriating.

But her eyes swept over the collapsed buildings you had left behind. It reminded her of all the people you had hurt, all the destruction you had caused over the last few months. She looked back at you and started throwing everything she had with renewed anger. And it proved to be successful when she finally hit you in the chest, sending you flying into a pile of rubble.

Wanda made her way to where you were laying in the rubble, cuts and freshly formed bruises littering your skin. There was a laceration through your left brow, but the smile on your face was, once again, infuriating. When would you realise you had lost?

But you just locked eyes with her and chuckled.

“That’s much better.”

You shifted underneath her fingers, causing your muscles to stretch before relaxing once again. When your shoulder blades moved just right she could see the scars littering your skin. If the light from the moon shone through the curtains, she could see the lines on your back and arms.

Almost immediately her fingers started to trace over the slightly raised scars. She noted the way they criss crossed over the relaxed muscles in your back. The stories they told, not with words but with her own imagination.

Some of them she recognised from your tales of conquest against the X-Men, against the Avengers, against the X-Force. Those were ones you bragged about to the disappointment of Fury and Maria. Others you hadn’t outwardly talked of, but instead cried about them in your sleep. Those were the ones she spent the most time on, trying to send all of her love and support through those gentle touches.

And a few she remembered from firsthand accounts.

“Just move!”

Wanda was too transfixed by the missile heading her way to notice someone running toward her. She didn’t even know someone was nearby, which made it all the more shocking when arms wrapped around her waist. Her body tensed as her feet were lifted off the ground and she was suddenly launched off the side of the building right as the missile hit the spot where she had been standing.

Wind rushed past her ears along with something that sounded like a scream. She couldn’t tell who was screaming. The trip to the ground took only a second or two but it felt like it was never going to end. Well, it did until she forcefully met the ground. The air was knocked out of her and the person on top of her didn’t help.

“Get off me,” she grunted as she pushed the person off and sat up. Only when she was up did she notice it was you, new scratches on your face and blood dripping down your ears.

“You stupid Avengers, always in the way,” you mumbled just loud enough for Wanda to hear.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Wanda shouted, pushing herself onto her feet and watching as you did the same.

“What do you mean, what was I thinking?” You shot back. “You were the one who didn’t move!”

“I didn’t need your help.”

“You almost got hit! By a missile!”

“And yet you were the one who almost killed me!” Wanda stepped forward, her finger jabbing into your chest as she talked.

“I saved your life!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up in indignation.

“You pushed me off a building!”

“Don’t criticise me! No one else was helping!”

“I didn’t need help from some wannabe hero!”

“I’m not trying to-” you were cut off by the sound of a gun and your eyes widening. You both looked down to see a dark red spot near your hip grow larger.

You hit the ground before she could catch you.

Her index finger found the long-since-healed entrance wound on your back and she brushed over it as gently as possible. You shivered underneath her but quickly stilled. She smiled to herself at the way you had relaxed underneath her touch, but it reminded her of all the times she hadn’t managed to bring you back down to earth.

Wanda had walked in on you training. At least, she thought you were training. It looked more like you were just shooting Tony’s bots for fun, but there was no smile on your face. No, instead your brows were furrowed and the corners of your lips were turned down.

“Tony didn’t want to rebuild those so soon,” she said just loud enough for you to hear. Even though you didn’t flinch or turn, she knew you had heard by the way your frown turned more angry.

“He can kiss my ass,” you mumbled before shooting one last bot. Then you simply tossed the empty gun aside, not caring that it shattered once it hit the floor.

“Something wrong?” Wanda asked with as much sincerity as she could muster. She would never say she was your biggest fan, but she had come to tolerate you over the past few months. And to see you so… distraught. It left a weight in her chest that she didn’t know how to deal with.

She was close enough to see your jaw tighten for a moment before you turned and walked to sit against the wall, sliding down to the floor. You wrapped your arms around your knees and pulled them tight to your chest. Then your chin rested on your knees, and Wanda knew that was a look of defeat.

A look she knew all too well.

Before she gave herself time to change her mind, she walked forward and sat down next to you, crossing her legs instead. It was a more open position, she thought, and maybe it would help you feel a little more comfortable. Because if you didn’t get more comfortable soon, she felt like her chest was going to collapse.

“I never wanted to be a hero,” you said after an unbearable amount of silence. You weren’t looking at Wanda, instead keeping your eyes on the opposite wall.

She wanted to ask what you meant, but knew that it might interrupt whatever train of thought you were starting down. It never occurred to her that she could just read your mind to know what you meant. That thought never reared its ugly head. No, she had decided to just wait for you to talk it out.

“I don’t care about keeping people safe,” you started again. “I don’t care if people get hurt and it’s my fault. I’d prefer they don’t get hurt; I’m not a monster. But I don’t care to be a law-abiding citizen like the rest of you.

“But I don’t want to be a hero.”

A single beat of silence.

“And that scares me.”

“Why does it scare you?” Wanda asked, daring to break her silence in an attempt to keep you talking. She didn’t think she could fix whatever you were feeling, but maybe talking it out would help. That’s what her therapist always told her, at least.

“Because you can’t love a villain.”

“I’m sure someone can-”

“-No,” you interrupted, finally turning to look at her. “You can’t love a villain.”

She didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Had she thought of you as possibly something more? Sure, there were moments. But were you right? Could she really love a villain? Someone who got people hurt and didn’t really care, or who got themself hurt? Could she love someone like that?

“You need a hero,” you said softly, with a smile that just damn near broke Wanda’s heart.

And before she could come up with a reply, you stood up and walked away.

That was months ago. And now here you were, naked in her bed. You had slept here more than a few times recently, your newest epiphany keeping you awake through the long hours of the night. But this was the first night it had gotten serious, the first night she had admitted things that she would have otherwise kept secret.

It all happened so fast; You had come back from a mission a little dirtied up but otherwise okay. She had offered to let you use her shower to clean up. You had stripped down in the middle of her room. And the next thing she knew, she was pressed up against the wall of the shower with your hands on her hips and your lips on her neck.

“Tell me to stop,” you mumbled before leaving another kiss. “Tell me you need a hero.” Your knee slipped between her legs and she threw her head back until it rested against the wall.

“The last thing I need is a hero,” she said with a gasp as your knee pressed a little harder.

You pulled your head back just enough to look at her. There was something in your eyes, something other than lust, but she was too distracted to try and figure out what it was. Instead she grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you into a fast, sloppy kiss.

And at the memory, Wanda smiled as she felt that phantom kiss on her lips.

That kiss filled with love.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #requests #my writing

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH 16

////TW SA mentioned/hinted at/// Depiction of a panic attack as well

The hospital was a buzz with energy, which was a bit weird considering how small the town was. Were there really this many patients today? You honestly didn't know, hell for the longest time you weren't even sure this was a hospital when you moved here.

That was changed recently, like very recent. Last night in fact when you had been forced awake by medical staff trying to determine your condition. That sadist doctor of yours kept a small smile on their face the entire time you groaned about wanting sleep. They had simply tutted at you saying you needed to be monitored for several hours before they could let you rest.

Thankfully you hadn't seen them today but it was only ten thirty. A lovely nurse had been checking in with you all morning, even before you woke up. He'd come in when you had buzzed after waking up in pain and given you a dose of your medicine through your IV drip. When you questioned him about where you were he seemed to still in concern. Worried that you hadn't remembered your accident that lead you here.

After assuring him and giving him a play by play of your day yesterday, giving him the assumed day, and answering who the current president was he let you off the hook. Mark, your nurse, had been very keen to tell you the Cowell family is in charge of your care and will be here later in the day to visit with you. Granted you actually feel up to visitors. Which you take as code for 'would you like me to deny visitors?'.

You let him know you'll be fine with visits after ten. Knowing full well how fast news can travel in the small town it's only a matter of time before a parade of Hornets meander through to check in on you. First you wanted to grab your bearings before being thrown to your overly concerned friends.

Or maybe they weren't overly concerned after all you did just experience a home invasion that left you hospitalized. Simply being concerned is a natural reaction to your situation. But your head hurts just thinking about anything right now. So, you'd like to take a moment for yourself, have a bit of time to process everything.

Either way you'd been right, news travels fast in this small town. Nearly all the lodge residents had been waiting for an hour to see you when ten rolled around. At ten on the dot Aubrey, Barclay, and Jake stormed into your room and surrounded you like piranhas in a frenzy. You looked towards Dani, Hollis, Kirby, and several other lodge staff members for help only to get small smiles and a shake of the head.

They wouldn't be helping you out of this anytime soon. You just had to endure the genuine concern and affection from your friends. Luckily for your splitting head the visit only lasts thirty minutes before everyone has to leave. Life still goes on even when a loved one is in the hospital. With several promises to return tomorrow and requests that you take it easy the rambunctious group was gone.

You relax into your bed before turning on the TV and finding something mind numbing to watch. The food network works! You hope Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives is in the roll today. You're in luck as it starts playing right after the commercials.

The voice of your doctor is getting closer to your room. Great if you weren't already upset by the atrocity happening with the pizza at that restaurant then you are surely in a sour mood now.

“Well sir we hope you can reason with the child. They have simply fought us each time we've brought up the tests. We'd say it was mildly impressive that they held such coherence last night, had it not been for the headache it has given us.”

Oh here we fucking go again.

“I don't need the tests.”

No one had made it through the threshold before you spoke. Everyone froze at your cold tone. Until the doctor makes a motion towards you.

“As you can see, they're very stubborn.”

“I'm not stubborn you're just not listening to me. I haven't had sex in a year so I don't need a pregnancy test and I just got bashed around last night. I don't need an invasive search done.” You ignore the Cowell family as you speak to the doctor, “I find it concerning how keen you are to do a rape test on me even though I've repeatedly told you I just got banged up in the scuffle. Nothing more.”

The doctor still has their small smile placed just ever so on their face. There's something really off about them. Even under normal circumstances you hate hospitals and doctors. Mainly because they never listen to you about your issues, something you know would be even worse if you had 'Autistic' labeled in a medical file. But something about this doctor seriously rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps you two knew each other in previous life and it was coming back to bite you in the ass now.

“Doc, the kid says they don' need a test, then they don' need the test.” Big Jo says breaking the staring contest between you and the doctor as they slide their gaze away from you to look at Big Jo.

You take no little satisfaction from seeing their stupid smile finally leave their face. It isn't long before it's replaces and they bound over to you. Poking and prodding you, jabbing with a lot more force than they should need to. After a small adjustment to your IV they clear you for this check up and allow the Cowells to have their visit with you.

“Something's off about them.” you say cautiously after the family steps into the room.

Big Jo sighs, “Ye' but they took care 'o ya last night kid.” Ushering his family through he closes the door behind them only to turn back to you with a stern expression, “so ya better play nice with 'em got it?”

Fighting back the intense urge to roll your eyes you nod, before turning to Little Jo who's made her way over to your bedside in her hands several thick graphic novels. The same ones your store started to carry a few weeks back. Looking up from the books you see her watery and puffy eyes. What she takes from Big Jo in personality she takes from her mother in empathy.

“I-I-I yip-yip I thought yip you might get bored so I yup wanted to let you borr-yip-borrow these.”

When she places the books onto the small table beside your bed you can see the tremors that rake through her hands. Choosing not to comment or bring any attention on the tween's obvious nerves you settle for an ice breaker.

“Thanks, don't know how much more crimes against pizza I can stomach.” motioning to the TV where a man is making paper thin crust on pizza to have a pizza that cooks in a minute.

That's not pizza it's cooked cheese and tomato sauce with toppings. Not pizza at all.

Jo nods softly, her normal enthusiasm no where to be found today. A pang rips through your chest as you watch her eyes cast downwards. With no clue how to help her feel better you have to swallow the sigh in your throat to not make the air heavier than it already is. Dia and Big Jo aren't much help either when you spare them a glance.

Dia herself is wiping her eyes with a tissue and sniffles escape her every few seconds. Not much is different bout Big Jo, he may have more prominent eye bags today but you weren't going to judge him for not sleeping. Even under normal circumstances you didn't have ground to stand on. Mark mentioned Big Jo was the one who found you from what he'd over heard at the nurses' station this morning.

Knowing this made the foreboding feeling in your stomach grow. The way he's looking at you with his cold stoney stare-he's not even really looking at you more through you. But his stare pierces you and sends the pit in your stomach lower than you thought possible. If it wasn't so chilly in the room you'd probably be sweating right now.

“Dia, why don' ya take Josephine home.”

Hearing this you lift your hand up to Little Jo before she has a chance to scurry out of the room with her mother. She looks at your hand and then back to you before launching herself into you with a crushing hug. Gravity doesn't help your case as the child's entire weight is on your prone form, you hadn't sat up when they came into the room.

“Get better soon.” the pain was worth it to hear the small plea. She at least felt a little better if she could talk without her vocal tic interrupting her.

After you pat her on the back and promise to rest up she's out the door with her sobbing mother. It's a quiet few moments after the door shuts before Jo takes a step towards your bed. If the pit in your stomach went any lower you're sure you'd be able to see your insides. The hulking man takes a seat in the chair next to your bed sighing as he leans back rubbing his face.

“Tell me what happened kid.”

You relay the events of your day to him. How you and Toby had gone out of town for slushies, gotten caught in so much traffic that you felt it was a punishment from God himself. The funny feeling you had after dropping Toby off, the one that said just to go straight home. And how you had a feeling someone had just been in your home. You left nothing out about the altercation with ski mask. That wasn't saying much because you only remember the ski mask and how you tried to claw their face off. When Jo pressed you for a physical description you weren't any help. Having been too caught up in survival mode you only registered the stupid frowny face on the ski mask as being a key detail...but any fool could laser transfer a decal. And the same went for that painted mask, anyone could grab an art store face mask and block paint some black over the features.

Vaguely you recall them wearing a jacket. Had it been red, yeah like a burnt burgundy maybe? It wasn't a lot to go on and seemed to frustrate Jo even more, if the pinching of his nose was anything to go by.

“You are aware of the situation, yea?” his accent has dropped, he's speaking in a more neutral tone and inflection. This might be the most rattling moment of the week-and it's only Tuesday.

He isn't looking at you so you give a quiet 'yes sir' in response.

“Kid your car got broken into on my lot. Your home gets invaded and you get bashed around/ All this a few months after my other front end girlie disappears in the middle of the night.”

A lump forms in your throat at the mention of Bambi. You can see the pattern he's stringing together, honestly you saw it long before today. You'd just been sloppy and took too much time to gather evidence of your stalkers' existence. Bambi's disappearance wasn't voluntary and it looks like you may be next.

“Called Lydia already and we're upping the security at the cottage. Until I'm satisfied with the level of security you will be staying with us.”

“I co-cou” the lump was hard to speak around, “I can't impose like that, it's fine I'll-”

“You'll just what sleep in your car become an easier target? Go gallivanting to towns miles away where no one knows you.” his harsh words cause you to sputter, “For Christ's sake YN we don't know who we're dealing with right now!”

You don't make eye contact with Jo. You can't make eye contact he's raised his voice. You're lucky you're laying down or else you'd be rocking back and forth right now.

“Unless you have a clue who's out there and the police catch them, this decision is final. This isn't up for debate YN.” he finishes harshly

Even though he's finished you still can't look at him, your nerves are so shot and all you can do is bite your lip.

“Look I...I'd feel a lot more comfortable knowing you weren't out on your own while this gets handled. Josephine looks up to ya like an older sibling, she'd be crushed if you ended up like Bambi. Same goes for Dia. And I don't want that for my girls.” he says softly, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

With that Jo leaves you in the room after informing you that they'd be back to check you out of the hospital tomorrow. And that you could expect a visit from Sheriff Owens at some point before then.

Even after Jo leaves it feels like someone has your heart in a vice. And every few beats they squeeze it, constricting the flow of freshly oxidized blood to your body. For good measure they try to yank the organ straight from your chest cavity but just end up bruising your rib cage.

Oh God you can't breathe, you're trying but you can't tell if you are or aren't anymore. The beeping of you heart monitor is increasing with each second. It's annoying ringing is too much and you need to rip the cords from you immediately. That just makes the ringing worse as it flat lines not finding any beating or rhythm under your skin.

Soon you're swarmed with a team of nurses trying to settle you down in your panic induced haze. Their grabbing hands and forceful touches burn your skin and light a fire that travels through your veins; and only serves to make you thrash more. Taking a swing at the nurse who holds a needle you continue your struggle against the other bodies holding you down as she stumbles away.

A few nurses rush in from the door to help her, not that you notice.

So many of the sounds are merging together and you can't understand anything. From the shrill beep of the heart monitor, the voices calling out at various pitches, footsteps. Everything forms into one gigantic frantic pitch in your already fried mind.

A growl rips through the room, you can feel the vibration of it all over you. Did that come from you?

In an instant all hands are off of your panting form and just before you can sit up a deep pressure is applied to your torso. Warmth seeps into you as the pressure lowers itself onto your body. Effectively ending your meltdown and lulling you into a dissociative state.

Floating is the only way you can describe it. The sensation of weightlessness and a gentle rocking caused by the adrenaline trying to defuse itself back into the body. Or the foggy haze that clouds your mind as you try to remember what just happened. Trying to rational the series of events and this outcome. But nothing comes to you except more brain fog. A confusing storm of frustration and vulnerability hits you. And you are left powerless to do anything. You can't kick your legs or scream as much as you want to.

The weight on top of you is forcing a calm to wash over you while the emotions inside wish to break free like a whirlwind. Your distress kick starting the whirlwind back up again only to die like a camp fire in a thunderstorm when you can't get any sort of momentum to your tantrum.

You can only loose yourself to the fogginess drifting further away from your psychical body. Completely unaware of the world around you as it washes away into nothingness.

When the floating feeling finally lifts you have to blink to shake off the remaining stupor. You're able to tell there is still a heavy weight on top of you but also something holding down your left hand. You turn away from the wall that you've been staring blankly at for hours, if your sore neck is anything to go by, and see Connor perking up at your movement.

“Hey bud,” you raise a hand to ruffle his ear and he lays his big head back onto your chest. “hey Tobes.” voice cracking as you greet the man you assume is holding your hand in a death grip, not once looking up from Connor.

There's a tight squeeze on your hand and you have to close your eyes and take a minute to collect yourself before turning to face him. The last thing you remember before drifting off was a group of nurses trying to sedate you. Having no clue what went on after that and when Toby came in you're preparing for the worst. Finally facing him you pause when you make eye contact.

“Jesus! What happened to-to-to you!?”

When you'd last seen him you'd dropped Toby off in the same shape you got him. Now he's sporting a heavily swollen black eye, one that looks pretty bade considering his nose bridge is also swelling a bit. It almost looks like it's pulsing. The dark purple bruise and deep red bleeding from under it to spread away from the injury is such a drastic contrast to his weirdly grayish complexion. You aren't sure if the black eye is actually that bad or if it just looks that way due to Toby's lack of melanin.

“Tim and I got into a fight.” his one good eye cuts to the side, “Barkclay had to split us up. Drove me here to get it checked out, it's fine.” He's dismissing it, they probably can't figure out if his eye really is fine right now, since he can't feel pain and that thing looks tightly swollen shut.

“Barclay.” is the only thing you can manage to say. Your brain wasn't prepared for most things right now and it's having trouble processing the gnarly injury mixed with complete nonchalance.

His lips pull back into a smile and not one you've seen from him before. Sure you've pulled a couple genuine mirth filled smiles out of him, or seen his teasing smirks, or bashful shy smiles when you've been out with others. But this smile, if you could even call it that-it was more like he was barring his teeth. Toby looked ready for another fight or like he was a feral predator about to rip out it's prey's jugular. There's a brief flash of a image that pops into your mind's eye, one of Toby's bloodstained face with this exact expression, teeth soaked red with blood and chunks of flesh in between . A chill runs through you at the thought. Had Connor not been laying on top of you, you would have shivered.

The instant you squeeze Toby's hand, the smile wipes off his face and he stares down at your interlocked hands. He returns the gesture before bringing his other hand over. Looking up at you through his eyelashes he flips your hand and when your expression doesn't change and you don't pull away he begins to play with your fingers.

“What was the fight about?”

“I don't have to answer that.” his tone is short and clipped.

You don't press the subject, obviously Toby doesn't want to talk about it. And you're fine with that, anyway if the fight was bad enough for Barclay to need to break it up and he drove Toby here you can assume Tim instigated and is probably getting kicked back out into the RV with no AC. As bad as it sounds you could care less. Toby's your friend not Tim, you only care if Toby's ok and while he may have a very fucked up eye in the future, right now he seems like normal Toby. A bit more irritated and on edge but that's normal after a stressful day. Hell you punched a nurse a few hours ago.

“What happened to you?”

There's a small part of you that wants to sass Toby, that you don't have to answer that. Thankfully the rational side reminds you that fight with a roommate is very different than having been beaten in a home invasion. Once again retelling your story but this time starting after you dropped Toby off. No need in going into as much detail as you went into with Jo or how much you'll need to go into with the sheriff. Toby's hands would grip yours tightly throughout your recounting. It's one of the reasons you didn't go into a ton of detail. Understanding your friend is barely holding on by a string on his good days you aren't about to load your stress along with his already eventful day.

“You can't stay there alone.” he says after you finish the recap.

“Uh duh? Like Jo's already ordered me under house arrest at his house.”

It's like the tension leaks out of him like air leaving a balloon with the way he deflates after you say that. His grip loosens on you hand and he goes back to idly playing with your fingers.

“Good...that's good.” he nods to himself.

In the silence of this hospital room with his service dog on you instead of attending to his clear anxiety ridden form, you realize Toby's a lot more caring than his exterior lets on. The brunette might not wear his heart on his sleeve but it's easy to see it once you know what you're looking for. In this moment as battered and bruised as he is, even the potential possibility of loosing function in his left eye, he's more concerned with you. Whether it's low self worth or just how he treats friends you'll have to find out later.

“Hey...Tobias, I'm here y'know?” you start to sit up waving off a pecking Connor. Once you're far enough up you retract from Toby's grip, which he does fight you on a little. And you reach out further to his bicep, you can't quite reach his shoulder in this position.

“I'm ok Tobes, I'm here.” for some reason 'Tobias' doesn't sound right for this moment.

Toby doesn't give much of a reaction which is fine since you weren't really expecting one. He places his hand over yours for a moment before bringing it back into his grip and fixates on playing with your fingers once again.

With a smile you go to pet Connor with you free hand, hoping Toby might shake himself out of this funk. After a bit of petting you grow restless with the lack of stimulation and ask Toby to pass you on of the graphic novels Little Jo left for you.

It's easier than you thought reading with one hand would be, especially since you can prop the book on Connor who doesn't seem to mind. Pup is resting across your legs now that both humans in the room are stable enough to function without his intervention.

When you finish the first book Toby speaks up, eye still focused on your hand in his. And you find out that although the series isn't his normal thing he did enjoy the art style and a few of the jokes. He waits for you to finish each book before talking more about them and the arc of the story they laid out. Opening up for the two of you to have a nice discussion on the fantasy game based series. It's honestly so much fun for you, where you lack in background awareness Toby is quick to fill you in and point out little ques the writers and artist dropped. In return you're right there explaining character motives and the subtle looks of a character's eyes.

It's a fun few hours before visiting hours are over. And Toby paused at the door before he left, he looked like he wanted to say something but held back. Just as he turned to leave you call out.

“Get home safe.” it's normally his line but you aren't going anywhere tonight.

“I will....get well soon. I'll see ya later.”

There's that awkward smile! You can barely contain the beaming one you sent him before he left. Despite being hospitalized for injuries sustained by a home invasion from your potential stalker...well plural now, you've had a pretty great day.

Fuck that sounds so bad. Should you feel guilty about forgetting your messed up circumstances? No, no everything is getting sorted out. If anything this is going along with your plans for Big Jo to help you out. This was more than enough evidence to prove that you aren't just paranoid. And you're about to have a safe place to hang while this all gets settled.

The fact that you got injured is less than ideal but this is what you get for being sloppy and unfocused.

You have a lot of faith in your boss, you know this will be dealt with. Thinking back to everyone who came to see you today...you just hope everyone can be as confident as you are that this will all end soon.

#a cure for insomnia #ticci toby #ticcitoby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #tobias erin rogers #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #Brian Thomas #brian thomas x reader #masky x reader #creepypasta fanfic

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