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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

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jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

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babybuckleys · 4 years

Text

In Jail & Needing Bail.

Drew & Rudy x Reader. (just friends but a bit flirtier with Drew.)

Summary: Hanging out with the outer banks cast was always eventful but you didn't expect to be in a jail cell with two of your closest friends.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: trespassing, smoking, a few bad words.

A/N: this is my first fic with no relationship and the most warnings so bare with me. But the boys look so hot in handcuffs. Also I do not know anything about prison. This is my first fic on here, hope you like it. (I guess this means im open to requests.)

Nothing was supposed to happen, you guys were just supposed to be having a good time . Now you were sitting in a jail cell with Drew and Rudy. Now if we back up a few hours to where it all started this would all make sense.

You were all sitting in Chase’s apartment and were starting to get bored. Earlier in the day everyone had come over and you guys had a movie marathon day. But now as it was starting to reach around 10pm and people were starting to get antsy. LA usually was very awake at 10pm, people at restaurants and just walking around the city. So when Madison suggested that you guys go explore the city everyone agreed. Anything to get out of the stuffy apartment.

As you headed into town someone through the bunch of your friends suggested first you should grab a bite to eat. Food was important if you wanted to last the night so a bunch of murmurs were heard throughout the crowd. After finishing up, you guys headed on a walk to wherever your feet would take you.

LA had many different sides to it. There was the jam packed side overflowing with people and places. Then there was the sketichier side of LA. The side where it was darker and there were less open shops and buildings. As you and your friends headed to the darker side of LA you huddled closer together. Still laughing and having a good time together. As you headed forward, your group of friends came to a halt. You lost your balance a little since you were towards the back and it was an unexpected stop. Everyone looked forward to see what was up.

“Shit look guys.” Chase said. Everyone followed his gaze to an abandoned house in the middle of the street.

“How about we sneak in, we got nothing to lose.” Austin spoke out.

“I don't think that a good idea, it's kind of scary.” Madelyn said.

“Yeah I agree” Madison and you said.

“Come on, let's live a little.” Drew said as he bumped your shoulder with you. Drew was your best friend, also as was Rudy. So usually when you guys told each other stuff to do, you guys did it no matter the circumstance.

“Sure, why not.” you told him, what you did for and with your best friends you thought as you shook your head.

The boys headed in first and you girls stuck behind. What a great way to be spending a night in LA with your friends. In an abandoned house at midnight. You weren't one to break the rules so when you didn't see any sign about no trespassing you though it was ok. At first it was kind of scary but after the eerie feeling went away you decided to walk around and explore. Some of your friends even thought it was a perfect time to record it for their Instagram stories. You headed one way by yourself as your friends all headed separate ways. You turned on the flashlight on your phone and tried not to be too scared. As you were walking more you heard creaking but thought that maybe they were just your steps.

“Boo.” Drew grabbed your shoulders and whispered in your ear. You screamed and dropped your phone. You heard the scatter of your friends footsteps as they ran to the source of the screaming.

“You're an ass for doing that, you know that.” you told Drew as you shoved him.

“But you love me.” he said as he wrapped your arms around you.

“Y/N, you ok?” asked Madison, searching for your voice in the pitch black building. Out of the two girls you were always closer to her, and talked to her when you couldn't talk to the two boys. Soon they all reached you and Drew.

“Yeah I am, someone just decided to be childish and scare me.” you told her. Soon you all explored together. For the next thirty minutes you walked around. It started to get around 1:30am and Jonathan started to yawn. You knew that it was about time to head out since it was getting late and you guys were getting tired.

As the rest of your friends headed out, you stayed behind to tie your shoe. Rudy stayed behind so you wouldn't be alone. As you got up from tying your shoe, you felt around your pockets for your phone.

“My phone, shit where's my phone.” you said as you frantically searched your clothing pockets.

“How about we retrace your steps, when was the last time you had it?”

“Uhm I think it was when Drew scared me.” you thought as you remembered that when you guys were upstairs you must have dropped it. As you guys were headed upstairs Drew headed in to see what was taking so long.

“Hey guys y'all aren't doing any funny business.” Drew said as he walked in with his hands over his hands.

“Shut up Starkey, we aren't even dating.” you said as you looked at him. You were best friends with both boys but always tended to be a bit more flirty with Drew, but of course would never date any of them, because you liked how your friendship worked.

“Ok then what's taking so long.” he said in an exasperated tone.

“I lost my phone and don't know where it is. Can you help us find it?”

“But we gotta hurry up cause this place is giving me the creeps.” Drew said hugging his hands to himself.

You guys laughed as all three of you headed up stairs to the last spot you were at. While you were looking, your other friends were outside.

Currently waiting for the rest of you to come out. “What's taking them so long, it's getting cold.” Madelyn said.

“Maybe someone should go check on them.” suggested Madison. As your friends played rock,paper, scissors to decide who would go in; they saw police lights in the distance.

“Shit are they coming this way?” Chase asked.

“Nah I don't think so, maybe it's a coincidence.” said Austin. As your friends continued on waiting for you they heard the speaker of the police car.

“Hands up where I can see them.” said the police officer through the megaphone.

“Shit , shit, run.” said Jonathon.

“Shouldn't we wait for them or at least warn them.” Madison said worried about the rest of her friends.

“I don't think that's a good idea, our best bet right now is to run or else we’re going to get arrested,” Chase said. Your friends ran as fast as they could as you guys inside headed back downstairs.

You headed outside and the first thing you heard was “hands on your head and step out carefully.” You couldn't believe you were about to get arrested and where were your other friends? Nowhere to be seen.

“No fucking way.” Rudy said.

As you stepped down towards the cops they handcuffed you all a bit too roughly. “Anything you say will be held against you.” he said as he put all of you in the back of the cop car. As you started to drive off Drew spoke up.

“I guess it's time to take a ride downtown.” You just shook your head as you buried your head into your hands. Rudy put a hand on your leg to ease the tension. You could not believe you had just gotten arrested for trespassing with your two best friends.

As you were put into a cell all you could think about was how this was crazy. Drew and Rudy were handcuffed together in one corner and you were in the other. You werent gonna lie, your two best friends were attractive but something about them handcuffed together just sparked something in you.

“I don't understand why we have to be handcuffed, it's not like we are going to fight each other.”

“Well I got to say it's pretty hot that you too are handcuffed.” you didn't know where you got this new source of confidence and you were kind of shocked.

“Damn Y/N, jail is turning you wild.” Drew said. You looked down blushing and ignored his comment. Rudy was becoming stressed, you could tell because first he was shaking his leg up and down. Next he did something that he only did when he was stressed, he pulled out a cigarette.

He started smoking it and offered Drew one too. “You want one Y/N?” he asked.

“No thanks Pankow, two people smoking in here is enough.” You weren't a fan of smoking but again something about your friends in handcuffs and smoking was so hot. You sat in a corner and hoped that you could get out of this soon. Because you didn't think that you could last much longer in here with your friends looking that hot, barely doing anything and you not doing anything stupid. The officer came in a bit later and said that you guys can call someone.

“You guys get one call, make it worth it,” he said in a grumpy voice.

“What the hell, why do we only get one call if there are three of us.” Drew questioned.

“Watch you tone.” the officer said. You grabbed his arm and looked at him in reassurance to not say anything else. “Hey it's ok, they'll answer.” You really hoped your friends answered. You weren't sure what time it was but you decided that your best bet was calling Madison, she had always been there for you so you hoped this was the case.

You punched in her number and after three rings there was static on the other end.

“Hello, Madi, Are you there? Please tell me you're there.” you said trying not to break down in front of your friends.

“Y/N oh my god, are you guys ok, I'm sorry we couldn't stay back.” she said. You knew that they couldn't stay back because instead of three being arrested it would be eight.

“Oh god Madi, I don't know how long I could be in here with them.” you told her suggesting the fact about how they were looking so hot.

“Why? Are they being gross? Have they posted bail for you guys.” you knew you couldn't tell her with the boys around so you suggested to them that they go ask the officer how much your guys bail was set at. When Drew stayed behind you spoke up.

“Can you both go, I have to tell Madison something.” you looked at him pleadingly. He shook his head and jogged up to catch Rudy.

“Gosh Madison I don't know, it's just something about them in handcuffs and smoking that's so hot.” you exasperated to the brown haired girl.

“Damn seems like someone has a crush on two guys and has a kink, I thought you hated smoking” said Madison laughing of her best friend in a joking way.

“Don't say it so loud. They're attractive guys but just my best friends that's it. Now shh they're coming back. “ Y/N said as she turned around and saw both boys heading her way.

“He said the bail is set at $500.” Rudy said.

“Did you hear that Madison?” Y/N told her friend on the other line.

“Yeah I just told the others. Hang in there, We will try to get you guys out soon.” She said as there was shuffling on the other end then and the line ended.

“Ok they said that they'll try to get the money as soon as possible, I guess we just have to wait.” You sulked back to the jail cell sleepily. You closed your eyes and laid your head on Drew's shoulder. About what seemed like a few hours later the jiggling of keys startled you awake.

“Someone here to bail you out, come on get up.” the officer said. You and your friends headed out of the cell sleepily. As you headed out of the police station you noticed as the sun was rising. You saw your friends leaning against Chase’s car. You all pulled each other into a hug.

“What a night we had.” Austin said.

“You're not the one who got arrested” you said looking at him with a serious face.

“Yeah man it was your idea and you didn't even have to be in a cell for god knows how many hours.” Rudy said.

“Well it's now 7 in the morning so you guys were in there for about five hours, sorry it took us so long to get the money.” Madelyn said.

“It's all good, what matters now is that we are out and that we should get some food cause I am starving.” Drew sighed.

“I agree with that statement, let's go get some food.” you said. You had an eventful night that you never expected would happen but now you were glad it was winding down with your friends and food.

taglist: @heartbreak-hemmings (thank you for helping me with the title), @thelocalpogue, @outrbank, @jayjaymaebank, @beautyandthebleh, @ceruleanjj, @pogue-style, @shawnssongs, @flowersinvegas, @baby-bearie, @myrandom-fandomlife, @calumbroutledge, @bellaguarneri.

327 notes · View notes

samanthadalton · 4 years

Text

Star crossed lovers (au) part 4

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

in this chapter specifically there are mentions of guns too

reader discretion is advised

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth

(i just wanted to thank you guys for your patience with this fic because i know im not the most consistent with my posting so thank you for reading, also i’ll fix any errors later on)

word count: 4.9k

part 1: part 2: part 3:

Never bring a knife to a gun fight

Rumours of Poppy’s outburst at volleyball practice began to spread like wildfire, students all around Belvoire gossiped about the intentions behind the strawberry blonde’s confrontation.

Some of the stories fabricated insinuated that Bea threatened Poppy to counter her friends’ behaviour, while others believed that Poppy was simply doing some charity work by helping Belvoire’s least fortunate. Not one of the rumours came close to the truth, that the girls were just simply in love.

Saturday rolls over quickly and Poppy’s in her bedroom with Veronica sprawled out on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, while Poppy lays on the other side of her. Chloe however, awkwardly sits on the edge of the bed, ostensibly feeling apprehensive about being in the same room as Poppy as she reels in from her last one on one confrontation with the strawberry blonde.

The two girls laying down, engage in idle chit chat until they’re pulled out of their conversation when the dumb blonde lets out a small cough capturing their attention.

“So.. are you sure you can’t ditch your dinner plans and come to the party?” She anxiously places some of her hair behind her ear, as she meets Poppy’s gaze but the blue-eyed girl holds the eye contact, determined to mitigate some of the awkwardness from the room since she’s barely spoken more than 10 words to the strawberry blonde since Thursday.

Poppy and Veronica share a look, the unspoken words covertly communicating their plan to go to the party in the south, but the two girls remain silent, avoiding the question. Chloe stares at the two girls, oblivious to what the shared look actually means, and when her question remains unanswered she opens her mouth to ask again until Poppy clears her throat slightly and sighs, “I told you Chlo, it’s a work dinner, we don’t have a choice, our parents are forcing us to be there.”

“Yeah but you could I dont know, speak to your dad? I’m sure he would understand”

‘I’m a Min Sinclair, I can’t pick and choose what dinners I can and can’t go to, it doesn’t work like that,” Poppy adds a bit of sterness to her tone hoping the dumb blonde would get the point and leave it alone but Chloe’s infuriating relentlessness compels her to keep cracking down on the strawberry blonde, inclined to make her change her mind. She drags her body from the edge of the bed to the middle, and perches herself on her knees as she faces the two girls, “the party won’t be as fun without you guys there”.

Poppy lips move to an imperceptible frown as her mind and heart begin to battle over whose party she should go to tonight. While she promised Bea she would go to the party tonight, Chloe was acting suspiciously clingy and things between the two girls were still fragile. Warily watching the strawberry blonde lost in speculation, Veronica intercepts before Poppy can come up with an answer, “have you met her dad Chloe? There’s no way Mr Min Sinclair will let us miss the dinner for a party, don’t be stupid”

Veronica’s cutthroat tone is enough for the dumb blonde to stop pushing and she purses her lips in retort. Veronica almost feels bad so she adds, “but I agree, the party is gonna be dead without the two of us there” she smiles and slightly nudges Poppy with her shoulder hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness. However to her dismay, the atmosphere slips back to being awkward and the girls reside in the uncomfortable silence that follows until Poppy’s phone begins to chirp with messages. She apprehensively picks up her phone but can’t help the smile on her face when she sees Bea’s name pop up on her screen.

B 💖

Hey beautiful, can’t wait to see you at the party tonight

Zoey’s looking forward to seeing Veronica tonight but don’t tell her I told you that otherwise she’ll kill me

Also can’t wait to see what you’re gonna wear tonight 👀🥵

After reading the series of texts from Bea, Poppy’s practically grinning like a Cheshire cat as she types out her response, her attention shifts solely focusing on the brunette and she mentally reprimands herself for doubting which party she should go to, since the choice is undoubtedly clear.

Past memories of her going to parties with Bea surges through her mind and she revels in the memory of her first ever southside party. She recollects how nervous Bea was as the 15 year old girls made their way to the drinks table and Bea accidentally spilled her drink on Poppy’s top, after having a couple of beers beforehand, and Poppy teased what a lightweight she was. Bea’s face practically reddened with embarrassment as she offered her girlfriend to wear her hoodie to cover the drink stain, while she walked around the party in her tank top and caught a cold the next day. It was the small moments like that that made Poppy appreciative of Bea’s kindness and thoughtfulness and reminded the strawberry blonde exactly why she loves her. While reminiscing about the past, Poppy’s practically pulled from her thoughts when Chloe taps her leg, frowning.

‘Who are you uh talking to Poppy?”

Poppy visibly stiffens and turns off her phone, her mouth begins to feel dry as her brain goes into overdrive trying to come up with an authentic lie. “Just uhh going through my insta dms, the amount of creativity these creeps have is hilarious”

Chloe gawks at Poppy, not entirely convinced but she nods in response, not wanting to press the matter further. Veronica quickly sits up, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she stares at the time on her phone, “Crap, I gotta go and edit my video so I can upload it tonight”, she gets up to grab her bag and Chloe uses the opportunity to leave with Veronica as she knows that her and Poppy are yet to still be on normal speaking terms. After a few goodbye hugs and a promise from Veronica that she’ll see the strawberry blonde tonight, Poppy walks them down to the front door and watches the girls leave.

Just as she’s about to head about to her room, a voice booms out from the living room, Poppy freezes mid-step on the stairs and internally sighs, ‘crap’ she thinks to herself, her dad’s home.

“Poppy, come over here for a second”, Poppy mentally braces herself and holds her head up high, keeps her posture straight and walks into the living room to see her father sitting on his favourite chair and a stack of documents on the table beside him.

“Hi daddy”, she places a sweet kiss on his cheek and he makes a gesture for her to sit opposite him on the sofa. He places his hand on the frame of his glasses and takes it off and begins rubbing at the glass with the hem of his shirt before placing it back on his face.

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week princess, how was your first week as a senior?”

Poppy usually gets nervous when speaking with her father about any aspect of her life really, because he isn’t always the most affectionate or warming person. She purses her lips together in thought before answering, “It was good daddy, I’m in a lot of the AP classes so I’ve been making sure I stay on track for what’s expected for the classes”.

Her father beams at her response and slaps his hand against his knee, “that’s my girl”, but his expression quickly sobers as he fixates his gaze on the blonde, “so, you didn’t run into any problems this week?” His tone is almost intimidating and suggestive as Poppy subtly sinks into the sofa a little, her thoughts beginning to run wild as she struggles to grasp at her father’s implication.

“Uh no, not really dad”

“Huh, I heard that friend of yours, Chloe? She had a fight with that Hughes girl on the first day back. You wouldn’t be foolish enough to indulge in something so trivial would you now?”

Poppy clings to the edge of the sofa with a deathly drip, knuckles turning white at the mention of Bea but she lifts her body slightly in an attempt to show her father she isn’t fazed by her name and clears her throat slightly, “no dad, Chloe thought it would be a funny joke but I ended up getting detention for just being in the courtyard.” She begins to shake her head a little, “I would never involve myself in something so ludacris” she exaggeratingly rolls her eyes and fidgets with her perfectly manicured nails, soliciting her lack of interest in the topic.

Her father gleams at her with a hint of satisfaction, and curtly nods his head at her before swiftly changing the subject. “Rita, tells me you’re planning to go to a party tonight?”

“Umm, yeah, just a celebration party at Ford’s house, his parents know about it and- ”

Hayden Min Sinclair raises his hand in the air and the words die out of Poppy’s mouth as she awaits for her dad to speak, “just be safe, and make sure you’re home before 12, just call Carter if you find yourself in need of a ride home”. Of course, Mr Min Sinclair would never offer to pick up his daughter himself, he knows that his daughter should be less dependent on him and should be able to fare for herself. Poppy briskly nods and moves to stand, “Well daddy, I should let you get back to your work”, she gives him a polite smile and moves towards her room, letting out a huge exhale as she closes her bedroom door. She hates hiding things from her father, but he makes it impossible for her to confide in him at all, it’s times like these where she wishes her mother was still here.

……

Bea spends her afternoon alone after dropping her sister off at her friend’s house for the weekend and worries about her mom being AWOL and has concerns when she doesn’t pick up her phone. It isn’t until the late afternoon her mom casually strolls through the front door, her makeup has practically vanished, with only a few remnants of it smudged across her face. She moves towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water until Bea’s stomps towards the kitchen with a scowl etched onto her face as she pulls Isabella away from the sink to face her.

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling and texting non-stop” Bea raises her voice and points accusatively at her mother who in response blanky rolls her eyes at Bea and moves towards the cupboards scrounging for some food. Bea’s blood begins to boil as she balls her hands up into fists, her knuckles turning white, she pushes her mom against the counter and lifts her face up to look into her eyes, “You’re fucking high aren’t you?”. She takes in her mom’s features, seeing her incredibly red eyes and her chapped lips, and her slightly slanted demeanour.

“Get the fuck off me” Isabella pushes Bea away from her, “last I remembered I’m the fucking parent here”

“Then act like it!” Bea screams at the top of her lungs, her breaths heavy, her tone enraged as she stares down at her mother, “I have better things to do than to worry about where you are or whether you’re laying dead in a ditch somewhere”

Isabella just places her hands on her head, trying to dull the noise sprouting from Bea’s mouth, “God, you’re hurting my head” she sniffles and simply grabs a packet of chips from the cupboard and a bottle of vodka from under the sink and retreats to her room without saying another word.

Bea chest heaves heavily, she has no idea what to do about her mother, sometimes she wishes that she wasn’t there, then maybe she would have less to worry about. She could be a normal teenager with normal problems, instead of constantly babying her mother and being a second mom to her sister, but she remembers that she should be lucky to have a mom, no matter how shitty she might be. Her phone in her pocket buzzes and she grimaces a little when she sees the text from Poppy

P💋

hey babe

V and I decided to go to Ford’s party just for a little bit

Just to make a few quick introductions but we’ll be in and out of the party

Can’t wait to see you 🥺

Bea feels a tiny pang in her heart but at least Poppy wasn’t going to completely ditch her for the night. She hoped that tonight would be just about them, that for once Poppy would let go off all expectations and just focus on herself. But Bea knew Poppy carried the world on her shoulders, that being a Min Sinclair meant that she had to sacrifice a lot, but sometimes Bea felt like she was the only thing being sacrificed, that she was the only thing that could easily be cut off. She types out a half-hearted reply to Poppy, something along the lines of ‘can’t wait to see you too’ and with that she grabs her jacket, turns around to catch a quick glance at her mother’s closed bedroom door and leaves for the party.

……

Poppy and Veronica are walking towards Ford’s house, the faint thumping of bass music echoes throughout the neighbourhood while the girls are fixated on their hair and outfits as they walk towards the front yard. Both of the girls are wearing smart suits, to make their lie about going to a company dinner more compelling. They leave their real party outfits in the back of Veronica’s car which is parked a couple of blocks away from the house and before they enter the house Poppy grabs Veronica’s hand.

“I told Bea that we will be in and out of the house, so let’s not waste any time. We just say a few hellos and then we go” she flips her hair throwing it back over her shoulder while Veronica rolls her eyes.

“Hey you’re the one who decided to stop by Ford’s party, I would rather be in the southside partying it up there.”

Poppy piercingly shushes Veronica, and in one swift move places her hand over the ombre-haired girl’s mouth, “Are you trying to expose us or something? Don’t mention the” she conspicuously u looks around and whispers, “don’t mention the southside here”

Veronica pulls Poppy’s hand from her mouth and exaggeratingly shudders while shaking her hands, “Oh no, I forgot the southside is like Voldemort we don’t speak of it” sarcasm dripping off every word she says.

Before Poppy can answer, a series of screams reverberates from inside the house and a few seconds later, Poppy and Veronica are engulfed in a huge bear hug from Chloe, “Oh my god, you guys made it”, she screams enthusiastically while jumping up and down in her spot clapping her hands together.

Veronica sticks her fingers in her ears are glares at Chloe, “chill Chloe, you’re gonna burst my eardrums”

Poppy laughs and playfully slaps Veronica on the arm and turns back to face the dumb blonde, “We’re just passing by, just because we have to go to a stuffy work dinner doesn’t mean we have to show up on time”

Chloe grabs the two girls by the arms and pulls them into the foyer where they’re greeted by more of their peers. Ford is already half naked with a red solo cup in his hand and he waves the girls over before offering them a drink which the two girls politely decline.

“Oh come on, one drink won’t kill you”

“We said we’re good” Veronica’s tone is cutthroat causing Ford to back off and resume his strip pong game.

“Ayyyyyy there are my two favourite girls” Carter slurs his words slightly and slinks an arm over each girl’s shoulders and migrates the girl’s to the back of the living room where the speakers are playing. “I thought Chloe said you guys aren’t coming? You change your mind Pops?” he flirtatiously raises an eyebrow at Poppy who playfully pushes him back in return.

“No we still have to go to the dinner” she gestures at her suit, “we just wanted to say hi real quick”

Chloe ambles towards the girl’s and grabs Veronica’s hand and pulls her to the dance floor without waiting for the ombre-haired girl to refuse, leaving Poppy and Carter alone.

“So… do you really have to go? I mean you could have a lot more fun if you stayed” he takes a careful step towards the strawberry blonde, closing the distance between the two as he leans in to whisper in her ear, “we could play strip pong”, he leans back a little to stare into Poppy’s eyes.

Poppy lets out a small awkward laugh, “um, as much fun as that sounds, Veronica and I really should get going. I don’t wanna piss off my dad” she takes a step back from the quarterback and wraps her arms around herself.

Carter gives Poppy a long unwavering look, one she fully couldn’t dissect and understand, but he breaks the silence, “well, I hope you have fun, Chloe was worried you were ditching us for someone else”

“Yeah, my dad’s business partners. Because work talk is absolutely riveting and exactly how I wanna spend my saturday nights” her voice brimming with sarcasm as she gives Carter a quick hug goodbye and grabs Veronica and pulls her out of the house after making a few more rounds with the rest of the students of Belvoire.

…….

“This is a party, loosen up a little” Zoey rolls her eyes and hands Bea a red plastic cup, before taking a small sip from hers, “don’t tell me the princess of Greensburg decided to not show up”

Bea lighthearted rolls her eyes and takes a huge swig of her cup, “she said she’s coming, okay? She’s just saying a quick hi to her friends”

“Yeah sure, because she would rather hang out with the people at the bottom of the food chain than preppy rich kids who can probably afford a better sound system and drinks than this”

“Oh hush, you’re just in a sour mood because Veronica isn’t here yet” Zoey pinches Bea on her arm, “ow ow, okay, it doesn’t make it any less true though. I mean you practically begged me to invite her”

“Shut up. I don’t care if she’s here or not. But let's just say I’ve been doing a lot of wishful thinking and I’m wearing my best bra tonight” she gives Bea a sly wink who just laughs. “So,, I still can’t believe you let Poppy off that easily after the shit that happened on monday”

Bea stiffens a little, her expression quickly sobering as she turns to face Zoey, “look, we spoke about it and we’re moving past it. I told her she isn’t exactly out of the dog house but I’m not gonna sit here and wallow about it. What’s done is done” she gives Zoey a fixed look, meaning that she was done talking about it and Zoey raises her hands in defence

“Maybe if you let me beat Chloe’s ass then I would let Poppy off” Bea playfully shoves Zoey with her shoulder, “only if I can join you”, the two girls laugh until Zoey catches Bea staring into the inside of her cup, her eyes barren. “Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. It just pisses me off that those entitled bitches think they can do shit like that”

Bea solemnly shakes her head, “well, it’s Isabella’s fault to be honest. Everywhere I go, it’s like I’m haunted by her past and all the shit she’s done. Like they all expect me to become a deadbeat like her”

Zoey empathetically rubs Bea’s back, as the brunette clenches her jaw slightly to stop her lips from quivering, and she blinks back the tears forming in her eyes before letting out a sad laugh, “God, you just told me to lighten up and I just made this entire atmosphere depressing”

“Bitch, who cares? You’re my best friend, you know you can talk to me about anything, anytime” she gives Bea a one armed hug while balancing her drink and when the hug breaks off she drains the rest of her cup. “Do you want another drink?” Bea shakes her head and Zoey flounces off to grab another drink. Bea bops her head along to the music until a pair of hands cover her eyes from behind her, and a soft voice whispers in her ear, “guess who?”

Bea grins and delicately removes the hands from her eyes and turns around to see Poppy in her skin tight pink dress and moves in to give a long lingering kiss. “You finally made it” she kisses the strawberry blonde again before realising Veronica is standing behind Poppy with her arms crossed waiting as her eyes move to scan the backyard. “Hey Veronica, if you’re looking for Zoey she went inside a few minutes ago to get a drink” Veronica nonchalantly raises an eyebrow and looks towards the house, “well, I’m suddenly feeling parched, I’ll see you girls later” she gives them a wink and struts towards the house.

Poppy laughs while shaking her head but stops when she sees Bea appraising her, looking at her up and down with lust in her eyes. Poppy gives Bea her signature smirk and does a small twirl for the brunette, “so you like what you see?”

Bea moves towards the girl, hugging her curves while staring into the blonde’s eyes with undisguised desire, “mmhmm, you look gorgeous”, she nods towards the group of people who are dancing along to the music, “dance with me?”

Poppy grabs Bea’s hand and manoeuvres her to the middle of the makeshift dance floor and the girls laugh, drink and dance for a couple of songs until Bea whispers into Poppy’s ear, “let’s get out of here”

She takes the blonde’s hand and moves towards the inside of the house and they stumble towards the bedrooms, and when they open the first door they simultaneously gasp when they see Veronica and Zoey making out on the bed, both girls half naked.

“Oh my god Bea get out” Zoey throws a pillow towards the door and in response Bea throws her head back laughing, “sorry, sorry, but the bra is kinda cute Zo”. Zoey gives Bea the finger as they leave the room and eventually, they find an empty bedroom and are already locked in a passionate embrace before the door even closes.

Bea roughly shoves Poppy against the door pressing her lips to Poppy’s, devouring her as her tongue slips into the blonde’s as her moans set the brunette alight. Bea caresses her tongue with Poppy’s and breaks the kiss to start kissing down her neck and then her jawline until she reaches the sensitive spot behind her ear and begins to suck at it. A moan escapes Poppy’s lips as her hands wrapped around the taller girl’s neck as her eyes roll back begging for more.

Bea pulls back and the two girls begin shredding off their clothes before jumping into the strangers bed, their lips locked once again, reigniting the very same passion. Bea sits up and leads Poppy onto her lap, she grabs the blonde’s hips and presses her down onto her thigh before whispering into her ear, “ride” and without missing a beat, Poppy does. She unrelentlessly presses her sensitive spot down on Bea’s thigh and rocks her hips, as she buries her face into the crook of Bea’s neck, muffling her moans. Bea feels the heat emitting from the blonde’s legs and lets out a groan as her hands grip Poppy’s hips even more and she begins alternating between kissing and sucking at the blonde’s chest.

“Please Bea” Poppy’s breaths come in hot and heavy as she begs for release, so Bea decides to give into the desire and flips the blonde over, pressing her deeper into the mattress while her fingers play with the waistband of her panties. She slips her hand inside and uses her thumb to encircle her clit, before slipping a finger inside her, and she begins pumping. Poppy’s back arches off the bed, groans echoing in the room as Bea slips another finger in, letting the blonde’s moans guide her as she brings the girl to the edge and lets her ride in the orgasm not stopping until she slumps back into the bed.

….

A little while later the girls get dressed and make their way back to the party where they see Zoey and Veronica in the corner whispering sweet nothings to each other and giggling. “They should just date already don’t you think?” Poppy leans on Bea’s shoulder, humming peacefully as she looks at the two girls.

“They should but they won’t. They’re both terrible with commitment”, Bea places a sweet kiss on Poppy’s forehead, “drink?”

“Yes please”

Bea squeezes Poppy’s hand and strolls into the house to grab the drinks. While waiting for Bea, Poppy stands in the front yard staring up at the sky until a unfamiliar hand, cups her ass and whispers into her ear, “what’s a girl like you doing alone here”, Poppy jerks away form the stranger, her nostrils flaring as she gives the guy a deathly stare.

“Don’t fucking touch me”

“Wow, I like my girls rowdy” he tries to touch a stray piece of the blonde’s hair that sticks out but she grabs his wrist and pushes him back, her eyes scanning the front yard hoping Bea will be back.

“Hey! What the hell is going on here?” AJ sidles up to Poppy as he begins to stare down the young man who just demeaningly laughs in AJ’s face.

“Get outta here kid, can’t you see I’m talking to someone”

“Well she has a girlfriend so get lost”. The stranger stares at Poppy, an unsettling glint in his eyes before he steps forward and puts two of his fingers under Poppy’s chin lifting her face a little, “so you’re a lesbo? Well we can change that”. Before Poppy can step back AJ shoves the boy back who in retort takes out a knife holding it out against AJ. “fuck off now”.

After catching up with a few friends, Bea hears about a commotion in the front yard and rushes out to see AJ barricading Poppy with his body while someone holds out a knife to his chest. Poppy’s eyes flash when she realises Bea is here and Bea moves behind the figure and takes out a small pocket knife from her jeans and lightly presses it against the stranger’s neck. Poppy lets out a small gasp, her body trembles slightly as she takes in the fact that Bea is holding a knife.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are but you better back the fuck off right now unless you want to get your throat slit” her voice is quiet but her tone is challenging. The stranger raises his hands in the air and Bea warily puts the knife down, avoiding any eye contact with Poppy. In a swift move, the stranger throws Bea’s knife out of her hand, puts her in a headlock and presses the knife against her throat, creating a small cut as blood lightly begins to trickle down her neck.

“No!” Poppy moves forward but AJ steps in front of her and in a flash he grabs an object from the waistband of trousers and holds it up to the stranger. Everyone in the front yard begins to panic and move out of the way as they all segregate themselves from the confrontation.

“AJ stop” Bea pleads with the young boy when she realises he has a gun in his hand as he points it to the stranger.

“Move away from her now or I’ll shoot” his voice trembles slightly as his hand shakes but he grips the gun tighter as his gaze pierces into the stranger.

“You won’t do it” he presses his knife into Bea’s throat a little more, who just winces at the pain while Poppy painfully watches the ordeal unfold, her heart hammering into her eardrums.

AJ places his hand on the trigger, his stance unwavering, “try me”. The stranger grimaces at AJ before removing his knife and pushing Bea forward, “you better watch your back kid” and with that he runs from the party. Poppy moves towards Bea, her hand cups the part of Bea’s neck with the cut and she turns to look at AJ, whose eyes are blank like he’s just seen a ghost.

“AJ, I-” Bea steps towards AJ who just looks at Bea with grief and embarrassment, “I’m sorry Bea” he puts the gun back in his waistband and runs off without looking back.

“What the fuck, Bea are you okay?” Poppy begins to examine the wound but Bea’s thoughts are enveloped in everything that just happened, her body trembles slightly as she takes in the fact that AJ now has a gun. In the background of the commotion, the fireworks are set off, colouring the sky in an array of colours but the girls can barely focus on them since they knew they were in deep shit.

read part 5 here

#playchoices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #star crossed lovers

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riotwritesthings · 4 years

Text

Melt into Me (Your Words Are My Own)

WinterIron, E, 18k, Heavy casual praise kink, pining, non-graphic injury, self care is big sexy | AO3

Remember when I said this prompt for WinterIronMonth got way out of hand? I was young and naive. It’s a monster. Here it is I’m super proud of it.

This fic, like lots of other fic, is all Stella’s fault. Everyone say thank you. And an extra big thank you for the idea, and the title, and in general letting me whine about this fic at you all the way through. You are truly a treasure.

Bucky has a new strategy for getting Tony to take proper human care of himself. Tony has never been so well fed, hydrated, thoroughly rested, and confused in all his life.

That doesn’t mean he wants it to stop, and it’s amazing how many boring adult things Bucky can get him to do just by patting his head and calling him ‘good boy’. Right up until Tony possibly ruins everything.

“Did you actually go to medical before coming down here?” Bucky asks as he walks into the lab. He fixes Tony with an expectant stare, looking freshly showered and gorgeous and-

Tony viciously shoves down that line of thought, instead holds up his arm and shows off the neat line of stitches on his forearm “I did,” he says smugly, “and you can tell, because these are much neater than when I do it myself.”

“Your stitches are terrible, I’ve seen literal evil scientists with better needlework than you,” Bucky says agreeably, stepping close to inspect Tony’s arm before giving a satisfied nod.

“That’s hurtful,” Tony says, dropping his arm and turning back to his worktable before he does something stupid like lean in and try to get a big whif of the shampoo Bucky uses. “Now where’s my treat, that was the deal, I went and let the ‘professionals’ sew me up and you better not be backing out on your end of the deal, or-“ Tony cuts off when a ziplock bag of homemade cookies lands on the table in front of him, straight from Bucky’s secret stash that no one has been able to find. “Yay,” he says gleefully, ripping into the bag.

Bucky’s hand is suddenly resting on top of his head, gently ruffling it, and Tony is uncomfortably aware of the fact that his hair is a sweaty mess because he may have gotten distracted on the way to his post-battle shower. Then Bucky pats his head and coos “yeah, tha’s a good boy.” His voice is equal parts teasing and amused, maybe a hint of condescension and underneath it all a fond warmth, like he really is pleased Tony dragged his pitiful human ass to medical after a relatively routine fight.

Tony flushes hot, nearly chokes on his giant mouthful of cookie and the only saving grace is that Bucky has already wandered away to play some kind of elaborate game with the bots. Tony still does not understand the rules of said game, and he wishes he found it less endearing that Bucky refuses to explain it to him.

Okay, so. That... that happened. Tony turns his attention back to the gauntlet he’s trying to repair and tells himself it’s fine, it’s not like it’ll ever happen again. It’s fine.

And the thing is, it’s not like Tony meant for it to happen again. It’s not like he was aiming for it. At least... not intentionally.

It’s just that Bucky’s been pestering him about actually remembering to eat lunch at a decent time recently, so when one day Tony actually does remember he decides to rub it in a little. ‘Ate lunch,’ he texts even though it’s silly, it doesn’t even matter and Bucky is only a couple floors up helping Steve rearrange furniture to Natasha’s liking for the millionth time. ‘Don’t see the big deal, but now maybe you’ll leave me alone you big mother hen.’

About half an hour later, Tony is heading to check out the new common room arrangement when Bucky texts him back and he laughs when he sees that it’s just a cookie emoji. Then Bucky adds ‘good boy’ and Tony makes a strangled sound as he walks into the still-opening doors of the elevator.

Tony spins on his heel and punches the door-close button before anyone spots him. Because he really doesn’t need company while he presses his flaming red face against the cool metal wall of the elevator, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Tony firmly tells himself that had not been his intention, and it’s really a good thing he’s so experienced at lying to himself.

Tony tracks Bucky down to hand over the fancy new scope he’s just finished, and finds him in the library curled up in an oversized armchair. It’s unfairly adorable, and Bucky’s smile does dangerous things to his heart.

“Thanks doll,” Bucky says, staring up at him instead of inspecting his new toy. When Tony tries to literally wave him off, already turning for the door, Bucky catches him by the wrist and gives a gentle tug until Tony relents and meets his stupid earnest gaze. “I mean it,” Bucky says, “I know how hard you been workin’ on this, thank you.”

Tony sputters, and then makes a couple nonsense noises while something uncurls warm and amazing in his chest. “No worries,” he finally manages and it’s both a relief and a disappointment when Bucky releases his wrist. “Making scopes is my jam. That’s better than the one I just put on Clint’s bow. Don’t tell him.”

“I’m gonna tell ‘im,” Bucky says instantly, smug and grinning and still just staring up at Tony, like he could possibly be more interesting than a digital scope. “I get the best stuff an’ I wanna make sure he knows it.”

“Whatever makes you happy, snowflake,” Tony says, face warm because oh god he’s so obvious, isn’t he? When he turns to enact a manly flee, Bucky lets him go and the sound of his soft, fond laugh follows Tony the rest of the day.

It kind of spirals out of control from there. Tony tells himself he doesn’t love it, but even he doesn’t believe himself anymore.

Bucky snatches the coffee cup out of Tony’s hand and replaces it with a glass of water before Tony can even begin to formulate a protest. For a long second all Tony can do is blink in stunned silence because how dare?!

Tony narrows his eyes in a glare, and apparently the twitching of his free hand gives him away because Bucky shifts to hold the mug way up above his head with that wide, gorgeous grin. Tony is pretty sure, if he tried hard enough, he could get that mug back, but it would probably end in both of them covered in water and/or hot coffee. And it would involve a lot of pressing himself against Bucky and attempting to climb him like a tree, which is... probably not a great plan.

So Tony chugs the water, glaring the whole time, and then Bucky hands back his coffee with a quiet “good.” Tony struggles to fight back his blush, can’t at all help the smile that takes over his face, and Bucky just smiles back before continuing on his way.

“JARVIS, please wake Bucky up just to inform him that I am pointedly not getting more coffee at three in the morning, and please do it as obnoxiously as possible,” Tony says as he stares into the depths of the fridge, “I’m thinking air sirens. Neon lights.”

There’s a soft, low chuckle from right behind him, and Tony has just enough time to freeze up, his eyes going wide. Then Bucky’s hand is in his once again messy hair, and Bucky’s low, sleep-rough voice is rumbling out “good boy.”

By the time Tony finds his own voice again Bucky has leaned in close against his back to swipe one of Clint’s juice boxes, patted him on the shoulder, and started for the door. “If I’m a good boy then where’s my cookie?” He calls after Bucky’s retreating back, tongue thick and heart racing.

“Good boys go t’ sleep,” Bucky calls back, pointedly, and Tony grumbles all the way to bed.

He sleeps like a fucking baby, wakes up still feeling warm and happy and flushed.

"I don't need a brain scan," Tony insists. Again. “My brain is fine. It’s excellent. It is a stunning example of a human brain, ask anyone. Except Bruce, but he’s still just mad that I broke his favorite microscope.”

Bucky continues to stare him down, then lifts his shiny metal hand. "How many fingers am I holdin’ up?" He demands, and Tony would be insulted if he wasn’t having such a hard time focusing.

Tony stares at his hand, counting carefully. "Three," he finally declares, with full confidence.

"That took entirely too long!" Bucky says, dropping his hand again even though it looks like what he really wants to do is just throw both hands in the air and yeah, Tony gets that a lot. "You have a knot the size of a fuckin’ golf ball an’ no offense, but it’s ruinin’ your pretty face. Go get th’ damn scan!"

Tony taps his screwdriver against his chin, eyes on the ceiling, and decides he should probably wait to freak out about the ‘pretty face’ comment later, alone. So for now he turns a sunny smile on Bucky, pointing his screwdriver, and says "no.”

"Please, doll? Do it for me?" Bucky asks, completely shifting tactics, and he even has the gall to pout at Tony. With his blue eyes and red lips. The nerve of it.

Tony holds firm. For about five seconds. "Fine," he sighs, dropping the screwdriver to the table so he can throw both hands in the air himself.

Bucky smiles at him, warm and relieved and something that Tony almost wants to call thankful and Tony has to drop his chin because he can’t deal with that face.

Moving his head so suddenly kind of makes the room spin, and Bucky ends up having to carry him to the medical wing. Bucky also lectures him the whole time, but his hands are so gentle and he stays for the entire thing and Tony finds that he only minds the lectures a little.

Tony wakes up from a nap he definitely hadn’t intended to take, still sprawled out on the couch in the common room with Bucky’s fingers still running through his hair. He has no idea how much time has passed but the TV is off and the windows are dark. He appears to have stolen Sam’s blanket, at some point.

He twists his head, still resting on Bucky’s thigh, to fix Bucky with a baleful look and says “I thought I told you I didn’t need a nap.”

“‘S not like I made you fall asleep,” Bucky says, smiling innocently even though he basically did, with his stupid magic hands. Then Bucky’s grin turns into a smirk, voice low as he adds “but don’t you feel better now?”

Tony pouts harder, because he does, and Bucky laughs, continues petting his head until Tony falls right back to sleep.

“You do not want me helping you cook,” Tony says with a sputtering laugh, but he steps further into the kitchen anyways, because whatever Bucky is cooking smells amazing. And because it’s Bucky. “I can’t believe you’d ask me to come help you cook. Did JARVIS not tell you how much of a terrible idea that is?”

“Just be good an’ get over here,” Bucky says, and he doesn’t look up from stirring whatever’s in the giant pot but Tony can hear him rolling his eyes.

“I will be no help,” Tony assures him, but steps up to the stove anyways, trying to peek over the rim of the pot. “Is that tomato sauce? Please say yes, and then please don’t let me ruin it.”

Bucky lets out a huff of laughter and turns towards him, wooden spoon outheld, and says “c’mon doll I need a taste tester.” When Tony just blinks at him, Bucky wiggles the spoon a little and says “open up, sweet thing.”

Tony does his best to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him, instead making a big show of checking the spoon for signs of poison or sabotage, humming suspiciously until Bucky gives an impatient huff. Only then does Tony give in, leaning in just a little more to drag his tongue up the flat back of the wooden spoon and then groans happily, because holy shit that is some good sauce. He opens his eyes to tell Bucky so, not sure when they fell closed in the first place, only to find Bucky watching him with an intensity that has Tony’s breath catching in his throat.

“Good?” Bucky asks, like he doesn't already know the answer, and when Tony nods emphatically he grins. “See,” he says, voice suddenly gone low and deep, not looking away from Tony even as he returns to stirring the pot, “you can be good an’ helpful, knew you could babydoll.”

Bucky finally turns back to the stove, just in the nick of time because there’s not a damn thing Tony can do about the warmth spreading across his cheeks, unfurling in his chest. “Yes, very helpful,” Tony says with a dry laugh, “what would you do without me here to lick things?”

Bucky’s eyes flick over to him, lids lowered in a way that is giving Tony ideas, and his lips quirk up and as he says “have to lick things myself I guess, an’ where’s the fun in that?” Tony barks out a startled laugh, face heating, and Bucky grins down at the pot. “Gonna stay and eat with me, right?” He asks pointedly, like he’s just daring Tony to say no.

Tony pretends like he actually has to think about it, making considering noises and dragging his eyes away from the smug curve of Bucky’s lips. “Do I get a treat afterwards?” He asks obnoxiously, giving Bucky a little nudge with his elbow.

“Mmhmm,” Bucky hums, gaze shifting over to him again. Tony can feel his pulse in his fingertips in the best possible way and he has to bite his lip so he won’t start blurting out suggestions. Bucky’s eyes flick down, just for a second, and then he says “go get some plates.”

So they eat dinner, and Bucky demands to know all of Tony’s greatest cooking disasters and yeah he laughs his ass off but he also keeps giving Tony these wide, warm smiles, and Tony finds that he really doesn’t mind. He’d tell Bucky every embarrassing thing he’s ever done if he gets to hear that laugh. And he’s done a lot.

When Tony starts shoving his empty plate across the table, knocking it into Bucky’s obnoxiously, Bucky just laughs and goes to rummage around in the pantry. Which is a foolish move, because now Tony knows his secret sweets stash is in fact somewhere in the pantry. Which is more than anyone else knows.

Bucky returns with a chocolate and peanut butter cookie roughly half the size of Tony’s face, and then watches him eat it with an unfairly intense stare. Bucky barely glances down at his own plate as he devours a second, and then a third helping of food, just watches Tony eat the cookie that he’s starting to suspect Bucky has been saving just for him. Like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing in the world, nothing more interesting than watching Tony make a mess of himself with baked goods, licking smears of chocolate off his fingers.

The heat in Tony’s gut is battling for attention with the warmth in his chest, and he can’t do much more than stare back. He barely even remembers the walk to the elevator after Bucky firmly suggests he should get some sleep once in a while, the weight of Bucky’s eyes on his shoulders all the way down the hallway.

He falls asleep thinking the word ‘ravenous’ and wakes up panting, stuck to his sheets and aching.

Bucky walks into the room, and Tony switches from eating his breakfast like a normal, rational person, to eating it pointedly, fork scraping across his plate, loud chewing, the works.

Bucky just smiles, big and genuine, says “look at you, feedin’ yourself, I’m so proud,” like he really means it. Tony swallows thickly, heart thundering in his chest and an addictive warmth spreading through him. That still doesn’t mean he lets Bucky get away with trying to steal his bacon, though.

And okay yeah, Tony feels a little bad, if he stops to let himself think about it. Feels like a bit of a creep, but only a little. Because it’s not like Bucky knows that every tiny nice thing he says goes straight to Tony’s head. And his heart. And also a little bit to his dick. Just like Bucky doesn’t know that Tony has had a big useless crush on him for like a year now and really, what’s one more secret?

And besides, unless Tony is actually as out-of-touch as some people like to accuse him of being, it almost seems like Bucky is happier too. Like for some reason he actually likes keeping Tony alive and functional, and really, who would Tony be if he took that away? If Bucky gets some sense of accomplishment out of forcing Tony to get three square meals and eight-ish hours of sleep, then who is Tony to deny him?

It’s just one more tiny little secret.

Tony barely manages not to audibly sigh in relief as the reporter who’s been hounding him gets distracted by some kind of commotion over by the catering table and hurries away, lest he miss the story. Tony’s smile doesn’t slip, because he’s a pro, but it’s difficult. Tony loves his mother’s charity, he really does, it’s the only gala he doesn’t have to be convinced to go to, but he really wishes people wouldn’t ruin it by insisting on asking about Howard.

If Tony has to grit his teeth one more time and say that Howard was a ‘great man’ (debatable) or that he ‘always supported Maria in her causes’ (outright lie), then he’s going to snap and do something drastic. Like go raid the entire bar. Or cry.

“You don’t have t’ put up with that,” comes a voice from right beside him, and Tony jumps hard even though he’d know that voice anywhere. Apparently, Tony is even more tense than he’d realized, and the concerned look on Bucky’s face means he’s probably noticed too.

“I’m going to put a bell on you, almost gave me a heart attack,” Tony grumbles, clutching one hand to his chest and hoping like hell that they can just not talk about it.

Bucky hums thoughtfully, then grins and says “Sneakin’ with a bell, sounds like a fun challenge.”

“That is not the point of the bell,” Tony says seriously, pointing at him, and not letting his eyes drag down the line of Bucky’s body, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how good Bucky’s legs look in a well-fitted suit.

“I mean it,” Bucky says, smiling dimming a little, and so much for Tony’s attempts to deflect, “you know you don’t have to put up with that, right?”

“What?” Tony asks blankly, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, he never gets away with playing dumb. Sure enough, Bucky fixes him with a flat look until Tony sighs and says “Yes, I kind of do.”

“No,” Bucky says, so firm and urgent that Tony is a little taken aback, catching Tony gently by the elbow when he tries to turn, tries to look for a distraction. “Maybe you have to be here, an’ maybe you have to play nice, but you don’t have t’ answer anythin’ you don’t wanna. And you especially don’ have to talk about him.”

Tony doesn’t know what he feels at this point, some mix of frozen and warm and fuzzy, flushed hot while ice runs through his veins, and he kind of can’t believe that Bucky has been watching him that closely-

“I don’t?” He asks and hates how weak his voice comes out, how unsure, but he’s been talking up Howard at these stupid things for as long as he can remember, it’s second nature, and no one has ever told him that he doesn’t have to in his his entire life-

“No, Tony,” Bucky says and his voice has gone soft too, rough and a little sad and he smiles crookedly as he adds “jus’ tell ‘em to fuck off if they keep tryin’.”

“Well I definitely can’t do that,” Tony huffs. Bucky’s fingers are still holding him so gently, thumb dragging over the inside of his elbow, making Tony shiver just as much as holding him standing.

“You’ll figure it out,” Bucky says, smiling a little wider again and tapping his thumb against Tony’s pulse through his sleeve, “you got that way with words, sweet talker, ‘m sure you’ll come up with somethin’.”

“You’re the sweet talker,” Tony grumbles, and Bucky laughs softly.

Not even half an hour later the same damn reporter corners him as he steps off the stage after his speech, asking the same damn questions, and Tony hesitates. Then he decides fuck it, throws out all his prepared responses, slaps on his sharpest smile and bites out “I’m not going to talk about that anymore.”

The reporter actually looks a little thrown for a second, then visibly steels his nerve and says “People just want to know what it was like growing up with-“

“No,” Tony says, smiling wider, sharper, “I’ve already answered that question what must be a million times by now, how about you go dig up one of those stories and republish that. I’m sure it’ll be better written that way, anyways.” The reporter is still sputtering as Tony turns and walks away, slips into a side hallway to pat himself on the back and maybe panic-breathe, just a little.

He’s barely slumped back against the wall before Bucky is right in front of him, breathing out “Oh, Tony.”

“Seriously, a bell, a big one,” Tony repeats, smile only a little wobbly as he drags his eyes up to meet Bucky’s, and then can’t help blurting out “Did I- was that... okay?”

“Perfect,” Bucky says instantly, jolting forward and then stopping, like he’d been about to pull Tony in for a hug before thinking better of it. Which is too bad, Tony could really go for a hug right now but it’s almost just as good when Bucky says “That was perfect, you did so good sweet thing, don’t you feel better now?”

“Yes,” Tony says with a heavy sigh, not even realizing how much he means it until all the tension bleeds out of him and before he can stop himself Tony is leaning forward to thump his forehead against Bucky’s chest, letting his eyes fall closed and breathing in the comforting, earthy smell of Bucky’s cologne. He just can’t take the warmth and open pride in Bucky’s gaze anymore, not without running the very serious risk of turning to a useless puddle of mush.

Of course, then Bucky’s right hand lands warm and gentle on the back of Tony’s head, wide palm cradling his skull easily and thumb stroking down the line of his neck, the other hand curled around Tony’s shoulder and pulling him a little closer. “So proud’a you, Tony, did so good, knew you could do it doll,” Bucky says softly, speaking directly against the top of Tony’s head while his fingers slide through Tony’s hair.

“I’ve told off reporters before,” Tony huffs, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, Bucky apparently sees right through him, “I do it all the time. Did you miss when I snapped at one of them during that last press conference and Steve gave me disappointed face?”

Bucky just hums, taps his metal fingers against the curve of Tony’s shoulder blade. “Yeah,” he finally says, voice barely more than a breath, “For everyone else. Always makin’ sure the rest of th’ team never has to talk about anythin’ they don’t want to the press. Never cut yourself any slack like that, though, do ya?”

Tony’s breath catches in his throat, and how does Bucky do that?! He has no response, no idea what to say, absolutely never expected to be called out. Not on this. When Bucky makes a soft, expectant sound, like he’s actually waiting for an answer, all Tony can do is shake his head a little, careful not to accidentally dislodge Bucky’s hold on him.

“You’re worth it too, ya hear me?” Bucky asks, his hold on Tony tightening ever so slightly, one finger tap tap tapping at the back of Tony’s head until Tony finally huffs and nods. “Good boy,” Bucky says, still so softly, and if he notices the way Tony all but melts against him, at least he doesn’t say anything about it.

Tony shuffles down the hallway, frowning at his phone and glancing up every now and then just to make sure he’s not about to run into anyone. Considering he lives in a tower full of spies, soldiers, and other assorted superheroes, they all have surprisingly terrible situational awareness sometimes. And sure, it’s heartwarming that they can all let their guard down, at least a little, but he’s also a little tired of people tripping and breaking things because Thor likes to nap in hallways.

When he glances up and spots Bucky in his path, he steps to the side and barely has time for a “Hey frosty, Clint was looking for you. He was also holding a water gun, so I’d be careful.” After a quick grin Tony returns to squinting at his phone, and therefore does not see it coming at all when Bucky gently grabs his elbow and halts him in his tracks.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, an adorable little concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows. He also lets go of Tony’s arm, which is a shame.

Tony blinks, then glances down at himself. He’s not sure what gave Bucky the impression that something is wrong, if it was the stained and hole-littered jeans, the wrinkled shirt, or the fact that Tony apparently lost one of his socks somewhere. Huh.

“Yeah, fine,” Tony says and waves his phone a little, “just got a lot to do. You know how it is. Every day I receive emails, so on and so forth.”

“You got a headache?” Bucky asks, randomly, even though Tony does. It’s pounding right behind his eyes, and all along his temple, and throbbing in time with his heartbeat. All in all, it’s a high quality headache.

“No,” Tony says anyways, because he has things to do, and Bucky is making ‘go take a nap’ face at him. It’s a very specific face. “My head feels awesome, better than awesome, I gotta get down to the lab, so, you better be getting on with your water gun fight. Watch the furniture.”

Tony tries to step away again, before Bucky can guilt him into not working, but Bucky snaps a hand out and catches him by the belt loop on his hip. It’s everything Tony can do not to swallow his tongue.

“What you gotta do is take a break,” Bucky says firmly, and Tony is opening his mouth to ask if that means he’s invited to the water gun fight, but Bucky apparently sees it coming and cuts him off. “Go take a nap, Tony.”

“I don’t want a nap,” Tony whines petulantly and braces his bare foot against the ground, leans against Bucky’s hold and trusts him not to actually let go as Tony pouts at him.

“Then at least go lay down,” Bucky says, heartlessly. When Tony just pouts at him harder Bucky rolls his eyes with a soft huff and says “Do it an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to drink.” When Tony opens his mouth Bucky immediately adds “not coffee.”

Tony gasps in horror, but Bucky remains unswayed. “Fine, hot chocolate,” he demands, leaning a little harder despite the way his worn jeans are gaping at the waist and more than likely to rip at any second.

Bucky considers, eyes dragging down Tony’s chest and probably counting the grease stains on his shirt, and finally says “Water an’ then hot chocolate.”

“Fine, I will go to my room and await my beverage delivery,” Tony says, already running mental calculations on exactly how long he has to run to the lab and grab his tablet then stash it somewhere before Bucky catches him.

“You goin’ straight to your room?” Bucky asks, one eyebrow raised, and damnit how does he do that?! Tony is seriously considering

Tony groans, then gives what Rhodey has assured him is the worst salute humanly possible as he says “Sir yes sir, Sargent Tastee-Freeze.”

Bucky grins with lots of teeth and tugs at Tony’s belt loop to pull him back upright again as he says “Good boy.”

Tony goes straight to his room, and Bucky’s smile when he finds Tony already curled up under a blanket with the lights in the room down low is totally worth it. The amazing hot chocolate is just a bonus.

“Tony,” Bucky says, voice frantic, “Tony, you gotta stay awake.”

“Hurts,” Tony complains, just in case Bucky hasn’t noticed that he’s bleeding out here. And he’s supposed to be the observant one.

“I know, I know it does,” Bucky says and his fingers are shaking as he brushes Tony’s hair off of his forehead. His other hand is incredibly steady as it presses a crumpled jacket to Tony’s bleeding stomach, making him groan pitifully. “You gotta stay awake for me, doll, jus’ stay awake.”

“Wanna sleep,” Tony says petulantly, because that sounds way better than being awake for all this agony. His eyelids are already fluttering shut and he’s not worried about the asshole that shot him, if Bucky is here then there’s nothing to worry about. Tony is pretty sure Natasha was around here too somewhere, but it’s surprisingly hard to remember.

“No no no, wake up,” Bucky says, voice cracking, and maybe there is something to worry about, if Bucky sounds that upset. Tony wonders what it is. “C’mon, wake up for me sweetheart, be a good boy and just- jus’ open your eyes.”

“Good?” Tony slurs out and cracks one eye open, just enough to see that Bucky’s face is wet and if Tony didn’t know better he’d think Bucky was crying.

“Yeah Tony,” Bucky says with a smile that’s entirely too shaky, sounding entirely too desperate, “jus’ be good and stay awake for me, give you all the fuckin’ cookies you want, give you anything.” His hand is on Tony’s cheek again, fingers so warm, and when Tony’s eyes start to fall closed again Bucky gives him the slightest of shakes and says “Hey, hey, c’mon doll, don’t you got some demands for me? Gotta stay awake to tell me what you want, baby.”

“Wanna be good,” Tony manages to croak out, struggling to get his stubborn eyes to open and actually focus. He almost wishes he hadn’t, because there’s something horribly stricken about Bucky’s expression, something startled and scared and it drags a pained noise out of Tony’s chest that has nothing to do with the blood pooling below him.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks after a pause and he’s shaking all over now, everywhere but his metal hand still pressed firm and agonizing over the bullet holes in Tony’s stomach. “Wanna be good for me, you gotta stay awake until the paramedics get here, can you do that sweet thing?”

“Gross, hate them,” Tony says, and Bucky’s laugh sounds more like a choked sob. Tony flails one hand up until he can grab weakly at Bucky’s shirt. “‘Kay, stayin’ awake,” he says and decides to not mention that he can taste blood with each word, instead tugging at Bucky’s shirt a little as he slurs out “just cuz y’re a worrier.”

“That’s real sweet of ya, darlin’,” Bucky says and at least his laugh sounds a little less ragged, a little less like it’s being dragged out of him.

Everything goes a little fuzzy after that, but Tony doesn’t let go of his grip on Bucky’s shirt until the EMTs start heartlessly cutting into his nice suit. Bucky doesn’t let go for even longer.

Tony did something wrong. He doesn't know what, but he knows he did something. Which is just, Classic Tony.

Except he does know, he knows exactly what he did and the knowledge sits in his stomach like a weight. He made it weird. He hasn't seen Bucky since he woke up in the hospital. Not really. Because Tony made it weird.

He’s not even sure what he did, exactly, except possibly everything. He’s got this huge sad crush on Bucky, sure, but he’s had that for ages now, and Tony is dealing with it. He’s dealing with it fine. And okay sure, maybe Tony has been acting like a bit of a creep about it, lately, getting all warm and fuzzy and tingly anytime Bucky does something nice for him. Which Bucky does all the time, because he’s a nice person.

And now Tony has scared him off, somehow, between bleeding out mid-press conference and being discharged from the hospital. Painkiller-Tony probably said something to give himself away, that loopy bastard has no filter.

But Tony tells himself it’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he’ll finally get over this stupid, useless crush now. It’s not like he feels cold and lonely without Bucky’s constant hovering, or anything. It’s not like the fact that Bucky will barely look at him hurts more than the multiple lines of stitches in his stomach, or anything.

It’s fine.

He shuffles slow and careful into the kitchen at stupid-o-clock in the morning, after his second (third?) night without sleep, and there’s no super soldier laying in wait to snatch away his coffee. And force feed him an obscene stack of pancakes. And bitch at him for not sleeping enough when he’s technically still recovering from his unintended run-in with multiple bullets.

The best he gets is Natasha telling him he looks like a zombie and throwing an apple at his head, which really just doesn’t have the same charm. Even if she does do it gently, while giving him concerned eyes.

So Tony gets his coffee, takes his apple, goes back to the lab and wakes up later that day with everything aching because he passed out sprawled across a worktable again. His back is sore and he’s hungry and his stitches burn from being hunched over for hours.

But it’s fine. Tony is fine, he’s an adult, he’s been barely-taking-care-of himself for years. It’s fine.

Bucky is still around, is the thing, he still cracks dry jokes at Steve’s expense and hoards all the blankets on movie nights.

He still wanders down to the lab to play with the bots, but it’s not as often. Not that Tony has made charts, or anything, just to prove to himself that it’s not all in his head. He brings down plates of food, also less often, and doesn’t stick around to make sure Tony eats them. Tony never plans to, plans to shove the food away for a proper pout, but after the third time he finds himself finishing off the plate and halfway through texting Bucky about it before realizing better, Tony gives up. He switches to just eating as soon as Bucky leaves the lab, and he doesn’t even have to lie to himself that it’s just a different form of pouting.

When Tony tracks him down to hand over some new body armor, Bucky still thanks him with entirely too much sincerity, like he still doesn’t realize that this is just what Tony does. It still makes Tony’s heart lurch and his stomach swoop and his face heat, but when Tony goes to run away because he still doesn’t know how to deal with that, Bucky doesn’t stop him.

Bucky still watches his back in every fight and suggests weird sci-fi books, still leaves leftovers with Tony’s name on them in the fridge just like he always has. Tony still has his friend, is the thing, and when he tells himself that’s all he’d ever expected it’s not even a lie.

JARVIS is the one to gently remind him when it’s time to have his stitches removed, Tony is nearly overwhelmed by the sudden urge to cry. Because he can’t remember the last time Bucky wasn’t the one dragging him down to medical for boring things like follow up appointments, bribing him with baked goods and smiling all the while.

Tony is tempted to just remove them himself, he’s so tempted. Because it’s not like he can’t, it’s what he used to do before Bucky started his whole ‘aggressive mother hen’ routine. He even has the tiny scissors in hand, sterilized and everything, but he can’t stop picturing that sad little twist to Bucky’s lips, the way his eyes go wet and pained when he catches Tony doing his own first aid. And Tony can’t even lie to himself that Bucky doesn’t care anymore, because they’re still friends, it’s not like Tony can exactly blame him for needing space now that he almost definitely knows Tony has feelings.

Eventually Tony throws down the scissors so aggressively that DUM-E makes concerned beeping noises at him, and he definitely gets some weird looks when he stomps into medical grumpy and painfully alone. No one asks any questions about it though, about the sudden Bucky-shaped hole in his side, and Tony wonders just how miserable he must look.

He nearly runs straight into Bucky in the hallway at something-past-midnight, and it’s all Tony can do to not spill his extra large mug of coffee all over both of them.

“You give me one more heart attack and I’m actually putting that bell on you,” Tony threatens, clutching his mug close to his chest even though odds are pretty good Bucky isn’t going to try and take it from him anymore.

Sure enough, Bucky only makes sad-eyes at his coffee for about two seconds, then drags his eyes up to Tony’s face and says “Just make sure they sound extra Christmas-y, to fit with my whole ‘winter’ vibe.”

Tony laughs and tells himself that this is fine. He still has a friend, still gets to enjoy Bucky’s weird sense of humor, still gets to see him around in the common rooms and that’s plenty, it’s fine. He almost manages to believe it. “Christmas anti-stealth bells, your wish is my command,” Tony says, nodding seriously. And then he raises his coffee to his lips and takes an obnoxiously loud sip, doesn’t know why he does it except that he absolutely does, stupidly trying to bait Bucky into snatching it away from him, insisting Tony take it easy, get some sleep some time this week, something.

All Bucky does is make sadder-eyes at him, which is not what Tony had been going for now he feels terrible. Bucky opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then shuts it again, and honestly that’s worse than the way Tony’s stomach still throbs dully anytime he laughs, it’s an aching hurt that settles deep in his chest and makes it hard to breathe.

“Well, I better get on it,” Tony says and takes a shuffling step back because he doesn't know what else to do, he doesn’t know how to fix this. He’s tried to stop having this big stupid crush, fuck has he tried, but he can’t. It just gets worse and Tony is starting to think he’s never getting over it, just one more chronic ache he’ll never shake.

Tony needs to go, he needs to get out of here and go put himself back together so he can stop doing this to himself. But when he turns too quickly it sends a sharp pain lancing through his gut and Tony can’t quite stop the hiss that slips out of him. He doesn’t stop moving though, just pushes through and keeps his steps as carefully measured as he can, even when Bucky makes a soft, wounded noise that sounds like he’s trying to swallow it down.

Bucky doesn’t actually say anything though, and soon enough Tony is alone in his room holding a mug of coffee he’s just now realizing he doesn’t even want. He dumps it out in the sink, crawls into bed for another good pout and ends up falling asleep for eight hours.

So Tony keeps feeding himself and getting a good night’s sleep every so often. He even waits until he’s officially cleared by the doctors to start demanding to be let back into the field and he drinks the occasional glass of water. He keeps doing all those things even after he stops hoping Bucky will ruffle his hair and call him a ‘good boy’ in that tone that’s somehow the perfect mix of fond and amused and bossy and maybe just a little condescending.

Because they’re still friends, and Tony doesn’t want to ruin that too. He doesn't want to keep making Bucky make sad-eyes at him across the lab when he catches Tony chewing on coffee beans to keep himself awake, holding a half-melted ice pack to his face and squinting at his screens.

So maybe Tony has a big sad crush, and maybe Bucky figured that out somehow. Probably the fact that Tony got inappropriately tingly when Bucky treated him like a particularly stupid house pet, because Bucky has completely stopped. Tony is not letting himself think about how much he misses it, because that’s not the point.

The point is that they’re friends, and if it makes Bucky sad when his friends can’t take basic human care of themselves, well the least Tony can do is try to do better. It was just a lot easier when he could look forward to Bucky patting his head and calling him ‘good’ in that way that sent heat spiraling through Tony’s entire body.

But whatever. Tony manages.

“We should order pizza,” Tony announces, marching into the common room and nearly shouting to be heard over what appears to be half the team heckling a baking show.

“Are you trying to start another screaming match?” Steve demands, giving him a horrified look, “this tower cannot agree on pizza toppings, we’ve learned this.”

“I’ll just order everyone their own, no screaming, no problem,” Tony says dismissively, “I just finished with an all-day meeting that could have lasted an hour tops and I’m starving and the only thing that can make it better is pizza.” He ends his declaration with a whine and a little stomp of his foot, and tells himself that the sound of Bucky’s quiet laugh doesn’t make his chest warm. He needs to get better at lying to himself.

“But then I still have to see the abomination Clint calls a pizza, and how am I supposed to eat like that?” Sam demands, shooting a look at Clint who’s already half on-top of his arm chair and drawing in a huge breath to no doubt shout his rebuttal.

“I’m still going to do it,” Tony says gleefully, drowned out by the onslaught of yelling and already pulling out his phone.

“Are you happy now?” Steve demands as Sam and Clint start whipping throw pillows across the room at each other while Bucky laughs, egging them on and tossing Clint more ammo.

And yeah, Tony kind of is.

Someone walks into the workshop and Tony’s head snaps up, but it’s just Clint. Tony is not disappointed.

“Stop giving me that look,” Clint says, pointing one finger at Tony’s face. “Bucky wanted me to come down here and remind you to go to medical. He also told me not to tell you he told me to, but I’ve conveniently forgotten that part.”

“Convenient for who?” Tony asks with a huff of laughter, and ignores the way it makes his stupid heart feel all warm that Bucky still worries, at least, even if he doesn’t actually want to come down and face Tony’s crush himself. It’s still something.

Clint ignores him in favor of poking at the things scattered across the worktables, never mind that most of it is weaponry of some kind, and when Tony throws a screwdriver at him Clint spins around with an unimpressed look. “What’s up with you two, anyways? You’re being weirder than normal,” he demands, throwing the screwdriver back.

“Go tell him I’ve already been,” Tony says, barely managing to catch the tool before it hits him in the face, “my stomach is fine, they just taped up my ribs and gave me a tetanus shot. Tetanus!” And no, for the record, Tony had not spent the entire time thinking about how Bucky probably would have let Tony hold his hand, if he’d been there.

“Go tell him yourself, you incredible idiot,” Clint says, and then starts poking at dangerous things until Tony kicks him out of the lab.

“Why are you up before noon and looking like you actually slept?” Video-call-Rhodey demands, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “who are you and what have you done with Tony?”

“Fuck you, platypus,” Tony says pleasantly, “that’s hurtful, I know how to adult.” The look Rhodey fixes him with in return is so unimpressed Tony’s can feel it in his soul, even through the screen.

“I have known you for years,” Rhodey says slowly, “and I can emphatically say that no, you do not, and- Are you drinking water?”

“What? No,” Tony says, lowering his glass of water back out of frame. Rhodey continues to stare him down, and Tony just stares back, because there is no way they’re getting into this. Tony wouldn’t even know where to start, at this point.

He passes Bucky as he turns the corner towards the elevator, and Tony really wishes he had the time to ask what Bucky is grinning so wide about. As it is he has a meeting with Pepper to get to and best-friend-questions to avoid.

“You know what Steve,” Tony snaps, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s exhausted, he’s sore, he has a ton of work to do and he’s tired of being yelled at for shit that’s not his fault. He’s also tired of the sad look Bucky is giving him, like he thinks Tony can’t see him, like he thinks Tony doesn’t know that he doesn’t deserve this.

Steve actually falters, words trailing off as he blinks at Tony because yeah, Tony usually calls him ‘Rogers’ when he’s pissed, or at least ‘Cap’. And yeah it’s one of Tony’s favorite ways of distancing himself, what of it? He can feel Bucky’s stare like a physical weight on his chest, he’s frustrated enough with himself as it is, and Tony doesn’t want distance.

“I’m not a magician, okay,” Tony grits out, doesn’t snap it, keeps his voice even and clenches his fists to keep them from shaking, “hacking an encrypted system takes time, and it takes processing power. Processing power that is limited when I’m also using it to pilot the armor, so yeah, I hacked it as quick as I could, and if that’s not good enough then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Steve gapes at him for a second, eyes wide and mouth hanging open and Tony really wishes he could feel better about accomplishing that right now. “Oh,” Steve finally says, and Tony can’t help but notice that the debrief room has suddenly cleared out around them. “I- I didn’t-“

This is usually the part where Tony would jump on that moment of hesitation, tack on a couple barbs to easily push Steve from thrown-off to angry. It’s surprisingly easy, Tony has practically made an art form out of it. Because Tony is so much better at knowing what to do with people when they’re mad at him. But right now, Tony is tired, and he really needs a shower, and he really needs to get down to the lab and figure out how to up the power in the suit, make sure he doesn’t get caught unprepared again.

And yeah, Tony can still feel Bucky staring at him, and Tony doesn’t know how much longer he can stand it without breaking down and doing something ridiculous. Like demanding a hug. Or to have his head patted, or for reassurance that he did okay. And Tony doesn’t get that anymore, never should have had it in the first place, so he just turns and leaves.

Tony has nearly made his escape, and he’s managing to keep it together, right up until he catches sight of Buck’s face. Tony has spent a lot of time cataloging away all of Bucky’s expressions, telling himself the entire time that he’s not a creepy obsessed weirdo, and he’s never seen that face before. Some mix of happy and surprised and proud, and a hundred other things that Tony still hasn’t been able to figure out how to deal with. Seeing it less often apparently doesn’t stop Tony’s heart from lurching dangerously at the sight of that warm smile, doesn’t stop his stomach from working itself into a tight, heated knot.

No one follows after him, and after turning a couple corners blindly Tony finally lets himself slump back against a wall, just for a second. Just to try and catch his breath, try to fight down the warmth rising stubbornly in his chest.

Tony likes doing his test flights of the suits around dusk, when he can help it. He likes watching night fall over the city, likes watching the colors of the sunset give way to the bright lights that come to life in every window.

When he finally heads back for the tower he aims for the roof, figuring he’ll have the suit drop him off and then take itself down to the workshop to start running diagnostics on the new settings without him. It’ll take a while anyways, and Tony hasn’t had dinner yet. And for some reason, all of Tony’s friends seem weirdly invested in his eating habits and are weirdly thrilled when he remembers to do it. Tony is even doing a better job lately of convincing himself there’s not one friend in particular he’s trying to thrill.

Once the armor zips off towards the entrance on the workshop level the roof is dark, and Tony very nearly trips over Bucky on his way to the door. He makes an embarrassing squeaking noise but manages to keep his balance, only wincing a little as his toes throb because fuck what is Bucky’s shin made of?!

“Woah, shit, excellent lurking there, Frosty, truly A+ work,” Tony says, clutching at his chest, and he’s about to re-suggest his whole ‘put a bell on you’ plan when Bucky actually drags his eyes up from the ground to fix on Tony instead.

Bucky looks terrible. Which of course means he’s still one of the most gorgeous people Tony has ever seen, but the dark circles under his eyes hit Tony like a blow to the chest. Bucky’s hair is a mess, lines around his eyes deep and pronounced and he looks tired in a way that seeps straight down into your bones, eats you alive. Tony knows that feeling all too well, but he has no idea what to say in the face of it.

He doesn’t need to ask if Bucky is having a rough couple of days, it’s painfully obvious, and he knows Bucky isn’t going to talk about it if he doesn’t want to. And he very rarely wants to. It would certainly explain why Steve was looking for him yesterday, if Bucky has been hiding out avoiding everyone, which probably means that Bucky has been sitting out here on the roof for who knows how long and will continue sitting out here until he feels like a person again.

The fact that Bucky doesn’t say anything, doesn’t uncurl from his protective huddle against the wall, just stares up at Tony with shadowed eyes, means that he’s definitely not there yet. He barely even twitches when Tony’s stomach growls loudly, just raises one eyebrow slightly even though Tony is pretty sure that was loud enough for people down on the street to hear.

“I’m on my way right now!” Tony defends before Bucky can start making sad face at him, because that is probably the last thing Bucky needs right now, to be worrying that Tony is somehow going to starve to death without constant supervision. Bucky’s lip twitches in the barest hint of a smile, and Tony is absolutely going to count that as a win.

He’s about to leave, head inside and leave Bucky alone to his rooftop creeping, but then something occurs to him. If Bucky has been hiding out away from everyone, it stands to reason that he hasn’t been to the kitchen for food recently. There’s always someone in the kitchen. Tony hesitates for a second, and then decides fuck it. They’re friends, and fair is fair.

“Come on Snowflake,” he says firmly, no room for arguments, and holds out one hand for Bucky to take. “I’ll make you one of my specialties. Do you want a lumpy sandwich, or cold cereal?”

Bucky’s lips twitch ever so slightly further up as he takes Tony’s hand and pulls himself to his feet, and Tony is going to call that a resounding fucking victory.

Bucky loves sci-fi. Even worse, he loves cheesy, horrible sci-fi, and he gets a particular kick out of movies that are so inaccurate they send Bruce and sometimes even Tony into fits of rage.

It’s a serious problem, because Tony loves that Bucky loves shitty sci-fi. It’s hopelessly endearing, and Tony is pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before he full on breaks down crying at the entirely-too-adorable sight of Bucky on the couch amid a mountain of blankets, happily humming along to the Stargate Atlantis theme song. Tony is only human, okay? He’s just trying to head back to the lab with his lunch and there’s only so much he can reasonably be expected to withstand.

It’s also a problem in that Bucky tends to get caught up in binge watching something and forget about things like sleeping, or the ever important feeding his super appetite. Which Tony gets, he really does, he is no stranger to getting wrapped up in something and forgetting everything else, so instead of suggesting Bucky take a break from his marathon at least long enough to get food, Tony just shoves his own plate into Bucky’s lap and leaves his glass of water on the coffee table with a pointed look.

Then he heads back to the kitchen to make another sandwich for himself, waving off Bucky’s stuttered, surprised-sounding thanks and refusing to let himself look back.

It kind of spirals out of control from there.

Tony sticks his head into the gym where, sure enough, Bucky and Steve are still having their stupid push up competition.

“Let’s wrap it up boys, it’s dinner time,” he calls, and then rolls his eyes when they don’t react at all. “Seriously, you’re both impressive, you both win beefiest belle at the ball, you can punch it out later,” Tony adds as he wanders closer, “Let’s go before Thor eats everything and then comes down here to show you both up.”

“Five minutes,” Steve huffs out between push ups, “He’s about to give up.”

“Like hell,” Bucky grumbles and does his next rep one handed so he can swat at Steve. It’s unfairly distracting.

“I’m evicting both of you,” Tony says pleasantly, “Just like I threatened everyone else with eviction until they gave in and agreed to order from that Korean-Mexican fusion place you’re both so obsessed with.”

“What?!” Steve demands, pushing himself upright on his knees to fix Tony with an affronted look, “why didn’t you say that?”

“Ha! I win!” Bucky says, still doing push ups and grinning at Steve smugly.

Steve looks so horribly offended for a second that Tony can’t help snorting in laughter. Then Steve grins wickedly, shoves Bucky over, and makes a break for the door calling “I’m gonna eat all your food, then we’ll see who wins!”

“Still a sore loser,” Bucky says with a sad shake of his head, pushing himself to his feet. A couple strands of loose hair cling to his forehead and fall around his face, his thin shirt clinging to his chest just right, and Tony’s life would be so much easier if he could just not.

Bucky is staring at him, curious tilt to his head, and Tony belatedly remembers to blurt out “Don’t worry Frosted Flakes, I hid your kimchi tacos at the back of the fridge where no one can get to them. Not that I know why anyone would want to.” The wide grin that breaks out across Bucky’s face still makes Tony’s heart thump dangerously, no matter how many times Tony tries to convince himself that it doesn’t, that it won’t next time. It always does.

“Thanks Tony, you’re the best,” Bucky says, all warm and soft and genuine, bumping their shoulders together gently as he heads for the door. Tony trails after him, face flushed and chest warm, and that was totally worth all the trouble of convincing Bruce that Korean-Mexican fusion is not a crime against humanity.

“You need to go lay down,” Tony says for what must be the tenth time since Bucky walked into the lab.

“I’m fine,” Bucky says, again, despite the fact that he is clearly not fine.

Tony waves both hands at Bucky, trying to encompass all of him, the fact that Bucky hasn’t changed or showered since the fight when usually that’s the first thing he does, the way that he’s just kind of standing there letting the bots poke at him instead of chasing them around the lab. “I can hear your spine clicking when you move, and I have normal human ears!” Tony insists.

“No it’s not,” Bucky says, but he’s holding himself suspiciously still. When Tony just stares at him, unimpressed, he adds “it’ll heal.”

“Yeah, if you go lay the fuck down and avoid killing yourself before then,” Tony says, and only barely resists the urge to throw a bolt at him. He’s pretty sure Bucky would just let it hit him in the face right now, and that’s not what Tony is going for. No matter how well it would prove his point.

“No," Bucky says flatly. Tony throws the bolt, and Bucky winces when it bounces off his chest but otherwise refuses to move.

"Then you're going to medical," Tony says, throwing both hands in the air, "I’ll call Steve and he’ll carry you there, don’t think he won’t. He will be delighted to do it."

“I’ll throw ‘im out another window,” Bucky grumbles, and when Tony makes a show of grabbing for his phone Bucky sighs out “fine, fine, I’ll go lay down.”

"Damn straight you will," Tony grumbles under his breath and then blinks in surprise when, instead of heading for the door, maybe back to his room, Bucky slowly makes his way over to the lumpy couch in the corner.

And Tony's not complaining, it absolutely makes sense for Bucky to lay down on the nearest available flat surface, but Tony had really been expecting him to leave. Keep up that friendly distance, and all that. Instead Tony is left just staring dazedly as Bucky lowers him half down onto the couch with a level of care that completely gives away how injured he actually is.

Once Bucky is settled he turns his head where it's propped up on the armrest, only wincing a little, and stares back at Tony. There's something considering in his gaze, and he's probably trying to figure out how long it'll take before Tony gets distracted enough to not notice Bucky making his escape.

After several long seconds of mutual staring, broken only by them both glancing over when DUM-E gets tangled in the blanket he's trying to bring to Bucky and starts beeping in distress, Bucky finally breaks the silence. "Don't I get a cookie?" he asks slowly, innocently, like he has no idea that the reminder sets off an explosion in Tony's chest.

"I already gave you one of my favorite bolts, what more do you want from me?" Tony complains, turning back to his workbench so hopefully Bucky won't notice that his face has no doubt gone bright red.

"Somethin' edible, preferably," Bucky says with a soft laugh that has warmth spreading out from Tony's racing heart and mixing surprisingly well with the sudden influx of butterflies in his stomach.

Tony tells himself that it's fine. They're friends. He's glad that Bucky is comfortable enough to hang out in the lab with him again, making dumb jokes. All Tony has to do is not make it weird. Again. He can totally do that.

He doesn't have any cookies, but Tony does share his terrible energy bars, and when Bucky dares to complain about how terrible they are Tony throws a couple more bolts at him. Injured or not, he can't let that stand.

Eventually Bucky falls asleep, and Tony works as quietly as he can, and it's fine. It’s the closest to fine that Tony has felt in a long time.

Bucky’s nose scrunches up a little in disgust, but he doesn’t say anything. No one else seems to notice, arguing over their exact dinner order like it’s a life or death ordeal. They are all usually armed, in some way, so hell it might be life or death.

Tony slumps a little lower in his armchair, just enough that he can stretch out and kick Bucky lightly in the foot. When Bucky looks over at him Tony gives him an expectant look. When Bucky continues to stare blankly at him Tony does a little ‘go on’ motion with his head, and then kicks Bucky again. Just for good measure.

Bucky’s eyes widen, just a little, and then he blurts out “I hate sushi.” Everyone stops to stare at him, and Tony grins widely.

“What? Since when?” Sam demands, looking personally offended.

“Since always, it’s raw fish,” Bucky replies, throwing a pillow that bounces harmlessly off Thor’s head when Sam ducks. “Just get me some rice or somethin’, ‘s long as it’s cooked,” he adds and easily swats Sam’s return pillow away from him.

Steve immediately starts reading off other options from the menu, and Tony continues grinning all through the rest of the ordering process. He’s a little surprised when he looks over to find Bucky smiling back at him, something small and strangely delicate, and Tony just hopes his face isn’t as warm as it feels, hopes it doesn’t show that he’s melting inside.

Bucky has been giving him this look, lately, and Tony has no idea what it’s supposed to mean. It’s somewhere between surprised and considering, like he’s putting together the pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know he was looking at. It’s mildly terrifying.

If he didn’t know better, Tony would think Bucky has figured out about his super secret crush, but that can’t be right. Bucky had already figured that out... right? And if that was the case he definitely wouldn’t suddenly be hanging out with Tony more, he’d be running even further away.

Tony is kind of tempted to avoid him, avoid that look entirely, because as long as he doesn’t know what it means it can’t mean anything bad. The problem with that plan, is that Bucky is suddenly everywhere he turns.

He stumbles out of his lab and it’s like Bucky is just laying in wait so he can drag Tony to the kitchen for an impressive lunch spread. And then he hangs out, watches while Tony gorges himself on soup and sandwiches and leftover donuts, and when Tony shoves the last donut towards him Bucky’s thoughtful little smile gets wider.

Tony doesn’t know what to do with that, or what to do with the warmth that lingers in his chest all day, growing something that feels dangerously like hope. Maybe he should give that avoidance plan another shot.

He makes it a full day. Mostly by hiding out in his lab the whole time. When he shuffles out, rubbing at his tired eyes and aching everywhere, Bucky is there before he makes it ten steps out of the elevator onto the common floor.

“What have I told you about sleeping?’ Bucky asks with an exasperated sigh that does not at all take away from the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, both hands coming down on Tony’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks. “And don’t say ‘it’s for the weak’, or I swear...”

Tony hums thoughtfully, then grins up at Bucky, who is standing so very close. If Tony were less sleep deprived he’d probably be more worried about that, more worries about what he’s giving away as he leans into Bucky’s chest ever so slightly. “Must have escaped my mind,” he finally says, grinning wider when Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I believe it was that you need to sleep, Tony,” Bucky says and uses the hands still on his shoulders to spin Tony in place and point him back towards the elevator. He leaves his hands on Tony’s shoulders, which is probably a good thing because Tony is dimly aware of the fact that he’s swaying in place. “Go on, before your zombie face scares Bruce again,” Bucky adds with a soft laugh.

“That was one time,” Tony protests, digging in his heels as Bucky starts pushing him towards the doors, “and I’m hungry.” The last part comes out nearly as a whine, and Tony doesn’t even try to stop it because this is all Bucky’s fault in the first place. Him and his regular meal schedules, and his insisting that Tony follow them.

“Nuh uh, I know how you are,” Bucky says, giving him another little shove towards the elevator, “you’ll go to the kitchen and then you’ll get distracted and I’ll find you five hours later half asleep and having a staring contest with your reflection.”

“Again, that was one time, and I had been up for days,” Tony says with a huff, then squeaks when the heels of his worn sneakers slip against the floor and Bucky’s grip on his shoulders is the only thing that keeps him from falling on his ass.

“Go get ready for bed, doll,” Bucky says and he’s definitely laughing now, “an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to eat.”

“I want waffles,” Tony demands petulantly and finally stops leaning back against Bucky’s shoving, starts moving towards the elevator instead.

“Waffles, you got it,” Bucky says, all warm and amused, and his hands finally fall away from Tony’s shoulders. There’s a second where Tony starts to shuffle forward, elevator doors already dinging open, and he hears Bucky start to turn back down the hallway, and then Bucky’s hand lands on his head and Tony freezes in his tracks. He’s not even breathing, just holds himself perfectly still as Bucky ruffles his hair.

When Bucky steps away and his footsteps disappear down the hallway Tony is finally able to drag in a ragged breath and start his forward shuffle again. He spends the entire elevator ride thinking it’s a good thing he’s already half asleep, or he’d be really freaking out right now about what this all means.

Tony is slumped down low on his couch and poking at his phone when Bucky turns up with the promised waffles, but it’s totally worth the wait because the waffles are hot and fluffy and covered with the perfect amount of syrup. After Tony eats them all Bucky smiles at him warmly and says ‘good’, and what’s left of Tony’s poor batted soul feels like its been dipped in warm honey.

Tony doesn’t actually remember falling asleep, and he definitely doesn’t remember Bucky carrying him to bed, but he wakes up later curled under the blankets with his socks still on and oh look at that, he’s awake enough to start freaking out again.

Because Tony had been pretty sure he’d ruined everything, given himself away, and now everything is back to normal. Maybe even better. And Tony has no idea what to do. He doesn’t know what’s changed, and he doesn’t know how to not ruin it again.

Tony is heading for the gym, figuring he might as well accomplish something if he’s too angry to sleep at three in the morning. Sure, he’s exhausted, but maybe if he gets some of this energy out he’ll be able to sleep. And it won’t even be the first time someone has found him blissfully passed out on the gym floor in the morning.

He passes Bucky in the hallway, and it’s somehow both a surprise and not surprising at all when Bucky catches him by the forearm and pulls him to a stop. His eyes move over Tony’s face, and at least this is an expression Tony recognizes, it’s Bucky’s ‘figuring out why Tony can’t sleep’ face, and it’s a game Bucky is disturbingly good at. Even if it’s been awhile since he last played, not that Tony is letting himself think about that. Much.

“Hey freezy-pop, just heading to the gym,” Tony says and aims for an easy smile, but Bucky frowns at him and doesn’t let go. Not that Tony is actually trying to get free, that would mean losing the warmth of Bucky’s skin against his.

“People problem or math problem?” Bucky asks with a crooked little grin and Tony really hopes it doesn’t show how much it makes it heart leap that Bucky knows that.

“People problem,” Tony says before he’s even aware he’s going to say it, and then sighs as it feels like something tense inside him starts to unravel. “Huge people problem. The board is trying to slip some shady shit past me again, and I have to wait until morning to yell at them. Because I’m, and I quote, ‘not allowed to wake the old bastards up to yell at them’ any more. But I want to, I’m all riled up now and I want to bite some heads off.”

Bucky’s smile gets a little toothier and his gaze flickers down for just a second before he says “As much as I enjoy watchin’ you bite heads, prob’ly not a good idea. Might give ‘em a heart attack.”

“Which would be a bad thing, because...” Tony says and waves his hand in a ‘go on’ type motion.

“‘Cause then Pepper will kill you with her shoes,” Bucky says, very seriously, and damnit he’s right. Down to the exact threat Pepper had used, and Tony’s heart gives another little lurch.

“And that is a thing I do not want,” Tony recites with a sad little nod, and then grins when Bucky laughs. “So that’s why I’m going down to the gym. I’m going to imagine their wrinkled old faces on the punch bags. I figure hey, punching bag therapy works for Steve.”

“No it doesn’t,” Bucky says with a snort, then gives Tony’s arm a gentle little tug and says “c’mon, come watch Star Trek with me.”

“You think you can just distract me with Star Trek?” Tony demands, “because you can. What episode are you on now? Should I grab popcorn? What am I saying, of course I should grab popcorn, come on I need your hands.”

“How much popcorn you plannin’ on eating?” Bucky asks, but lets Tony start dragging him towards the kitchen with a smug little smile, like he’s getting exactly what he wanted.

Tony’s heart gives another little leap, and apparently this is his life now. If he dies tonight, it won’t be from an anger induced aneurism, it’ll be from choking on his own stupid heart just because Bucky is taking care of him again. Because Bucky is smiling at him all warm and fond and a little awed, like Tony is the one doing something amazing.

“Also, I love it when math problems keep me up, that’s the dream. The metaphorical dream, obviously,” Tony rattles as he drags Bucky along by way of Bucky’s hand still on his arm, just firm enough to not lose his grip, thumb stroking over the inner bend of Tony’s elbow as he lets out an amused hum.

Bucky doesn’t let go even as they settle onto the couch with their own bowls of popcorn, just shifts his grip down to Tony’s wrist instead, tap his finger against the wild flutter of Tony’s pulse in time with the opening theme. Tony shovels more popcorn into his mouth, mocks the questionable science until Bucky starts good-naturedly shoulder checking him, and doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky’s hand on his wrist is leaching all the tension out of his body better than anything else ever has.

And Tony especially doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky is giving him that look again. Like he’s solving some kind of riddle. Or maybe like he’s already solved it, and he’s just waiting for Tony to ask about the answer. But Tony is terrified to ask, because fuck he doesn’t want to be wrong. Even more terrifying, he’s starting to think he might not be.

Tony isn’t sure how Pepper convinced literally all of the Avengers to dress up to the nines and show up for the fanciest and most painful charity gala of the year. She even got Clint into a tux. Tony does know how she convinced him, at least, which was with threats to both his person and his cars. It was very effective.

Tony is still pondering the mystery as he heads for the common room to round up the rest of the unwilling ceremonial social sacrifices, and instead finds only Bucky struggling with his bow tie. “Either I’m late, or everyone else is extremely late,” Tony says and doesn’t even try to hide his wide grin as he watches Bucky nearly strangle himself.

“It’s both,” Bucky grumbles, yanking at the ends of the bow tie so aggressively Tony is a little surprised the poor thing doesn’t tear, “Some of ‘em were here, but then Bruce spilled his tea all over him an’ Clint, an’ Steve laughed so hard he ripped his shirt. So they all went to change. I think Nat left without us.” Bucky drops his hands to his side and scowls at this reflection in the mirror above the bar, at the lopsided bow hanging loose around his neck.

“That’s why she’s Pepper’s favorite,” Tony says, laughing as much at the story as the defeated slump of Bucky’s shoulders as he starts unknotting the bow tie again. Before Tony can think better of it he’s stepping closer and tugging at Bucky’s arm, all wrapped up in soft black fabric that somehow makes his arms look thicker. “Stop, stop, you’re killing the poor thing,” he says as he grabs for the tie with his free hand.

“Good,” Bucky says with a pout that has no right being so adorable on someone so lethal, “I dunno why it’s bein’ so difficult. I can do a tie no problem, but this?” He whips the bow tie off his neck and eagerly shoves it into Tony’s hand as he declares “bow ties are bullshit. Do you have a clip on around here?”

“Bite your tongue, you heathen,” Tony tells him seriously and forces himself to let go of Bucky’s arm, only dragging his fingers along Bucky’s firm bicep a little in the process. Then he takes a deep breath and steps forward a little closer, until they’re pressed practically chest to chest, and says “Here, let me help you with this before you somehow injure yourself with neckwear.”

“Please,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh, his hand brushing over Tony’s hip just for a second before falling to his side. “I swear I’ve tried fifty times now, you’re my only hope. You always clean up so nice an’ I’m just tryin’ not to make a fool of myself.”

Tony tries to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him. Later, he can work himself up into knots over the fact that Bucky thinks he cleans up nice, thinks he always cleans up nice, like Bucky has been thinking it for a while. But that’s for later, for now he just has to focus on getting this bow tie in place so they can all get over to the stupid gala and live through the stupid night. And then he can go back to his stupid panicked pining.

Focusing on the bow tie turns out to be a little difficult though, because all Tony wants to focus on is Bucky standing so incredibly close to him, the way Bucky is looking at him, eyes half lidded and chin tipped up to give Tony better access to his throat. His first attempt looks even worse, too tight and the bow lopsided, and Bucky barks out a laugh.

“Do you actually know what you’re doing?” Bucky demands, play-swatting at Tony’s stomach, “Are you wearing a clip on?”

“You take that back!” Tony squawks, swatting back at him before he starts aggressively undoing the bow tie again. He needs to get it together, because the longer this takes him the longer he’s standing all up in Bucky’s space, and the more of a blushing mess he’s going to become. And if Bucky hasn’t figured him out already, which is something Tony still can’t get a definite, undeniable read on, then Bucky definitely will now.

Especially because Bucky keeps his head tipped back and smiles lazily in a way that has Tony’s stomach clinging up tight as he asks “Are you trying to kill me, is that what’s happening here?”

“Yes dear,” Tony says, sickeningly sweet, and gives an extra hard tug at one end of the tie, “I’m trying to kill you with a bow tie. Slowly.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, but his smirk gets wider and wider and finally Tony huffs out “Turn around, I can’t work like this.”

“Sure, much easier to strangle me from behind,” Bucky says agreeably as he spins in place to face the mirror again, and his reflection fixes Tony with an expectant look.

Before he can talk himself out of it Tony steps forward and up onto his toes, hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder to properly see what he’s doing in the mirror, and brings both arms up over Bucky’s shoulders. From this angle it only takes a couple seconds to get the bow tie perfectly centered and secured around Bucky’s neck, just like it only takes a couple seconds for Tony’s pulse to jump up to truly unsafe levels.

“There, told you I know what I’m doing,” he says with a smug grin and then can’t quite seem to pull himself away, can’t seem to break eye contact with Bucky’s reflection.

“Looks perfect, thanks doll,” Bucky says, low and warm, and raises one hand to gently grab Tony’s forearm where it’s still draped over his chest. Like he doesn’t want Tony to pull away.

“So how did Pepper talk you into this?” Tony blurts, which, all things considered, is probably the least damaging thing he could blurt out right about now.

“She pointed out that if the Avengers look good, it helps your company look good,” he says, like that’s any kind of explanation, still staring Tony right in the eye like that’s supposed to mean something.

“That- that’s not- what-,” Tony says, startled, taking an instinctive step back. Bucky doesn’t let go of his arm, just turns back to face him with his mouth already open to protest. “Seriously,” Tony says, cutting him off and feeling a little frantic for reasons he can’t name, doesn’t want to name, “That’s not something you need to worry about, what- why would that-“

“Hey,” Bucky says, soft like Tony is some kind of spooked animal, which, okay, that feels pretty fair right now. When Bucky gives his arm a little tug Tony steps closer, completely helpless against it. Then Bucky’s other hand is on his face, fingertips just barely brushing Tony’s cheek, the line of his throat, and cool metal thumb pressed oh-so-gently beneath Tony’s chin nudging his head up to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Hey,” he says again, “I want t’ make you look good, okay? ‘S the least we can do after all you do to make us look good. ‘Cause I know that can’t be easy.”

Tony just gapes uselessly for a second, breath caught in his chest, and he’s not sure when he grabbed two handfuls of Bucky’s tux jacket, but he doesn’t think he could let go if he tried. Finally he manages to drag in a shaking break and stutter out “w-we?”

Bucky smirks a little wider, taps his thumb against Tony’s chin, and confesses “I may have helped Pepper ‘talk’ some of ‘em into it.”

And Tony is right back to useless gaping, because what the fuck is he supposed to do with that?! Tony has never expected the rest of the team to worry about the effect their Avenging has on SI, that’s his responsibility, his problem to deal with, and he has the growing feeling that Bucky is trying to tell him something here but Tony is too busy trying not to hyperventilate to figure out what the fuck it is-

“I’m about to enter the common room!” Comes a sudden shout from the hallway, and Tony startles so hard that Bucky’s hand still on his arm is the only thing that keeps him from toppling over. “Please no one throw tea at me this time!” The voice continues and oh, that’s Clint. Of course, because they’re waiting for the rest of the team. Who will be here any minute, and Tony should probably get it together already.

“That was your own fault, an’ I think you know it,” Bucky calls back, smiling just a little ruefully as he drops his hands back to his sides. Tony untangles his hands from Bucky’s jacket and has to resist the urge to smooth out the slight wrinkles he’s left in the lapels.

“Now hold on just a minute,” Clint says as he bursts into the room to defend himself, wrinkled suit jacket only half on and waving a finger at Bucky and Tony sees his chance.

Tony runs. Sure, he says he’s going to get Bruce, but it is absolutely just a cowardly flee. He just needs a minute, he just needs to breathe, needs to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do with all the hope growing wild and unchecked in his lungs.

Tony gets home from a business trip and he honestly has no idea what time it is. He doesn’t even know what day it is, the only things he knows are that he’s jet lagged as all hell, and that he just wants to sleep.

When he gets to the penthouse there’s takeout from his favorite Italian place waiting on the table, still warm. There’s also a note that says ‘be a good boy and eat before you pass out for 12 hours’. It’s not signed, but at this point it really doesn't need to be.

He honestly doesn’t know what he’s expecting at this point, when he send a photo of the empty containers to Bucky with the caption ‘I want a cookie when I wake up.’

What Tony gets is an almost immediate response in the form of a picture of one of those chocolate-and-peanut-butter monstrosities that he loves, followed by a text that says ‘see you in 13 hours sweet thing’.

Tony wakes up almost exactly thirteen hours later, and he’s so far past wondering how Bucky does that. He’s also so far past his ‘avoid Bucky’ plan, all he wants to do is go find Bucky, get his cookie, and maybe even get the feeling of Bucky’s fingers ruffling his hair again.

So he does.

He’s heading for the elevator to leave for a press conference when Bucky and Natasha suddenly appear in his way, arms crossed and matching terrifying assassin glowers on their faces.

“Seriously, bells,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with the hand not clutching his to-go cup, “bells for everybody, I can’t live like this. I have a heart condition.”

They don’t laugh, but it’s not the usual ‘Tony please don’t joke about your heart condition’ not-laughing, and Tony is instantly on high alert, because something is going on here and he has a feeling he’s not going to like it.

The feeling only gets stronger when Bucky actually hesitates before slowly saying “I know you already talked t’ Pepper about this-“

“No,” Tony says instantly and he can’t believe he ever thought it was kind of sweet that Bucky talks to Pepper, that was clearly going to come back to bite him in the ass some day. Sure enough Natasha pulls out the very same body armor shirt Pepper had been waving at him this morning and Tony groans out “no.”

“You’re wearing the armor,” Natasha says flatly, and it’s completely unsurprising that she’s the one playing bad cop here.

“I am not wearing the armor,” Tony returns, just as flat, “because why would I? It’s a press conference, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could get shot again,” Bucky bursts out and his face is doing something truly fascinating, like he’s cycling through emotions too quickly for any of them to properly settle.

Tony can’t help rolling his eyes a little, because are they still on that? “What’re the odds that’ll happen again?” he says dismissively, “Smart assassins never try the same move twice, you know that frosty.”

Bucky’s face twitches harder and okay, apparently they are not yet to the point of joking about Tony’s recent gunshot wounds. Noted. “If you don’t wear the armor? Odds’re pretty damn high,” he growls out and yep, he’s even got his angry-eyebrows on. That’s usually reserved for Steve-levels of stupidity.

“You made this, it's the same material you use for all our gear,” Natasha points out, and okay, maybe she’s not ‘bad cop’ so much as ‘rational cop’. She holds the armor out to him, one eyebrow raised, and demands “are you saying it’s not good enough?”

“That is not what I’m saying, and I think you know it,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes because oh, that’s a low blow, how dare she imply he’d put his team in anything but the best. Her challenging smirk only gets wider, so Tony sniffs and drags his free hand over his chest as he says “I just don’t want to ruin the lines of my suit.”

“It’s the size of an undershirt, your figure will be fine,” Natasha says, but her lips twitch ever so slightly upwards.

Bucky remains staunchly unamused. “Yeah, I’m just gonna put the armor on you myself,” he says with a decisive nod, and Natasha gleefully hands it over.

“I’ll throw my coffee on you,” Tony warns, holding it up like a shield and taking a step back, “it won’t accomplish much, but then you’ll have to listen to me bitch about how I don’t have my coffee anymore. I might even cry.” Bucky keeps advancing on him, armor in hand and a determined look in his eye, so Tony pretends to fumble with the lid of his cup and warns “I’m talking ugly crying here, Bucky-bear, you’ve seen me without my coffee, it’ll be embarrassing for everyone, and-“

"Tony," Bucky snaps, standing right in front of him now, voice low and rough and cracking ever so slightly, "be a good boy and wear the damn armor!”

Tony's stupid heart trips all over itself. Natasha is somehow suddenly all the way down the hall, pointedly ignoring them while sipping Tony’s coffee, and when did she even steal that, and she is very clearly blocking Tony’s escape route. Not that Tony could actually flee right now if he wanted to, he’s much too busy just trying to stay standing under the force of the hot flush that rushes over him, stomach clenching hard and blood roaring in his ears. Tony can’t find the air to reply, can only stare, and Bucky’s face crumples a little further.

“Please, doll? I gotta know you’re safe, I can’t-'' Bucky cuts himself off, clenching his jaw, and Tony feels some confusing mix of horrified and elated. Because of course he feels terrible that he’s the reason for the terrified, pleading look in Bucky’s eyes, the reason Bucky’s right hand trembles slightly as he gives the body armor held between them a little shake. But on the other hand, Tony is the one who made Bucky look like that, cracked open and vulnerable, Tony did that. And oh, he knows that Bucky is letting it show, for him, it’s a gift that he hears the way Bucky’s breath hitches as he pleads “Just- jus’ do this for me? Be good and wear th’ damn armor so I can feel like you’re safe, will you do that?”

Fuck, Tony is pretty sure he’s going to die, he’s pretty sure the entire tower can hear the way his heart is racing in his chest, He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond to that, because all he really wants to do is take that single step it would require to bury his face in Bucky’s chest. But Tony knows he has to say something, anything, Bucky is still staring at him like he’s waiting for an answer, and it nearly knocks him off his feet all over again when he realizes Bucky has been waiting for an answer from him for a while now.

"O-okay," Tony finally manages, voice weak around the way his heart is lodged somewhere in this throat and already shrugging off his jacket so he can just take the stupid god damn armor.

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, voice pitched low, gaze heavy, so much in that simple question. It’s so new and so familiar and Tony is already nodding because oh fuck yes, anything Bucky is offering, anything he wants, yes.

Tony has to swallow thickly a couple times before he can actually say “Yeah, I- I can do that. Wearing the armor, being safe.” Being good, he doesn’t say, but Bucky’s eyes darken like he heard it anyways. Once Tony has finished tugging off his jacket and tie Bucky takes them from his shaking hands, and Tony can only manage a vague huff of protest as Bucky carelessly drapes them over his own shoulder and makes an impatient gesture with his free hand.

And here’s the thing, Tony is not generally what people would call ‘shy’. He left his shame far behind him about a decade or two ago and never looked back. But it’s Bucky, and he just keeps staring as Tony starts fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and Tony has a terrible feeling the flush on his face is spreading down his neck. He’s more or less gotten used to the scars that litter his torso, his teammates have all seen them and on a good day Tony even forgets they exist. He’s still getting used to the three new freshly-healed bullet holes scattered across his stomach, so of course that’s right where Bucky’s eyes settle and it’s all Tony can do not to fidget, not to snatch his shirt back out of Bucky’s hand.

Bucky’s fingers are warm as they trace over the shiny new skin, ticklishly light and unbearably gentle. “Jus’ wanna feel like I’m protectin’ you,” he says, voice barely more than a sigh, and Tony wants to protest that it’s not his fault but he can’t find the air. Instead all he can do is nod, scared to breathe too hard in case it dislodges Bucky’s fingers from tracing the edges of each slightly raised scar. Tony can’t help the soft noise he makes when Bucky’s hand falls back to his side, already mourning the loss of contact, and Bucky smirks just a little as he says “Arms up, babydoll.”

Tony definitely hears Natasha snort, somewhere down the hallway, but it’s pretty low on the scale of her ‘insulting snorts’ and Tony really doesn’t care right now. He’s too busy throwing his arms up so quickly that it’s a miracle he doesn’t smack Bucky in the face or dislocate his shoulder or something equally ridiculous. Bucky smirks a little wider but doesn’t say anything, just carefully slips the deceptively thin body armor onto Tony’s arms and then gently lowers it down over his head.

Bucky makes sure the armor is pulled all the way down, big hands running over Tony’s hips and the small of his back, and then hands back Tony’s shirt. “There y’ go, nice and safe for me,” Bucky says almost absently as he fixes Tony’s hair and Tony is mostly still just marveling at the open relief in Bucky’s eyes.

“You’re only paranoid because I’m an average squishy human,” Tony tries to accuse, mostly to distract from the way his hands are shaking as he does up his buttons, but it comes out wobbly because even he doesn't believe that anymore.

Bucky’s lips quirk up like he knows Tony doesn’t really think that, but he still says “Nah, I worry cuz its you,” voice soft, like he needs to be sure that Tony knows. His eyes are dark as he watches Tony settle the knot of his tie against the hollow of his throat, and Tony’s hands are shaking so badly that Bucky has to help him get his jacket back in place. “Didn’t even ruin th’ lines of your suit,” he adds with a smug little grin, running both wide palms down Tony’s chest, fingers spread wide, and there’s no way he can’t feel the way Tony’s heart is trying to beat straight out of his chest.

“Lucky for you,” Tony says, voice equally soft, and when Bucky’s hands fall away he drags in a ragged breath.

“Lucky me,” Bucky repeats absently, like he’s talking about something else entirely, and then leans forward. His grip is firm but gentle as he cups the back of Tony’s head with one hand, his lips are dry and soft against Tony’s temple, and Tony freezes up all over again. “Thank you, Tony,” he whispers, lips moving against Tony’s skin and sending shivers down his spine, “always so good for me.”

Tony makes a sound that he refuses to categorize as a whimper, and Bucky pulls away smiling amused and warm and amazed. When Tony steps onto the elevator he’s still trying to catch his breath, but his hands are steady.

“You should date me,” Tony blurts out that night, because he can’t not, anymore. Because he’d smiled like a loon all the way through the press conference, face still warm, and at the end Pepper had asked him if he had a concussion, half serious and half knowingly smug. Because the warm flutter in his chest still hasn’t faded. Because Bucky has been giving him that look, and Tony thinks he’s finally figured it out.

Bucky just blinks at him for a second, and okay yeah, maybe Tony could have picked a slightly better place than the middle of the kitchen. At one in the morning. When they’re both in worn pajamas, odds are unfortunately pretty good that Tony has the remains of his PB&J sandwich smeared around his mouth.

He probably could have picked some better words too, so Tony scrambles desperately for some and all he comes up with is “Or, I should date you. We should date each other. No, I mean- yes, but- fuck-“

“Yeah,” Bucky says, cutting him off and still blinking at him like he’s vaguely dazed. “Yeah, we- us. Dating. Yes. Okay.”

Tony blinks back at him, because that sounded a lot like Bucky agreeing to date him, but it also sounds a lot like he just broke Bucky’s brain. “Are you sure?” Tony has to ask, shuffling on his feet a little, “Because-“

“What- yes,” Bucky says, surprisingly vehement, lurching up from the stool he’s been sitting on. Tony dares to let a wide smile start spreading across his face. Still-

“I’ll be a good boyfriend,” he offers helpfully, and really wishes he could sound more sure of that. He’s damn sure going to do his best.

Bucky is up and across the kitchen in an instant, taking Tony’s face in his big, deadly, gentle hands and breathing out “Tony.” He’s moved from looking dazed to looking something almost like awed and he says “Tony, doll, you are already so good to me, I just want you.”

Tony shudders all over and he’s not sure when his hands landed on Bucky’s waist but he’s holding on for dear life. “Bucky,” he sighs, and then, because he’s weak, he begs “Say it again.”

And oh, Tony just knew that Bucky knew what he was doing, and he gets his proof because instantly Bucky tightens his grip, drags his fingers along the hollows behind Tony’s ears. “Gonna be my good boy, yeah?” he asks, breath hot against Tony’s lips, eyes dark and intent, smirk to die for.

“Oh,” Tony gasps and when he shivers Bucky just holds him tighter, pulls him closer, until Tony’s eyes fall closed and he’s clinging helplessly to the broad muscle of Bucky’s back. “I- oh,” he gasps again when Bucky’s thumbs trace along his cheekbones, barely catching his eyelashes, and Bucky’s answering laugh is everything. It’s happy and amazed in a way that makes Tony's chest warm and fluttery, dark and just a little condescending in a way that makes his guy tighten up in heated want.

“I see you, Tony,” Bucky says, low and rough and insistent, “I see everything you do for us, for everyone.” His lips trace the line of Tony’s brow in soft, feather-light kisses, and his voice is barely more than a breath when he adds “For me. Gonna be good an’ let me take care of you back?”

Tony is caught between the urge to nod frantically and the need to stay exactly where he is, Bucky’s hands cupping his face like the most precious thing he’s ever held, so instead he croaks out “Yeah, I- I can- fuck I want that.” Tony cracks his eyes open again, because it’s overwhelming, and he doesn’t want to miss it.

Bucky smiles, happy and proud and heated and a million other things that have warmth spreading through Tony’s chest, curling up tight in his gut, lighting up his entire body. “Can I kiss you, baby?” he asks, lips nearly close enough to touch already, and when Tony throws himself forward Bucky catches him easily, left hand sliding to the small of Tony’s back and pulling him in closer.

The first press of lips is electric, has Tony sighing out a soft noise and then Bucky’s hand still cupping his jaw tilts his head a little further back and Bucky licks his way into his mouth with a slow, consuming determination. Tony clings harder to Bucky’s shirt where it stretches tight across his shoulders and hangs on for all he’s worth, tries to catch Bucky’s tongue between his teeth and shudders when Bucky growls low in his throat.

Bucky’s thigh slots between Tony’s like it belongs there and Tony breaks away from the kiss with a shaking groan as he abruptly realizes that he’s achingly hard, soft cotton of his sweats damp and clinging and amazing. “O-oh, shit-“ Tony gasps out, helpless against the way his hips jerk forwards just once to grind himself against that thick thigh. “God, Bucky-“ he whines, ducking his head to pant against the curve of Bucky’s shoulder and then bites back a desperate noise when Bucky’s thigh nudges up against him a little harder.

“Tha’s real sweet baby, sound so good,” Bucky sighs out as his lips move over Tony’s hairline, down his temple, his breath as heated as his words. He shifts his hand a little lower, spreads his fingers wide over the curve of Tony’s ass and pulls him in encouragingly as he growls “C’mon doll, don’t stop, lemme hear you makin' all those pretty noises for me.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice, rolls his hips forward again with another muffled groan. “Bucky, oh my god-“ he whines and presses closer, until he can feel Bucky’s cock nudged up thick and hot against his hip. His legs shake and he just clenches them tighter around Bucky’s thigh, tucks his face into Bucky’s throat and grinds himself forward. The sweet friction against his cock has Tony gasping again, shuddering all over as fire races up his spine and his head spins.

“Good, so good sweet thing, fit so perfect against me, gonna take such good care of you, treat you just right,” Bucky says against the shell of his ear and presses his thigh up a little further, digs his metal fingers a little harder into the swell of Tony’s ass and pulls in time with the roll of Tony’s hips against him. When Tony moans and clutches at him tighter Bucky chuckles again, low and dark, and drags his calloused thumb along the line of Tony’s jaw as he asks ”Damn you’re easy for me, ain’t ya? Gonna come like this, grindin’ against me all desperate and shakin’ for it?”

It sends another wave of heated, slightly-embarrassed arousal crashing over Tony and all he can do is whine again because unless Bucky is planning on stopping him, then he absolutely is. At this point Tony couldn't stop himself if he wanted to, cock throbbing and leaking as he grinds himself against Bucky’s thigh, panting hot against the curve of Bucky’s throat.

He can already feel his orgasm building fast, feels like it’s been building forever now, and his voice is shaking as hard as the rest of him as he moans out “Bucky- please, I- I’m, I can’t, please-“ Bucky silences him with a scrape of his teeth over the shell of Tony’s ear that has him practically collapsing against Bucky’s chest, limp except for the way he can’t stop rutting himself against Bucky’s thigh, chasing the sparks that light up his body.

Bucky laughs again, just a low, warm rumble in his chest, and presses another kiss to Tony’s eyebrow before saying “You’re this worked up you better come for me now, babydoll. ‘Cuz I’m gonna take you upstairs an’ take my time with you, make you feel as good as you deserve an’ put you to bed real sweet, how does that sound baby?”

He somehow makes it sound like both a promise and a threat, and Tony chokes out a noise caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. “Y-yeah, fuck yeah that- oh- fuck please-“ Bucky’s fingers press a little more firmly against the base of his skull, sliding through his hair, and Tony feels like he’s burning.

“Good,” Bucky says, an uneven hitch to his breath and Tony can feel the way Bucky’s cock throbs against him, “Fuck, you’re so good sweet thing, so perfect, feel so good, sounds so sweet for me, c’mon Tony, wanna feel you fall apart for me.”

Every word settles hot in Tony’s gut, has his head spinning faster until all he knows is Bucky’s voice in his ear, Bucky’s hands firm and demanding against him, the rush of his own blood in his ear as the pressure builds inside him. His sweats are going to be ruined and Tony doesn’t give a fuck because he’s so close, thin cotton already soaked and clinging to his cock, thrusts of his hips gone short and uncoordinated as his fingers scramble at Bucky’s back.

“Bucky,” he moans out, completely shameless, and drags his teeth over the line of Bucky’s throat, just because he can. Because Tony still kind of can’t believe the way Bucky shakes and groans against him, pulls him in harder and meets every roll of Tony’s hips with one of his own. “God, you’re so- I, I can’t believe- oh- Wanted you so long-“

“I know,” Bucky says, surprisingly soft and something almost like sheepish. He presses his thumb a little harder to the underside of Tony’s chin and tips his head up again, making Tony gasp at the rush of cool air over his flushed face even as he keeps his eyes squeezed shut because it’s so much. He’s so close to breaking apart at every seam. Bucky’s lips brush against his and Tony whimpers even as Bucky says “I see you now baby, been taking care of me for so long, haven’t you? Been so good, takin’ care of yourself so perfect for me, shit- you’re so good for me doll.”

“Bucky,” he gasps again, so close to the edge, every inch of him tingling, burning, so close-

“Look at me, Tony,” Bucky says, barest edge of a demand to his voice and it still has Tony prying his eyes open instantly. Then he groans weakly because Bucky is right there, blue eyes gone nearly dark, wild and hungry and fixed on him like there’s nothing else in the world as he breathes out “now be a good boy and come for me.”

Tony’s orgasm hits him overwhelming and inevitable, leaves him moaning breathlessly and clinging to Bucky impossibly tighter. Bucky’s hand on his ass keeps pulling him in, dragging it out until Tony is shaking and nearly sobbing into the feather light brush of Bucky’s lips against his own as Bucky calls him ‘good’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘gorgeous’.

As soon as he gets back the bare minimum brain cells Tony tips his chin up to kiss Bucky again, blissed out and lazy and it makes him shiver all over again when Bucky clutches at him tighter with a deep groan. Tony has to break away from the kiss sooner than he’d like because he still hasn’t quite caught his breath, hasn’t been able to get his hips to stop twitching forward as aftershocks race through him.

“Damn,” Bucky sighs, one hand petting at Tony’s hair and the other gentling against his waist as Tony slumps against him fully, “Good boy, so good baby, so perfect for me. Let’s get you up into bed, huh? Spread you out real nice and get my mouth on every inch of you.”

And that sounds good, it really does, but Tony can still feel Bucky’s cock thick and hard and throbbing against his hip, and he wants it now. So instead Tony drops to his knees, moving quick enough that he slides easily out of Bucky’s lax grip, presses his face to Bucky’s hip and nuzzles his cheek against the clear outline of Bucky cock through his thin pajamas.

“Fuck-“ Bucky gasps and his fingers tighten in Tony’s hair, holding him in place as his hips jerk forwards. “Damn what a sight you make, you want it that bad, doll?”

Tony turns his head just enough to look up at Bucky, lips moving against the hard line of Bucky’s cock, and he’s never meant anything more as he breathes out “Please, honey.”

Bucky’s eyes get impossibly darker and his cock throbs, the scent of him thick and heady and Tony’s mouth is watering. “We’re still in the kitchen, baby,” Bucky points out, but he’s already hooking his thumb into the front of his pants.

“I can be quick,” Tony promises, smirking a little because Bucky’s hips keep twitching forward against him, parajams visibly wet where they pull tight over the head of his cock, and this isn’t going to take long at all. And Tony really, really doesn’t care right now that he’s in the kitchen in a tower full of insomniacs, all he cares about his getting his mouth on Bucky, making Bucky feel as amazing as he does.

Bucky groans out something that was probably meant to be Tony’s name, but Tony has more important things to focus on because Bucky shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring free and Tony wastes no time trying to choke himself on it. He’s so loose-limbed and orgasm-dazed that when Bucky’s cock nudges at the back of his throat Tony just keeps going, only gags a little even as his eyes water and a whine builds in his chest.

“Oh- fuck Tony, so good, you’re so good baby, so- fuck-“ Bucky’s every word comes out rough and gasping and his fingers dig harder into the back of Tony’s neck, hips jerking forward like he just can’t help himself.

Tony moans encouragingly and clings to his hips, presses his nose to Bucky’s stomach and swallows around his cock. Bucky pulls back and then thrusts himself deep into Tony’s throat with another shuddering groan. Then he does it again, and again, until Tony has spit and precome sliding down his chin and arousal building again, almost painful, in his gut.

“Good, fuck you feel so good, you’re so- Tony-“ The way Bucky groans out the compliments, practically snarls his name, sends a hot shiver down Tony’s spine and has shaking all over again.

There’s a desperate moan caught in Tony’s chest that comes bursting out of him when Bucky abruptly tightens his fingers in Tony’s hair and yanks him back, leaves Tony panting for breath. His protest dies away when he opens his eyes and meets Bucky’s gaze, dark and ravenous.

“Open up, sweet thing,” Bucky growls, metal hand flying over his cock and his other hand still holding Tony in place, so close to the flushed, leaking head of Bucky’s cock and yet so far.

Tony doesn’t even need to think before he lets his aching jaw fall all the way open and he doesn’t care that his face is wet, constant pleading noises slipping out of his raw throat. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling on the hard tile of the kitchen with his own come cooling in his sweats, all he cares about is getting more.

“Good boy,” Bucky gasps, and then finally comes. It streaks warm across Tony’s chin, the bridge of his nose, into his open mouth, and Tony lets his eyes fall closed again with a pleased moan as he runs his tongue over his lip, chasing the musky taste of him. “Fuck- shit, oh, Tony-“ the way Bucky groans out his name is going to stick with Tony for a long, long time, ringing in his ears, lighting him up, and Tony wants to hear it forever.

He’s still catching his breath when Bucky pulls him to his feet, into his arms, and Tony is all too happy to wrap his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, his shaking legs around Bucky’s waist, and let Bucky take his weight. “Okay, now we can go upstairs,” Tony slurs out as he drops his forehead to Bucky’s shoulder, voice rough, still feeling like he’s floating on air.

Bucky laughs, quiet and rumbling, and his hand is so gentle on the back of Tony’s head again as he tucks Tony’s face down into the curve of his neck. It’s definitely smearing Bucky’s shirt in come but if Bucky doesn’t mind then Tony certainly doesn’t care, just snuggles in closer and wonders if it’s actually possible for his heart to swell straight out of his chest.

“Whatever you want, babydoll,” Bucky says, warm and fond, presses a quick kiss to the side of Tony’s head and then starts carrying him towards the elevators. “Gonna take such good care of you, my good boy.”

Tony is pretty sure it’s not physically possible to get any closer, but he wraps himself tighter around Bucky and gives it his best shot and he mumbles “Gonna take care of you back.”

“I know you are, sweet thing, ‘s what makes you amazing,” Bucky says with another warm laugh, and Tony could probably argue that, because he’s really not, but he decides to let Bucky have this one.

For now. Apparently, they’ll have plenty of time to debate it later, over dates, and Tony is so looking forward to it.

Tony wakes up sore in places he didn’t even know he had, teeth marks on his shoulders and stubble burn on his thighs and just- deliriously happy. He can’t even try to convince himself it was some kind of crazy dream, because the physical evidence is kind of overwhelming. The other half of his bed is still warm, and there’s a telling clattering sound coming from his kitchen, and Tony decides he can afford to let himself lay here grinning at the ceiling like a loon for a while.

Soon enough Bucky is back with a giant plate of waffles and a wide smile, pausing in the doorway to drag his eyes down Tony’s bare chest. His hair is a mess and he’s unbearably gorgeous, and Tony smiles back as he realizes he can say it now.

“A beautiful man and breakfast? Help, my heart can’t take it,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with one hand even as he makes grabby motions at Bucky with the other.

“Not funny,” Bucky says, but he’s laughing as he sets the plate down on the nightstand and crawls back into bed, into Tony’s arms, and he’s still smiling softly when Tony pulls him into a kiss.

#The one where bucky gives tony a cookie and then watches him eat it #as i call it in my head #winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks #my fic

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cnchoebaby · 5 years

Text

One Shot - Erick Brian Colon

A/n: This is for @girlbabyvelez ‘s writing challenge im posting a few minutes late im so so sorry i had to repost it 20 times im so sorry i hope its okayyhh. I had one shot by prettymuch i hope i did it justice, my lyric prompt is in bold <333 congragts bbyyyy ily and you deserve it and much more<333333

word count: 1508

warnings: slight smut

You laid there, his chest pressed against your back. His hand sitting on your hip, his fingers lightly drawing patterns on your hip, soothing you. Your bodies sticky with sweat from your previous actions, this was just a regular friday night you had with Erick. For the past few months he’d decided that you hadn’t been given enough attention from your boyfriend.

Your phone began to ring on bedside table beside you, picking it up you saw it was your boyfriend. You panicked, Erick looking over your shoulder and groaning when he saw who it was. You shushed him and answered the call.

“Hey Alex.” you said a little overly enthusiastic, as if a way to compensate for the situation.

“Hey y/n, are you home? I was gonna stop by an-”

“Oh I’m not home. I’m at, uhm, Melanie’s house.” Erick stifled a laugh. You gave his arm a shove, telling him to be quiet. He took this as a challenge.

Suddenly you felt Erick’s hand move from your hip down to your thigh. He began to softly stroke up and down, moving closer to your inner thigh. Slowly, he moved his hand between your legs. His fingers found their way to your clit having been there moments before. It took everything in you not you moan at his actions.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were seeing her today, okay, I’ll stop by and see you.”

“No,” You practically screamed through the phone. “Actually I’m about to leave soon, I’ll be home in about an hour.” As soon as you said this you felt his finger slide into you, he pumped in and out.

“Okay then, can I come over later? I miss you baby I feel like I don’t see you as much anymore.”

“Yeah, sure, I miss you too. Come over at 8.” As if almost to mock you, Erick added another finger. “Actually make that 9, um Melanie needs me to stay a little longer.”

“Alright, I can’t wait to see you. I’ll bring over some snacks and maybe we can watch a movie or something, okay?”

Erick quickened his pace, causing you to bite your lip to silence a whimper threatening to escape.

“Mmhm,” just to make things harder for you Erick began leaving open mouth kisses down your arm. “That sounds fine baby, I’ll see you then.”

“I love you y/n.”

And just like that, you couldn’t bare to hear those words while having Erick doing what he was doing. You move his hands away from you and sat at the edge of the bed, hearing Erick scoff.

“I love you too. Bye baby.” You hung up before hearing your boyfriend say bye back.

You heard Erick get off the bed and walk to the bathroom. He returned moments later with a pair of boxer shorts on and a disappointing look on his face.

“Im sorry Erick, I just-” you tried to find the right words. “I couldn’t hear him say ‘I love you’ while you, you know. It’s like my heart broke for him.”

“It’s been months y/n, when are you going to break up with him. Why won’t you just be with me and only me?”

A lump began to form in your throat. What were you supposed to say? Things were complicated. You had been with your boyfriend since you were fourteen, four years later and he was all you had known. That was until Erick came along.

Throughout your relationship you and Alex had your ups and downs. Countless fights about him not giving you enough attention, or him constantly blowing you off for his douchebag friends. When you met Erick he quickly became your friend, a close confidant. You told him everything, your secrets, desires, troubles. He secretly began harboring feelings and one day, whilst you were in the middle of ranting about Alex, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a kiss. A kiss filled with more passion and electricity than you had felt in the past year and a half with your boyfriend.

“Erick you have to understand, I love you I do, but I love him too.”

“How do you expect me to believe that? You say you love me but every time you leave me you go back to him.” you could hear the hurt in his voice. “Am I not enough for you?”

“Of course you are. I-I just,” You didn’t know what to say. You did love Erick, and he had treated you better than you’d ever been treated.

“I know he knows about me y/n. Maybe he doesn’t know what we do but he knows. Why else would you lie and say you were at Melanie’s?”

You were caught. “Okay, so maybe he might suspect something. So what?” Erick let out a dry laugh.

“I bet you told 'em we were nothing, so why'd you tell me we were something?”

You placed your hand on Erick’s cheek, looking into his bright green eyes. Your heart was aching, you could see the pain in his eyes. You tilted your head up and kissed his forehead.

“I gotta go, I love you.”

Getting up from the bed you gathered your clothes, picking up Ericks grey shirt along too and shrugged it on. You quickly finished getting dressed and left.

You drove home in silence trying to work out the situation in your head. On one hand you had your first love, your first everything. Although he wasn’t perfect you two had been through everything together. Alex had seen you through some low points and still been there. He was your best friend, your longest friend.

Then there was Erick, the man who made you forget about those four years the second you see him. The man who loved you, cared for you. Every single second being with him made you feel alive. Every kiss filled with passion. Every touch sending sparks throughout your body.

When you got home you still hadn’t made up your mind. You’d only been alone all of 30 minutes before you heard a loud knock on your door. You opened it to see the joyous face of your boyfriend. A pile of snacks in his hand, some of them almost falling. You let out a tiny laugh.

“A little help?” Alex chuckled.

You took a few things from his hands and walked to the living room, him following shortly behind you.

“So, I was thinking we could watch that new movie that Netflix has, the stand something.”

“Uh huh, sure.” you fake smiled.

Alex smiled and leaned over, placing a kiss on your lips. It was a quick peck, which was all you two had given each other lately. He grabbed the remote and began to put on the movie.

—————————————————

The movie was already halfway over, Alex had laughed at a joke the main character had made but you hadn’t been paying attention. Alex noticed you we in your own thoughts.

“Hey,” he nudged your arm, “you okay?”

“We need to talk”

“Oh boy, this isn’t gonna end well, is it?” he laughed. When he saw the seriousness on your face, his smile dropped.

“Alex, I think we,” this was harder than you imagined. Another lump forming in your throat. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, and I love you too baby.”

“But I think, I think we’ve run our course.” He was about to interrupt you before you spoke again. “Just hear me out. I love you and I always will. You were my first everything and you’ll always have a special place in my heart. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep acting like I don’t deserve better. You’ve been so distant and I deserve more. I’m sorry.”

He just sat there. For a moment you were scared what his reaction was going to be.

“I’m sorry. You do deserve more.”

You two talked for a while, ending on a soft note. The first thing you did when he left was hopped into your car, speeding over to Ericks. You jumped out and ran to his door, knocking furiously.

It took him a second to open it, “Y/n, what are you doing here? Its 1am? Arent you supposed to be with Alex?”

You just smashed your lips into his. He was surprised at first but quickly kissed you back.

“Its you Erick. I choose you.”

He smile and picked you up, bringing you through the door, kissing you again, spinning you around.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. I love you Erick, so much. So much that it hurts me. I haven’t felt like this in so long but its worth it, just to be with you.”

“I don’t care how long it took, you’re here with me now, thats all that matters” he smiled and looked into your eyes. The amount of emotion in them made you feel safe, happy, loved.

TAGLIST: @esmejha108 @cnco-no-me-sueltes (jfhej you asked me a while ago to be on my taglist idk if you remember or still want to be but hi brianajfhd)

#erick cnco #erick brian colon fanfic #erick brian colon imagine #erick brian colon #cnco fanfics #cnco fic #cnco imagines #cnco #noeswritingchallenge

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marvel-mega · 5 years

Text

Neighbors (Peter Parker x reader)

authors note: hey guys this is one of my older fics that I forgot to post I guess? hope you guys like it !

word count: 2885

You had been neighbors with peter since elementary school but it wasn't until seventh grade that you realized your windows lined up. One day while you were doing homework on a desk that conveniently looked out that exact window peter threw some pebbles to get your attention. ‘Um, Hi?’ you said confused why this cute boy tried getting your attention. ‘I’m P-peter.’ ‘Hi Peter. I’m (Y/N).’ you smiled hoping a friendship came from this small interactions.’ What school are you gonna go to in the fall, (Y/N)?’ ‘Uh Hardy Middle School. What about you peter?’ You kept saying his name hoping you won't forget it as a way to remind yourself that this was real. ‘Me too!’ “Ugh awesome I don't have very many friends.’ ‘I'll be your friend, (Y/N).’ and the rest is history. Or maybe it could be more?

‘PETERRRRRRRR’ you yelled from your window truly not caring who heard. ‘If you don’t get up I will leave without you.’ you said in your normal tone. ‘Peter appeared disheveled at the window ‘I’M UP ‘ you just turn away your cheer uniform fluttering around you.

Peter wanted to tell you, that you looked beautiful. You see this was the first day of junior year for you guys’. Peter, in his opinion didn’t really changed much well expect that he was spiderman and he has been for about two years but he physically looked the same. (Y/N)...uh blossomed this past summer, she lost a few pounds but gained a few in places Peter can’t admit to his conscious that he stared at. And you seemed to be popular? Which was a gross stereotype like the popular girl and the nerd, but that what people categorized (Y/N) and Peter. (Y/N) was always beautiful to Peter but no one really noticed then she tried out for the cheer team sophomore year and everyone loved her, then that’s when people started noticing. Girls assumed (Y/N) and Peter were dating and the guys well the guys just ignored Peter’s existence or tried to be his friend to get to (Y/N). No matter how many times you told Peter you didn’t care what other people thought, Peter still felt insecure? Scared? Anxious? He couldn't really pinpoint what he was feeling but Peter’s other good friend Ned told him that he was feeling scared and nervous about losing (Y/N) to the ‘pop’. Which is what Ned calls people at your school with public social media accounts and lots of followers.

Y/N pov

You felt so nervous you kept smoothing over your skirt. You didn’t notice how this all happened. The ‘pop invasion into your life’ as Ned said to me many times before, it’s like one day i was playing ‘Star Wars’ trivia game with Peter and Ned then the next you were rushing off to ‘summer cheer’ practice. Your mom pressured you into doing cheer by saying motivating things like ‘Your thighs look bigger’ or my personal favorite ‘you don’t think you’re a little fatter than freshman year? I’m not sure Peter likes fat girls’. So you got moving you worked your ass off and you got on the team! You were ecstatic not only because you worked so hard but because the girls on the team really liked you! But this was the year your newly found confidence would help you make a move on Peter. You’d rejected pretty much all the guys that asked you out. Normally saying you had something to do with Peter.Your friends on the team said that Peter liked you back but you weren’t sure the girls were good friends to you but come on Peter Parker did not have a crush on me you thought as you drove you and peter to school.

Peter’s pov

I, Peter Parker, have a crush on (Y/N). Ned thinks the feelings are mutual but come on (Y/N) (Y/L/N) did not have a crush on me you thought as you pulled up to school with her. ‘Here we go Pete.`` She said then took a deep breath and reached out for your hand. (Y/N) didn’t like to talk about her emotions very often so when she explained her anxiety Peter was a bit taken back but after thinking back to (Y/N) hating going to social events or the night before the first day of school not being able to sleep. So right now she held Peter’s hand to help with that anxiety not any emotional attraction okay Peter? She just needs a friend right now. The two walked in and couldn’t contrast against each other more Peter had a shirt with an elemental joke and (Y/N) looking strikingly beautiful in her yellow and blue cheer uniform.

Fast forward to that Friday

It was the end of sixth period and Peter and (Y/N) were walking to (Y/N)’s car. ‘Peter im nervous out of my wits for the game today!’ (Y/N) was bouncing on her heels that were covered with yellow converse, that peter got her two christmases ago. (Y/N) was subtly wearing school which she informed me was like a semi-cheer requirement, on game days you wear the schools colors so (Y/N) asked to borrow my Midtown school of science and technology sweater and paired with simple black jeans but even dressed so casually she looking amazing to me. ‘Peter? Did you hear what i just asked you?’ ‘Going to be honest with you because you’re my friend...No i did not hear a word.’ (Y/N) sighed Peter seemed to get lost in his thoughts kinda often. ‘Alright dork i said are you gonna come to the game?’ Peter was kind of on call for something Mr. Stark needed him. ‘Of course i wouldn’t miss your first cheer thingy for anything.’ Peter knew his promise was far fetched he just hoped the universe was listening and would make Mr. Stark not need him tonight. ‘Amazing!! You being there will make the jitters go away. Home sweet home! Alright Pete i have to get ready I’ll see you later tonight!’ ‘Uh yea (Y/N) I’ll see you then’ Peter said not even believing himself.

Peter was catching up on his sleep since waking up early for school it messed up his sleep schedule of staying up until 3 am. But he awoke to the sound of his phone ringing thinking it was (Y/N) he answered itt quickly, “Hello.?’ his groggily voice said ‘Hey Kid, it’s happy I’m down the block Tony sent me he said something about ‘wanting to try you in a new suit he got you’ i don't know but just meet me over here’ Peter panicked a little bit of course this had to happen today. ‘Uh happy do you think I could call a raincheck on tony?’ I have a football game that i have to go to’ ‘A football game?’ Peter gulped ‘Unless you're the star players get your butt over here.’

At the game

(Y/N) scanned the crowd from on the field looking for Peter just then a boy came up from behind her and tapped your shoulder, you jumped at the sudden interaction from the guy. “Hey are you (Y/N)?’ You hesitated, ‘Yes i am. I’m sorry to come off as rude but do i know you?’ The boy chuckled ‘Uh No I don't think anyone here really knows me i'm new here.’ ‘Oh welcome! What's your name?’ ‘Harrison’ ‘Nice to meet you Harrison.’ And Harrison kept you company before the game started and then took his seat as he cheered you on for well cheering. He was a sweet boy but you couldn't help but wonder where Peter was. ‘Hey i don't mean to intrude but your mind seems to be somewhere else.’ ‘Is it that obvious,’ Harrison or Harry as he told you he’d rather be called kinda gave you a look like yes it's very obvious. ‘Well my best friend promised he’d be here and i was really nervous since it was the first game he was supposed to help me calm down but he didn't show.’ You said glumly. ‘I hoped I helped with some of those nerves,’ Harry said as he put his finger under your chin so you wouldn’t hang your head so low. ‘ But be careful princess hang your head any lower your tiara will fall off.’ At this point your heart was beating out of your chest you barely knew this guy yet you kind of wanted to kiss him and you kind thought he wanted to so you just settled for a kiss on the cheek that he gave you. ‘I hope to see you monday.’ Harry walked away. You were left speechless, no guy had genuinely shown you attention like that. ‘(Y/NNN)!! AHH THAT GUY WAS ALL OVER YOU PETER WILL SEE WHAT HE LOST!!’ one of your good friends who was on the team too said to you. ‘He is a really sweet guy’ you gushed to your friend ‘And he’s cute!’ she responded you walked away giggling with her. And as you left Peter was in the distance seeing everything that unfolded with the guy who had your attention while Peter was gone. Peter felt his blood boil and his heart sink he couldn’t believe that guy just kissed you on the cheek without EVEN ASKING! ‘But you wouldn’t have done’ it the voice in his head said. As he walked home alone, since he assumed he’d go home with you. You were in your car still thinking about that odd boy then you saw Peter on the sidewalk walking to his house. ‘Peter?” You questioned as you rolled the windows down and clearly saw him, luckily there was little to no traffic so you weren’t in anyone's way. ‘(Y/N)?’ ‘Yes Pete haha. What are you doing and where were you we won the game !’ you said excitedly not really angry with him. ‘I was busy.’ Peter said in a stern voice. ‘I figured but you couldn't at least text me so i didn't have to spend all night looking fro you in the crowd.’ ‘Yea i’ll remember that for next time.’ Do you want a ride home?’ ‘No’ he said rudely. You had enough you out the care in park and get out ‘Why are you angry with me Peter? You missed my game i should be even slightly angry with you.’ ‘Because you didn’t seem to miss me at the damn game!’ Peter yelled at you you were so taken back Peter never yelled at you. ‘Yea glad the ‘super nice and cute boy’ kept you company while i was gone.’ ‘How did you know about him?’ you said confused. ‘I saw you guys together after the game thats where im leaving from.’ ‘He’s just a friend Peter why are you upset? He’s new and wanted someone to talk to.’ You said still confused and near tears because you never fought with Peter like this or at least this seriously. ‘Whatever. I’m walking home see you on Monday.’ And that was the last time you had ever spoken to Peter Parker, that fight between the two of you changed your friendship Peter didn’t talk to you that whole week at school and he was never home if he was home he got back super late at night with bruises you tried to confront him about it but he said ‘it was none of your concern’. After a month you stopped trying he obviously didn’t want to talk to you, so you decided to stop wasting your time despite the pain it cost you to leave your other half. Apparently this wasn’t the year you’d ask out Peter Parker.

‘(Y/N) are you planning on going to prom this year?’ someone asked you you weren’t listening you were watching your old friend Peter frantically talk to Ned about something. ‘Hmm?’ ‘Prom?’ ‘Aw Britney I’d hoped you would’ve asked me in a more theatrical way.’ Your now closer friend Britney who was also on the cheer team with you. ‘Hate to break it to you babe. But I’m going to prom with Flash Thompson.’ She looking over at Flash, ironically you'd say she looked at him cheerfully. ‘You’re going to prom with Eugene?’ You never liked calling him Flash that name was reserved for the comic book hero by the same name. ‘But I don't have anyone to go with not that i need someone to go with but im using that as a valid excuse.’ ‘I CAN HELP YOU WITH THAT.’ Britney yelled gathering some funny looks as you both laughed. ‘Thanks but no thanks I’d rather not go with one of Euguene’s friends.’ Before you could finish Britney disappeared whispering knowingly to Flash. Flash grabbed one of his friends, a nice looking boy brown hair blue eyes. And the three of them came in your direction. ‘Well well well princess (Y/N) here says that she's finally going to accept a date from a boy.’ Flash said with a smirk getting the boys' next to him hopes up. ‘No, this princess is not looking for a prince thanks Eug.’ You said as you got up and left heading to class early.

Peter’s pov

‘Just ask her to prom you idiot it’ll wash away any bad stuff that happened between you two..’ ned said frantically to Peter. ‘She doesn’t want to talk to me. I was a jerk to her eight months ago.’ Peter almost didn’t believe himself but he was right it had been that long since the first football game. Peter was staring at you and you were looking back with the same look of ‘please talk to me I’m not as mad as you think!’ but you were called away by your friends before he could even think of a response. Because of Peter’s powers he could hear your whole conversation and was explaining it to Ned. ‘Exactly everything is falling into place just ask her out.’ Maybe i will Peter thought to himself. He didn't want to tell Ned or else he’d freak out. But thats how Peter ended up bolting out of the cafeteria to catch up with you. ‘(Y/N) !!’ She turned cautiously around. ‘Peter?’ ‘Yea um h-hhow are y-you?’ ‘How am I?’ she said back ‘I’ve been fucking garbage these past eight months because the person i trusted the most in this world stop fucking stop talking to me out of the fucking blue!! And I haven't been able to talk to anyone about it because i care about this boy more than I care about myself yet he doesn’t have a clue and blatantly ignored me!! Then you have the nerve to fucking asking me ‘How AM I?? I'VE HAD BETTER DAYS PETER BENJAMIN PARKER. HELL I HAD A BETTER LIFE WHEN YOU WERE IN IT AND YOU JUST LEFT.’ During those eight months Peter was with Mr.Stark, helping him with ‘Rogue Rogers’ but he didn’t know how to tell (Y/N). ‘Meet me after school out window. Please.’ She sighed and walked away Peter hoped she was going to be there.

You checked your hair one more time in the mirror before looking out the window waiting for Peter to show. ‘He’s gonna stand me up again, it’s inevitable.’ ‘I wish you wouldn’t doubt me so much.’ A voice said from behind (Y/N). Her first instinct was to kick as high and as hard as she could. ‘(Y/N) WOAH WOAH IT ME PETER!!??’ Instead of seeing the face that belonged to that voice you saw spiderman sitting on your bed as casual as ever. ‘P-peter?’ ‘Ha now it’s your turn to stutter.’ he said. Peter took the mask off even though you knew it was him. ‘(Y/N) What was that sound?’ your mother yelled from below the stairs. ‘Oh nothing! Spider-man is in my room!’ you said smirking at Peter as you saw his face drop with fear. Maybe he shouldn't have told you he was spiderman. He heard your mom laugh? ‘Okay sweetie, lay off the red bulls.’ Peter let out a deep breath ‘Was that you saying that you are still angry?’ ‘No, I just want to know why you were angry that day. I’ve gone over everything that happened and can’t think why you’d even care that I was with Harry.’ ‘Have you tried the option where i was jealous that Harrison even had your attention for two seconds?’ Peter said as he moved closer to you. ‘I-i um no i hadn’t considered that to even be an option. A smart, charismatic guy like you is not interested in me at all .’ ‘You’re right a smart guy like me is practically infatuated with you, (Y/N).’ You smiled so hard your cheeks started to hurt and then Spiderman kissed you. The boy that you had a crush on since before you even knew what a crush was, was kissing you. ‘Wow.’ you said laughing. ‘I mean I know I haven’t had practice but was it that bad?’ Peter said sadly. ‘Hmm jury is still out on that i guess you’ll just have to kiss me again.’

#peter parker #peter x reader #peter x you #peter parker fluff #marvel #spiderman #Spider Man: Homecoming #spider-man: far from home #flash thompson #ned #tony stark #happy hogan #marvel-mega #marvel-mega masterlist

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sumeshi-t · 6 years

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untitled

Notes: this was for @writinginstability‘s 500 and 1k writing challenge (yep im that anon. and for the 1k wc i’m sorry i forgot to send in an ask about it). uuughghhhh idk how i feel about this i’m hella dumb at writing, hence why it is titled this way; and this was my fourth try at writing the story but that’s it. leaving this crap out here so yeah. :----) **also i edited it because i realized i left something out??? like seriously all I had to do was copy and paste this from word i can’t believe??? i’m so ashamed pls forgive me

Pairing: deviant!Connor x reader

Word count: 2671

Prompt: Bliss (from the 500wc) | “I guess this is all I have left of you.” (from the 1kwc)

Today was a special day... at least, for Connor.

A certain RK800 began with slow, calculated steps up the porch, each piece of wood creaking loudly beneath every step he took. Somehow, deep inside he still recognized this emotion and associated it with fear and anxiety; what he was about to do would not only surprise you but more so, himself.

But he couldn't help it; couldn't help falling for you. You treated him differently... in a good way, in the best way, that he still thinks he never really deserved it.

Soon after Connor became a deviant, you were kind enough to offer him a place to stay in, since Hank was acting like a spoiled kid, refusing to share his house, followed by a lame excuse saying that he didn't want to babysit a plastic cop. (Though everybody knew that if Connor, or basically anyone else insisted, their situation would have been the other way around).

He finds himself smiling softly, a small and faint, "I'm home," escaping through his lips. Connor raised a hand to rest it on the door knob to check if it were locked. Lucky for him, it seems you still weren't home.

And no, he did not jump in through the windows because you gave him his own keys.

Connor picks up on the post-it note that you left on the wall as he entered, that you were "getting some paint stuff from Markus because he lost a bet".

Sure, Connor never stopped working for the DPD, but he was also a key into aiding Jericho's success. Somehow, you asked to tag alongside Connor when they had to discuss some matters, so you got to meet and be acquainted with its leader. It just turned out that he used to be the Carl Manfred's android. You were a fan of the man's artworks, and somehow you found yourself a friend in the android with... heterochromia. (But once Markus had told you that part of his story, you garnered respect for the reason behind his differently colored eyes.)

Connor immediately went to the bedroom, and if he had real functioning lungs, he was sure he'd have air get caught in it. 'Maybe she left the note a day ago.' He thinks to himself, and sighs. The case he was currently working on took away lots of his time from you.

It would seem that it was one of your off days from your work, and you promised yourself to take a sleep in.

Connor reaches out to place his hand on your face, and rub his thumb across your soft cheek. If he could, he would've gulped. The lines on your face told Connor you weren't getting younger, nor stronger, each passing day.

He shook off those thoughts from his mind and let you be, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you lied peacefully by his side. He left the precinct after Hank went ahead after midnight. So he was sure the lieutenant was also going to be late, or worse, not go to the DPD at all; so why not let him, the android with his own rights, be late too? Or even better, skip work that day?

He missed you, is that not enough of a reason to file a leave?

Your mouth parted slightly in your slumber, and he especially liked it that you were wearing one of his clothes, slightly loose and hanging off your shoulders on one side, your scent lingering on them even after you remove it.

One of his hands trace the outline of your face, brushing away the few strands of hair that blocked you from his view, and some of it were beginning to gray. His eyes traveled through each one of the lines and creases on your face, and Connor made sure to take them in to memory.

You stirred, before pulling your body closer to his. Connor smiles, his thirium pump accelerating, and still he wonders how you seem to make him feel that way each time spent with you. Were you secretly an android programmed to do that to him?

Silly, he knows that you're nothing like his kind.

You were so much more, to an android like him.

His hand slides down to the curves of your body, and stops by your waist, hand resting at the small of your back. Five minutes more, he says to himself, and then he's gonna wake you up.

You groaned when light penetrated through the windows after Connor manipulated the blinds open. He chuckled a bit at your grumpy mood before he littered your face with butterfly kisses, and you just couldn't be pissed at him, brown eyes so intent on your own, like two cups of hot chocolate on a cold winter day.

Your face flushed as you soon smiled, red blood pulsing through your veins that contrasted his blue, blue thirium pumping through his system.

"Hey? Connor?" He still didn't respond, and you smirked slightly. "Cat got your tongue?" You chuckled, and this broke him from his trance. Despite his internal dictionary, and thousands of sources of words, he cursed himself for being so speechless when it comes to you. "It's called art appreciation, I just couldn't help it."

The compliment then made you blush, and your heart beat faster. Shit, since when did he become that smooth? This time, it was Connor's turn to smirk, not needing to run a scan on your vitals to be certain that he made you feel butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

His level of stress lessened at that, and it even gave him a bit of confidence.

Connor always listens to you, as you tell him about your day that was spent without him.

"I waited for you last night, but I fell asleep..."

Your android looks at you apologetically, and this prompted you to pull him in for a kiss.

"Guess what I found in the attic? It still works,"

You twisted a bit, after rubbing sleep off your eyes; reaching for something on the floor. You told him you spent the rest of the night before, tinkering on an old polaroid camera.

Connor sees you snap your head up in his direction, as he probably called out to your name in confusion.

You grin, Connor sees your figure sit up, holding the camera with one hand while the other grabs him by the arm and forced him to do the same on the bed. Your finger pointed towards the camera lens while you rest your head on his chest.

Connor blinks a few times after the flash of light, then you both waited for the film to develop, just in each other's arms. You raise your hand up, asking him to put his palm against yours. You once saw Markus and North do that same thing and it intrigued you. Somehow, you could even call yourself jealous because androids have such a way to connect with each other. "Do the thing," you whisper, and Connor instantly understood what you were referring to.

You could see his real, plastic self, and you could never get tired of being in awe at him. You interlaced your fingers with his and kissed the top of his hand. "I should be the one to do that." he tries teasing you, but you both knew how much he loved it, loved you even more every time you did that.

"...I wish we could stay like this for much longer,"

Connor's LED turned yellow, then quickly turns back to blue, careful not to alert you of his hidden worries. Although you were probably referring to him having to go to work, butfor the android it's about humans and their lifespan.

Connor learned and witnessed it through so many ways that humans are quite fragile: when you ran to chase after Sumo and fell, spraining your ankle; when he gripped your hips too hard on one heated night, leaving bruises; heck, even paper can cut a human's skin.

That's why he always made you his mission after becoming a deviant.

After the photo was developed, you hand it over to him, and he in turn, reaches for the book he has yet to finish due to his busy job. Connor has vowed to use the photo as his own bookmark.

"I have decided not to go to the DPD today; I'm sure Captain Fowler wouldn't mind."

You snort, "Sure he won't. Just hope that Hank gets in or else you both are gonna get your ears blown off the next day,"

"I need to make sure that you don't miss me too much." He gets hit on his chest and you suddenly get out of bed. He watches you go, but he stays behind as he digs for something inside his suit, then plays with it as though it were one of his little coins.

^Software Instability

Connor offers to cook breakfast for you, proceeding to carry out the first part of his plan to spoil you.

"I sense something today; you're being too sweet. Not saying I don't like it, but I wonder what's in that android brain of yours?" You tell him before taking a first bite into your favorite morning meal. Connor did his best to remain composed at you having caught onto him again.

Soon after, you both staggered, dancing to your favorite song on the way to the back door, one where it led to the garden you'd spent hours beautifying, tending to each plant while your android lover watched over.

There also stood a bench, situated before a tree that was there ever since you were but a child. One of you hit a foot on that bench's leg, losing balance and hitting the ground, limbs tangled with each other.

Your laugh sounded so refreshing and Connor couldn't help but join you in it. From behind you, he found the source of that little mishap, the colors of which were now dull and faded.

You made your way to the tree to get some shade, and sat there, leaning on the trunk. You pat the space beside you and Connor follows.

"You're really going extra on me today. What's up? Just tell me already,"

"I guess this is all I have..." he paused, his hand cupping your cheek, and the other reaching for something in his suit. You lean into his hand with a serene smile on your face, feeling his warmth spread across your skin. Connor returns the smile with one of his own, albeit shy and hesitant, and eventually shows you the small, simple ring he's gotten for you. You gasp at it, and tears brimming your eyes as you simply nod your head, unable to form any words out your mouth.

You felt a tear drop to your cheek as Connor leans down to gently place a kiss on your temple.

Once he pulls away, the edges around his vision began to blur, static filling in at steady intervals.

But he wasn't afraid.

Instead, his smile grew wider, another tear rolling down his cheek.

"...all I have left of you."

Connor continues his previous statement that he simply whispers to himself. He takes another look around him and what his current reality truly was.

The ring in his hand was no more, and instead was just one of his quarters. Connor gripped on it before he returns the coin back inside his pocket.

His head shot up and saw the garden you worked so hard on, was now nothing but a bunch of weeds; old, withered, cold and dead. Connor tried to tend to it but after your passing, the android couldn't bear to return and be reminded each day that he wasn't really a human; because he could not age and therefore, would not die. He found that unfair, you were unfair for being human and for making him feel like a human.

Truthfully, there were a few times he wished he had never gone deviant. Maybe he never would have suffered the pain of losing someone dear to him; of grieving over someone who has given his life, his existence, a whole new meaning; someone that he...

...loves.

But it would've been more painful to never have had the chance to experience such a powerful emotion. It would be more painful to never have had the chance to be with you.

Despite his memory cache glitching, making him see you from your youthful self to the you with white hair and wrinkled skin, Connor would never forget the way your eyes used to shine. Those eyes that never aged, eyes that gave him warmth, that ignited a spark within him and made him happy that he was alive.

Warnings about his system shutting down in a few seconds bombarded him, but he couldn't care less. He's been around far too long enough and Connor even wondered why he stayed.

A world without you was not a world he wants to further live in.

It's been years and Connor only wanted nothing more than to be with you again.

"Connor, where will you go?" Your voice was now muffled in his hearing, but the android continued trying to process one of the last pieces he's had of you.

Connor looks at you once more, and back then he didn't have anything to answer you with. But now, he was sure of it.

"Where else but to you?"

He once said that there could hardly be any heaven for androids. However, as his system collapses, Connor swore he could really feel your hand on the side of his face, lowering it to your level.

Connor faintly feels your lips brush against where he knows his LED would be. He caught a glimpse of you, and everything felt so real, he was sure that you were truly there with him; alive and healthy just as you were years ago.

"I love you Connor. No matter what people still say, I never loved any other human or android the same way as I loved you. Always remember that,"

He tried reaching out to finally kiss your lips but his vision blackens out, and all he could see were warnings about his biocomponents and the amount of time he has left before shutdown. Connor could even feel his thirium pump decelerating.

Your android couldn't be happier.

"And I never forgot. I can't wait to see you again, love," his voice didn't sound like his own, like a typical machine losing power.

Connor leans back on the tree, looking up at the sky streaked with pastel colors that were being reflected on his lenses. However, he could no longer see the beauty it held. You were the last masterpiece that he saw and for him, nothing would ever outshine your beauty.

He was ready now. Connor still couldn't believe he'd survived being alone for such a long time without you in his life.

Five seconds. His eyes flutter close, the wind weaving through the loose strands of his hair.

Three seconds. Two. Connor's lips move, feeling your name escape through him as his last 'breath', the sound of it going on deaf ears and carried away by the wind.

One.

[ REC0NS?¿RUCT CO¿?PL3TE ]

Connor's head slightly bows, then tilts to the side, the blue LED flickering once before it shut off completely.

The autumn breeze makes the leaves fall all around him, making the whole scenario nothing but peaceful. It was as if Connor was just in a state of permanent sleep, eternally dreaming, reunited with you in his quaint version of heaven, a garden he used to tell you of but never got to see and recreated it in your own little way.

If one were to take a closer look, the android that was once regarded as a deviant hunter, held a smile of pure bliss that would forever be etched onto his plastic features.

#writinginstability500 #writinginstability1kwc #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #detroit become human #connor #rk800 #writinginstability #lol i tried #i know this succs 100% i assure u #utter crap #<3 #nonetheless it was fun #shut up self

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catholicdaredevil · 6 years

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Dating Bucky Barnes would include (Bucky x Gender Neutral!Reader)

Hey so I’ve been super busy with tons of things and I apologize for not being more active in my writing. I’m gonna try and post more fics and hcs and literally just everything for you guys and I appreciate the patience! In the meantime if you have any requests please please send them in! As well as HUGE thanks to Gigi for helping me so much with this! I wrote it at like 5 am last night on some sleeping meds sent it to her and went to sleep and she helped me workshop the whole thing. Make sure to check her out and her writing cause she’s so talented!!! Okay enough from me here we go!

Word count: 867

Warnings: Some nsfw themes nothing super detailed and flufff and what should be a gender neutral reader (I say should cause I fuck up a lot y’all)

Dating Bucky would include…

let’s just be real we all know it

bucky barnes loves having his hair braided and played with

he loves having long hair and feeling your fingers card through it as you either braid or tug or even just massage his scalp

but he wouldn’t let you play with his hair at first

cause post winter soldier™️ bucky is scared of touch for so long

cause he hasn’t been touched in a non violent way in what seems like forever

it’s not all that he doesn’t think he can control himself, he’s pretty confident in that these days for the most part

it’s just… uncomfortable

it almost feels unnatural

he doesn’t understand how casually the rest of the team touch each other

he’s constantly left questioning it when he sees nat and clint high five or peter and tony hug (even awkwardly)

until you come along and for the first time in a long time

he WANTS to touch

he’s not so sure on the being touched just yet

but he wants to feel goosebumps pop up on your arm as he trails his fingers along the curves of your muscles

he wants to see if your hair is actually as soft as it looks

(and if so ask what you use with it because I genuinely think bucky has like a bajillion hair products and always smells kinda coconutty)

he finds himself sitting so that your legs are touching, even just barely brushing

and his heart is racing excitedly

it feels normal, good, comfortable

then it moves on to him accidentally touching your hand when he gives you the remote

or putting his hand on the small of your back and he squeezes behind you in the crowded kitchen

and he’s constantly thrilled by it

but he doesn’t realize just how great it is until you start touching him back

you guys are talking about your last mission and he mentions something funny and you hold onto his arm as you laugh

outwardly he looks completely normal but he’s processing a million different things and emotions

and he realizes it feels so fucking warm where your hand is and he’s over the moon

after that he would touch you every chance he got

he would be so cuddly since then though his body always touching yours somehow

sometimes just even because he could

him calling you nicknames constantly

like to the point where hearing your real name come out of his mouth sometimes scared you

DOM! BUCKY

can I please just take a moment to say… he would hate it when you rolled your eyes at him

but like in a sexy way

like he would get all serious and his voice would get so deep and he’d warn you not to do it again

and of course you would

and the next thing you knew he had you over his shoulder storming back to your room where y’all would do some sinful things

or he’d pin you up against a wall and growl in your ear that you shouldn’t be allowed to look that good

he’d be able to hold both your wrists together in one of his hands

uuuuuuuuuugh

hickies

that’s all I need to say realistically but I will take to my grave that bucky loves to see the marks he makes on your neck or collar bones or even (lord help me) your thighs

but also please give it up for

SUB! BUCKY

bucky who whines and pleads to cum

bucky who likes being able to not have to control things

who sits on his hands so he won’t move to touch you

he loves seeing you in control, in power

so to make a long story short basically just

switch! bucky

he would be so misguidedly romantic like in terms of modern day stereotypical romance

like most guys would be like ‘hey here's flowers, pretty like you!1!’

which is what he did in the 40’s but he’s so unsure now

so instead he’s much simpler

like bucky comes into the kitchen all sweaty from a run (im talkin miiiiiles) and he comes up and kisses your forehead and is like

‘hey i was out running, as y’know, and I saw this rock and it made me think of you. it’s like super cool and shiny and doesn’t look like any other rock.’

and he just shrugs and hands it to you cause he’s not even trying to be romantic he genuinely thought it was a cool fucking rock

meanwhile sam is sitting at the table flabbergasted that bucky barnes just handed you a rock and to make things worse for him

you just grin excitement in your eyes and you kiss him so sweetly

and sam cannot BELIEVE he just saw a hundred year old man finesse with a rock

bucky would be the most understanding loyal boyfriend (puppy barnes?)

he would support everything you do

he would always tell you to shoot for the stars and to follow your dreams and of course you could do/be whatever you wanted

and y’all I just love bucky barnes with my whole heart and soul

Permanent tags: @tropicalcap @tokoyamisstuff @hootyhoobuckaroo @vinyloider @spiider--boy

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes preference #avengers preference #avengers x reader #avengers fic #bucky barnes fic #dating bucky barnes #ezra #ezra writes #puppy-barnes

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bbhyuckie · 6 years

Text

jaehyun x reader

librarian! au

genre: fluff

words: 1.7k

warnings: realistic portrayals of college life lol

ive said before that im being self indulgent with posts

but this is really it

im really out here writing this

lets get into this mess

so youre studying right

and you yourself do not have a laptop of your own

bc welcome to being a broke college kid im calling myself out

so you decide that youre gonna go to the library on campus bc sis,, cash in on the tuition money ok

so you go and youre like wow hahahaha i dont have a library card better sign up for one

so you go to the desk and theres no one there

just your luck really

you decide to wander around a little to see if theres anyone who can help you

and low and behold you stumble across someone

this young man knelt down by a shelf with a book rack next to him just humming softly and organizing books

and you catch his attention by clearing your throat slightly

he looks up and his eyes are big over the rims of his wire framed glasses that are clinging to the tip of his round button nose

and his hair is a little mussed from being bent down

but holy hell

youve read enough novels to know that this must be exactly what the characters are talking about when they say things like ‘love at first sight’

“sorry” he says as he standcs and brushes himself off “can i help you with anything?”

starstruck really

you manage to stutter out something about needing to register for a library card and he smiles so kindly it makes u want to melt

“sure!’ he says, motioning for you to follow him back up to the desk

is this what a trance feels like???

he asks you a few basic questions, like your name, your age, and what building your dorm is in so he can put it all on your new nifty library card

and then he turns around this lil webcam on top of his computer and asks you to stand in front of it and smile

and you do, awkwardly

and as hes looking down at the computer counting “3, 2, 1” he has this smile on his face like hes trying to hide it

and if that didnt make ur heart jump you dont know what ever would holy

so he prints off your card as youre still trying to recover from being in the presence of an angel

and he hands it to you and smiles

“library hours are 8 am to 12 am every day, but on the weekends i’m the one that closes. which means if you ever need some extra time to finish that essay you pushed off,,, i wont tell anyone”

aND HE W I NK S

and not lot a hot wink

but a cute?? wink??? if thats possible

like you have a secret with him now and its safe

you wonder absently as you stare down at the black and white picture of yourself on the back of your new card if he tells everyone about him closing on the weekends

and if he doesnt does that make you special???/

you smile and thank him again, maybe a little more confidently than before and head for the door

you realise as youre halfway out that you came here to study on the computers but you really need some time to sit down and process the fact that you just say an actual angel

you can do your math homework on your phone for one more night if it means you can turn down your body heat from screaming blushing mess to slightly embarrassed rosy cheeks

the next time you get a chance to run by the library on campus, it just so happens to be sunday

you catch yourself wondering if dream boy meant friday and saturday or saturday and sunday when he said weekends

thats not important right now

what is important is that you have actual business to do in the library today

and that business is to pick up hamlet for your english class

you check in and someone else is at the front desk

you try not to let yourself feel disappointed

i mean you met him once for christs sake

the guy at the front is equally as attractive as dream boy from the previous week, but a little more relaxed to talk to since he isnt giving you any flirty subtones

the kid is all business really

he tells you that his name is doyoung if you need anything else

you ask how he got the job there, out of curiousity

because really, both of the librarians youve encountered seem pretty young for the standard librarian stereotype

doyoung explains that its a work-study job, so nearly all the people that work there are students at the university and work in between classes or on their off days to make some extra cash or pay off some tuition

and you can get behind that!!

so doyoung is cool and you decide you can go to him to ask questions instead

because while dream boy is a dream boy with pretty cheekbones and nice lips and a smooth voice and a good sense of style and a great height without insoles and looks great with glasses and has the most captivating eyes

hes a lil distracting lol

anyway you find yourself in the shakespearean section

and you grab a hamlet off the shelf and head back up to the front to have doyoung check the book out to you

and as hes handing you the book back you get a classroom notification saying that, despite common belief, the book rental wasnt due by tomorrow, but the whole book reading is due by tomorrow

you wonder how the fuck professors get away with shit like this and then you remember that you didnt bother to read the syllabus so you cant really get too mad at anyone but yourself

so you find a table that looks like it has the comfiest chairs and cozy up for a long evening of reading and annotating

(depending on who you are you either love or hate hamlet, either way it is exhausting to annotate anything from that man so bear with me ok)

five hours later and ⅔ of the annotations later it is 11:56pm

and you havent noticed

you hadnt noticed much of anything happening in the real world after you popped in a headphone and started reading about guards seeing a ghost

that is until someone plops down in the seat in front of you and asks

“so what are you studying”

and you look up, a little delayed because youre finishing a notation

only to find that its dream boy

and your brain blanks for a sec bc wow every time you see him its kinda like?? ouch???? my heart bro

so you just kind of shake your head and mutter some “im not really sure anymore”

and theres some truth to that!! first there were ghosts and now theres dead girlfriends dads and dead girlfriends and talking about a skull in a graveyard

that play is really a wild ride brother

and dream boy sits there and laughs, wholesomely

you could die happy

“yeah i get that” he says, rubbing the back of his neck

theres a pause that carries on a bit too long

“wanna hear a dumb joke?” he asks suddenly

you smile then, partially out of exhaustion and partially because wow?? cutie

“sure” you say

“okay. what do you call a nervous javelin thrower?”

you pause for a sec bc wtf

“dunno. what do you call them?”

he flashes this cute fucking grin that you know is supposed to be slick but just comes off as wholesome and says

“shakespeare”

and you shouldve seen that coming wow

and its so dumb that you actually??? giggle????? and that turns into a laugh??

youre probably just exhausted from annotations but maybe that was actually funny

and his smile softens like hes made progress on something

“y/n, right? i dont think i ever actually introduced myself. i’m jaehyun”

he smiles and reaches across the tabe and you take his hand

its warm and strong and you try not to think about it too hard

“well, y/n, library loses here in another two minutes or so.”

he sees the look on your face fall

“but never fear!” he leans forward and lowers his voice

you hold your breath

“i told ya you could stay, didnt i?”

his smile is closed lipped and cute and genuine

before you can say anything hes up and ushering the last few people out of the library, telling them good night and good luck with their classes tomorrow

youre kind of caught in a brain dead daze after finally being pulled from your studying to watching this cute librarian named jaehyun bustle around and lock doors and turn off lights

and when he finally gets back to you he clicks on the lamp on the table youre working at and sets a cup of coffee in front of you

he mustve made it as you were falling asleep with your eyes open

you thank him copiously before asking

“i thought you let everyone stay after hours when you closed”

he looks up over the rim of his mug with a surprised look in his eyes

he shakes his head as swallows the clearly too hot coffee

“not at all. most of the time i kick them out and study by myself.”

he blushes like its a confession and it makes you feel,,,, something

but you dont want to press

so you just reach out and offer your other headphone to him because if you dont know what to say then you can both enjoy some good study music

so he pulls out his homework for the night and the two of you sit there and study

you sip off your coffee occasionally and both of you nod your heads to the music playing in your ears

he hums along to the ones he knows and a thought skips across your mind

you could get used to this

(theres a 100000% chance there will be a part two to this)

#nct #nct imagines #nct x reader #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #doyoung #nct doyoung #nct u #nct127 #librarian au #i love jaehyun #hes my closet bias #library.txt

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spockandawe · 7 years

Text

So you’ve heard Spock is the actual literal devil

Have you heard that I’m a terrible person? A plagiarist? Have you been told that I’m only into transformers at all because I wanted to make this one random guy unhappy? If you’ve been told that, you’ve probably also been told that a year and a half later, I’m still making fanworks just to upset him. You might have even heard that shhhh, don’t disagree with Spock on anything, or they’ll hunt you down and harass you.

Right, okay. This is one hell of a saga that I will attempt to tell in as compressed a form as possible. It’s a lot. Years ago, back in HS, there was this one guy who policed the hell out of one of the character tags. I’m going to call him C. He’d pressure people not to make the content they were making, decry the hateful people reading with a malicious eye who thought the character would ever do anything bad (the character was a creep). And because being obnoxious wasn’t bad enough, if you didn’t cave to his demands, he just might do things like start whisper campaigns about how you support rape, casually out you as a survivor, cute little things like that.

This is not a story about that guy.

This is a story about C’s one-time attack dog, eventual boyfriend, and current ex. We’ll go ahead and call him R. I’ve tried real hard to avoid namedropping on my blog before, but could people find him from this? Probably. Have I stopped caring? Absolutely.

TL;DR, unsubstantiated accusations of serial harassment are a little questionable when they’re coming from someone with a years-long, extensively documented history of serial harassment and a personal grudge against me.

Cut for length.

Edit 7/2/2017: R has posted that he regrets making these posts about me, and admits that he said things that were out of line. And he’s stated that he’s going to try to do better in the future. I genuinely, truly appreciate that. I’m leaving this post up because there have been lies about me floating around for a while and I reserve the right to defend myself, but I really do appreciate that.

Oh balls, none of this makes sense without backstory (I’m so sorry)

If you think I suck or my work sucks, that’s fine! You do you, go enjoy the things that make you happy.

If you think I’m the devil because this one guy told you about my evil, evil past and all my terrible misdeeds, without anything at all to back up his words? You can ask me. I don’t bite, and oh lordy do I have receipts.

To be clear, R is totally allowed to hate me! I don't care. I don't care if he hates my writing, I don't care if he hates me as a person. But now he's escalated to spreading lies about me, and people are believing him, and I’m not enough of a doormat to let that just stand.

And I’m going to cheat a little. Here’s a memo with the cliffs notes version (not the original memo, I made a copy with C’s urls cropped out since he hasn’t attacked anyone in a long while). Warning, digging any distance into this turns up violent fantasies, violent sexual fantasies, creepy interactions with a minor, and lots more, it’s all really, really unpleasant. Evidence is thoroughly documented, please tread with care.

You would not believe how truncated that is compared to the reality.

Now, the worst of this came via C. Who has calmed down a lot these days, and I’m really happy that’s the case. Good for him. I hope his life continues in a direction where he doesn’t find it necessary to do this stuff.

Lucky for me, R was standing by to pick up the slack.

It doesn’t show up as much in the memo, which is mostly C-focused, but R was standing by C this whole time, defending his right to spread around private information about someone’s abuse history, sending nasty messages on the other guy’s behalf, and much,much more. it’s long, it’s awful, it’s unpleasant. R personally hurt people in some significant ways that I don’t want to link directly, for their sake. He expressed deep remorse a few times, but it never stuck.

Here’s my personal favorite quote from R. He’s speaking to the CSA survivor that C casually outed (with information given to him in confidence), and who they’d been running a long, long whisper campaign against, and who was understandably a bit upset over the whole thing:

oh go wank to your own tears [name]

#and get your sympathizers to help #nasty fucking people #maybe if you cry enough youll be able to go into second grade in the fall #ooc

Said, again, to a CSA survivor they outed and harassed. That person is such a sweetheart, and this screencap still infuriates me.

The first time I saw C pick a fight he had lots of friends. Shockingly, as he did things like loudly fantasize about how he wants to mutilate people and rant about how autistic people should die, those friends mostly drifted away. I know one person had a friend even help them stage a faux relationship-ending fight, so they could be sure they’d be able to completely cut and run from C. R stuck with him, though. Eventually they even started dating.

‘Spock followed R into transformers to harass him and stalks his favorite characters just to harass him more’

Then, transformers. Here, let me show you the first post (by R) that ever brought MTMTE to my attention. I spent years being aggressively uninterested in transformers, but this caught my eye

and honestly, ppl (adults too!!!) shipping someone who has the mentality of a child and is quite glaringly lacking a world of experiences and general understanding of things outside of ‘good’ and ‘bad’, with an adult, is just. very alarming and gross to me.

and honestly, the fact that there is a large portion of people who want him to become romantically (and sexually!!!) involved with either one of two fucking adults in canon, and hell, esp those defending it with ‘hes an adult too tho!!’ is really gross.

you can pretend all you want that hes ‘an adult’ because his body is, but theres no way jro didnt intent to code him as a child. stop fetishizing children lmao,

#pedophilia -/-/- #cygate -/-/- #if someone comes at me screaming ‘rule 38′ im gonna shove them in a locker

I didn’t know transformers, but I was pretty sure this was some straight-up bullshit.

(but don’t worry, he ships it now! no hypocrisy here, no sir)

It’s “really gross” to ship this adult with other adults. Mm. Given the reasonableness of the claims these guys have made in the past, and given their extensive history of harassing people over those claims, I hopped to the wiki to check it out. I read a bit about the comic and the plot, and all of it sounded so fascinating that I just had to give the comic a try.

Reader, I married it.

I shotgunned MTMTE 1-47 in two days, started doing fanworks right out of the gate, and I’ve never looked back. A lot of my art was cygate, because come on, the comic wants you to ship it so bad, my first readthrough ended with issue 47, and that was the first ship I’d ever read about for the series, even before I dove in.

Now, both these characters punch me right in the heart, in some painfully personal ways. Tailgate’s the more relevant one here, but I don’t even know if I could do justice to the emotions both of them give me.

I’m still not a fan of how R’s lies about me have edged me into needing to say this in public, but okay. I’m developmentally delayed. It’s been a rough ride. And Tailgate hits me in some of those spots so hard it just takes my breath away. I’ve got a lot of baggage over not being a real adult, and not in the funny oh-no-how-do-taxes-work way, more like an extended months-long meltdown my first year of college because I can tell that my friends are years ahead of me and I don’t know how to even start catching up, and just existing, as myself, is humiliating.

All of my relationship milestones have come painfully, painfully late. The whole thing is still one awful emotional bruise. I hate it, and I hate how easy it is to convince myself that yeah, of course you don’t actually deserve to be treated as an adult and you never will. Just look at you. So then it is unbelievably important to me that I can see someone someone who is like me, being treated as a legitimate adult, and being able to have an adult relationship.

Hearing that shipping someone like me is essentially pedophilia is the opposite of that.

But he ships it now, so everything is fine :)

Yeah, you know what? Another fucking receipt.

uGHGH im so tired of all the rabid cy// /gat// //e fans like even cy’s giving em a look like ‘leave my fucking child alone’

#i just #im hoping jro has some taste tho and doesnt make an adult date a child #and if not im hoping the outcome blows over soon bc im so tired of seeing people defend pedophilia #pedophilia -/-/-

Parental.

This continued even after JRO explicitly confirmed Tailgate was an adult.

Bonus ableism: shipping Whirl (another character who hits me way too hard) isn’t okay either. Even though there isn’t the excuse of ‘but he only lived three years--’ No, at that point, you’re saying that an adult who fails to adult correctly does not count, and isn’t allowed to have romantic relationships. It makes my skin crawl, and it is an issue which is very personally and directly important to me.

So some of my cygate was porn from the start (it’s what I write. it’s what I draw.), and some of the porn was made because I was upset over discourse that says someone like me needs to be treated as a child. I played with cywhirlgate too, because omg how could I not, and some of that was porn as well. It was ages ago, so I don’t remember the details for every little thing I made. But when I saw someone saying that Cyclonus and Tailgate had a parental relationship, I’m sure that helped nudge me in that direction. Maybe R thinks I should have channeled my emotions by starting a whisper campaign to exclude him from fandom spaces. But I think my way of working through bad emotions might have been a little healthier than that.

So when R accuses me of making cygate content to spite him? Half true. Just true enough to be real fucking dishonest. R spent a nice long time insisting that cygate was pedophilia. I channeled my outrage over that ableism into fan creations.

I didn’t attack him. I talked about him some – on a private forum, with people who’d already been aware of him and had been watching him and C hurt people for years, plural. I haven’t told people on tumblr any real details about him until now. And R still is happy to talk about how it was his toxic ex’s right to post torture/rape/murder porn vent fic about actual people.

Tell me, how exactly am I in the wrong?

Bonus pettiness: I posted some cywhirlgate porn. The next day, R vaguely whined about robot pedophilia and turned around and wrote some obviously-a-response cywhirlgate. Where it was super platonic and the text explicitly said it was super platonic and it even had platonic thigh nuzzling. With two “children” involved. Of course I turned around and wrote more fic of my own, because jesus h christ that made my skin crawl. You want to play this game? I guarantee I can write faster than you, let’s do this. (he did not follow through on that)

I’d also like to say that forgetting inconvenient little details like this is a thing with R. Hard to call me terrible for writing spitefic when you write it yourself.

A history of Spock’s personal involvement

Let’s backtrack a tiny bit. You may notice I am up to my elbows in this nonsense for no clear reason.

I was friends with some of the people C was taking shots at, and I was unfortunate enough to believe his original smear campaign about that one artist (I’m still ashamed about that). I cared about a number of people C was trying to hurt. I think one or two fanworks of mine upset him, but he already had loads of targets. I kept tabs on him and R, because anxiety is the gift that just keeps giving.

Eventually, C fantasized about wanting to put my former datemate’s hand through a meat grinder (ey wrote a fic that portrayed his fave in a negative light). And R defended his right to do that.

The person he posted about is still feeling the effects of that incident. I’m still feeling the effects of that. And it wasn’t even directed at me, just someone I care deeply about.

R has recently posted that ‘oh my goodness, C sure was awful, remember when he posted this thing about a meat grinder and how unreasonable it was?’ Thanks buddy, glad you noticed, now just go ahead and keep on blaming me for the aftereffects of what your boyfriend did, and what you defended.

After that, it was months before I could properly look away from either of their blogs.

C posted extensively about trying to track down the street address of his ~enemies~ (including the one whose genitals he fantasized about mutilating). He posted about how autistics should die. He had skype chats about wanting to do amateur brain surgery on people. All while posting very often about finding real addresses.

Yeah, it’s more than a year later, and every so often I get a stab of anxiety and have to head off to double check on what these two are up to.

I will repeat that C has been pretty chill lately. He’s got a career he’s aiming for. Good for him, go find success, please don’t slip back into being an internet bully. It’s sad and upsetting to see R echoing some of the early patterns of his ex, and it’s so strange to see me labeled as his own personal enemy.

‘Spock will totally come harass you too’ and/or various accusations of ableism

So there are some things I did in the mix in this history that I regret. Occasionally, I went out and flipped through the blogs of C and R’s friends, seeing if maybe they’d had said something in their notes, did they have any vagueblogs C liked, did they post about— It got unreasonable. I admit that. Anxiety was at the root of it, but it absolutely got unreasonable. And also it is a massive time sink, and I can’t remember the last time I bothered with it. I enjoy life much more when anxiety and paranoia issues don’t have their claws in me. This hasn’t been an issue in a very long time.

I came down hard on some of the kinfeels and system stuff too, which I do walk back a bit. C’s approach was… hahaha. It was something. And he was my intro to the kin and system paradigms. I saw R talking about C’s approach being unreasonable too, pretty recently. So that was an unfortunate bit of poison in how I processed the next people I met who did that sort of thing. I don’t do kin stuff, but I get it. And DID may not strictly apply to all systems, by the formal diagnostic criteria, but I’ve learned there are plenty of other dissociative disorders out there. And I met people who were multiples and who did kin things that weren’t these two guys. Which helped a LOT.

But the big one, hmmm. C wrote a fic. The idea was interesting, but the execution frustrated me. Everyone but the main lead felt so… flat. Everyone was constantly cruel to the main, for no reason. I saw a way to riff on the original text while staying true to its shape, and writing my bad emotions out is also a major, major thing I do to cope. Now, my big thing is that I should have asked before I remixed. I’d been thinking in terms of, y’know, transformative fanworks. Even with authors like Anne McCaffrey and Anne Rice, who fought against fandom, people have still felt that it should be allowed, even against their wishes. So I wrote the remix. I gave full credit on ao3 in the ‘inspired by’ box, linked to the original with positive words, the whole shebang.

The guy was still furious, and… that’s fair. I thought I’d written a thing on self-sabotage that was pretty sympathetic and compelling, and the self-sabotage actually drew a lot on my own personal history. But I gave the main flaws he strongly disagreed with, and I didn’t ask for permission. I get why he was/is angry over it.

I’ve been a fixture on their shitlists ever since :P

It’s remarkable, even while R posts now about ‘oh my god, remember how C wrote the creepiest things?’, I’m still the one who’s the the actual worst, for being skeeved out by the creepy things and finding a constructive way to deal with it. R’s controlling ex gets full freedom when it comes to vent fic, even when it’s about wallowing in torturing, raping, and murdering an avatar for a real person (the original one they harassed!), or punching someone in the face until they agree to be your friend (another artist these guys targeted). But R’s position seems to be that only C is allowed to vent (even if it’s genital mutilation fantasies), and I’m definitely not.

Oh, and R has now expanded this remix into me totally having a consistent pattern of stealing ideas and plagiarism and so many remixes that are obviously done as revenge on anyone who pisses me off. So that’s nice.

So R hates your writing. Is that seriously why this post exists?

Ha, no. Let’s look at the concrete things R is saying. Here, let me post a little sampling of evidence.

These aren’t just things he’s shouting into the void, people have responded saying wow, I never knew that! These are lies that people are believing about me. And then yesterday, June 30, 2017, he warned a friend not to disagree with my meta, or I’d come harass them. A friend I’m aggressively leaving out of this, just as I’m leaving out other responses, because these people don’t deserve to be dragged into R’s bullshit.

Let’s have bullet points. Some of these are the silly spock-is-bad-at-writing complaints. Those are here because this whole mess is pretty fucking depressing and the ridiculous claims make me laugh, but these are all things he says.

Spock is evil – You know what, he’s not calling people pedophiles, which is a step up. I’ll take it.

Spock is a plagiarist – I remixed one fic with full credit, said only good things about the original, and linked to it in extra places so that people would have extra opportunities to click through and check it out. I arguably remixed inappropriately, but that’s not the same thing. Words have definitions. If I’m a plagiarist, so is everyone who’s ever written a fanfic.

Spock is something something mean when people disagree – I don’t even know, man. I’m actually shockingly conflict-averse. Is this because I make walls of text and explain why I hold opinions at great length? I enjoy talking about a thing I love. I’m autistic, I’m hyperverbal, and this is my special interest, so is it that I talk a lot? That’s the best I can do. I’ve talked about things I disagree with on a private forum, in which case mister pot has had a lot of fun in public on twitter, not only talking shit, but also spreading outright untruths. Maybe he wants to rethink this one.

Spock will come harass you if you disagree – You need to back the heck down, pal.

Spock’s meta/fic/characterization is bad and they should feel bad – Hahaha, fite me. He won’t, because I can articulately defend myself at significant length, and his criticisms seem to stop at ‘spock sucks’, but hey.

Spock used ableist language about Whirl - I... what? This one confuses me and makes me laugh so it stays here. Also, holy double standards, batman.

Spock is only into transformers to harass R – I checked out transformers because I was pretty sure R was being disgustingly ableist (he was). I stayed in transformers because I adore it. I had to adore it a lot to make me willing to share fandom space with these two. My god, I have better things to do with my life than spend all my time on something that bores me just to annoy one asshole on the other side of the internet. I’d ask if he thinks I spent dozens of painstaking hours cross-stitching Starscream just to bother him, but….. yep, pretty sure he does.

Spock goes after all of R’s favorite characters to upset him – R latches on to just about every interesting and/or sympathetic character that shows up. When he was dating C, they covered most of the cast between them. I don’t care who R likes best because I don’t agree with his opinions. I tend to stay away from his opinions because I don’t like reading things that bother me. This is asnine. I’m only allowed to like the characters R despises, I guess.

Spock makes fanworks for things R likes just to make him see them – Oh my god, I don’t caaaaaare. I write about things that interest me, unless I’m venting. Say, venting about the way R and his ex have deliberately hurt a shockingly high number of people I care about. ‘Spock made rodistar because I liked it--’ I made it because I wrote a thing about their parallels, and shipping was the obvious next step. R isn’t that important to me. Promise.

This is just exhausting, man. The anxiety bugs had been dying down, and it had been ages since I checked out this guy’s anything. C, who drove the whole initial blowup that led to this, has been quiet and chill on tumblr. But R has learned from his ex’s old example and has been having fun spreading lies about me.

In conclusion

Some fun history.

R was 18 when he told a CSA survivor upset about being outed and harassed to wank using their tears for lube.

He was older than that when he defended C’s right to post about wanting to mutilate someone’s genitals (for the crime of saying C’s logic didn’t make sense).

He was older than that when he complained about that person’s spouse being ‘vicious’ for reacting badly to C’s genital mutilation fantasy.

He was older than that when he nodded along as C called autistic people retards and said they should die.

He was older than that when he talked about being happy that someone he disliked was triggered, and nodded along when C fantasized about that person drinking bleach.

And he was older than that when he defended C, his twenty-something boyfriend, against the thirteen-year-old that C had been having incredibly inappropriate conversations with, despite skype log proof and everything.

And despite all this, I’m still the bad guy, because I didn’t think what they were doing was okay. I’m the bad guy for being upset by C's actions, even though... R is now upset by C’s actions. The ways I responded to C were inexcusable. My only motivation is to hurt people. Every thing I did that ever upset them still means I’m terrible, even though R is saying this while he’s busy posting about how awful C is. And this all means that he needs to warn his friends not to catch my attention, or I’ll come harass them.

So, I’m tired.

I’m very tired.

I’m glad he’s trying to grow past that history. Good. Maybe he can do that without making up a story about how I’m unrepentant villain who lives for villainy and who only takes joy in causing him pain. I’m sure it helps him, because it’s a story that brushes aside the shit he did that he regrets, and makes his past less painful to think about. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with him telling lies about me.

I don’t know why I’m the one boogeyman he has left (I kid, it’s because I’m in transformers, and because he thinks I’m popular. he harps on it a lot, and it’s weird for everyone). I mean, whatever. I’ve aggressively avoided publishing drama details on here for a very long time. But there are two blog tags, miscellaneous other untagged blog content, three forum threads, and hundreds of pages of skype logs with hard evidence of this bullshit.

I’m pretty sure that if he tries to defend himself, one, he’ll place some blame on his ex. That’s fair. C was pretty darn controlling and demanding. But R is still absolutely responsible for his own actions, and is especially responsible for the harm he personally caused. He’ll talk about how it’s bullshit to pull up all these receipts from so very long ago. In that case, his receipts for me (whatever he even has) are equally old, so aren’t they null and void? No, because Spock is the devil. And it’s not so much bullshit if he’s clearly learned nothing, and has gone back to spreading outright falsehoods about people.

To be clear, a lot of the lies he told about me were told a while back. Weeks to a few months to a year. I was letting it sit, because I’d really, really hoped this was over. Yesterday, June 30, 2017, he warned a friend not to publicly disagree with my meta or I’d come and harass them.

It’s been three years since I first saw him doing this. I’ve watched him hurt a lot of people, and I’ve watched him admit, multiple times, that he has hurt people. I thought he’d learned to stop following these toxic patterns. Apparently he has not.

Edit 7/2/2017: To repeat the edit up above, R has said he regrets posting these things about me, and that he's going to try to avoid slipping into this in the future. I very much appreciate that.

#drama tag #abusaa tag #tw: all #i can't list them all it's too many #just tread with care

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