#co fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

Text

you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

i knew from the first note played i’d be breaking all my rules to see you. you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name. so dim that spotlight, tell me things like “i can’t take my eyes off of you.” i’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar.

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

~*~

“Ed, I got a new one for ya, he’ll be here at two,” Eddie’s boss Murray says from the open doorway of Eddie’s office.

“Huh?” Eddie eloquently responds, mouth full of the banana he’d found in the office kitchen for lunch. “What?”

Murray rolls his eyes. He gets endlessly annoyed when it turns out no one can read his mind.

“New singer-songwriter coming in at two, asked for you specifically. Working on his second album, so look alive.” Murray tosses a demo in Eddie’s direction before departing the office and moving down the hallway towards his own. Eddie barely catches it just before the plastic corner gets him right in the eye.

This is the problem with Murray. He gives no details and leaves absolutely no room for follow-up questions. The other problem with Murray is that he waits until the last minute to spring shit on Eddie that he knows Eddie’s not going to like.

Eddie flips the plastic CD case around in his hand so he can read the words written in Sharpie on the front. ‘S. H. - 2’ is all it says, giving him absolutely no information. It’s already ten to two, so Eddie doesn’t even have time to listen to a single song if he wants to make it up the two floors to the conference room where he usually meets with the talent for the first time. Eddie scowls in annoyance; he hates being unprepared and he just knows Murray is conspiring against him somehow.

Eddie pushes up from his desk and leaves his office, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button for the 42nd floor. He likes to play this game where he tries to hold his breath for the duration of the elevator ride. Two floors is easy. The ride up to the 40th floor is a lot harder.

By the time Eddie makes it to the conference room, his appointment’s already in there. As he walks through the glass doors, he realizes that when Murray said “new,” he didn’t actually mean new. He meant, like, new to them.

Because sitting in the conference room at the head of the table is former boy band heartthrob Steve Harrington.

~*~

Eddie had never had Steve’s poster on his wall in high school or anything embarrassing like that, thank god. But he had kept one of the pages he’d ripped out of the library’s copy of Tiger Beat folded under his mattress for early morning daydreaming. And Eddie had certainly never listened to his music when he’d been in Teeny Boppers United or whatever the hell his band of cookie cutter boy-next-door types was called (he definitely knew).

Now, here Harrington is, sitting across the table from him, hair full of blond highlights and cherry lipgloss (Eddie thinks, imagines, hopes) on his lips.

“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson,” Eddie holds out his hand for Steve to shake and Steve does. Eddie tells himself he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes linger on him and how he takes just a second too long to pull his hand away.

Steve smiles, blinding and perfectly white. “Yeah, man, I know. My friend Robin has worked with you before? She had real great things to say,” Steve tells him and he sounds more sincere than a former-pop star asshole has any right to be.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks surprised, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, she’s been a huge help with my solo stuff. She co-wrote a few of the songs on my first album.” Steve drums his fingertips on the thick wood of the table.

“Huh.” The sound leaves Eddie against his will, as he’s trying to mask his surprise. Robin Buckley was talented and she had a sound that Eddie would never guess Steve Harrington would be into. She was indie, for sure, almost folk, bordering on a breathy country sound that Eddie thinks she’d deny if she heard him describe her like that. “I’m not entirely sure I’m what you’re looking for, to be honest with you.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He has no idea what Harrington’s sound is now that he’s broken free of the teenage bubblegum scene. But he’s always had a self-sabotaging streak a mile wide and he feels both relieved and disappointed to potentially have this out.

Steve frowns slightly, the crease between his eyes deepening. “Did you listen to the demo? I actually have this one song and I’m struggling with the bridge and, you know, not to, like, geek out or fan girl or whatever, but I’m, like, so into your sound and your lyrics and just the way you can construct a metaphor that seems so obvious when you hear it but is still so surprising in the context of the song it’s in and I think it would really complement what I’ve already started and…” Steve’s been gesturing wildly with his hands and must realize he’s rambling, because he trails off, blushing. “I mean. Did you listen?” He asks again.

“Honestly, Murray only just told me about this meeting about ten minutes before it started,” Eddie shrugs, but he feels bad about the way Steve’s shoulders fall.

“Ah, okay,” Steve pushes back from the table. “Yeah, okay. No worries.”

And Eddie feels, like, not great about this. He doesn’t like the disappointment he can see etched across Steve’s handsome features. So he reaches a hand across the vast wooden table, gesturing for Steve to stop.

“Wait,” he says, hand raised between them. “Listen, I’m… skeptical, to say the least. But. I’ll listen to your demo tonight, okay? And I’ll let you know what I think tomorrow. Is that… does that work?”

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah, dude. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thank you. Um. Do you… did Murray give you my number?”

“Here,” Eddie slides his notebook and pen across the table.

Steve picks up the pen, scrawling across the entire notebook page, before sliding it back toward Eddie. “My, uh, personal number.” Steve runs as hand through his highlighted hair. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks, Eddie.” He reaches out again to shake Eddie’s hand and this time, Eddie knows he doesn’t imagine the way Steve’s fingers linger on his palm.

Eddie clears his throat. “Talk soon,” he says, smiling, before Steve is turning and leaving the room.

~*~

Eddie had gone to LA with stars in his eyes and big dreams circling his head. He’d had hopes of making it big, of thousands of people screaming his name. It had sounded so good back then, when he'd been trailer trash in the smallest, most close-minded town in the American Midwest. And it had kind of happened. He’d recorded an entire album, had even had a national tour. But he’d realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t what he’d really wanted. Performing was fun, but what he really cared about was the song-writing. The way a perfectly constructed verse could speak to someone, on a deep, intimate, important level. That’s why he cared about music, that’s why it had always been so important to him. It wasn't the performing or the flashing bulbs of cameras or the after parties filled with people who wanted to get close to fame. It was the songs. It was the words and the meanings behind them. It was what it all meant, down to the end of it all.

So Eddie had changed course. He’d begun song-writing instead, freelancing at first, selling a song here and a collab there. Until he’d been approached by Murray Bauman, who’d heard what he’d done on a Taylor Swift track and was impressed. Murray had offered him a job in New York, writing and producing, an office and a salary for the first time in his life. And Eddie loved what he got to do now, loved the tracks he produced for other people to sing. He’d thought it would feel strange, like he was missing out on something, but it didn’t. It just felt good.

That had been five years ago and now here he is, sliding Steve Harrington’s demo into the CD player in his living room. He presses play and crosses the room to grab a beer from his kitchen. Just as he's crossing the threshold between rooms, he hears the first three notes of the song and it stops him in his tracks. He tilts his head back toward the stereo.

Because the song isn't the sound of a boy band lead gone solo, belting out pop lyrics that would guarantee major radio play. This song is soft and melancholy, the poetic lyrics of a chorus crafted with vulnerability, a complicated bridge that ties it all together. The song ends and shifts, the guitar twang taking on a pop rock tempo, more upbeat than the last song. Steve's voice comes out, deep and honey-sweet, different than his boy band days. The lyrics are still sadder than Eddie would have thought and Eddie's impressed by the words juxtaposed with the upbeat instrumentals and the tone of Steve's vocals.

Eddie listens to all four songs standing there in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Can't bear to tear himself away. And when the fourth and final song is over, Eddie crosses the room to click 'play' all over again.

~*~

Eddie waits to call Steve. He wants to call him immediately after his third listen, but he figures that it would be a bad idea to interrupt a client’s dinner or date or whatever former pop stars do on Thursday nights.

He spends all day at the office the next day listening to Steve’s first album on repeat. He thinks he can tell where Robin had helped with the lyrics, can see the ways the two of them have come together, and he can hear how their voices complement each other on the track she’s featured on. He listens to it on repeat for hours, before swapping it out for the new demo all over again. He thinks he can trace the way Steve’s voice has evolved since the first album, can see the places where his song-writing has matured. He spends the weekend deconstructing each song, finding the spots of vulnerability and the developed self-confidence that allows that vulnerability to take center stage. He feels a little guilty for not calling Steve, but he can’t imagine Steve’s sitting by the phone or anything anyway.

But the end of the weekend, Eddie knows he can’t say no to Steve Harrington. He knows that he has to be a part of this album, no matter what. That this project is going to be something magical, something unimaginable.

First thing Monday morning, Eddie calls Steve and makes a deal.

~*~

“Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you,” Eddie hears Steve breathe down the phone line. “I’m such a huge fan and hearing what you did with Robin… I was worried you were gonna say no, y’know? When I didn’t hear from you?”

Eddie smiles to himself, small and involuntary. He’d never thought he’d hear Steve Harrington sounding so earnest.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was just about ready to say no.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then shifts his phone from one ear to the other. “But I gave your demo a listen and I revisited your first album and I gotta tell you, I think there’s something really special there. I’m excited to see what we come up with.” He’s downplaying this, he knows it, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. He doesn’t want Steve to know that he’ll probably die if he doesn’t get to work on this album. That’s probably a little too over dramatic, even for Eddie.

He hears Steve suck in a breath, can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Dude, thank you. I’m so excited. This means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna have my assistant call you in a few days to set up some meetings and get everything worked out, timeline-wise. I’ll be in touch soon.” Eddie has to get off the phone now, before he says something dumb as fuck.

“Awesome. Thanks again, Eddie,” Steve replies, before there’s nothing but a dial tone.

~*~

Eddie has Chrissy set up all the meetings, scheduling studio time and booking out the conference room.

For months, Eddie’s life revolves around Steve Harrington. All he can think about are what chord progressions will have Steve’s voice sounding its best, all heavy and sweet, or what rhyme scheme the chorus should have to enhance its emotional tenor in the way Steve wants.

They record together, Steve in the booth and Eddie at the console. Sometimes Robin joins them, happy to take on second guitar and suggest a new phrasing for a line that’s giving them trouble.

Steve enlists the same band he’d used on his first album and Eddie’s kind of impressed by how well they all seem to get along. How committed they are to helping Steve figure out the vision for this album.

Towards the end of recording—long months spent trying new things, taking out second guitar here, adding a keyboard track in there—Steve convinces Eddie to play lead guitar on one of the tracks they wrote together. It’s one of the unfinished ones from the demo Eddie had been so enchanted by, the one that Steve had said was giving him trouble on the bridge. They’d spent long nights in Eddie’s office ordering late-night pizzas and trying to figure out how to make the song work. Eddie was so frustrated he was about to suggest they just scrap the whole thing until Steve started drumming on one of the discarded pizza boxes, humming along with a switched-up melody, a reversal of what they already had, a dramatic shift from chorus to bridge and back again. Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare and then the words were coming, Steve finishing his sentences when Eddie stumbled searching for the right word. By morning, the song was finished.

Eddie agrees to play, if only because he loves the song so much, so proud of the work they’d put into it. It has nothing to do with the way Steve’s sweet smile spreads over his face or the faint pinkness Eddie can see rising in his cheeks. In the end, Eddie’s even convinced to lend his vocals to the song. He doesn’t let himself think about how good they sound together, Steve’s deep voice belting out the lyrics with Eddie’s softer cadence just underneath.

~*~

Steve goes out on tour almost immediately after they finish recording. The record label says there’s so much buzz around the album, so much anticipation, that they should strike while the iron is hot.

“Don’t forget about me out there on the road,” Eddie jokes, voice light and airy. He and Steve are at his favorite coffee shop, just down the street from his offices.

“Could never,” Steve tells him, smiling, tone just on the wrong side of serious. He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve been dancing around each other for months, probably since they’d started recording if Eddie’s really honest with himself. But Eddie has rules and he’s been burned before. So when they’ve finished their coffee, they part ways. Eddie wishes Steve luck on his tour and Steve says he’ll be in touch.

Eddie’s life goes back to normal.

~*~

They text sporadically. Eddie doesn’t mind. He remembers how chaotic and stressful tour had been when he’d done it and he hadn’t been nearly as huge as Steve is now. Eddie knows it’s an endless parade of meet-and-greets and sound checks and dress rehearsals, one day blending into another. He’s surprised Steve even reaches out to him at all.

Steve is set to perform the last show of his tour at Madison Square Garden. Eddie thinks about showing up, grabbing the free tickets he gets as part of the job and surprising Steve. He thinks about it a lot actually, all five months Steve’s gone, fantasizes about how Steve might greet him, how he’d pull him into the green room backstage and…

A week before the show, Steve calls him.

“Hey, man!” Steve sounds winded and breathy. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, same old same old.” Eddie tries to sound as casual as possible, but he can’t control the grin that spreads across his lips.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, listen, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d be open to, uh. Coming to my show at the Garden?” Eddie thinks he might be imagining the nervous lilt to Steve’s voice, the unsure way he poses the question.

“Yeah, man, of course. I’d love to be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.” Eddie doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Steve has hung up on him.

~*~

The night of the concert, Eddie shows up backstage, feeling just a little out of place. He’d bypassed the front of house, but he hadn’t missed the line of young women and girls snaking out of the venue doors and onto the streets of Manhattan. He had known Steve was big, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

A woman with short blonde hair leads Eddie into the green room. Steve’s getting his makeup done, but when he sees Eddie in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes light up and he smiles, wide and goofy. He pushes up from his chair and crosses the room, moving to pull Eddie into a hug before Eddie can even say anything, arms looped around Eddie’s neck. Steve is warm against him, his muscles firm and soft—a strange juxtaposition—as Eddie wraps his own arms around Steve’s waist.

“So happy you’re here,” Steve whispers against his ear, breath hot. Eddie can’t even react before Steve’s pulling away, crossing back over to his chair and dropping himself into it. Steve looks at Eddie in the reflection, their eyes meeting. “I have a favor to ask.” Steve suddenly sounds hesitant, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Eddie jokes, winking at Steve in the mirror. “What is it this time?”

Steve blushes. “I know you don’t really perform anymore, but I was hoping you’d help me out with our song? It’s the last song of the show.”

The words our song echo in Eddie’s ears and he can’t help his smile. Sure, he doesn’t really perform anymore, but, he realizes in this moment, he’d do pretty much anything for Steve. The thought should be terrifying, but somehow it isn’t.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” Eddie watches Steve practically sag in relief. “I’d love to.”

Before long, Steve is being rushed around, manhandled on his way to the stage, and Eddie is left to follow behind so he can watch from the wings.

Eddie had thought he’d known Steve. They’d written and recorded together for months, felt every emotion possible in the time it had taken them to complete the album. But watching Steve perform is something else entirely. Steve glows under the harsh stage lights, smiling and charismatic as he jokes with the girls in the front row vying for his attention. It’s magical to watch Steve perform the songs they’d made together, to sing words from Eddie’s own brain. Eddie is transfixed by the way Steve’s lips wrap around each note, like each word that comes out of his mouth is the most important word that’s ever been spoken. Steve is otherworldly on stage.

“For the last song, I have a surprise,” Steve stops in front of the mic stand as someone rushes to bring him his favorite guitar. He pulls the strap over his head. Someone on the side of the stage nudges Eddie, holding out a guitar that Eddie’s never seen before. If he’d known about this, he would have brought his own beloved sweetheart, but he’ll have to make do with what he has. No backing out now. “You’ve probably heard of Eddie Munson.” Steve smiles as the crowd cheers. “Yeah, he’s a huge deal. He’s worked with everyone from Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers to Bruce Springsteen and Metallica.” The crowd cheers again. “I worked really closely with him on this album,” Steve smiles. “And he took something raw and messy and made it so fucking great.” The crowd screams. “I always close the show with my favorite song off the album. It’s the one that took us the longest to write. We were so frustrated, I thought Eddie was gonna tell me to just forget it. We spent so many all-nighters stuffing our faces with pizza and cursing ourselves for ever even thinking we should write this stupid fucking song.” Steve laughs with the crowd. “But then, one night it all clicked. It all came together. It was like magic, sitting there with Eddie on some ugly couch in his office, just about ready to give up. We made magic together.” Steve looks out at the crowd. “So. Eddie’s here to help me share this song with you.” The crowd goes wild as someone pushes Eddie out onto the stage, but Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Steve, who’s smiling at him from under the lights, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Playing the song is easier than Eddie had thought it would be. The notes come to him like muscle memory, like he could play this song in his sleep. He can’t take his attention away from Steve where he sings into the microphone. It’s all too much for his heart to handle. He feels like he might die here, right on the spot.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it’s all over. The crowd is deafening and Eddie’s got a smile on his face so wide his cheeks ache. Steve waves to the crowd before taking Eddie’s hand and leading him off stage.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, pulling Eddie along down the backstage hallways back towards the green room. “That was un-fucking-real.” Steve’s smiling, cheeks red.

Eddie can’t say anything at all. All he can do is follow helplessly behind Steve, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heartbeat so loud he’s sure Steve can hear it.

They’re back in the green room before Eddie can even blink. Suddenly, his back is pressed up against the closed door, Steve practically plastered to his front. He can barely breathe as Steve’s lips crash into his.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling back slightly. His breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “Been thinking about you for months.” His voice is soft, barely there.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie groans, running a hand through Steve’s hair, trying to pull him back in. “It’s so okay, Stevie.”

Steve lets out a groan of his own and then he’s kissing Eddie again, lips parting and tongue curling against Eddie’s.

Eddie’s not sure how long they stand there pressed up against the wall, hands tangled in hair, kissing each other breathless. All too soon a knock comes from the other side of the door and they jump apart.

“Steve?” A muffled voice calls out from the hallway. “You have a meet-and-greet in five.”

Steve looks at Eddie, laughing a little. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot,” he whispers, before raising his voice to respond to whoever’s outside, “Okay, just a minute!” He kisses Eddie one last time, soft and so sweet. “Come with me?” He asks.

Eddie nods and follows after Steve.

~*~

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve takes picture after picture. It’s kind of uncanny, the way Steve’s smile seems genuine in every photo he takes, the interest he seems to take in every person who comes to meet him.

The line has dwindled down when the next group of fans catch sight of Eddie in the shadows. “Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, before turning toward Steve. “Can we get a picture with you and Eddie?”

Steve laughs, already nodding, before turning towards Eddie. “You mind?” He asks, holding his hand out for Eddie. Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s and has his picture taken.

~*~

After, Steve invites Eddie back to his fancy hotel room, but Eddie counters by inviting Steve to his apartment. Steve’s face brightens, clearly excited to see where Eddie lives. Eddie tries to mentally envision how he’d left his apartment, thinks it’s probably safe for world-famous superstars to visit.

They take Steve’s car, his driver dutifully ignoring whatever’s going on in the back seat, and by the time they make it up the six floors to Eddie’s door, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They crash through the front door, attached at the lips. They stumble down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom and Eddie all but tackles Steve down into the sheets.

The next morning, Steve insists on making a homemade breakfast. Eddie rarely cooks, but by some miracle, he’s got eggs and bacon in his fridge. Eddie knows he’s got a dopey look on his face as he sits at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, watching Steve move around his space.

Later, when they’re curled up together on the couch and Steve is dozing against his chest, Eddie scrolls through his Instagram feed. He’s tagged in a ton of photos from the night before, up on stage with Steve, eyes fixed on each other as they play their guitars, crisscrossing beams of light all around them. He scrolls for a few more moments, before he sees the picture they’d taken together at the meet-and-greet, with the three girls who’d asked for a picture with Steve and Eddie. Steve’s blushing, his hand still holding Eddie’s, a wide smile on his face. Eddie’s just as flushed, eyes glassy, but he’s not even looking at the camera, face turned toward Steve instead. He looks lovestruck. It would be embarrassing, but Steve shifts in his arms, letting out a tiny little sound from the back of his throat.

Eddie screenshots the photo and saves it to his camera roll.

~*~

@thecaptainsgingersnap gave me “dealer's choice lyrics from Superstar” :)

This turned out waaaaayyyyyyy longer than I originally planned, so I probably should’ve split it into two posts, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!!

#in this universe eddie munson co-wrote tolerate it #i know what song they wrote together but I’m keeping it to myself lol #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson

2K notes · View notes

artsyunderstudy · 8 months

Text

I will never regret you.

Illustrations from the epilogue of Someone Wicked.

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz fanart #snowbaz fanfic #someone wicked #simon snow series #simon snow trilogy #carry on #carry on fanart #carry on fanfiction #wayward son #any way the wind blows #co/ws/awtwb #artsyart

1K notes · View notes

notafunkiller · 9 months

Text

you were mine just yesterday - co-written with @marvelouslizzie

Summary: It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.

Pairing: exes!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count: 10.7K

Warnings: 18+, second chance romance, teasing, dirty talk and pet names, language, jealousy, fingering, nipples play, oral séx (the reader receiving), choking, clit play, metal arm, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), aftercare, alcohol (but she is not even tipsy), death mention, no mention of y/n.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission! I really hope you’ll enjoy it, I can’t wait to read what you think.

The screams he hears when he opens the door and holds it so Natasha can get inside first already make him regret agreeing to this. He absolutely hates crowded places, but at the same time the food is great here, and it's literally one street away from his apartment, he can suck it up a little.

“Come on, I'm starving.”

Bucky looks around, trying to spot anything and anyone that could be suspicious, but everything seems fine.

“You can't relax even for a second, can you?”

He rolls his eyes, but right before he can comment something sarcastic in return, he hears it... your laugh, followed by a strong smell of cherries, and he immediately looks toward the bar. There you are: dressed in a lovely shirt and your favorite pair of pants, with a huge smile on your face. You look out of this world but you aren't alone, no. His stomach aches at the sight of you sharing drinks with his fucking best friend as if nothing else matters.

“Bucky?” Natasha's voice isn't enough to make him tear his eyes off you. “Hey! You said you're starving.”

“What the fuck is this?”

Bucky’s voice doesn’t go unheard by Steve.

“Oh shit,” he mumbles. “Bucky is here with Natasha.”

The moment you hear Natasha’s name you feel like someone punched you in the guts. You instantly start looking around and it doesn’t take long until you finally see them together, standing there and looking for a place. Bucky with Natasha… Why doesn’t that surprise you? A better question: Why does it hurt that much to hear it? You should have expected this.

“We should go and say hi. They're staring.”

“Is this a fucking joke?” Bucky finally looks at Natasha with a deep frown. “Did you know this?”

“Know what?”

He finds it hard to speak as if something was stuck in his throat. “About... them.”

“I didn’t know they would be here.”

Bucky seems like he doesn’t know what to do. He's trying his best not to have a breakdown right then, because how could this happen to him?

“Maybe we should leave,” you say to Steve, feeling uncomfortable already. You are in no mood to watch Bucky and Natasha together. But when you make a move to stand up, Steve gently touches your hand to stop you.

“You can’t run away from him forever.” He’s right. You can’t. You don’t feel like facing them today, but you shouldn’t be the one running either. You slowly sit back down, feeling grateful that you aren’t alone.

“Can you suck it up a little, Barnes? I won’t act like I didn’t see them just because you can’t face your ex, who, by the way, is still our friend.” Natasha rolls her eyes at him, hiding her smirk and starts to walk toward the bar. “Plus, they look like they’re having fun.”

You notice Steve smiling, but you have no idea why. When you see Natasha coming toward you and Bucky following her like a puppy, you understand and try to fake a smile, too, before taking a big sip from your drink.

“Hi. What a coincidence, nice to see you here.” Natasha leans in to kiss Steve on the cheek, then you after you let the glass on the table.

“Hi,” you force the word out of your mouth as nicely as you can. It’s not that you dislike Natasha. On the contrary, you find her a smart, well-traveled, obviously, woman. You liked her opinions in most of the conversations you had, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t jealous of her when she’s around Bucky because of the same reasons.

“So nice to see you, Natasha.” Steve keeps the conversation going. “Bucky!” He tilts his head just a little to see him behind Natasha.

You don't dare to look, though. Your hands are already sweating. Seeing him so close would make your state even worse.

“Steve.” You close your eyes instinctively at the sound of his voice, but you open them when he mentions your name too.

“Hi.”

“What are you having? This looks sooo tasty.” Natasha has always been good at making conversation regardless of her feelings, and you never wished more than then to be like that too.

“Oh.” Steve casually stirs his drink with the cocktail pick. “It’s a cherry cocktail but it’s not on the menu.”

“Of course.” Bucky steps aside from behind Natasha and comes closer to you with a serious, unreadable expression. “The famous cherry cocktail.” His tone is dripping in sarcasm as he leans in and, without any warning, he takes Steve's glass and downs it in three seconds. “Less flavor than usual.”

You don't realize the death glare you're giving Bucky until you feel Steve's hand on your skin, probably trying to calm you down. You can’t believe his audacity. This is the man who broke your heart and left you and he thinks he can just come here and act like this? Hell no!

Bucky's eyes fall to your arm and leans in again, placing the empty glass down and taking two cherries from the cherries glass.

“It’s fine,” Steve says in a way that is extra calm.

“Yeah, it is fine.” You find yourself agreeing immediately. “I can get them to make you a better one.”

“Well, I am curious now.” Natasha gives you a warm smile. “Or do we interrupt something?”

“I can order you one, as well, if you want.” You offer with a fake smile on your face, ignoring her implication. You can feel Bucky’s gaze on you even though you aren’t looking in his direction.

“No need. Come on, Nat. I’m starving.”

Nat…

“You sure?” You are only looking at Natasha and ignoring Bucky. “I can talk to the bartender and he can bring you the cocktail. He’s a good friend, he wouldn’t mind.”

Bucky puffs, shaking his head.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve can't help but ask.

“Yeah, are you okay?” You try to look as casual as possible.

“If I weren't, would you offer me a drink made by your good friend, too?” His eyes and voice don't tell you much. He asks you this in the most casual way possible. Even Natasha looks surprised.

“I think you need something stronger.” Your eyes are wandering to Natasha for a second. “Since you already tried it and didn’t like the cherry cocktail that much.”

He shrugs, not denying what you said despite it being a huge lie. Then he smirks and looks at Natasha and Steve. “I assume you don't mind us joining you, right? I'm starving.”

Of course he doesn’t ask you. He knows your answer and still decides to do this. Okay, if that’s what he wants…

Steve turns his head to you, asking you indirectly if this is okay, and you nod, trying not to look affected. Especially when he sits next to you with Natasha on his left.

You instinctively move away from him and closer to Steve.

Bucky starts to take off his jacket as he speaks. “I'm not gonna eat you, you know?”

“Hmm?” You give him a look.

“I'm not into human meat, don't worry.” He takes off his gloves. Your eyes immediately fall to his hands and you feel the sadness spread inside you. It’s so overwhelming to be around him, yet you don’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing how hard this is for you.

“I’m aware. I’m just more comfortable like this.” You reach for your drink and take a sip, turning your attention to Steve. “Should I order a new one for you or would you rather drink something else?”

Bucky puffs. “He can order for himself. He is over 100 years old, doll.”

You ignore Bucky’s comment and look over to Natasha. “Do you wanna try the cocktail, Natasha?”

She hesitates, looking at you and at Bucky, and you try not to roll your eyes.

“Do you have any suggestions with strawberries? I love strawberries.” She points to Steve. "He does, too."

“I’m more of a cherry girl, but we can ask my friend. I’m sure he has some good suggestions.”

“Such a close friend”

“Yeah.” You ignore Bucky and raise your hand. The bartender gives you a smile before coming closer.

“Hey. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fantastic. I just need another one of these.” You raise your nearly empty glass. “And Natasha wants to ask for your recommendations for a drink with strawberries.” You point at her while saying her name.

He gives a few options and both Steve and her agree on one.

“What about you?”

Bucky looks at him bored. “A burger: chicken, extra pickles, please.”

“Any drinks?”

“Your cheapest beer will do.” You respond instead of Bucky, and he immediately gives you a questioning look and lifts his eyebrow. But he doesn’t seem to care, and the bartender just nods and leaves.

“So,” Natasha starts. “For how long have you two been hanging out?”

Steve looks at Bucky. “We never stopped hanging out.”

“Why would you?” Natasha winks at you, and Bucky feels he is going crazy. Many images of you and Steve laughing, walking together, even kissing take over his mind.

“Exactly.” You smile in response.

“What about you two?” Steve asks with a mischievous smile on his face.

“What about us?” Bucky asks immediately, giving Steve a hard look. “Do you want to gossip with the ladies present?”

“That never stopped you before.” You didn’t intend to say it out loud, but it’s already out there.

Bucky's head instantly turns to you. “What?”

“I said that never stopped you before.” It’s too late to back out so you decide to go for it. Bucky usually doesn’t care who is around. He says what he wants to say when he wants to say it. So your presence shouldn’t stop him.

“I heard you the first time. I was waiting for additional explanation.”

“Oh, good. I thought your hearing was getting worse for a sec.” You just look into his eyes. “You always say what you wanna say. So why would us being present stop you now?”

“My senses are perfect, thank you for your concern. Natasha and I are hanging out, too, obviously.”

Your bartender comes back with the drinks and that stops the conversation. He puts your drinks by one by, saving Bucky’s beer for the last.

“We’re out of our cheapest one so I brought the second cheapest. I hope that’s okay.”

“I'll survive,” Bucky murmurs.

“Your burger is coming up in five minutes.” And with that remark, he leaves you four alone.

“This tastes amazing,” Steve smiles, squeezing your hand, and Natasha immediately agrees.

“Yeah.”

“Glad you like it.”

“Want to try it, Bucky?” She asks him with an innocent smile, which makes your blood boil.

Bucky shakes his head and drinks from his bottle. “Ah, this tastes too expensive.”

“You’ll survive,” you whisper, imitating his tone.

“Oh, I will.” He gives you the most charming smile you've seen in a while and takes your glass to take a sip.

“Will you stop drinking other people’s drinks without asking them?” You can’t hide how done you are with his entitled ass.

“You'll survive, I'm sure.” He mocks you without a care in the world. You can feel the tension increasing, but you have no idea what to do. You can’t control your reactions, and he keeps pushing you.

“Oh, I will, but…” You move closer to him just a little. “If you need… you know… some help you can have a drink on me.”

“Hmm.” He chuckles and moves closer, too immediately catching on to what you meant. “Don't worry about it, I am sure Nat would cover me.”

“I am sure she would.” You smile back, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and break the glass into tiny pieces, so you just put your drink in front of him. No way you are gonna keep drinking that.

“Hey, Adam!” The bartender looks at you from a bit far away. “Same drink, please.” He winks first and then nods.

Bucky frowns and downs the drink, trying to look unaffected. “You had no problems sharing drinks with me before.”

“Now I’m more careful about what I put into my body.”

Steve tries to mask his laugh by fake coughing, but you notice anyway. So Bucky must do it, too.

“I can see that. You don't mind sharing drinks with my best friend now.” He gives you a bitter smile for the first time in ages. The way he emphasized the word drinks makes you wonder what’s running through his mind.

Adam comes back with his burger and side dish, and you feel your mouth water. “Enjoy and let me know if you want anything else.”

Bucky takes a big bite from his burger as you reach out to his fries and take a couple without a care. If he can freely drink your cocktail, you can steal some of his fries.

Natasha and Steve look at you surprised.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, chewing loudly on purpose.

“Taking some of your fries.”

“Thought we don't share drinks and food anymore. We moved on from that. We passed that stage.”

You remark his and Natasha's closeness again and feel your blood boil.

“So it’s okay for you to do it, but it’s a problem when I do it?” Yet you take another fry and put it inside your mouth, looking directly into his eyes. You want him to know this is not about fries or sharing stuff.

Bucky's surprise is visible all over his face. He's simply speechless even after Adam brings you your drink and you give him a forced smile.

“Thanks, Adam,” You say like everything is fine. “I will use the restroom. Would you keep an eye on my drink for me, Steve?”

And you leave without waiting for an answer.

You go to the restroom, lock your door and sit down. You just need a minute alone because all of this is too much for you. Seeing him with Natasha tonight is hard enough, but he keeps challenging you. He acts like nothing is changed, but everything changed when he decided to walk away. Even though you don’t wanna admit it, your feelings for him are still there and they’re making everything harder.

You take a couple of deep breaths and remind yourself this was going to happen one day. It just happened to be today and you can get through it. You’ll be fine.

You get up, unlock the door and just wash your hands, splashing some water on your neck, too, before you look at yourself in the mirror. At least you are looking alright.

You jump when you hear the door opening and turn around just to see Bucky locking the door again.

“This is the ladies’ room!”

He looks at you as if he can't understand what you're saying.

“I said this is the ladies-”

“I heard you the first time. What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

You puff. “I should be the one asking that question.”

“I am not here sharing drinks with your best friend, am I?” He walks toward you.

“No, you are here with Nat.”

Bucky washes his hands in response, not understanding how you can compare Nat with Steve. You are here on a date with his best friend.

“Have fun with Nat and stay away from my drinks.” You leave the ladies’ room, but he’s right behind you.

“I wasn't finished with you.”

“That sounds like a you-problem. I have a drink that’s waiting for me.”

“Just be honest and say Steve is waiting for you.”

“Just like Nat is waiting for you.” You look like you are tired of this conversation already when you snap.

“Are you having fun, doll? Are we bothering you? Did you want to enjoy your date all alone?”

You make a face when you hear the word date. So that’s why he was acting like that. He thinks you are on a date with Steve. “What I do with my life is none of your concern! Just go and enjoy your own date.”

“None of my concern, right?” His calm facade is finally falling. “You are on a fucking date with my best friend!”

“Oh, so that’s why you decided to be an ass? Because you think Steve picked up the toy you threw away?”

When he gets so close to you, you feel like you're suffocating. “Careful.”

“Or what?”

“You forgot what happens?”

“Oh,” you say in a mocking tone. The audacity he has! “Well, too bad you don’t get to do that anymore.”

“Does he do that?” He closes his eyes, still too close to you. “Do you let him touch you? Is this why he isn't around?”

You raise your hand instantly, wanting to slap him right there for crossing a line, but you manage to control yourself, remembering his past. You see him closing his eyes instinctively and you sigh. You might be mad at him, but you wouldn't hurt him like this. He is not a bad person… And you don’t wanna bring his trauma back.

You take a deep breath and retreat your hand.

“Maybe he isn’t around because you are an ass, did you consider that?”

“Why him?” He opens his eyes. “I would take all of your slaps instead of living through this.”

He sounds so weak, and tired, and sad. There is a part inside you that gets angrier because he thinks so low of you, but there is another part that understands and wants to assure him you would never do that to him.

“Why him what? I’m not dating your best friend, Bucky. Pull your head out of your ass!”

He freezes. He really freezes and lets out a deep, deep breath as if he's been holding it for a long time. His forehead drops until it meets yours, and you gasp surprised.

“I was going insane, baby. I felt like my life was just...”

You take a step back, not letting yourself enjoy his touch or his baby. “It doesn’t change the fact that you are here with Nat.”

“What about Nat?”

“What about Nat?” You repeat his question. “Did you forget she’s waiting for you? Or the fact that you suddenly left me? Me not dating Steve changes nothing. So stop calling me baby or doll or whatever charming pet name you come up with.”

Bucky laughs humorlessly as he shakes his head. “You think I'm really with Nat? You think I could ever replace you? That I'd even try?”

“Then why the fuck did you leave me?” You are so close to shouting, but you still don’t want people to hear you. Your eyes are getting filled with tears.

“Why do you think, huh? Do I look happy to you? You think I'd leave you to date Romanoff?”

“Why not? She’s perfect!”

Bucky looks at you dumb-faced. “For who? For what? Why do you...”

“For you! You two are a perfect match!” You take a breath, trying to contain your emotions. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

He is instantly touching your arms again, making you shiver. “Why would you say that?”

“Because even if you aren’t dating now, you will realize how perfect she is for you eventually. So go back inside. Don’t let her wait.” You sniffle, your head is slightly shaking because of all the emotions you are holding back.

His flesh hand grabs your chin and you feel his hot lips on top of yours before you can react.

The way he kisses you makes you wanna cry even more. It reminds you of everything you tried so hard to forget yet never managed to…

Even though you want to give in, you take a step back. You can’t handle another heartbreak.

“Don’t…” The tears start to fall down. “Just don’t.”

“Do you not want me?” His eyes are teary, too, and there is nothing to hide anymore. But he can't ask this, he can't do this to you. He is unfair. He left you, he broke it off. He...

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?” You try to dry your tears with the back of your hand. “You can’t just come back, kiss me and expect everything to be fixed!”

“I am so fucking sorry, baby. I wasn't trying to hurt you.” He stops himself and sighs. “I really don't deserve you. I keep making you cry.”

“Saying sorry isn’t enough, Bucky. What did you think would happen when you left me? Did you think it wouldn’t break my heart? Is this what you want to hear? That you broke my heart when you left me? Here! I’m heartbroken because of you. Happy now? Can we go back inside now?”

“I just wanted...” He shakes his head, wiping off his tears. “Let's just get inside.”

“What did you want Bucky? Tell me. What did you wanna hear?”

“I'm not worth it, that's fucking clear. I am sorry for this whole mess I brought into your life.”

“Don’t ever say that!” You angrily point your finger at him. “You know how much I think you deserve. This is solely about you leaving me. You made that decision, remember? I opened my heart to you and you left me! Don’t make me feel guilty about getting hurt.”

“Don’t you realize how dangerous it is?” He says desperately, looking you in the eye. “I would get you killed... we all would...”

“Really? Is that why you left me?” It angers you more than you imagined. This is probably the worst reason he could give you. Like you were safe before meeting him. As if he didn’t save your life.

“Bucky?”

You jump when you hear Natasha.

“What?” He snaps, looking at her. There is nothing in his eyes that can be even close to desire, you notice.

“Are you gonna come back or should we leave and let you cry for the rest of the night?”

“No, Nat, we're leaving.”

You grab Bucky’s arm and drag him out despite the shocked look on Natasha’s face, and Bucky just lets you.

“Pay the check. He's gonna transfer you the money for our order later,” you say casually while half of the restaurant looks at you.

Steve throws him his leather jacket without hiding his smirk, and Bucky catches it, giving him a typical Bucky look without saying anything.

“Where are we going?” Bucky finally asks when you’re outside and you let go of his arm.

“Your place obviously. Did you walk or took the motor like a lazy ass?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and puts on his jacket. “I walked.”

“Fine. So we are walking back to your place then.” You wait for him to move as he laughs and shakes his head.

“What?”

“You said that when we met too.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always been a stubborn ass. You remember him insisting the serum will do its job and he’ll heal faster, but you couldn’t just let him bleed, so you had to drag him to your place. “Just walk.”

“Bossy.”

“If I remember correctly, you said that when we met.” You don’t wait for him and just start to walk, trying not to think about what he said.

You miss his huge grin and his boyish look, but you hear his footsteps. He reaches your side in no time. “I missed you.”

You close your eyes for a second and try really hard not to say you missed him too. “I can’t do this again, Bucky. I can’t get my heart broken for the second time.” You sound like you are in pain.

He nods. “I didn't even think you’d want that.”

“I just don’t understand what you are trying to do.”

“You deserve to know the truth and the context, so you can stay away from us for good.”

You huff, but you don’t say anything. You two walk in silence for a while and luckily it doesn’t take more than five minutes to arrive at his place.

You get to his door and the familiarity is killing you. So many memories come to your mind and you're not even inside yet.

When you finally step in, it's like time has not passed: the TV, the couch... except for the sheet. The sheet is back on the floor.

“Are you sleeping on the ground again?”

Bucky sighs, taking off his shoes. “Can we ignore that? Let's focus on your questions. Do you want a glass of water?”

“Answer my question while pouring me a glass of water then.”

“The man who almost killed you when we met?” He opens the fridge and takes out the water bottle before directly handing it to you. “He's a part of the new wave of Hydra.”

You look at him, feeling completely confused. You don’t even notice the water bottle.

Hydra?

“They might know about you...” He bites his bottom lip entirely, showing his frustration. “We managed to take a few down. They are careless as fuck, so young and dumb.” He just puts down the bottle on the kitchen counter.

“You… left me… because you think they are after me because of you?”

Bucky looks away. “Does it matter?”

“Isn’t that why I am here? Because you wanted me to know the truth. So just tell me. Is that why you left me?”

“He knew your name, where you work, your family.” Bucky pauses, trying to control his anger. “He knew we were together. I have no idea how because you know... you know I never let my guard down. And what if they’d have gotten you? What if they do? You need to stay away from me, us.”

He can’t believe Steve or the rest thought it’s okay to continue to be around you.

“So you decided to leave me alone, be a more vulnerable target. Good job Bucky! Very well done!” You start to clap. “You are the dumbest person I have ever met.”

“Do you honestly think I left you unprotected?” Bucky puffs, as if he can't believe you'd ever think that.

“Then why did you have to leave? What was the point, huh? If they already knew all that stuff about me… about us… What the fuck was the point?”

“What if they kidnap you or kill you just have me back?”

You sigh. “You know that’s always a possibility in our world right?”

He hesitates before speaking. “What if they trigger me?”

You take a frustrated deep breath. There is no way they can do that again. No way! But if he thinks that, then it means he doesn’t trust himself or his skills. Again. “You accepted the defeat already.”

Bucky snaps immediately. “Do you not understand I could kill you? I could kill you and not even...” He closes his eyes unable to look at you as he speaks. He could not recognize you. He could make you suffer in the worst possible ways if you were his target.

“This is why I said you accepted the defeat already!”

“I could kill you...” Bucky repeats so shaken.

“You wouldn’t.” You’ve never been more sure in your life.

“How do you know that? I almost killed everyone...”

“You didn’t kill Steve.”

Bucky gets closer again, shocked by how calmly you talk about his worst nightmare. “I can't risk that. I cannot risk your life.”

“So you would rather leave me alone and heartbroken.”

“Yes.” His answer comes instantly. “If you're alive, that's-”

“And go back to sleeping on the ground!”

“It's not like I sleep much anyway.” The way he says it... like it's not a big deal at all amazes you.

“You know what bothers me about all of this? Something I didn’t think you would do...”

“What?”

“You took my choice away.”

Bucky is shaking when he hears you, completely taken aback.

“Instead of telling me about all the risks, you decided on your own. I would never do that to you.”

“I dreamed about this. I... I saw you,” he pauses. “I was choking you."

“Not something you didn’t do before.” Your response comes instantly, without much thinking because the tension is killing you and you want to lighten the mood a little. “Choking, I mean.”

And he smiles. You make him smile and it feels like you won the lottery. “You quite liked that.”

“You did, too.”

“I did, you were very pretty.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky sighs, not knowing what to say. “I'm sorry for putting you through all of this.”

“There’s something else you should also apologize about.”

“What?”

“For taking my choice away...”

“I am sorry for that,” he says instantly. “But I don't regret it. I made the right choice.”

“If you don’t regret it, we don’t have anything to talk about. I don’t need your sorry.” If he doesn’t regret it, what’s the point of this conversation?

“Your life is worth everything to me." His voice is so soft as he speaks.

“I understand that, but it doesn’t make it any better.”

“I am sorry for not telling you." He keeps apologizing.

“You don’t regret it, though. So… I don’t know where to go from here. Maybe I should go.”

He tries to hide his disappointment. He's being unfair and he knows it. “If that is what you want... let me grab the hamlets and I can give you a ride.”

“I don’t need a ride.” You don’t want to be that close to him on his motorcycle. You can handle yourself. You wish things were different, that he had told you the truth. You would have to make him see things from your perspective, but he didn’t share anything with you. He pushed you away completely.

“No fucking way.” Bucky shakes his head. “You should know this by now.”

“You’re not my boyfriend anymore so you don’t have a say.”

“No,” he simply responds.

“The sooner you accept that you have no say in my life anymore the better.” He can’t keep acting like he’s a part of your life. You understand his fear, his good intentions, but he refuses to see the whole picture. You’re not safe either way and he still protects you. He could have done it and still be by your side.

Bucky comes even closer to you. “It's not safe. Did you not hear me until now?”

“So dropping me off is somehow safer? Do you ever hear yourself? You told me you left me because my life was in danger and you don’t regret breaking my heart. And now you wanna drop me home and make me a target again? Is sleeping on the ground killing your brain cells too?”

“I have a fucking metal arm.” He raises his left arm. “I didn't mean just Hydra's dumb men. I mean normal dumb men too.”

“I did not forget that you have a metal arm, but you did since you broke up with me. And you apparently also forgot that I can handle dumb men all by myself. You chose this! You had your reasons, I get it, but you can’t just come back whenever you feel like it, okay? You can’t go all passive-aggressive like you did to Steve because I am on a date. You can’t offer to drop me off. If you’d decided to get out of my life, stand by that choice. Since you don’t regret it, it shouldn’t be that hard.” With every sentence, your anger is rising. You don’t realize you say the words like you’re spitting them out.

“I did not mean it like that.” He ignores the comment about how you can handle yourself because there are limits to that. “I regret not being with you, deciding that for you if that's what you mean, but I don't regret making this choice for your own good. And you would have gotten bored of me anyway. I have too much baggage, too. You shouldn't have to deal with this shit."

You shake your head, absolutely crushed by his words. How can he think he’s so hard to love? How can he… “If lying to yourself helps with sleeping at night, go for it, but that’s not the truth.”

Bucky sits down on the couch. “You cannot deny I am right.” He sighs. “Let me call you an Uber at least.”

“You want me to lie and I can’t do that, Bucky. You were the love of my life. I would never get bored of you.” You don’t know why you are saying all this. You thought and think about him constantly. He wasn’t just your boyfriend, he became your best friend.

You can see the surprise and happiness all over his face right away. He's glowing.

“You were mine, too, I hope you know that.”

“I didn’t. Not until now.” You bite your lip, trying to hold back your tears. It’s just so hard.

“I wish things could be different, but I promise I'll keep protecting you.”

That makes something inside you snap. “It could’ve been different! But you chose this!” Your anger is suddenly pouring out. “I don’t want your protection. You are either in my life or out of it. There’s no in-between. Do you understand me?”

“No.”

“God, I hate you so much! I hate how stubborn and stupid you are! I hate that you never listen to me! I fucking hate how you make me feel!”

Bucky stands up. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I don't want to talk and hold you and make love to you? Do you think it's easy, huh? No! But someone has to make these decisions! I won’t let you die because you're stubborn.” He's so red and angry. “I am not worth it.”

“For fuck’s sake! I’ve had enough of this, okay? One second you tell me you have to stay away and another that you wanna make love to me. You treat me like shit and then kiss me! Why do you do that, huh? Why?” You don’t wait for a response, letting out everything you have been holding in. “I don’t fucking care if it’s easy or not. You know why? It wasn’t my decision. YOU DIDN’T LET ME CHOOSE YOU. So if you are suffering that’s on you, pal. My suffering is on you, too. Now get out of my way. I wanna go home.” You try to breathe and control your anger again, but it feels impossible.

“What do you want me to do? Risk your life?”

“I want you to get out of my way and stay away from me. I’m done with talking, arguing, and crying.”

“You won't see me.” He looks away as he promises you that, and you feel like crying more than ever. That's it? “But you have to promise me you won't see the others.”

“The others?”

“Natasha, Steve, Sam. We are all the problem.”

“Oh, hell no. Fuck no! No!” You point your finger at him, angrily. “You don’t get to decide shit anymore. Especially not about my life. You are done with making choices for me!”

“Did you not hear what I told you tonight? They should know better. I will have a discussion with them about it too. They are so stupid-"

“I don’t fucking care. Should I spell it out for you? Would that make it easier for you to understand? I DON’T FUCKING CARE! You don’t want to be in my life, fine. Your decision, but them… I’m not giving up on anyone.”

“Why are you so fucking stubborn? We are talking about death and life.”

“I made that choice the day we met, okay? When you fucking saved me. I’m way passed that point. They are my friends, too, and they will stay that way. This conversation is over.”

“I'll call you an Uber.” He murmurs, knowing continuing this would not a wise decision. He expected more from Steve at least. He knew how dangerous this is. At least Sam and Natasha seemed to understand.

You’re surprised when you see him suddenly giving you a funny look. “What?”

“I can't believe you really thought I could be with Natasha like that.”

Of course this would come and bite you in the ass!

“I always thought you two would be a good match.” That was always on the back of your mind, thinking if they gave it a chance it would work amazingly. She is beautiful, powerful, lethal… and Bucky deserves the best. Seeing them together double hurt.

He gasps as if he can’t believe this. “What?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“We were together and you thought I could ever replace you with her?” He sounds hurt and confused at the same time.

“Yeah. I was sure that would happen one day.”

He stares at you completely blank for a while and you don't know what he's thinking. You were honest.

“And you say I gave up on us? You thought I am gonna-”

“It doesn’t matter, Bucky, okay?”

It does, actually, very much, but you’re so tired and hurt and simply without energy.

“Fuck it.”

You don't expect him to take you by the back of your neck and kiss you, surprising you for the second time on the same night. You don’t understand why this set him off or what he’s trying to do. All you can think of is how much you missed this.

He whimpers when he realizes you don't reject him and licks your bottom lip.

You wanna cry. You wanna hit him. You wanna push him away, but you also want to keep kissing him. You hate how conflicted you are feeling.

He closes his eyes, letting you go. “I don't know why I...”

You know how that sentence would end. You don’t need to hear it. He doesn’t know why he can’t stay away from you.

“So you are really that dumb.”

He stares at your lips. “Fuck, maybe I am.”

“You definitely are, but I am dumber.”

You grab him by the collar and kiss him again. He doesn't hesitate to open his mouth and let your tongue find his, his hands grabbing your ass and bringing you so close that you feel his hard-on.

“Fuck.”

Everything feels overwhelmingly familiar and you missed this so much. You missed his lips, his taste, his touch, his smell… You grab his face with both of your hands and kiss him however you want, however you need.

“No one can replace you, alright?”

“Then what is the point of all this?” His face is still between your hands. “You want us to live in agony for the rest of our lives?”

“I just want to keep you safe, baby.” He kisses your palms. “I really don't want to risk your life. I couldn't survive!” He's haunted by that image of you dying, him killing you… He wouldn't be able to move on with his life.

“But I don’t wanna live like this.”

“How do you want to live?” He finally asks.

“I wanna be with you, Bucky, but you don’t let me. You don’t let me have you. You don’t let me move on. How am I supposed to live like this?”

“You want someone else?”

Seriously?

“I said all of those things and that’s what you heard?”

“I heard you, but it's all a mess. I am a mess. I would understand.” His tone is ice cold. He's so frustrating.

You grab his face with one of your hands again and force him to look you in the eye. “Would you really understand?” You question because you are damn sure he wouldn’t. “You would rather have me forgetting all about you and moving on than being with me?”

He seems to think intensely for a couple of seconds, contemplating, imagining different scenarios. You can feel his jaw clenching and you bite your lip.

“You know there is no turning back then, right?”

You don’t understand what he means. “Turning back from what?”

He kisses you as if that is the only answer he can give you. And kisses you. And kisses you until you feel the salty taste of his tears.

Your heart breaks seeing him like this. So vulnerable and tormented. You break the kiss, look at his face, and you feel yourself tearing up.

“You're so fucking stubborn, baby.”

“So are you.”

Bucky smiles, kissing away a few tears on your cheeks. “Can I have you?”

“You gotta work for that.”

That doesn’t seem to deter him. “Yeah? Good, I love working.”

“Yeah? Because it’s not gonna be easy.”

Bucky smiles sadly. “When do I like it easy?”

“I mean it, Bucky. You have to earn my trust back.”

He takes a step back. “And I mean it, I'm here to prove that. I know what a hard and long process it is, and I would never leave you alone again unless you are tired of me. I will protect you with my life, I promise.”

You can’t believe the switch he made. Finally!

“Good. Now come and kiss me because I missed you.” You finally admit it out loud. He’s being vulnerable, so can you, but he hesitates a little.

There’s something in his eyes, maybe it’s the willingness to do anything to earn your trust back, including holding back and waiting, but you don’t want to wait.

“I said gaining my trust will take time. I didn’t say I wanna wait, Bucky.”

“What's the difference?” He’s reluctant, not wanting to make another mistake.

“The difference is I am horny.” It’s been too long. You can’t hold back anymore.

A playful smirk takes all over his face as he comes closer to you. “Are you now? And what can I do about it?”

“I don’t know. What can you do?” You dare him like you don’t know all the things he can do.

“Depends.” His hands grab your neck softly.

“On what?” It’s astonishing how easy it is to fall back into habits.

“On the limits you want to set.”

“You know my limits.”

He looks at you surprised. “But do you trust me with this?”

“My trust issues aren’t over this, and you know it.” He always knew when and where to stop. Never made you feel unsafe. Your only problems are the way he left you and how his actions hurt you.

“Intimacy means a lot of trust,” he says but brings his hands down to your shirt anyway.

“I know. If you didn’t turn into someone else during the time we were apart, I trust you with this.”

“I don't have protection.”

You give him a look. “If you don’t wanna do it that’s fine.”

He snorts, literally ripping your shirt in half, buttons flying everywhere. “Yeah, I totally don't.”

His actions don’t surprise you. You are used to him ripping your clothes. You just look at your teared-away shirt, amused.

“Sounded like many excuses to me.”

“Do you not see my fucking erection?”

You look down, smiling. “Oh, I do see it.” It’s not something you can ignore.

“You lied to me,” he says in a low voice, taking off your bra in a couple of seconds using his flesh hand.

“About what?”

“About Steve. You wanted to drive me crazy.”

“I didn’t say anything about Steve.”

Bucky raises his eyes from your boobs to your face. “You let me think you are dating him.”

“You assumed I was dating him because we were out together and he was trying my favorite cocktail.” You start to unbuckle his belt, incapable to wait any longer. You missed him and his cock so much you are aching. “Take off your shirt.”

Bucky groans in annoyance. “Don't remind me. You made it for him.” He sounds like a jealous kid. “Take it off yourself.”

“Yeah, I was gonna make it for Nat, too.” You finally unbutton his pants and push them down without paying much attention.

Bucky laughs, tilting his head.

“What is so funny?”

He takes off his shirt. “Your voice is getting higher when you're angry.”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him to continue.

“Did Nat piss you off or something?” He unbuttons your pants, too, as he asks.

“You piss me off.”

Bucky smiles. “You tend to say that a lot. Nat doesn't think that.”

“What does she think?”

He pulls down your panties and you're surprised a little. You expected him to rip them.

“I guess I don't piss her off.”

You grab his face and make him look at you. “I bet you are on your best behavior around her.”

Bucky bites his lip. “Maybe I am.”

“Now who is lying?” You grip a little harder.

“I don't know, doll. Who is lying?” He moans.

“You enjoy it, don’t you? Seeing me like this? Getting me all worked up?”

You feel his hands on your hips all of a sudden. “You're getting flushed when you're worked up. So beautiful.” He leans in, trying to kiss you, but you don’t let him. You push him back. “Couch or bed?”

“Couch, it's closer unless you want the bed.”

“If you fucked anyone on that couch, I’m not even going close to it.” You look at him in the eye while saying that. It makes your skin crawl.

He grabs your face. “If you think I did this, maybe we shouldn't do anything.”

“What? We weren’t together.”

“I see.” His voice is so low that you barely catch it. What you said goes both ways.

“Don’t go all grumpy and jealous again. I didn’t fuck anyone.”

He puffs relieved. “I'm not grumpy.” He kisses you desperately, though, lifting you at the same time until you wrap your legs around him, and carries you to the couch.

He sits down and his hands drop to his sides, letting you find a good position on his lap.

You push him on his back while trying to make yourself comfortable. “Lay down.”

“I can't reach your tits from there.”

“Just lay down. You are gonna like this.”

He leaves a kiss on both of your breasts before doing what you said, waiting eagerly. You move closer and closer under your pussy is right above his face. He doesn't say anything, and quickly pulls you completely down as if you'd have changed your mind any second if he hadn't done it. You lose your balance for a second but quickly grab the arm of the chair for support.

His tongue is everywhere for a while before stopping on your clit directly. He teases you, though, licking around it, and you can't stand it. You move your hips, trying to get his tongue right where you need it, and he chuckles, sending small vibrations to your clit.

“Just stop teasing me,” you say impatiently. There’s no time for games.

You don't understand what he murmurs, but you feel his tongue finally on your clit at the same time he gets a finger inside you. That gets a loud moan out of you.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” You complain while he pumps his finger in and out.

You feel Bucky's vibranium hand making its way to your chest, and you gasp at the cold touch right on your nipple.

“You always find a way to do what you want to do.” But you aren’t complaining. It feels really good.

He adds a second finger inside you just when you finish your sentence.

“Oh, fuck you!” You say after moaning loudly. He’s definitely doing this on purpose.

He doesn't hesitate to move his fingers in a fast pace, opposite to the way he is using his tongue, which you know he does on purpose. Old habits...

“Just lick it properly if you don’t want me to torture you later.”

He pinches your nipple in response.

“Just stick your tongue out.” You move yourself a little bit away from his mouth.

He opens his eyes instantly and frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Taking matters into my own hands.”

His eyes glow and he immediately opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out eagerly. Then you grab his hair and lower yourself onto his mouth, gently riding it.

Bucky moans, keeping his tongue as flat as he can. He can literally die like this and he'd be the happiest man on earth.

You slowly pick up your pace, listening to your body and the need to come grows when he moans just because you tug on his hair a little harder.

His fingers start to move again, surprising you since you're the one riding his face.

It makes your knees shake; it becomes harder to move for a second.

“Oh fuck.” You curse loudly. “I’m gonna- come.”

He whimpers in approval and adds a third finger out of nowhere. You can’t say anything. The only thing you can do is moan while riding his tongue. Bucky keeps the same pace, squeezing your breast at some point until you finish all dizzy.

You take deep breaths, still holding onto the arm of the couch. Then he grabs your hips, lifts you up and you find yourself on your back. You yelp because of his sudden move. He kisses you before you can say anything and spreads your legs at the same time. You feel the wet tip of his cock right at your entrance and you moan, giving him access to deepen the kiss while raising your hips slightly so you can feel more of him.

“That was so good. I missed you so much.”

You stare at his wet chin and cheeks and smile. Your face is now wet, too, but you don't care as you kiss him again. You kiss him until you feel breathless. Then you look at him, still high from your orgasm.

“I think I should’ve been the one to say that.”

“I missed you so much.” He repeats as he pushes inside you,

“Oh fuck.” It feels so good, even better than you remembered. “I missed you, too!” You sound breathless.

“I fucked my fist a thousand times thinking about you.” Hearing that turns you on even more.

“Yeah?” So you weren’t alone because you thought about him. Only him. “I imagined my dildo was your cock like a thousand times, too.”

Bucky's thrusts are finally getting faster. “Yeah? Was it good?”

“Some great some underwhelming orgasms. Yours?” You wanna know so badly.

“Nothing can compare to your pussy.”

“Not even another pussy?” You want to push him, so you don’t hold back your question.

He grabs your face. “I'm inside yours right now and you wanna talk about other women?”

“You know what I want to hear.” And it’s definitely not other women.

Bucky's eyes soften a little as he kisses your nose. “I haven't been with anyone else. And no pussy can compare to yours. No one can compare to you, stubborn little baby.”

You don’t feel any shame when a loud moan escapes your lips. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Harder?”

“Whatever you want.” It’s like your mind suddenly switched off.

Bucky brings his vibranium hand to your mouth. “Suck then.”

You don’t say anything, you just wrap your lips around his finger and start sucking.

“Good girl.” He starts thrusting a little harder, enjoying the way you look so out of your mind. “My good girl, taking my cock so well. Did you miss it so much?”

You wanna say something, but your mouth is occupied. So you moan instead.

“A fucking sight.” He groans, taking his thumb out of your mouth despite your protests. “Never letting you go.”

“Oh, you finally made up your mind,” you say in a mocking tone.

“Gonna choke you with my cock next and we'll… fuck! see if you'll mock me then, too.”

“You can choke me now, you know.”

Bucky brings his flesh hand to your neck instantly and you frown. As much as you enjoy him finally slowly returning to his own habits, he's still being careful.

“Really?” Your eyebrow raises automatically.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna hold back, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

He sighs. “It's been a while, I don't want to hurt you.”

“Can you even hurt me?”

Bucky stops mid-thrust and raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“I think you might be getting old. Or maybe the serum is wearing off.”

You didn't expect him to bite it so quickly, but he does, grabbing your thighs and finally fucking you harder. “Gonna make you scream.”

“You are definitely getting old.,” you say half breathless.

“I won't make you bleed, baby. We can go harder than this after you get used to having sex with me constantly again.”

“I meant your memory.” He’s going really fast and it makes it harder to speak. “You forgot what I asked for.”

“Want me to choke you?” He moans, realizing what you mean. “Beg for it.”

“Just choke me, old man.”

He says something, but you don't understand what, and when you feel the cold metal on your neck, you don't even care. You close your eyes in pleasure.

“Like this? Is this what you want?”

“Yeah.” The words barely leave your lips. It feels amazing.

“No dildo can replace my cock, can it?”

“No.” You shake your head. “Nothing can.”

“No other man, either, right?” You feel his wet kiss on your neck. “No other super soldier. Not Steve.”

“Steve?” You can’t believe he’s actually asking this. Is he that jealous?

“No one else.”

You grab him by the hair and force him to look at you while you speak. “I don’t want anyone else. Do you hear me?”

Bucky smiles. “I don't hear you. Can you repeat it?”

“You bastard!” You smack his chest with a big smile.

“Bastard?” Bucky laughs, slowing his thrusts.

“Old bastard.” You laugh with him.

“Fuck, I'm gonna make your ass red.”

“Make me come first,” you say in a challenging tone.

He squeezes the sides of your neck a little harder than before and the pressure makes you dizzy in the best way. “You're so wet for me. So fucking wet and perfect for my cock.”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. No words, not even moan. Bucky smiles when he feels your whole body trembling and a few of his hair strands fall all over his face. His flesh hand goes to your clit, circling it a couple of times in the middle of your orgasm.

“Oh my fucking god…” You murmur. It’s like your whole body is electrocuted.

“Can you take my come, baby?” He asks squeezing your neck a little more. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna...”

“Yes, please.” It is like a whisper, but you know he can hear you. “Please.”

That's all it takes for him to come. And come. And come. A lot, you can feel it filling you and probably dripping out on the couch because there's so much come. You kiss his forehead and hair, anything you can, still feeling out of this world. It's like you could fly.

You missed this... Feeling like being one with him. Sharing this high. It feels you with all kinds of emotions.

“God, I missed this.”.

“Of course you did.” You giggle.

“Did you not?” He fishes once again before bringing his head to your boobs and licking all over them.

“Fuckkk.” Your laugh turns into moaning. You want to push your breasts more into his mouth. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

He sucks your right nipple in return. “Ihm.”

“If you keep sucking it I might come again.”

Bucky sucks even more, bringing his vibranium to your other breast.

“Move your hand on my clit,” you say after moaning loudly.

He does it quickly, making sure to tickle you before finally touching your clit. You giggle first, then moan when you feel his mouth sucking on your nipple while his fingers work on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy this double stimulation.

“So soft.” You can barely understand what he says while still sucking. You take a sharp breath when your legs start to tremble. He's enjoying every single whimper of yours as he keeps moving his mouth and hand at the same time.

You love hearing the sounds he makes while sucking on your nipple. You run your hands through his hair and enjoy your high to the fullest until it feels too much. You grab his hair and move his mouth away from you.

“That’s… that’s… enough.”

“Why?” He sounds like a little kid.

“I’m… sensitive.”

Bucky takes his mouth off immediately with a pop and kisses you as an apology. You tremble under his touch once again, sighing right after it.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s obvious that you don’t mind. You sound content and satisfied.

He completely gets out of you too while licking his finger. “Gonna get you a towel and a glass of water. And a blanket.”

“Why a blanket?” You look at him confused while Bucky stands up hesitatingly

“For you...”

“Did you sell your bed or something? Are we sleeping here?” You joke.

“I was gonna make you some fries...”

“Fries?” You straighten up a little, surprised.

“Yep. I think I have some pickles, too.”

“Okay.” A warm smile spreads on your face. This is the Bucky you remember. He smiles, too, and goes to the bathroom probably, but you hear his chuckle anyway.

“Come on, one more.” You try to force the fry inside his mouth, but he's a stubborn man.

“They are for you, baby. Eat!”

“If they are for me, I decide what happens to them and I want you to eat one more.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but takes the fry anyway. “Happy?”

“Very.” You take another fry and start chewing. “You know we should talk, right?”

“Well aware, yes.”

“Are we gonna or…” You’re hesitant because it feels good to be like this with Bucky after a long time, but you also know you should be talking and sorting things out.

“I was waiting for you to start.”

“The problem is I don’t know what to say.” Or where to begin. You feel like you’ve already said everything. Or better yet, you screamed it to his face.

“What do you want to know?”

“Are we trying again or are you gonna say this was a mistake?” It’s at the back of your mind. The fear of him leaving again…

“This could never be a mistake, love. I was simply trying to protect you the best way I knew. I will protect you.” He sounds genuine, but it doesn’t change how you feel.

“If you leave me again, it doesn’t matter why, you won’t have another chance.” Your tone is more serious than before. You want him to understand this. You can’t keep playing this back-and-forth game over and over again. You don’t believe in second chances, but this is an exception. The only exception you are ever willing to make because you understand his intentions, how his mind works, how his trauma still hits him. Dealing with Hydra again is a scary thing. You can’t imagine how he felt when he found out.

He looks at you so proud. “I know. I am lucky I got another chance in the first place. I am not even worth it.”

“Stop with the self-degrading talk, will you? I can’t stand it.” You always hated the way he talked about himself. He’s worth everything.

“But it's the truth.”

“I can’t believe you went back where you started the moment you left me. The self-degrading talk, sleeping on the floor…” It bothers you so much, like it’s somehow your fault, but you know it isn’t.

Bucky closes his eyes. He's not proud of it, but there is nothing he could have done to control it. “I am a lost case, I know.”

“Bucky,” you say in a surprisingly firm tone, and he opens his eyes back. “You’re worth everything, but you gotta believe it yourself first. I can’t magically make you see how wonderful you are. I don’t have that kind of power.”

“Sometimes I feel it, but sometimes... there are some really hard days, you know?” He sighs. “The past I had, my Winter Soldier past, too, the mess... it's hard to believe I deserve some kind of peace, but I'm trying.”

You know he is.

“You are a wonderful person, especially when you are not an asshole who thinks he knows the best for everyone.”

“I'm a super soldier, remember? I'm used to making these kinds of decisions.” He gives you a small guilty smile.

“You know what soldiers are meant to do right?” You quickly continue without waiting for an answer. “It’s definitely not making decisions.”

“No?”

“No. Good soldiers follow orders.”

He smiles. “I'm a bad one, don't you know? The worst soldier.”

“Until further notice you are not allowed to make decisions.”

“It's not that simple.”

“No, it’s pretty simple. Don’t tire that beautiful head of yours. It’s not meant to make decisions anyway.” You try to sound like a 40s husband on purpose.

Bucky's head snaps to you. “You sound like my grandfather.”

“So you are familiar how this works.” You finally give him a smile.

“I'm gonna take care of you. No one will hurt you.” He still doesn’t get it, so you decide to explain.

“You will do whatever I say until I trust you to make your own decisions.” Your voice is firm. You don’t like it, to be honest, because you know this is super hard, especially for someone like him... giving away the control knowing everything he's been through, but what choice do you have?

Bucky frowns. “What does that mean?”

“It means if you want me back, you will let me decide on things for a while. You took my choice away and made us both suffer. Letting me decide is how you earn my trust back.”

His stomach aches. “I don't feel... what does that mean? There are many things, I can't just...”

You can see the panic so clearly and you realize how this must have sounded. “Calm down, Bucky. I don’t mean everything. Just things about our relationship.”

“Your safety is off the table,” he says without hesitation, and you’re surprised he doesn’t protest about something else. “You can decide on everything else.”

“Nope. That’s what got us here.” You sound calm.

“You don't understand the level of the danger.” His voice is trembling. “Everything but your safety.”

“You fucking left me over this, Bucky!” You raise your voice a little because what if he finds another Hydra member and tries to leave you again? “How can I trust you and accept this? How can I know you won’t do it again and say it is for my safety?”

“Conditions. Name them all, I am up for it, but I cannot play around with this. I couldn’t sleep for weeks because of it. Please... I need to be in control just in this aspect. I need to protect you.”

You think for a second. “You talk to me first. That’s the condition.”

Bucky leans in and steals your fry, agreeing happily immediately. “Done.”

“And you need to respect my decisions. Even if you don’t like them. I don’t like yours all the time, but…”

“When did I not respect your decisions? I think you are very bright and rational, usually.”

“When you didn’t even ask me and took a decision for me.” You look into his eyes daringly.

“Would you have stayed away from me? And I said usually.”

“I wouldn’t and it would be my decision.” He can’t use this against you.

“Why?”

“I could hide, I could act like we aren’t together, I could act like I hate you, but I can’t stay away.”

“We could never act.” He kisses your forehead.

“Fine. We could only see each other in secret then.” That was another possibility.

He smiles like what you said reminds him of something. “When can we have a date?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I hope you won't change your mind.” He grabs your head and you squeeze it.

“I won’t ever change my mind about you.”

You kiss him before placing the plate on the coffee table and resting your head on his chest where it feels like home.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #my stories #co written with marvelouslizzie #my fanfics

957 notes · View notes

m-arkmywords · 11 months

Text

Strawberry Sorbet

pairing: mark x reader

genre: plug!mark, we have graduated from stoner!mark to plug!mark thanks to @markonthemoon, honestly a lot of fluff, smut, weed mentions and use

word count: 3,704

Pulling your jacket over your head, you ran to Mark’s car in your fluffy slides. You slid into the already-adjusted passenger seat to your liking and leaned in to hug him. “Greetings” you grabbed the back of his neck, letting your nails lightly graze his skin as you held him in embrace.

“You good?” He licks his lips, before taking a sip of his juice for his cotton mouth.

“Yeah, how you doing?” You both smile, instinctively. Every time you guys are together, all you can both do is smile. The shy glances exchanged, the extra effort in casual banter just to see each other laugh. You both are crushing on each other hard but neither of you want to admit it.

You met Mark a couple months ago, at a party, through a mutual friend. There was an instant connection when he joined into your discussion, abruptly. He challenged your opinion, which is something you’re not used to. “Ouch! If guys who make music are fuckboys then maybe women who are into musicians are haters!” His delivery was playful which made you want to bicker with him.

“Yo? Who invited this guy?!” You said pointing at him as everyone broke into laughter. You both introduced yourselves and continued the discussion for a while. Soon, you both settled outside, smoking a joint and he showed you the games on his phone. Ever since that night, you guys have been hanging out socially and you’ve been picking up from Mark. It has been so nice to find a plug in your social circle. It makes you less anxious not having to call random numbers and not knowing what to expect.

So tonight was no different when you got in his car to pick up some weed. As always, he had rolled you a little something in his special pink paper, with magenta hearts on it. “Let’s go smoke this and then I’ll drop you home, yeah?” He smiled, coyly before putting the car into gear and pulling out of your street.

Mark drove for a bit before parking near a canal and he passed you his lighter. “Would you be so kind and do the honours?” He teased and opened his hands in his lap. Motioning you to bring your feet to his lap so he can rub them. You lit the joint and took your first pull. “So, how was your day?” He asked and listened intently, as always. He leaned back in his seat, resting his head. The way the moon lit the outlines of his features, made him look angelic. His eyes were focused on you as his hands rubbed your feet. You told him about work and university drama and he contributed with facial expressions and giggling with you.

“Girl.” You’d say in one tone.

“Girl.” He’d say in another.

You both passed the joint between you both and talked about your day. The conversation flowed from, life to movies to music and then you both fell in a comfortable silence. Looking at the bright, silver moon reflecting on the water whilst Mark continued to rub your feet. His touch was innocent and gentle. You felt his gaze slowly shift from the water to you and your face felt hot. You wanted to turn your face and catch his big beautiful eyes but you felt so shy. Not knowing what your feelings for him meant, made your heart beat faster.

“Hey” He whispered, “look at me.” Sincerity in his voice left chills down your back.

“I’m really glad I met you. You’re my guy, my dude.” He said and you chuckled, turning your face to look at him.

“I’m really glad I met you too... dude.” You stuck out your pinky finger and Mark already knew the cue. He took your finger into his pinky and transitioned into a handshake. A month ago, Mark started giving you a little extra in the bags and he made you pinky promise not to tell anyone or that it would ruin his “street cred.” So you both came up with a handshake shared between just the two of you. That’s how life had started to feel for the past couple weeks. An inside joke shared between two souls. Were you falling for him?

“Alright!” He propped as you retrieved your feet back into your slides. “Let’s get you home, bab- dUDE” Mark panicked and cleared his throat. You opened your mouth to speak but he turned the volume of the music up and started driving once again.

“See I woke up having a bad dayy.. And I gotta get the dollar any fast way..”

He sang along to Way Back Home by Cordae and you took it as a prompt to not mention his slip up. So you sang along with him. Rolling down the window, the breeze felt nice on your skin. The warm yellow street lights lit up the blue atmosphere and it made everything feel like a Van Gogh painting. You couldn’t figure out if you had always seen life from such a romantic lens or was it just recently starting to feel more pink and purple. You looked at Mark, once again, taking in his features. Eyes trailing from his messy black hair, to his glasses, his Adam’s apple and how much you wanted to place a kiss on it to see his reaction. Your stare landed at his lips and you felt your own mouth slightly part. You thought about how his lips would feel pressed against yours in urgency. How his mouth would taste, if he would use his tongue straight away or wait a little? Would the kiss be rushed or would he take his time? Your mind went in loops and you swallowed as you felt yourself salivate at the thought. Shit. Maybe, you do like him.

Before you knew it, you were pulled outside your house once again but not a single atom in your body wanted to leave Mark. He turned to you again, smiling and opened the dashboard. Pulling out a package, he handed it to you. “Here you are.. and there’s a lil something extra. just like always but shh.” He handed you an A5 sized package. It was bigger than the usual extra but you decided to not question it. “Ok so, this is Strawberry Sorbet. I think you’re gonna like it. It’s gonna help your cramps and give you tingly feelings.. you know the kind you get when you see me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smack on the arm from you. He chucked, before continuing. “Nah but forreal, it’s really smooth as well. It’s a hybrid and kinda has like uhh.. a sweet candy-like flavour.. and DUDE. It slows down time SO much, its crazy. But uhm.. yeah, I hope you enjoy it.” He scratched the back of his head, realising that he might be talking too much but he relaxed when his eyes met your eyes, which were only focused on him. What was in the air tonight?

“Ugh dude, thank you so much. You are the best. Please let me know when you get home.” You gave him another hug, this time a bit shy-er than the first one. You felt your cheeks feel hot as Mark put his arms around you and give you a slight squeeze.

“Please, the streets should be scared that I’m not home yet.” He joked which made you roll your eyes.

“I’m being serious, Mark. Text me, okay?” You get out the car and lean in through the passenger window.

“Yes boss.” He raised his eye brow and smiled, playfully flirting with you.

“Okay, good.” And with that, he drove off. ________________________________________________________________________________

Dropping your keys in the bowl near your entrance, you walked back into your much warmer apartment, compared to the outside. You made your way to your bedroom and plopped yourself on the bed.

Wondering why the package is so big, you carefully opened it with excitement. You saw that he had your usual baggie in there but also a piece of paper. Confused, you pulled out the paper first, disregarding the weed. You hand flew to your mouth and you gasped, looking at the paper. Mark had drew an illustration of you with his copic markers. You always knew Mark was this skater guy, who liked to tag places with this friends but you never knew that he drew like this. You felt your stomach in knots as heat rose from your core, up to your cheeks, covering your entire face.

This. Fucking. Guy.

You thought to yourself and smiled. Your eyes trailed further along the paper to find a couple lines at the bottom, comparing you to a summer’s day with Mark’s own twist on it. “Nerd” You whispered to yourself, giggling. You felt your phone buzz and you jumped to pick it up. ____________________________________________

Mark 10:05 pm

home. the streets are safe now.

Y/N 10:05 pm

*attached pic* excuse me? what is thissssss?

Mark 10:06 pm

Looool Idk what you talking about :)

Y/N 10:06 pm

you nerd. I never knew you drew so well.

Mark 10:06 pm

you like it? hahaha

Y/N 10:06 pm

I love it

Y/N 10:07 pm

the poem too? where have you been hiding all this talent?

Mark 10:09 pm

shhh.

Mark 10:09 pm

It make you smile?

Y/N 10:09 pm

Yes....

Mark 10:10 pm

good.

____________________________________________

Throwing your phone, on the bed you fell back into your pillows and squealed into your hands like a love struck teenager. Ok. You definitely have feelings for him.

That night, neither of you could sleep. Mark felt nervous about his bold move and you felt giddy about your feelings. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a phone call.

“Sorry, who’s this?” You answer the phone jokingly.

“Ha Ha, very funny, asshole.” Mark dead panned, making you laugh. “Why you still up?” He asked softly.

“Dunno..”

“You can’t sleep either huh?” You could hear him smile through the phone and you bit your lip.

“So.. uhh.. you really like the drawing?”

“Dude, I love it. How do you know my face so well?” You exclaimed.

“Uhhmm.. I guess, I just know your face.. It’s a nice face.” Mark was being coy, yet again.

“Oh” You felt the shy spread from the phone and into you.

“I uh.. like your face.. I.. think uhm.. I.. like you” He mumbled, almost incoherently but you caught it. You both held your breath in anticipation of your reaction. You could feel your heart in your ears and your smile so wide, your cheeks started to hurt.

“You like me?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“I guess, you’re okay too Mark.” You teased him playfully.

“Woooow” He acted fake hurt.

“Come say it to my face, if you not pussy.” You suddenly felt a wave of confidence take over you.

“Oh yeah? Bet. Be there in 15.” And before you could tell him you’re joking, he hung up the phone.

____________________________________________

Mark showed up at your door in exactly 15 minutes. You opened the door, staggering a little from being nervous. “Hi” You said with a smile.

“Hi” he walked in and you both stood there, in awkward silence. Not knowing what to say or how to stand, you both felt super nervous.

“You wanna uh.. go sit on the sofa?” You offered, walking over to the living room and Mark followed. You both sat comically far from each other, with body language stiff. Looking around the room, you tried to find something to make small talk about. As you opened your mouth to speak, so did Mark and you both cut each other off. The awkwardness was killing you. You both laughed a little.

“You go” You turn to finally face him.

“I was just gonna say um.. if you wanted to try the strain I got for you today.. but urm I mean.. we don’t have to.. only if you want to.. you know, whatever is cool with me” Mark rambled on as you nodded and got up to get the baggie.

Walking back in to the living room, he looked up at you. Eyeing you in your shorts and a baggy t- shirt. “And come sit next to me.” He patted his hand beside him and you sunk into the sofa.

Mark put his arm around you and used his other hand to lift up your chin to look at him. His eyes were soft yet intense. You had never seen this look in his face before and it made you feel dizzy.

“Hey you..” He smiled.

Mark wasted no time before taking your lips into his. All the air came out of your lungs and you melted into his touch. His lips were soft and tasted like strawberry candy. He moved his lips against yours, painfully slow before pulling back to look at you. “Hi” He pecked your lips and smiled. Leaning his head to the other side, he kissed you again, this time, a little harder. His hand moved from under your chin, to under your ear as he held your face and traced his tongue against your mouth. You opened your mouth some more, letting out a sigh into his mouth which went straight to his dick and he pushed his tongue in further, deepening the kiss. You both got lost in the kiss for a while there before pulling away and smiling at one another as if you’re already high. Even though, your lips were now disconnected. Your eyes stayed fixed on one another.

“You have really long lashes..” You said matter of factly, making Mark laugh.

“And you like me back” Nothing could stop you both from smiling like idiots at one another. It felt as if, nothing else mattered in this moment.

“I do.. I do...” You left another peck, not being able to get enough of him. Mark pulled his arm from over you to dig through his pocket. He pulled out the special pink papers and handed them to you to roll one.

____________________________________________

The room felt like it was slowly spinning into you, a vortex of your feelings towards mark floated around you and time came to a halt. Your heart grew ten sizes that night, beating outside of your being, covering the entire room. You wanted to absorb him into your heart. The only way to express this to him was to have him inside you. Thinking about it, you felt your underwear pool and you moaned into Mark’s mouth. He squeezed your thigh tighter as a response, which brought you back to this room. On this sofa. On his lap. Tongue in his mouth. It was only then you realised, how time became warped from when you started smoking and Mark pulled you in for another kiss. Everything had been a blur since then. All you could focus on was how in such a short amount of time, this boy had become so dear to you.

Mark’s hands went to your ass to give it a handful squeeze and he got up picking you up with him. He pecked your lips once again.

“Hi baby” he smiled, taking in your features in awe.

“You okay?”

“Hi” you cheesed back at him, pecking his nose in response. “Of course.”

Mark carried you over to the bed and laid you down gently. Moving your hair out of your face, he hovered over you.

“God, you’re so beautiful” his ran his index finger along the side of your cheek.

“From the day I met you dude, I knew I was gonna like you.” He kissed you all over your face, filling the space with your giggles.

“Gonna make you my girl.” His lips, once again, crashed down into yours and he settled between your legs. You could feel him on your thigh and it drove you crazy. Adding to your arousal, he slowly grinded into you. He held your waist, before slipping his hands inside your shirt and squeezed one of your breast, lighting pinching your nipples in between his fingers. You swore you could’ve came right then. He lifted your t-shirt up to admire your body further. His eyes hung low from the weed and his mouth slightly parted. He smiled.

“Dang! They are so beautiful. Nice to meet you.” He left kisses along your breast, making you giggle and feel more comfortable.

Mid-giggle, your breath got caught in your throat when Mark licked a stripe between your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth. The shock made you arch your back and run your fingers through his hair before grabbing it. You let out a moan and felt Mark smirk against your skin.

Working his way down to your body, he took your shorts off. Coming face to face with your absolutely dampened underwear, Mark’s light hearted expression changed.

“Your panties.. are ruined” His voice, barely a whisper.

You felt a shift in the atmosphere. The air became heavy and thick with lust. You felt yourself clench around nothing when Mark pressed his thumb into your heat to check if this was real life. His eyes a little wider, and breath heavier. Mark wasted no time as he used his index finger to slide your panties to the side.

“Oh hi” his voice cracked a little, indicating that he was trying very hard to keep things light- hearted but his head was also spinning from the lust. He needed you.

“Baby?” He looked up at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Yeah?” You asked, rubbing head lovingly.

“Can I eat it baby?”

All you could do was nod and Mark didn’t need to be told twice. He dove right in with his tongue, kissing your pussy all over. He settled on the clit, making you move your thighs on his shoulders.

Mark took that as a sign to grab you harder and he moved his face in a zig-zag motion in your pussy. With every moan, Mark moaned with you.

“Mm?”

“Does it feel good?”

He was absorbed in the act and it was now his turn to feel a vortex of his feelings slowly fade into him, from outside of him. The vibrations from his moan were only sending you over the edge and then he slipped his fingers inside you. You grabbed his hair again, letting him know he’s doing good. Mark was so focused, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open. He was studying your reactions to the different movements of his fingers. His eyes going from your face to your pussy and how it was sucking in his fingers. Mark felt entranced.

He was aching inside his sweats as he felt you cum on his tongue. Legs shaking around his head, hands grabbing at his hair for some sort of support. He took his other hand to find yours and interlocked his fingers with yours. Even though, you had came. Mark did not take a second to let you catch your breath as he carried on, making you cum twice more. He felt like he could’ve stayed in there forever. He was drunk of your taste and smell. Time was still warped for the both of you. It ceased to exist.

And when Mark was finally inside you. Both of you felt as though you have sunken into a cloud. With each thrust, you kept sinking, deeper and deeper. Going lower, and lower. The room was filled with your moans and the sound of how wet you were. You don’t think you legs ever stopped shaking from he first time, they had done that. “Oh my god, you feel so good.” Mark managed to get some words out, after a long time of scrunched up faces and moans. Mark felt like he was losing his mind. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw stars. You wrapped your legs around him and his movement staggered. “Wait.. wait.. you gonna make me cum like this.. turn over for me.” He placed a kiss on your cheek.

Now laying on your stomach, Mark slid into you once again. Immediately, realising that changing positions might have made things worse when he felt your ass cushion his thrusts, he fell onto your back and lightly bit your shoulder. Mark pounded into you with force, accepting his fate of climaxing very soon. His hand snaked onto your throat as he guided your head back so he could kiss you again. He lightly squeezed your throat as he pounded into you. Moans and curse words flew from both of your mouths and you felt him throb inside you. The movement, hitting your spot perfectly, made your legs shake once last time as you came around him and you swore Mark almost growled in your ear.

“Baby.. you’re pu..pushing me out.. ugh.. feels..s o.. good.” It wasn’t long before, he also came to his climax and pulled out, finishing all over your ass.

He collapsed on the side next to you as you both caught your breath and settled into giddy giggles again. “That felt like 10 years and 2 seconds, all at the same time.” You say, out of breath.

You were both so infatuated with one another. It was disgusting.

“Lemme get you a towel babe.” Mark groaned before getting up and walking over to the bathroom.

You admired his naked frame from the back. His muscly back and toned ass. He was sculpted by the gods and you just had this man moaning into your mouth. The thought of that made your core tingle again, confirming that this was only the first round of tonight.

“So.. Shakespeare, huh?” You called out to Mark from the bed, referring to his poem.

“Oh, he is the OG man.” You heard the water shut and he shouted back.

Walking back into the room in all his glory, now from the front. You admired him. “If you’re good, I’ll show you my stuff sometime.” He sank onto the bed and wiped your butt with the warm towel.

#mark lee x fem reader #mark lee #mark lee fanfic #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee fluff #mark lee smut #nct #GUYS THIS MADE ME GET IN MY FEELINGS SM #IDK IF IT WILL GET U GUYS IN UR FEELINGS TOO COS IDK WHAT UR STYLE OF ROMANCE IS BUT THIS HAS GIVEN BRAIN ROT #i hope u enjoy??!!

1K notes · View notes

buzzingroyalty · 8 months

Text

timeline in which aziraphale is in fact tasked with raising a new baby jesus in an orphanage run entirely by angels so there are no shenanigans nor interferences but the supreme archangel insists they hire at least one human who actually knows how to raise human children. a "human" eventually shows up. Jesus 2 is named Lucy <3

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #fem crowley #fem aziraphale #first interaction heavily inspired by that post describing aziraphale showing up at crowleys door looking like hed just run a marathon w/ b #i dont think this is actually how the second coming is gonna work but its too late lucy is already bouncing around in my head #good omens got me acting unwise and thinking abt co parenting old woman yuri bible fanfic #melisongart #i dont love how this looks i still gotta figure out how to draw them #but take it

576 notes · View notes

wenigstenshabeichesversucht · 3 months

Text

You've made your bed, now lie in it

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: 3 times you and Lockwood have to share a bed, and one time you want to share a bed.

Warnings: one bed trope, fake dating trope, fluff, only kissing, no smut, english is not my native language

Word Count: 3.9k

After a longer break I'm finally back. Enjoy!

The first time you and Lockwood, an insolent prick of a boss, had to share a bed, was comparable to a train wreck. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. This was how you felt, when you stared at the way too small bed in front of you. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And even if you could, where did you want to look? At the face of your far too handsome boss, hell no! Or at the floor, which was so dirty, that you were sure, that nobody cleaned it for at least a year? No, not happening.

“I will not sleep on the floor”, you stated without removing your eyes from the bed.

“Me neither!”

Hearing his voice made you seethe. Maybe he was your boss, but he wasn’t your friend. George and Lucy were your friends, but never him.

“You booked this flop house!”, you protested.

You had a mission two hours away from London, which required you to stay for two days. Luck wasn't on your side when Lucy and George got sick four days ago, leaving only you and Lockwood to drive up here.

“But I’m the boss, so I will not sleep on the floor.”

What would you give for the opportunity to get rid of him right now? But you were too tired to kill him, you just wanted to sleep.

“Fine, then we will share”, you bit out, ready to bite off his head.

“Fine”, he shouted back, but if you weren't mistaken, his voice sounded a bit hoarse.

Far too late, you realize what you had agreed on. You wanted to curse, but you kept your mouth shut. It was far too late to back down. He would never let you live that down. So, you had no chance. Turning your back on him, you went to your bag and took off your sweater.

“What are you doing”, the panic in his voice brought a smile to your lips.

“Getting ready for bed, what else does it look like?”

Not wanting to give the poor boy a heart attack, you put on a shirt, before unclasping your bra. Behind you, you could hear Lockwood taking a sharp breath. But you couldn’t care less. Never would you put yourself through a painful night in a bra. Opening the button of your jeans was the last straw.

“I’m going to the bathroom”, rushing past you, Lockwood loudly slammed the door shut behind him. You couldn’t help but smile, maybe you had to share a bed, but you totally won this round.

When you left the bathroom, after brushing your teeth, your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw your boss, who had already made himself comfortable on the bed.

“Where is your shirt?”

Was this his revenge for the bra? Would the entire night be psychological warfare? Not that you weren’t ready. You were ready since you stepped your first foot into Portland Row and realized, that your new boss was a jerk.

“I always sleep like this.”

Your eyes narrowed, not sure if that was a lie or the truth.

“Don’t come crying to me, if you’re too cold this night.” With these words, you slipped into bed next to him.

“I will not be cold”, he protested, and you doubted it. The room was fucking cold, you weren’t even sure if the heater was working. But you were too tired to argue with Lockwood about this, what didn’t mean, that you weren’t ready to tell him “I told you so”, when he would admit it.

“Touch me and I will kill you”, you threatened before turning off the light. Next to you, Lockwood let out a humorless laugh, which shacked the whole bed.

“Trust me, I have the same desire to touch you as I do to touch a ghost.”

“Great, we sorted that out“, you snapped back, unable to let him have the last word.

For a moment there was only silence, broken only by rustling as you both tried to find a comfortable sleeping position. Which was harder than it sounded like. The bed was way too small, and you would rather die than to cuddle with Anthony fucking Lockwood. His body was only inches away from yours, and you could feel the heat he was radiating.

“Stop hogging the blanket”, hissed Lockwood, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Maybe you wouldn’t need it, if you would wear a shirt like a normal person”, you spew back.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward”, you didn’t know what was coming over you. You didn't know what made you say those words, but in the future, you would blame it on being tired.

Lockwood didn't need to be told twice. Hungrily, his lips crashed against yours and with all your anger you kissed him back, while clawing your nails in his naked shoulder. This wasn’t how you had imagined your first kiss with Lockwood. You always thought it would be sweet and slow, not raw and angry.

“I hate you so much”, you whispered against his lips, and Lockwood let out a chuckle.

“Believe me, I hate you more.”

You woke up to the sunbeams dancing on your nose. It was much warmer, than the night before, maybe the heater, had started to work overnight. This thought vanished, when you realized, that the heat was coming from your pillow, or better speaking the body you used as pillow. Suppressing a scream, you hastily tried to get away, only to back up a little too far and therefore to fall out of the small bed. You came up with a hard thud that woke up Lockwood.

“Y/N?”, sleepily Lockwood looked over the edge of the bed, and you suddenly remembered what you had done last night. A blushed creeped up your face, while you thought about the kisses you shared. At least you stopped, before it escalated. You could never forgive yourself and your morals if you had slept with Anthony Lockwood, you hated this arrogant prick.

“Are you in such a hurry to get away from me?”, running his finger through his swoon worthy hair, he gave you one of those arrogant smiles you hated so much. Seeing this, you wanted to wrap your fingers around his neck and just squeeze. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying that you were throwing yourself at him. So, you just glared up at him.

“Yes, I want to get as far as possible away from you, and I think we'd be doing both of us a favor if we forgot what happened last night and never talked about it again.”

For a moment, Lockwood looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't pure hate, at least not just.

“Last night was a mistake.”

Even if it was your idea to forget everything about last night, it hurt to hear him calling it a mistake. However, you would never give him the satisfaction of showing him that.

“At least we agree on one thing.”

The second time you and Lockwood shared a bed was nothing more than a mistake. It was shortly before Christmas, Lucy already left Portland Row to take a train to one of her sisters and George was already by his family. You had the choice between spending Christmas with your family or with Lockwood at Portland Row. It was like choosing between Scylla and Charybdis. But before you could make up your mind, Lockwood felt ill, and you weren’t the heartless bitch, he made you out to be. You didn’t want him to die, even if you often said it. But you needed this job and without Lockwood there wasn’t an agency. Therefore, you decided to stay and care about him, so he didn’t catch a pneumonia and died a painful dead, even if he deserved it.

It was all going as well as you could expect it. Lockwood was too ill to fight with you, and you only wished for his dead once or twice a day, so far less than normal. Everything was going well, till you started to fell sick. Of course, this idiot couldn’t keep his germs to himself.

You were shacking from the cold you couldn’t escape, as you went up to his room, to bring him his dinner. Normally you tried to do this as fast as possible, in and out, before he even had the chance to say anything to you. So, you didn’t have to see him longer than needed, and he didn’t have to see you longer than needed. Nothing had changed since the night you shared a bed and kisses. You still hated each other with burning passion. But this time as you stepped foot into enemy territory, aka Lockwood’s room, you realized that this was right now the warmest room in the whole house. Setting down the tray, you carefully took a seat on the only free space in his room, the edge of his bed. You wouldn’t stay long, you told yourself. Just long enough to drive the cold from your bones.

“You’re looking worse than usual, I didn’t know it was possible”, Lockwood’s annoying voice, broke your peace.

“Says the person who looks like a walking corpse”, you bite back.

“You got sick.”

“No, I’m fine.”

You didn't know who you were trying to convince with this lie. Anyone with eyes in their head could see that you weren't feeling well. However, Lockwood was too exhausted to argue with you. He just started to eat his dinner, while you closed your eyes to find the strength to stand up and leave this warm behind you.

The next time you opened your eyes, you weren’t sitting on the edge of Lockwood’s bed, you were lying in it. You weren’t sure, how it happened, but you were sure it was just an honest mistake, which could happen to everyone. Feeling too sick to panic, all you could just concentrate on was that you were finally warm. You managed to successfully ignore Lockwood's arm over your hip and his steady breathing on your neck. This was a problem you would deal with when you felt not like dying any minute. Closing your eyes for a second time, you drifted away.

The first thing you realized, when you woke up the next morning was, that Lockwood’s warm was missing. He had sneaked out of his own bed, while you were still sleeping. So, this was the perfect chance for you to sneak away to not have to face Lockwood after accidentally falling asleep in his bed. But you couldn’t muster the strength to move. You could just lay there and wait for your doom, aka that Lockwood returned.

It didn’t take long for him to come back. In his hands, he held the tray you used the last days to bring him food.

“I brought you breakfast”, giving you the tray, he got in the bed beside you. If someone had told you, that you would spend Christmas eating breakfast with Lockwood in his bed, you would have laughed and called the person delusional. But here you were. Neither of you had the energy to argue, so you both just ate in silence.

“You should try to get more rest”, Lockwood told you, after both of you finished eating, and he was right, not that you would ever say this out loud.

“You too, you still look like shit”, maybe he was a little bit fitter than you, but he was worlds away from being healthy.

“Fine”, he bit back, another sign, that he was everything but healthy. Normally he would have said something mean in response, but he just laid down beside you. For a moment, nobody said something. Then you shuffled a little bit in his direction, attracted by the warmth he radiated. He acknowledged this with raised eyebrows.

“I’m just cold, don't imagine anything about it.”

“I would never!”

The rest of the holidays you spent together in his bed. It was a surprise for both of you, that at the end, when you both felt better, no one had torn off the other’s head.

When Lucy and George came back and asked how your holidays were, you both just shrugged. What really happened was probably a secret that you both would take to your grave. You quickly found back in your everyday life of hating each other, and it was almost as if none of this had ever happened. But only almost.

The third time you had to share a bed with Lockwood would have been avoidable if Lucy had been a little bit more cooperative.

Lockwood and Co. had a new, very lucrative case. You were hired to secure a very dangerous source. The catch was, that the owner was one of those weirdos who was a little too enthusiastic about the occult. He was planning a two-day seance with an overnight stay at his manor, and your client had managed to get you an invitation. The only problem was that the invitation was for one guest and a plus-one. There was no question that Lockwood would go. But your team couldn't agree on who would accompany him. George wasn’t an option, that would bring too much attention. That only left you and Lucy.

“We all know that I’m a bad liar, nobody would believe me, that I’m Lockwood’s girlfriend”, Lucy stated. Normally you loved Lucy, she was your best friend. But right now, you could have punched her.

“As if anyone would think I was dating Lockwood”, you countered and directed to the asshole himself, you said: “I would never date someone like you.”

“And I would never date someone like you”, he fired back, and you didn’t have to look at Lucy and George to see them rolling their eyes, like always when Lockwood and you decided to argue.

“With the sexual tension between you, no one will doubt that you are dating”, Lucy butted in and could be glad, that looks didn’t kill otherwise she would be six feet under.

“There is no sexual tension, only hate”, you argued hotly.

You would never admit that there was maybe sexual tension, because if you would, you would think about it, you would think about the kisses in this one fatal night and that was a way, you didn’t want to go. Because if you would go down this path, there was no return to normal. Therefore, it was way easier to tell yourself and anybody else, that you hated Anthony J. Lockwood with burning passion.

“But Lucy is right, Y/N should join Lockwood”, George the little backstabber joined Lucy’s side. Knowing when a fight was lost, you ran your hand over your face.

“This can only go wrong.”

You should be right. You weren’t even an hour at the manor, and you hated everything. The weirdos got on your nerves with their own stupidity. Lockwood's arm had been around your waist for almost 43 minutes, and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off and hit him with it to dead. Yeah, you were everything than happy. I didn’t help, that Lockwood had decided that fake girlfriend wasn’t fancy enough and had given you an engagement ring before he introduced you to everyone as his fiancée. You were dead and in hell, otherwise you couldn’t explain, how you landed in this situation. At least the ring was pretty.

“We should sneak away and look for the source”, you whispered, only loud enough for him barely to hear you. Slowly, Lockwood nodded to let you know that he heard you. Calculating, he let his gaze wander about the other people in the room, probably to find the best way to disappear unnoticed.

“We should kiss”, he said after a moment, and somehow managed to seem totally serious.

“What?”, you almost choked from sheer surprise.

“If we make out, no one will be surprised if we disappear, everyone will just think that we were looking for a quiet corner to have a little fun.”

Hearing this, you grimaced. But he wasn’t wrong. Nobody would think much about you sneaking off when you first put on a show. Without a verbal response, you grabbed Lockwood by his tie and pulled him down to your height. Hungrily, you caught his lips with yours. Lockwood didn’t waste any time and pulled your body against his. Eagerly his hands roamed over your body, and you had the feeling, that this meant a little bit more to both of you, than just a show for a case. Not that you would ever admit it.

When your lungs were screaming for air, you reluctantly broke the kiss.

“You’re actually a really good kisser”, Lockwood smiled down at you, and it felt like your stomach was riding a rollercoaster.

“You’re actually very average”, you lied like the liar you were. But the truth was, there was nothing you would like more than to kiss him again.

“Like, you have kissed so many guys to know what average is. Feel free to admit it, I’m a good kisser.”

Seeing his arrogant smile, you just rolled your eyes.

“Let’s go, so we didn’t kiss for nothing!”

Together you walked through the manor, till you found the library, your first guess for the location of the source. You just started to look around when you heard steps coming in your direction. Before you could find a good hiding space, the door opened and nobody else than the owner of the manor, the weirdo you wanted to steal from, was standing there.

“Miss, did you get lost? The library is not open for the guest”, he told you, and you tried your best innocent smile. But Lockwood appeared beside you before you could try to lie your way out of it.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. My fiancée and I were just trying to find a quiet room”, he gave the owner his best Lockwood smile, while his arms found again his way around your hip.

“Then I would suggest trying the bedroom assigned to you.”

Under his caution eyes, you and Lockwood walked out of the library.

“I saw the source”, Lockwood whispered in your ear, at the moment the door closed behind you.

“Did you take it?”

“No, didn’t have the chance, but we can do it tomorrow, right now we should return to our bedroom, or do you want to socialize a little bit more with the other guest?” Hell no!

“Let’s go.”

Of course, your bedroom had only one bed. At least it was big. You and Lockwood could both sleep in it without touching each other. Without saying much and more important without arguing, you both got ready for bed. Of course, Lockwood decided against wearing a shirt.

“I hope one night you will freeze to death”, you mumbled while slipping under the blanket.

“I’m too hot for this and considering how you always cuddle up to me at night, you know it too.”

Rarely, you were lost for words, but this was one of these moments.

“Keep dreaming, Lockwood”, you shot back, but both of you knew that this was a lame response. As a reaction, Lockwood just gave you a cocky grin.

“We'll see that tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, we will.”

You firmly resolved to keep a lot of distance from Lockwood and his tempting warmth that night.

But waking up the next morning, you realized that you could even break the best resolutions. Like this one. Lockwood was like a mobile heater, and that was too tempting for you when you were sleeping. This night was no difference. As you had been asleep, you had cuddled yourself in Lockwood’s side, and he had draped an arm around you, to pull you even further against him.

With a bright red face, you tried to free yourself from his hug. But your movement woke him up.

“Look like I was right, I’m hot, and you know it”, sleepy, he smiled up at you.

Torn back and forth, you closed and opened your mouth. You weren’t sure if you should kiss him or choke him till he died. You did neither.

“Or maybe you are just so touch starved that you can’t help but hold me in your sleep”, you countered.

“Maybe, but who could blame me?”

Too stunned to speak, you just stared at him. Was he flirting with you? Or were you just hallucinating? It must be the second. Maybe you were still dreaming.

“It feels really nice to hold you in my arms.”

“But aren’t we hating each other?”, a bit overwhelmed, you ran your hand through your hair. You were here to steal a source, not to talk abut feeling with Lockwood, you weren’t prepared for this.

“I never hated you, and I think you also don’t hate me.”

That was a bold statement, but maybe it was the truth. You weren’t sure what you felt for Lockwood. He had been an asshole to you from day one. And you hadn’t been better. Since the beginning, he had something that you just wanted to kiss or kill him. Because you were an insecure mess, you had decided to be mean to him rather than get hurt by him.

“But why were you such an asshole?”, you asked, curious.

“Because you let me something feel, I don’t like. In your presence, I feel so giddy and nervous, not like the agency head I should be.”

“We are such idiots. You are an idiot, but maybe I’m the biggest idiot of all. Seeing your face let me feel stronger emotions than I ever felt before, and I’m not sure if I want to kill or kiss you for it.”

“Then kiss me.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You kissed him like you always wanted to be kissed, like nothing in the world mattered to you beside him. And maybe this was true, the first thing you thought about was normally him and the last thing which crossed your mind before falling asleep was his dorky smile. You loved him, and you were an idiot, that it took you so long to realize it.

The first time you wanted to share a bed with Lockwood was after you and him returned successfully from your mission. You stole the source without getting caught, and after you told Lucy and George how you did it, you were sitting in the living room. Lucy and George already went to bed and you both were peacefully silent. The only sound was the cracking of the logs in the fireplace, while Lockwood played softly with your hand in his. You were still wearing the ring he had given you. You had wanted to give it back to him, but he insisted that you keep it.

“Do you need a personal heater this night?”, Lockwood broke the silence, and you gave him a bashful smile.

“Maybe?”

“Are my eyes deceiving me or is that a smile, my love?”

“Oh, shut up.”

You were still laughing when Lockwood pulled you up from the sofa. Hand in hand, you walked up the stairs to his bedroom and for the first time in your life, you wanted to share a bed with him. So, this was what you did. Slipping under the blanked with him, you let him pull yourself in his arms. With your head laying on his naked chest and a happy smile, you slowly drifted away.

#anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #lockwood & co fanfic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood netflix #fanfic #lockwood x reader #anthony bloody lockwood

240 notes · View notes

ace-sher-bi-john · 4 months

Text

While I absolutely love both BBC Sherlock and Sherlock & Co, Sherlock & Co definitely depicts a more healthy relationship between Sherlock and John.

For starters, on BBC Sherlock, Sherlock and John are both co-dependent on each other. John was implied to be suicidal before he met Sherlock. Sherlock relapses without John by his side. Even with Mary to substitute the void in his heart and help him find purpose again, John would never move on from Sherlock. If anything happened to John, it wouldn't end well for anyone, especially Sherlock.

On Sherlock & Co, one of John's only problems after returning home from Ukraine was that he couldn't afford a flat on his own. He seemed to be very excited about life, going on dates, couldn't wait to start his podcast. He was genuinely happy to see Mike.

Sherlock could easily manage on his own without John. He doesn't need to be reminded to eat, he doesn't need an assistant for cases, he doesn't need someone to take care of him. His only problem is that he needs a flatmate.

Although John and Sherlock both need each other to afford rent, they don't need each other for anything else. They want each other's company, they don't need it. They aren't two halves of a whole, they are two wholes coming together. That's how it should be with all healthy relationships, platonic, romantic, queerplatonic, or otherwise.

It also helps a lot that Sherlock isn't a complete jerk on Sherlock & Co. He genuinely treats John and everyone else with a kindness that while I believe BBC Sherlock is capable of it, he rarely showed it. When John's PTSD is triggered, Sherlock asks John if he'd rather sit out that case. He then asks John if he wants to hold hands and discuss his feelings. In part one of the Blue Carbuncle, Sherlock complimented, actually complimented John. That kind of scene just never happened on BBC Sherlock. John was doing his "That was fantastic! You're amazing!" and Sherlock said, "You flatter me, Watson. But you did awesome too! You should have seen the way you did that! It was brilliant!"

John seems like a much more well rounded happy person in general. Just listen to any of his viewer discretion warnings. "Greetings you handsome devil! This episode will contain a bit of the old swearing, a bit of violence, some drug use. Oh and a bit of duck poo!" I hate to make this comparison, due to how much it will sound like an insult. But he acts like the quirky Disney Princess personality that every Disney Princess from the 2010s has and I mean that in the best possible way. It's my favorite thing about him. He's so adorable.

In the Blue Carbuncle, John has a moment similar to ones that you've seen many times before on BBC Sherlock. John has plans that mean he won't be able to help with the case. He is going to Berlin to spend Christmas with his old army friends. It's going to be his first boys' trip in years. But then he gets so sucked into the case that he's almost late for his plane and decides to just stay with Sherlock anyway because the case is just so fascinating he can't leave. On BBC Sherlock, John has abandoned his plans, his job, his girlfriends, for a case because he couldn't stand to be without Sherlock for so long. Also because Sherlock would often crash is dates, ruin his relationships, just so that John could assist him on cases. On Sherlock & Co, Sherlock was happy for John that he was going out with friends, even though it would mean spending the holidays alone. And Sherlock LOVES Christmas, so it's sad to think that he would have to spend it alone.

Where BBC Sherlock would manipulate or guilt John into staying, Sherlock & Co Sherlock let John go and was genuinely fine with going it alone for a week or two, even if it meant being all alone on Christmas.

I love BBC Sherlock, toxic co-dependent relationships and all, and I always will. But Sherlock & Co gives a little something different and I am happy that my boys are happier.

SH: *laughing* What's so funny Watson? JW: *laughing* It's just hearing you say "bell end" SH: Lovely and jubbly

#sherlock & co #bbc sherlock #i genuinely love both #this isn't me complaining #this is just something i love about sherlock & co #as much as i hate co-dependent relationships and how toxic they are #i love bbc sherlock's johnlock portrayed as one in fanfics #but sherlock & co's johnlock is already so healthy and non-toxic #i love it almost a little bit more #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock

352 notes · View notes

itripandfallalot · 3 months

Text

So the wonderful @martii-art had some amazing art of Lockwood, and I reached out to see if they might be able to create something for one of my fics, and they did!! I love it! In case you're curious what fic, it's this one -

Seriously go check @martii-art out - INCREDIBLE WORK!!

#lockwood and co #locklyle #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #fanart #fanfic

258 notes · View notes

lewkwoodnco · 2 months

Text

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day."

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes.

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?"

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face.

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that."

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.”

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope.

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #fanfiction #fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #valentines day #fluff

208 notes · View notes