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haravath0t · 3 years

Text

Maybe It’s Time

Pairing: a bit of Steve x Reader, but leaning towards Bucky x Reader in the end

Warning: angst, fluff in the end! Feelings...

A/N: So... another comfort fic... gotta thank @world-of-aus for helping me on this one! Bucket, thank you for literally being a real one and helping me through it all! I owe you so much girl! It’s been a hard one for me as of late folks, so this one kinda feels like a comfort fic to me personally. Kinda out of the blue, but as always, writing seems to be my escape. So for all who are going through something, I hope you know I am here for you and I am willing to lend an ear for you guys! I hope you all seek a bit of comfort through this one shot! Enjoy!

Bucky’s eyes gently opened, hearing something coming from the other room. Something that has to have become a regular thing for him now for a long while. Your piano playing.

He recognized this piece more than ever: Debussy’s Clair de Lune.

He sat up gently on the edge of the bed, grunting softly while Alpine softly purred as she stirred herself awake. It was raining; a soft pitter patter of the rain falling against the glass windows accompanied with your soft playing would have been enough to have kept him asleep, his nightmares slowly fading away and going into the wonderful dreams that he had once dreamt of. However, tonight’s playing was different, for the once playful, joyous, and thoughtful tunes coming from those black and white keys have been melancholic for quite a while. Too long of a while. Tonight, something within Bucky Barnes compelled him to do something different from these previous nights. Rather than admire your playing from afar, letting your emotions run wild by yourself, he’ll make his presence known.

Alpine meowed, watching her owner slowly put on his fuzzy slippers (courtesy of you) before she fell asleep. Bucky smiled sleepily, giving her one more pet before quietly making his way out of his room, and into the dark living room in your guys’ shared floor. The sight in front of him definitely reflected Clair de Lune: beautiful, yet filled with emotion, filled with sorrow. It hurt him even more to know just why you were hurting.

You were restless. You were critical. You tried, you fought, you pushed, you pulled.

Yet it was never enough.

At the end of the day, you got hurt. You were thrown away, rendered useless to someone who you loved deeply and passionately. Someone who you devoted yourself to, thinking they’d dedicate themselves in the same manner. You remember that day clearly, feelings still fresh from a year ago.

You were still wrapping your head around the fact that you were part of the half who disappeared in the blip. However, thoughts were brushed aside as he smiled softly at you as Bruce got everything ready, coming towards you as you returned the smile on your face. You wrapped your arms around him, your soft eyes looking at him with love and devotion, as it always had. “Be careful,” you whisper into his lips with a smile. “I will, Y/N… don’t you worry.” He says with a smile nuzzling his nose against yours. “I just wanna ensure your safety, for your sake,” You reply with a giggle. “My sake or yours?” He questions with a much bigger smile. “How about we settle with both?” You whisper, your giggles ringing in Steve’s ears. He couldn’t help the long and loving kiss that was shared between the both of you before he went off to the platform.

You watched your boyfriend, standing in his suit, Mjolnir in one hand and the case of the Infinity Stones in the other, standing in the middle of the platform with a determined look on his face. You smiled even more, for Steve Rogers, being himself, has managed to save the world once again with the Avengers. You smiled alongside Bucky and Sam who were watching him disappear out of sight. “And returning in 5… 4… 3… 2...1…” Bruce counts down, only for you three to see no one back on the platform. You began to worry. Did something go wrong? What happened? Is he okay?

Your mind was laden with panic and it wasn’t until you saw a figure sitting alongside the lake, shield propped up next to him. Confusion laced your worried features, but the two men knew. Sam talked to him as you looked on in shock, mind still connecting things together. You shook your head in denial as you saw a wedding ring on his finger. At that moment you knew.

You weren’t enough.

You slowly made your way, deciding to be strong, heart wrenching when you saw this once burly, blond man now with wrinkles, haggard, and with a wedding ring.

“Y/N,” he says, but you cut him off, forcing a smile on your face, forcing your tears to not fall down.

“N-no. It’s okay… I.. I get it… I’m.. I’m happy for you, Steve.”

You hated it. You hated having to have your hand held by him one last time, a squeeze of hands quietly speaking of the terms that you both are now on. You were never his. Never. Peggy remained his one and true love that beat time and space. And who were you to argue? She rightfully gained her place. Maybe it was time for you to accept the fact that there was no room for you in Steven Grant Rogers’ life.

But that didn’t stop the hurt that still clouds your mind and thoughts. The remembrance of the hurt and the deception on your side of the story was still fresh. The repeat of the memory merely adds salt to your still fresh wounds. It’s been inside you since then, the neverending ache courses through you. So you play. You play the grand piano and its keys with your heart out on your sleeve not caring for the sobs that leave your lips, hands gracefully touching the keys of the piano, a slow crescendo coming in as the feelings of hurt slowly grow. Your eyes stay shut as your left hand starts to move more and more, right hand playing chords and the sorrowful melody. By the time the climax of the song arrives, you are sobbing even more than before, body shaking as the pain takes on a more tangible form on your piano. Your head is swirling, your body feeling like it was going to float, you were so clouded in your mind, until a particular man with a metal arm sat quietly next to you, putting you back in your space, where you currently were.

However, you stopped dead in your tracks, embarrassed that your best friend had caught you in this particular moment, so your eyes try their hardest to remain on the keys. You already knew that his ocean blue ones were staring at you. His metal hand carefully rests upon your right hand, lightly interlocking his fingers with yours.

“I’m not over it either,” he whispers in your ear.

Again, you cry, turning your body slightly to cling to his figure. Cries slowly turn into sobs. Hugging Bucky for dear life, you said the things that have been in your head for so long.

“B-Buck.. Why did he leave?! Why?! And when we just came back?! Why Peggy, Buck?! What does she have that I don’t?! What has our time together meant to him?! Is it because I’m not as skinny as her?! Is she smarter than me? Is she funnier? More humorous? Is she kinder? Is she-”

Bucky felt the same way. He knew how you felt. He felt that way about the punk too. He wasn’t thinking of Captain America, but Steve. The little kid from Brooklyn, the same guy who had asthma, who put newspapers in his shoes, who hid an extra key under a brick. He felt like he lost his place too. However, he knew how you felt was just as bad. He understood you. It pained him to see you crying. Admittedly enough, he only hoped that you look beautiful in his eyes despite your sobs and tears. A literal angel, he’d think to himself. Unfortunate that he can’t teach his best friend a thing or two about taking care of his girl. You were in pain for so long.

His hands cupped your wet cheeks and slowly wiped the tears with his thumbs, a tiny smile when he feels you relax to his touch, kissing your forehead to further soothe you. “Steve doesn’t know what was in front of the whole time, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“He did… apparently I’m only a substitute till there was a way. That’s all I am to anyone. A substitute.”

“I never thought of you that way.” He admits quietly, so quietly, that only you both can hear, causing you to look up at him in surprise. “H-Huh? But…” “I said what I said, Y/N… I mean it. You were, are, and always will be such a sweet, kind, and beautiful dame. There’s no kind like you anywhere here, not even Peggy or anyone for that matter can replicate what you have sweetheart. So who cares who’s skinnier? Who cares if one is more funny? In the end of the day, we knew you did all you could. It hurts. I know. But, you’re gonna have that one guy who is gonna treat ya like no man ever could. I’ll make sure of that.” He whispers, looking at you dead in the eyes with understanding and love in his eyes. A small smile finally kisses your face. Not a fake one, but a small genuine one. One that only someone like James Buchanan Barnes would notice. “That’s my girl.” He whispers and smiles, hugging you once again.

He pulls away, starting to play the first few notes of Clair de Lune, eyes carefully watching yours, an invitation. You shyly joined in, allowing yourself to take your place and playing a part. You and James couldn’t help the smile that goes on your faces as it starts to progress. You watched as both his flesh and metal hand graced the keys effortlessly, nicely paired along with yours as they also graced the keys, completing this song’s melody. What was wreaking of pain and sorrow turned pensive, calming, even providing a form of resolution. You guys smiled as you both played your notes louder and louder the two of you effortlessly mirroring each other, no need to say the dynamic, the mood, the notes to play, it was all unplanned, yet it still sounded beautiful. A giggle leaves your mouth, another genuine one for the first time, which causes Bucky to smile big, happy to see you smiling again. He watches as your guys’ fingers glide through the keys, hands sometimes weaving in and out harmoniously, never causing extra struggle.

“Thank you, James… I really really feel better after all of that” you say softly, letting yourself nuzzle your face into his torso, hugging the super soldier tightly. “You always know what to say to me. You always know what to do. Always have. Thank you,” You whisper, smiling softly as the man tightens his hold on you. You both chuckled when a yawn now leaves your lips, resulting in Bucky scooping you up bridal style. “Not a problem, sweetheart. I’m always gonna be here. M’not going anywhere I promise.” He says softly, yet in a determined tone. He vowed to himself no matter where he stood in your life, he was gonna make sure you were loved and cared for. He always wanted that for you. Always looked at you in a way he never thought he’d look at a woman. Even today the way he perceived you was the same: a kind, beautiful, giving, and optimistic person who was kind to anyone but herself. “Why don’t we get you to bed, huh? I think you deserve this to say the least.” He says softly, making his way through the hallway into your bedroom.

“A-Actually. Do you think I can just lay with you tonight?” You ask shyly. You felt comfortable in his arms. He made you feel warm, protected. You didn’t want to let that go. Not now. Of course, Bucky could not say no, so he carried you to his room, where you both met a sleeping Alpine perched on her cute tower. You smiled as he laid you down gently before he laid next to you, an arm wrapped around your waist. “Thank you, Buck…you know I’m grateful for you,” you murmured sleepily, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and relaxing. Bucky only smiled and rubbed your back for comfort. “Never forget I’ll do anythin’ for you sweetheart. Promise.” He whispers, sleep taking over him a bit quicker than a normal night. You smiled as you watched his breathing steady out, knowing he was asleep. You couldn’t help the grin from ear to ear before you slept yourself. It will take a while for this pain of yours to end, but… maybe, just maybe it’s time for you to stop looking at what’s behind and what’s beyond. Maybe it’s time for you to rediscover your worth, who you can love and who can love you. Maybe it’s time that you trust yourself, for you are worth it all and you alone is a good enough reason to live your life as it should. And maybe, just maybe… you’ll see where the brunette man with a metal arm in front of you will stand in your life. Just one step at a time and one day at a time, you tell yourself as you slowly drift into dreamland. However, you were happy, for this was the first night you felt like you were enough, and felt that hope that used to reside in your heart. For once in a long time, you didn’t feel the weight in your heart anymore, for behind you, Bucky Barnes was right behind you carrying it right with you.

Permanent Taglist: @world-of-aus @world-of-aus-reads @whew-oh-em-gee @tomholland-96 @lordyitsjordy @letstalkaboutsebbaby @thee-soom-soom @lookiamtrying @vesper852 @hailhydra920 @buckybarnesthehotshot @heyiamthatbitch @rodrikstark

#bucky barnes #mcu #bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes scenario #buckybarnesxreader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers x reader #mcu angst #comfort fic #Bucky comfort fic

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esmealux · 3 years

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I'll bite. 13 and 35 look like they might be fun together. 😈

Thank you so much for this fun prompt, Shelly ❤ The opportunities seemed endless, but in the end I went with this. I hope you like it.

Once again, I screwed up at brevity, so this is 1.9K (:

13. Someone does something stupid + 35. 'You wanna bet?' 'Care to wager?'

Never make a bet with the Devil.

A deal, if you must. But do not bet against him.

Not because he’ll take your soul or anything; he won’t even necessarily take your money.

But because he can’t handle it. He can’t. He’ll stop at nothing to win, and when he doesn’t—when he can’t shoot down a bottle of vodka with a slingshot from 400 feet away, or blow a soap bubble with his nose, or fly to Sweden and back in under thirty minutes (the latter he did do, but a drug test showed he’d taken EPO)—he’ll walk around in a pathetic cloud of self-pity, sulking and pouting to an unbearable degree for days on end.

So if you care about the Devil, don’t bet with him. It’s for his own good.

It really is.

And yet-

Chloe picks up the dirty plates from the coffee table as gunshots fire around her. It makes her a little uneasy, how real it sounds through their newly installed surround sound system. One so expensive she doesn’t even want to know.

Their just as overpriced (and unnecessarily big) TV is bathing Lucifer in white-blue light as he stares at the screen intently. He did want to watch the movie with her, but she’s not much of a Weaponizer fan, and she’d like to clean up before she snuggles up next to him on the couch and inevitably falls asleep. As she’s gathered all the dishes in her arms, however, she can’t help but pause and glance at the film for just a second.

‘Yeah, like that could actually happen,’ she snorts, watching the car jump across a considerable gap in a bridge, flip mid-air, and land on all four wheels on the other side. ‘I mean, no one’s ever done that.’

As soon as the words leave her mouth Chloe knows she’s made a mistake.

Lucifer pauses the movie—because God forbid he misses five seconds of a film he’s watched thirty times—before he looks up at her with a lifted eyebrow and a devilish grin.

‘Is that a challenge, Detective?’

Chloe glares at him, her jaw clenching. ‘It’s not possible,’ she states firmly, which is even worse, because now he can only reply with-

‘Care to wager?’

Chloe wants to kick herself.

‘There’s no way in Hell you’re doing that,’ she tells him, nodding towards the paused screen before she heads for the kitchen to start the dishwasher.

‘Why? Because my worried girlfriend won’t let me?’ he calls after her. ‘I’m invulnerable, remember?’

Chloe refills her wine glass, generously, and returns to the living room.

‘No,’ she objects, careful not to spill Pinot Noir on the couch as she settles against Lucifer’s warm, silk-clad side. ‘I just know you’ll never forgive yourself when your beloved Corvette rams into a cliff.’

Lucifer gasps and scoffs. ‘As if I’d ever risk such a sweet beauty like that!’ He plucks the glass out of her hand and takes a sip. ‘And even if I did, she would not, because I would succeed, first try.’

‘First try? Really?’

Chloe grabs the remote and replays the last fifteen seconds. Looking at it a second time, it’s even more ridiculous. The background is so obviously a green screen it’s not even funny, the flip is clearly made using some sort of outdated CGI, and they haven’t even bothered making it look like there’s a real person in the car. Also—Chloe doesn’t remember much from school, but she’s pretty sure the entire stunt defies physics as the car leaps, practically flies over the 150 feet gap, all the while rotating 360 degrees sideways.

‘Maybe third,’ Lucifer admits.

Chloe shakes her head and sighs.

‘I can do it, Detective.’ He looks at her like it’s a threat. ‘And I will.’

Oh, he will definitely try. The determination in his eyes leave no doubt about that. But he can’t possibly copy that stunt with an actual car and an actual gap. There’s just no way. And she shouldn’t spur him on. She really shouldn’t. But the idiot’s gotta learn at some point, and if she’s gonna have to deal with his childish disappointment (and she will), she might as well get something out of it.

‘Fine,’ she shrugs. ‘What are we betting?’

He grins at her, brown eyes twinkling with excitement.

‘If—nay, when I win,’ he answers promptly, and Chloe rolls her eyes, ‘I’ll finally get that thing I’ve always wanted.’

Chloe stares at him, comepletely clueless. If his tone and stupid smirk are anything to go by, it’s not a pet shark he’s talking about.

‘One... re-enactment for another,’ he clarifies slowly, his dark gaze gliding over her body before his eyes flicker to the glass doors leading to their terrace—and their outdoor hot tub.

Chloe fights the urge to roll her eyes again.

‘Okay,’ she agrees, internally reminding herself it doesn’t really matter. She gives him a cocky smile. ‘And when I win?’

Lucifer chuckles as if he finds her adorably naïve. Asshat. Still, he says, ‘You’ll get anything you desire.’

Chloe thinks. There’s not much she desires he wouldn’t give her anyway. She could have him do paperwork for a month, but he’d just mess it up, and she’d have to listen to his complaints about ‘torturous boredom’ and ‘purgatory’. She could also go for something funnier, like have him wear t-shirt and sweats to work for a week. But that would just be cruel, wouldn’t it?

‘I don’t know,’ she tells him, but the words are barely out of her mouth before Trixie’s enthusiastic voice sounds behind them.

‘I might have an idea!’

Lucifer sighs and gives Chloe an unimpressed look before he shifts slightly in his seat to look at her daughter.

‘Alright, but only because your mum lacks creativity like a sober Faulkner.’

Trixie walks around the couch and comes to stand in front of them, a mischievous smile on her face.

‘Please don’t tell me it’s a unicorn on the cheek,’ Lucifer huffs, taking another gulp of Chloe’s wine.

‘It’s not,’ she assures him and holds out her iPad for him to see. It’s a doodle of a small, fluffy goat with pink fur. ‘I was thinking something more… permanent.’ With the hand that’s not holding her tablet, Trixie pats a spot on the left side of her upper chest.

Lucifer slowly removes the wine glass from his lips, and the sheer horror on his face makes Chloe snort with laughter.

He stares at the small, inarguably adorable drawing like it’s a personal insult, glances down at his chest with dread, and looks back to Trixie.

‘You little Devil,’ Lucifer grumbles, but there’s no trace of hostility in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little impressed. He grabs Trixie’s iPad from her outstretched hand and studies the pink kawaii buck for a second, as if he’s seriously considering saying yes to the deal.

Eventually, he sighs. ‘I’m in.’

‘Lucifer-’ Chloe immediately begins to protest. He’s not gonna win this bet, and she knows how downright intolerable he’ll be when he’ll have to get a cute, chubby animal—one that, to him, represents mockery and misconception—tattooed onto his skin. She's tired already, just thinking about all the whining she'd have to deal with.

But it’s too late. Her boyfriend and daughter shake hands, and the deal is settled.

Chloe palms her face.

‘Wait, what do you get if you actually manage to… whatever it is this time?’ Trixie asks, her small hand still clasped in Lucifer’s.

Chloe looks up at him, heat creeping up her cheeks. Their eyes meet shortly before he looks back to her daughter, visibly conflicted.

‘Eh…’

It’s not so much a word as it is a breathy, high-pitched sound, partly stuck in his throat. But it’s answer enough for Trixie.

‘Forget I asked,’ she quickly says, her face scrunched up in disgust. ‘I’ll be in my room.’

She takes her iPad back and leaves them alone on the couch.

‘So, I guess it’s tit or tat, then,’ Lucifer remarks with a chuckle, glancing down at Chloe’s chest.

She snorts and smiles, despite herself.

‘But, I mean-’ He grabs the remote and plays the scene a third time.

He must not see the same utterly absurd and almost comically impossible stunt she (still) sees, because he leans down and whispers in her ear, ‘Better start rehearsing your lines, Detective.’

Chloe shakes her head at him and snuggles closer to his body.

‘You’re lucky I like your mother,’ Lucifer mumbles as the needle pinches ink into his chest.

He’d driven off in a ‘cheap’ Porsche this morning and returned eight hours later, looking like he’d literally been fed to the wolves and with no Porsche.

‘Hey honey,’ she’d greeted him, hiding her smirk behind her cup of tea. ‘How’d it go?’

He’d answered with a grunt, blamed the Germans for making their cars too ‘praktisch’ and the Italians for not making theirs fast enough (he’d controlled for variables) and finally concluded it was all his dad’s fault because He ‘created that pesky gravity’.

Then he’d handed her an ornate, black business card and looked at her as if he’d picked his own casket.

Chloe had bit her cheek and hugged him before driving all three of them to the high-end tattoo parlour he’d requested.

‘You okay there?’ she asks him, letting him grip her hand tighter. The fact that he isn’t feeling any actual pain—‘any physical pain, Detective!’—makes his wincing all the more pathetic. Still, she feels a little bad for him.

‘No.’ He bends his neck to peer down at his chest, and pouts. ‘I’m not.’

Trixie grins beside him. ‘I think it looks cool!’

‘Of course, you do. You’re a twelve-year-old girl.’

The smile on Trix’ face turns into a smirk. ‘A twelve-year-old who girl you lost a bet to.’

Sighing deeply, Lucifer turns his head to scowl at her like she’s his annoying little sister and not the stepdaughter he’d go to the ends of the universe for.

‘It’ll be gone in a few months,’ Chloe reminds him, earning her a funny look from the tattoo artist.

The muscle in Lucifer’s jaw ticks. ‘It’s not even finished yet and I already hate it more than I ever did my bloody wings! How am I supposed to endure this… horned cotton candy for months?’

Chloe takes a deep breath. She brought this on herself. She knew she shouldn’t have made that bet with him. She knew he’d be an insufferable drama queen.

She also knows, after hours of hearing him moan, that he’s not gonna shut up about ‘deceitful special effects’ and ‘useless laws of physics’, much less the ‘vile, little creature marring his muscled chest’. Not unless she does something.

So Chloe does something.

For the second time in her life, she gets naked in—and out of a hot tub.

‘No moaning, then,’ she tells him, giving him a stern look.

Lucifer looks her up and down in awe and hunger, dark eyes lingering on the tiny red bikini he knows she’ll take off in a matter of seconds. ‘Now, there’s a promise I can’t keep.’

‘About the wager,’ she clarifies, but he’s not listening.

With a sigh, Chloe sinks into the hot, bubbling water, loosens her bikini top, and gets into character.

She is never, ever betting with the Devil again.

#deckerstar fanfiction #two part drabble game #writing #lucifer x chloe #chloe x lucifer #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #established deckerstar #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer on netflix #some point in the future #deckerstar fluff #fluff

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buckyhad · 3 years

Text

Tangled (Bucky Barnes x Stark!reader)

II. Meeting.

Summary: Since tony met you, he keep you safe in the tower, but Bucky has another idea about that.

A Rapunzel avenger story.

Warnings: minor violence.

Word counting: 1,4k

Note: if you see a mispelling let me know. Also if you want to be added to the masterlist tell me or reblog. Lots of love.

Tangled masterlist

After hitting the guy with a frying pan, he fell over face first. I analized him for something that can hurt me but didn't find anything.

"Huh?." Bucky started open an eye.

And I hitted him again.

I put him in a chair and used my hair as a rope. Didn't told you how long my hair is now?

"Too weak to handle myself out there, huh Anthony? Well, Tell that to my frying pan!" And I hitted my head. "Fuck, it hurts." I rub my temple.

"That's what you get for hurting me"

"Buck! I'm gonna hit you again if you don't stop interrumpting."

"But I make it funnier! Auch! Fine."

"AHH!" Bucky was awaked with Pascal's tongue in his ear. "Wha..? Is this...hair?."

"May I've to call F.R.I.D.A.Y?" I asked the intruder.

"What? No."

"Who are you, and how did you find me?."

"Ah. hah?."

"Are you dumb? Who are you, and how did you find me?."

Bucky clears his throat "I know not who you are. Nor how I came to find you. But may I just say. Hi! How you doing? The names Bucky Barnes. How's your day going, huh?."

"Who else knows my location, Bucky Barnes?" I pointed at him with the pan.

"All right, doll,"

"(Y/n)."

"Gesundheit. Here's the thing. I was in a situation, Gallivanting through the forest. I can across your door and...Ho, ho no, where is my satchel?."

"I've hidden it, somewhere you'll never find it." I looked my nails like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"It's in the pot, isn't it." And I hitted him again, moved the satchel and made a sign to Pascal, so he can wakes the man in the chair "Ugh! would you stop that?!." He said while rubbing his ear in his shoulder to clean Pascal's saliva.

"Now it's hidden where you'll never find it. So, what do you want, with my hair? To cut it? Sell it?"

"No! Listen, the only thing I want to do with your hair, is to get out of it. Literally!" Bucky was annoyed at this point.

"Wait, you don't want my hair? Did my dad send you?."

"Why on earth would I want your hair? And who the hell is your dad?,"

"Tony" I interrumpted.

"Tony has a daughter? Look, I was being chased, I saw a door, I open it, end of story."

I turned around "Hmmm. I know. I need someone to take me. I think he's telling the truth, too. What choice do I have?," speaking with Pascal I decided to make a deal with him "Okay Bucky Barnes, I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

"Deal?."

"Tomorrow evening they will light the night sky, with lanterns. You will act as my guide, Take me to these lanterns, and return me home safely. Then, and only then, will I return your satchel to you. That is my deal."

"Yeah," he smiled "no can do. Unfortunately, the city and I are not exactly, simpatico, at the moment. So I won't be taking you anywhere."

"Something brought you here, Bucky Barnes. Call it what you will, fate, destiny."

"A horse."

"So I have made the decision to trust you."

"A horrible decision, really."

"But trust me, when I tell you this. You can tear this tower apart, brick by brick. but without my help, you will never find your precious satchel."

"Yeah Tony would kill me if I do that so it's not an option" he clears his throat "Let me just get this straight. I take you to see the lanterns. Bring you back home. and you'll give me back my satchel?"

"Yes."

"All right, listen, I didn't want to have to want to do this, but you leave me no choice. Here comes the 'smolder'." He twisted his face into a weird type of duck face while raising an eyebrow. "This is kind of an off day for me.This doesn't normally happen." I pointed the pan at him again "Fine, I'll take you to see the lanterns."

"Really!" I queaked, releasing the hold on the chair, making he hits his face with the floor "Ooops."

"You broke my 'smolder'."

"You coming, Doll?" Bucky asks while climbing down the stairs. I jumped helping myself with my hair. He looked at me with his mouth open.

"What? I've to give it some use."

"Look at the world, so close and I'm halfway to it

Look at it all, so big, do I even dare?

Look at me, there at last, I just have to do it

Should I?

Here I go

Just smell the grass, the dirt, just like I dreamed they'd be

Just feel that summer breeze, the way it's calling me."

"Oh god are you going to sing all the way through?."

"Of course, otherwise where is the fun?."

"I'm gonna kill myself."

"For like the first time ever, I'm completely free

I could go running and racing and dancing and chasing

And leaping and bounding, hair flying, heart pounding

And splashing and reeling and finally feeling

That's when my life begins"

"I can't believe I did this." I mumbled

"I can't believe I did this." I exclaim one minute after that .

"I CAN'T BELIEVE I DID THIS!" I screamed. "Tony will be so furious. That's okay though, what he doesn't know won't kill him, right?" Trying to convince myself was hard.

"Oh my gosh, this will kill him."

"THIS IS SO FUN!"

"I am a horrible daughter, I'm going back."

"I am never going back!."

"I am a despicable human being." "WAHHOOOOO! Best day, ever!."

I ended up sobbing sitting in the floor.

Bucky clears his throat "You know, I can't help but notice, you seem a little at war with yourself, here."

I looked his way.

"Now, I'm only picking up bits and pieces. Overprotective father, forbidden road trip. This is serious stuff. But let me ease your conscience. This is part of growing up. A little rebellion, a little adventure.That's good, healthy even."

I laughed "You think?."

"I know. You're way over thinking this, trust me. Does your father deserve it? No. Will this break his heart and crush his soul? Of course. But you just got to do it."

"Break his heart?." I mumbled.

"In half."

"Crush his soul?."

"Like a grape."

"Wait, where did you find those grapes?."

"Oh, you know, just stole them." He said matter of facts.

I gasped and went back to my crisis "he would be heart broken, you're right."

"I am, aren't I? Oh, bother. All right, I can't believe I'm saying this, but...I'm letting you out of the deal."

"What? No you are not."

"Don't thank me. Let's just turn around,and get you home, here's your pan, here's your dog. I get back my satchel. You get back a father daughter relationship based on mutual trust and viola! We part ways as unlikely friends."

"No, I am seeing those lanterns." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Oh, come on! What is it going to take to get my satchel back?" He kicked the ground like a child.

Showing my pan in his direction, I heard a noice, jumping behind him. "Is it, war criminal, assassin? Have they come for me?!" Having a avenger dad telling you storys doesn't help if you're scaping.

"Stay calm, it can probably smell fear." Bucky smiled while looking at the squirrel in front of us.

"Oh, sorry. Getting just a little bit, jumpy." I eased myself. "Probably be best if we avoid war criminals and assassins, though."

"Yeah, that's probably best." He chuckled. "Are you hungry? I know a great place for lunch."

"Where?."

"Oh, don't you worry. You'll know it when you smell it."

*at the Stark tower*

Tony entered the building while talking in his phone. "Hey Maximus." He continue walking and abruptly stopped.

Maximus sniffed at him.

"Where's Nat?." Taking the stairs he open the door to your place. "(Y/n)?." After not having a response, he called his A.l "Where's (Y/n)?."

"She went out with Mr.Barnes."

"I'm gonna kill him. Call Steve."

"Calling Steve."

"Hey Tony, what happen?."

"Your ciborg kidnapped my daughter."

"What?. You know where Buck is?."

"No I don't, gonna track him to make sure the two of them are fine." Tony rolled his eyes. He didn't want his child with a retired assassin but who can take better care of her than him?.

*back at the city*

"I know it's around here, somewhere. Ah, there it is. The Snuggly duckling. Don't worry, very quaint place, perfect for you. Don't want you scaring, and giving up on this endeavor now do we?"

"Well, I do like ducklings."

Taglist: @gabrielislovegabrielislife

@archive-of-the-fic @tonystankschild

#bucky barnes #the avengers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #flynn rider #tangled #incorrect marvel quotes #avengers incorrect quotes #Spotify

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shiggy-94 · 4 years

Text

Trick r’ Treat

Halloween was your favorite day of the year. Spending the entire month of October watching scary movies and planning your costume always made for a good lead up to the day. And now that you and Tomura were together you couldn't wait to share this tradition with him.

The moment it became October you had piles of movies ready to watch with him even finding some scary games to play with him when he inevitably got bored with watching movies. It was fun. Starting the day off with a game with him and ending it with a movie before bed.

You even made sure to include the rest of the LOV. Laughing when Twice got too scared or listening to Dabi's commentary of the movie making it less scary and more funnier. Things were amazing until you brought up costumes.

Don't get me wrong everyone for the most part was on board for dressing up and seeing where the night took you except for Tomura.

Tomura wasn't one to dress up. The more comfortable the better. But no matter how much you compromised with him he wouldn't budge. Eventually, you gave up deciding you would dress up for the both of you. Something he had no knowledge about.

You spent hours researching and finding the materials to recreate the costume exactly as shown. Having Toga help you with the fit of the costume to your body getting excited as the days passed. Until a week before Halloween when the costume was officially done.

"What do you think?" you turn to look at Toga turning around so she could get a good look at it on you.

"I think Tomura might actually die when he sees you" she giggles going up to fix the bottom half of the costume.

"Does my ass look okay?" you question feeling her fix the shorts.

"Your ass looks perfect. Literally perfect" she squeals taking one last look at you before pulling her phone out.

"We should take a photo to commemorate our first Halloween together" she grins pulling you close to here.

"But it's not Halloween yet" you laugh wrapping your arm around her.

"True but by the looks of this costume I don't think I'll be seeing much of you the day off" she teases before taking several photos together.

The week went by quickly and before you knew it it was Halloween night and you guys were in the process of getting into your costumes.

"C'mon Tomura you don't even have to dress up you can just go like that with us" you whine as you sit on his lap arms wrapping around his neck.

"Who's gonna make sure we don't get in trouble" you mumble into his neck. Peppering kisses up his neck until reaching his lips.

"I already told you, baby. You guys can go as long as you stay with the group you guys should be okay" he answers dryly before smashing his lips to yours. Hands pulling you flush against him.

You break away to look at him pouting in the process. "I'll make you change your mind," you say as you get off his lap and head to Toga's room to get ready leaving him confused.

"Everything looks good?" you ask giving yourself one last look in the mirror.

"Perfect! We're all set to go" Toga jumps grabbing her backpack and heading towards the door.

"You guys go ahead I just need to try one last time with Tomura," you tell her giving her a quick hug before sending them on their way.

You close the door taking a moment to collect yourself before making your way to your shared room with Tomura.

You get to the door adjusting your costume before knocking.

You hear Tomura get up from his gaming chair walking over to the door and slowly opening up eyes widening the moment he sees you.

"Trick r' Treat" you grin sticking out your bag towards him.

He stands there mouth agape as he stared you down. Getting a good look at your costume and how perfectly it fit you.

"Y-you dressed up as my favorite video game character?" he asked in disbelief moving aside letting you into your room.

"Well, when you told me you weren't going to dress up I decide to dress up for the both of us," you tell him putting your bag on the bed before walking up to him twirling around letting him get a good look at you.

"I wanted you to see the outfit before I left in hopes of changing your mind" you chuckle arms wrapping around his neck as you see the light blush covering his face.

His arms wrap around you instinctively pulling you flush against him.

"You're not going out in this" he states his grip on you tightening. A hand traveling down to your ass giving it a firm squeeze making you yelp.

"What?!? Why not " you whine lips hovering above his. Slowly feeling yourself caring less about going out.

"I think you know why" he whispers tongue licking your lips before kissing you.

His hands cup your thighs picking you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist hands pulling at his hair earning a moan from him giving you easy access to his tongue.

"You're so fucking perfect" he mumbles against your lips making his way to the bed.

"Dressing up as my favorite character...fuck" he says laying you on the bed taking a moment to take in your flushed body reaching out for him.

"My perfect sexy baby" he grins leaning back down to you to kiss you again his hips grinding against yours creating that much-needed friction.

"F-fuck Tomura" you pant legs wrapping around him again pulling him closer to your core.

He kisses down your neck leaving hickeys in his wake. Your hips bucking up to his trying to create more friction.

"Such a needy pet" he grins slowly making his way down to your core. His hands wrap around your thighs pulling you closer to his face.

"Look at you so ready for me" he teases face burying into your clothed sex.

"Shit Tomura" you moan grabbing a hand full of his hair hips bucking up to his touch.

He pulls away arms holding you down. "Someone's eager" he chuckles hands going to the waistband of your shorts slowly pulling them down. Smiling as he watches you squirm.

"As much as I love this costume baby I'd rather see it on the floor than you right now," he says taking his time pulling the shorts off you throwing them to the other side of the room.

"So fucking perfect" he grins face mere inches away from your sex giving you one last look before devouring you.

His tongue moving in and out of your tight hole as his arms kept you in place. "F-fuck" you yell out in pleasure your legs pulling him closer to your heat as he licked up and down your sex paying close attention to your center.

"Always so tasty" he mumbles against you groaning at the feel of you squirming against him.

He moves one of his arms from around your hips keeping you in place with one arm. His fingers teasing your hole as his tongue paid attention to your most sensitive spots.

"Tomura...please" you whine trying to move your body closer to him.

"Please what pet?" he teases removing his mouth completely from you. His chin covered in your juices.

"Fuck me" you groan your hands reaching to pull him up to you.

"On one condition," he says as he stands up removing his pants in the process. He grabs your hand pulling you up. His hands moving to your thighs picking you up once again before sitting down on the bed with you on his lap.

"You ride me" he grins hands cupping your ass as you begin to grind yourself on him.

Your arousal covering his length making him groan guiding your hips faster.

You lift yourself a bit grabbing his length. Dragging his tip against you teasing him a bit.

"F-fuck baby" he moans grabbing your hips as you lowered yourself onto him.

Your tight walls molding to his length. You still for a moment adjusting to his size before slowly grinding yourself onto him. Making sure to enjoy the noises he made as you kept your movements agonizingly slow.

"C'mon pet don't tease me," he says through gritted teeth his grip on your hips tightening.

You giggle before bouncing up and down on his cock catching him off guard.

"Fuck y/n!" he yells eyes rolling to the back of his head.

His hands begin pushing you harder onto his cock making your breath hitch.

His mouth going to attack your neck making his way down your chest pulling your shirt down getting access to your nipples. Taking one into his mouth.

"Tomura" you moan your hands grabbing his shoulders steadying yourself as your movements got faster.

"That's it baby ride my cock" he moans biting your nipple before moving to the other one. "let the entire block know who's making you feel so good"

He leans back onto the bed watching as you lost yourself while riding his cock.

"You look so beautiful riding my cock" he praises hands roaming up your thighs.

His hands going back to your hips holding you as he begins to meet your thrusts reaching a deeper angle than before.

"Fucking hell" you yell out your nails raking down his stomach leaving marks in your wake.

"Shit" Tomura groans out throwing his head back onto the bed enjoying the feel of your nails digging into his skin making him go faster than before.

You felt yourself getting closer, your movements becoming sloppier as you chased your release. "F-fuck Tomuraa I-i'm close" you groan leaning down towards him and crashing your lips with his.

"Come for me baby" he mumbles against your lips his hips meeting your thrusts hitting your core over and over sending you over the edge.

"Tomura" you scream out your walls clenching around him bringing him closer to his release.

He continues to hit into your core his pace erratic as ever. Fucking you through your climax.

You trail down to his neck kissing him harshly leaving hickeys wherever you could. Feeling yourself getting closer to your next release.

"Shit baby don't stop" he encourages as you suck on the sensitive spot on his neck. Leaving a dark hickey before biting into it sending him over the edge.

"Y-y/n" he yells out stilling inside of you. His milky seed covering your walls sending you over the edge milking him completely dry.

You stay in that position. Panting as you try to catch your breath.

You lean up to look at him noticing the marks you leftover his body. Hands trailing down his chest tracing the scratches.

He cups your face bringing you down to him kissing you. His tongue lazily massaging yours. "My perfect baby" he praises into the kiss caressing your face.

"I think this may have been my favorite Halloween to date" you grin moving his hair out of his face.

"And you wanted to go out" he teases bringing you to lay on top of him still buried deep inside you.

You bury your head in the crook of his neck peppering it with kisses as your other hand grabbed the other side of his neck giving you better access to him. You feel him twitch inside of you his length hardening once again.

You lean up to look at him smiling as you continued your assault.

"Ready for round two" he grins gripping your hips and filliping you over. You look at him excited for what was to come.

"You didn't think it would be over so soon...No baby we're just getting started"

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

“Did you just hit me? With a pillow? Oh. It’s on now.” for Sam and Bucky aka the weiner club

Sam has seen some questions floating around on the internet about the worst thing that came out of World War II. He has a lot of answers.

But he thinks he has the final answer as to the worst thing that came out of World War II:

James Buchanan Barnes.

What a dumbass.

For one thing, absolutely wrecked his credit score when he ripped his steering wheel right out of his car. It was a new car too, just gotten and Sam had gotten a fancy car-freshener, not one of the trees that was labeled Black Ice. You know, the scent that every guy-in-his-twenties had. No, he was getting fancy in life. Upgrading, as it were.

And then this absolute goddamn travesty of a human being with a metal arm that was more indestructible than that one spoon that keeps getting stuck in the garbage disposal and somehow makes it out.

Steve brings him back. And now Bucky--which is a very stupid name--is currently stealing all of Sam’s fancy oatmeal and he knows he’s doing it.

Bucky is having a lot of fun at Sam’s expense, and Sam can’t say shit about it because Bucky goes “oh boo I’m a traumatized war veteran who had to go to Russia for like fifty years. Let me eat your oatmeal you stupid bitch” and Sam has to let him.

So Sam decides that he will just refuse to ever interact with Bucky on any level except Enemy.

Sharon tells him he’s being a tad dramatic.

“That oatmeal cost me seven dollars every week and he fucking eats it.”

“Not all of it,” Sharon says. “He’s not bad, he’s just messing with you. Steve is still treating him like he’s one of those glass figurines that Bruce collects.”

“Bruce collects glass figurines? What?”

“Yeah. I think he finds them in thrift shops and just collects them. I can’t decide if it’s an intimidation tactic for the Hulk or for Tony.”

“Tony is scared of glass figurines?”

“He’s scared of breaking stuff. Don’t ask, it involves Pepper.”

“Oh. I think it’s weird that you know him on such a personal level.”

“Why?”

“I was literally just telling you the last time I went grocery shopping and you told me, and I quote, ‘stop telling me all this personal shit I have limited memory storage in my brain’.”

“It’s because I do. I don’t give a shit about your grocery purchases unless any of it is for me.”

“Very self-centered.”

“Quite. But give Bucky a little leeway.”

“Absolutely not.”

Bucky absolutely knows what he is doing. He really and truly does. He’s been texting Maria Hill about the whole thing, who finds it absolutely hilarious.

In fact, everyone knows what he’s doing. Except for Steve, which makes it even funnier.

Steve is under the impression that Bucky has no idea that that was Sam’s oatmeal, or Sam’s favorite coffee cup.

He most definitely knows it. But Sam has funny reactions, and in all honesty, a lot of it isn’t that big a deal.

And then Sam wacks him with a pillow.

“You hit me. With a pillow.” Sam wacks him again.

“Oh, it’s on now.”

The Pillow Wars commence.

There are three rules:

1.) No headshots. Those are mean and stupid and bad.

2.) You cannot use any of the pillows that Tony or Pepper bought. Both are incredibly enamored with their own interior design and decoration choices, and will not be messed with. It took Bucky only once to learn this. He was threatened to be launched out by an arm, and it wasn’t gonna be his left.

3.) Steve and Bruce cannot know

This is mainly for humor purpose. Steve--maybe--would be fine with it. Bruce knows too much about how brains work and how maybe Bucky gets hit with a pillow and Something Bad happens.

So begins the Secret War.

Sam ditches an official interview to sneak on a plane and absolutely wreck Bucky with pillows.

Bucky stealth attacks from ceilings.

The most entertaining is when other people are in the room and the AI Friday informs of “Dr. Banner’s” or “Captain Rogers’s” imminent arrival.

“Hey Steve-o,” Bucky says, just casually draping his arm over Sam’s shoulders. (And potentially maybe holding him quite tightly so as to not have him escape. He’s made the mistake before.) “What’s going on in the world with you?”

“Nat and I are going to practice parkour,” Steve says. “You guys have gotten...closer?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, grinning. “Best buds, us two. Peas in a pod.”

“Or more,” Steve teases. “I’m right, right? The hugs, the way that Sam was on top of you earlier, Buck...my two friends dating?”

They freeze.

They can’t tell him no, because then Steve is going to know that they’ve been fighting.

“Yes,” Bucky answers. “Sam asked me out a couple weeks ago. We’ve been trying to take it slow, but you know how modern men are. Too quick for their own damn good.”

Sam wants to fucking murder him.

Because this? Exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too. Baby.”

“Oh, ‘baby’? That’s the one you’re going with? Listen you fucking asshole--”

“Nope! Sorry!”

This leads to dating. And even more lying.

Because Sam has to keep it up and pretend like he’s been sharing his oatmeal. They have to go out on actual dates because Steve “checks in” on his runs that he takes (he takes multiple because he’s insane) and they have to be in love.

It is disgusting.

Bucky has had to use hard-earned money to get Sam stupid shit like flowers and “just thinking of you” gifts and a birthday present. He had to spend money on a nice shirt and a cute plant that Sam will like.

This is what changes things, by the way.

Bucky was not supposed to be thinking about how Sam has been wanting a peppermint plant for a while, but he won’t fucking shut up about it and he won’t stop telling Bucky about all the cute pots that he wants to put it in and Bucky was not supposed to go to the nursery and go get it.

But he did. Because Sam wouldn’t shut up and Bucky wasn’t gonna be a basic bitchy boyfriend and get him flowers and a dinner. That is for losers. Which Bucky most certainly is not.

Sam is surprised that Bucky is listening.

And then they realize that it’s not exactly that they’re mad that they’re dating. In fact, Sam kind of likes having a special someone to go to breakfast with, even if Bucky kind of hates the diner he keeps choosing.

(To be fair their muffins are dry but also to be fair Bucky will simply not order an omelette, which is their best option.)

Maybe Bucky likes remembering fun little facts about Sam, like how he hates red petunias because his old neighbor always had them everywhere, or how he secretly thought that Captain America was literally just a media project meant to consider how well propaganda worked on the American people.

(If Bucky hadn’t remembered that Steve was literally just That Stupid, he probably would’ve agreed with that theory.)

So now they have Stupid Feelings. This Sucks.

Also? Sharon is laughing at Sam, because she’s a terrible gay best friend.

“You’re gay too, so that makes us just friends. Cancels all that shit out. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re stupid and didn’t recognize that you liked him. It literally took Steve assuming you were a couple to get this whole thing rolling.”

“Wait, so you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Sam I’m sorry you have to hear it from me, but I had a hell of a lot more faith in you than I should have. Is that a sin? That should be a sin.”

“I will literally write you out of my will just watch me.”

“Who else is going to take your ugly paintings, Sam? Who? Steve? He went to art school for a year. He knows quality.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, just like you hate Bucky,” Sharon says, laughing. “Have fun with that, by the way. Hope you confess your feelings soon!”

Sam is not having fun with this. No, not at all.

It’s mostly because Bucky is still stealing his oatmeal and they’re in Public and he can’t confess his feelings. It’s just not convenient. Also Bucky is having a lot of conversation with a certain guy that Tony knows in one way or another, and they’ve hit it off.

Steve is looking at Bucky.

“Huh, he seems to like that guy a lot, they’ve been talking for a while. You know him, Sam?”

“No,” Sam says. “But I’m sure everything is fine.”

(Well everything is probably fine on Bucky’s end. Sam is trying Very Hard to not be jealous at all. People talk all the time. He’s talking to Steve right now. It doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything to Steve.)

(It’s not working, if you wanted clarification. The whole “I’m not actually jealous” thought.)

He hits Bucky with another pillow.

“What the hell?” Bucky mutters, flicking on the light.

“Come to bed, asshole.”

“I hate you,” Bucky grumbles, shrugging off his tuxedo jacket. “Let me get into my pajamas first before you start a pillow war.”

“Surprised you came home at all. Thought you and that guy were getting awfully cozy.”

“Ain’t my type,” Bucky answers, “and his wife wasn’t my type either.”

“Then who is?”

Bucky looks at him.

“You seriously wanna know?”

“If you’ll answer, yeah.”

“Sam, my type is someone who is an absolute asshole who I hate a lot.”

Sam blinks.

“You wanna know what my type is, Barnes?”

“Who?”

“Someone who keeps stealing my fucking oatmeal.”

Bucky stops and pauses. Then starts shaking with laughter.

“We really are the worst, aren’t we?”

“In a sense, yeah. We have an early breakfast tomorrow with Maria and Pepper, by the way. So come to bed.”

“Yes, dear.”

Doesn’t matter if it’s said sarcastically. Sam still likes it.

There’s a part to this story you should know:

Steve’s absolutely not stupid about this certain situation. He knew Bucky was a little shit who kept stealing oatmeal. He also knew that Sam liked him, even if he didn’t recognize it himself.

By him insinuating that he thought they were dating, he knew they would never crush his dreams. He’s secretly a manipulative genius like that.

(It also helps that Maria owes him about a thousand dollars or five favors, give or take a couple.)

#surprise surprise sam and bucky are too busy acting like assholes to realize they like each other #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sharon carter #maria hill #lovelyirony writes #anyways sam is cool

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yixxes · 4 years

Text

Anger Management | p.p.

Warnings: Cursing, altercation w a stranger, y/n has a bit of an attitude/anger problem

Word count: 1722

A/N: The reader is Bucky’s younger sister which is like not possible but it’s fine. Enjoy (:

“Oh, go fucking fuck yourself!”

“Hey!” Bucky gave you the look he always gave you when you stepped out of line and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t in the mood to be scolded but your brother obviously didn’t care. “Watch your mouth! The hell’s wrong with you?”

You spared him a two second scowl when he approached the couch, his curious frown trading in for realization and then quickly switching to disappointment. “Seriously? This is your problem?”

Your brows furrowed and your lips jutted out in an annoyed grimace. “This game is stupid, he’s been cheating for the past eight rounds!”

Sam raised his hands with an amused smile on his face that you found beyond annoying. “Hey, I didn’t do anything, but look, I’ll apologize: I’m sorry you picked up the controller before you knew you couldn’t play.”

“Here,” your brother shoved you over and sat in your place before you could enlighten Sam with your colorful vocab and snatched up the controller from your hands. “let me kick his ass for you.”

Sam cackled at Bucky’s confidence and readied up another round. “Yeah, let’s see how far you get with that one.”

“I was playing with that.” You grumbled.

“You’ll live.”

You watched how your brother tapped different buttons and chose certain patterns and inwardly noted how it contrasted to your inarticulate button mashing. It always worked when you played with Steve, why would it not work with...

Crap.

Of course Steve let you win! “That bastard!”

“Y/n,” Bucky warned you firmly and you hated how he kept the button pattern going even when he took his eyes off the screen to stare you down. “seriously, watch your mouth. Who are you even talking about?”

“Come on, kid, I’ll apologize for real if that’s what you want.”

“Not you,” you muttered to Sam. “Steve, he lets me win at this stupid game.” You turned to look at Steve who was on the other side of the couch, smiling guiltily at you.

“You’ll live.” Your brother said again, distracted. “Why don’t you go to the store, we need snacks.”

“Then go get them.”

Bucky paused the game with a sigh and turned to you after setting the controller down on the table. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a few bills that he extended to you before nodding towards the hall that led to the door. Buck wasn’t asking and you weren’t trying him any further.

“Ugh.” You snatched the money and got up from the couch, but you weren’t clear to go yet.

“Stay away from people and don’t go fighting with strangers again.”

What a gross assumption. “That was literally only two ti-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go with her.” Peter came up and threw an arm around you. Your sisterly attitude towards your brother melted into a smile and butterflies.

“Good, hey, make sure she doesn’t speed.”

“Got it!” He called over his shoulder, already making his way to the door with your hand in his.

“I don’t get it.”

Peter frowned and got to explaining the joke to you. “Because the ham sandwich is ordering the beer, but the bartender says-”

You pushed a loaf of bread off of the shelf and let it fall into the basket. “Why would a ham sandwich be ordering anything, it’s a ham sandwich-”

“It’s a joke,” he said pointedly. His attitude at the fact that you didn’t laugh at his joke was funnier than the joke itself. “Why are you laughing? Do you get it now?”

“Yup. ‘s really funny, baby, will you grab the coffee grounds, I’m gonna go get a bag of chips,”

“Okay, wait for me by the chips, I’ll meet you there.”

You nodded and leaned up and forward to kiss his puckered lips and then went off towards the chip aisle with the cart. As much as you were opposed to this shopping trip at first, you really enjoyed doing stuff like this with Peter. Anywhere else, there were eyes on you at all times. With the two of you being the babies of the group and Bucky picking up the overprotective trait that older brothers usually had, your privacy and alone time with Peter typically ranged from scarce to nonexistent. Going on little snack runs with him where you could hold hands and kiss without scrutiny was nice. It even made you think about how maybe sometime down the line you and Peter would have a shared place of your own and trips like these would occur much more frequently and that definitely made you smile.

Your smile was short lived, though, when some man stopped his cart right in the way of yours and decided that right then and there was a perfect opportunity to take a look at his phone.

Breathe in through your nose, Bucky always instructed, and out through your mouth. It could’ve been an honest mistake. Maybe he didn’t see you there, you thought to yourself. So, with a polite but rigid smile, you spoke out to him. “’Scuse me, sir, I’m trying to get through.”

He turned to you with an annoyed expression, phone still in hand. He didn’t even look sorry. “And I’m trying to send a text. Some of you damn teenagers were never taught manners a day in your life.”

Manners!? You went over your words in your head and came up with zero reason why some middle aged prick was choosing to yank your chain like this. Your anger was already begging to be let out but you were trying hard to remember how condescending everybody had been back at the tower. They didn’t think you could make it back without blowing up on someone and you planned on proving them wrong.

“Your cart is in my way.” You returned firmly.

“And your patience is just that thin, isn’t it?”

You stared at that man for a few painful seconds. Was he trying to fuck with you? For all of the time that he wasted being a dick without cause, he could’ve moved his cart and been done with you. Paranoia struck and you took a glance around the immediate area. Maybe the guys were here, lurking around to see how long you could hold out, but after a look around you realized how ridiculous that thought was. The guys weren’t here and this wasn’t a test. This guy was a douche and you were letting it slide but you weren’t sure you should’ve been.

“Can you just move your freakin’ cart?” The ‘before I move it for you’ was as silent as the g in lasagna. What was he? 6′1, 6′2? You’d debunked and corrected taller, this would be a breeze.

You quickly shook that thought from your head. You weren’t fighting this grown man.

“Just go around!” He practically shouted.

“Go around where!? You’re blocking the-”

He yanked the front of you cart forward, pulled his back and pushed it into a display of croissants. “You’re welcome.” He said smugly. “Now will you please leave me alone?”

You blinked at the gaping empty space where your cart used to be and then looked up at him. To absolute hell with proving the guys wrong.

“Hey! I got the coffee grounds, did you grab the-”

“Screw you!” You screamed, reaching in his basket and grabbing the first thing that you laid your hand on and throwing it as far as you could.

“What the hell!?”

Peter swooped in after you had already thrown a second thing out of the stranger’s cart and started pulling you away from the scene.

“You need to learn a thing or two about respect, little girl!” The guy was yelling after you, red in the face, stupid phone still in his stupid hand and the other in a fist on his hip.

“Fuck off!” You screamed back, swiping a bag of cotton candy from an end stand, ready to chuck it at that man.

“Hey, hey,” Peter smacked a bag of cotton candy from your hand and continued lugging you away. “take a breath, take a breath. Let me handle this-”

“What’s going on here?” Naturally, the security guard stepped in at the perfect time. You looked like the crazy one, but in fact, it was the douchey middle aged man that started it and you were more than happy to explain that to security.

"Can I have a retake?”

So you had to get your pictures taken by security. You single-handedly landed yourself and Peter on this ridiculous list of people that couldn’t return to the store without adult supervision which was absolutely ridiculous. Even more ridiculous, the man told you that you couldn’t retake your picture.

“Fine.” You didn’t plan on coming back to this hot mess of a store anyways.

Starting the car, you were more than happy to be in the safety of your vehicle, but you remembered that the two of you came out for a reason... and you left without a single one of those reasons.

You ended up driving to another store that was just up the street and got back to the tower about an hour and a half after you left it.

“Where’d you go for the snacks, Australia?”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s sarcastic comment and set the one bag that Peter let you carry down on the table. While Peter set the rest down, you walked passed Tony (whose smile was far too big for your liking) and sat down on the couch.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

Peter lied like a rug. “Good. We got a bargain on the coffee grounds, two for-”

“I got us banned from the store unless we have adult supervision.” You were dejected. This never would’ve happened had you just let that man be stupid by himself.

Bucky hit pause on the game and looked over at you like he was beyond ready to scold you. “You what?”

“Ten.” Peter finished like he hadn’t even stopped. “There was a coupon that we actually found on the floor, luckily it wasn’t expired-”

“Kid, will you be quiet!?” Bucky’s mean mug could scare almost anybody into silence. You watched your boyfriend shrink into himself before your brother turned back to you. “This explanation better be good.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland #mcu imagine #mcu #avengers #avengers imagine

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delemenko · 3 years

Text

"Alright, Cowboy."

Look, don’t ask me what happened while typing this. The title is probably gonna change ngl. I don’t know. This ended up way longer than I anticipated, and I don’t have a beta, so there might be typos. Some things to keep in mind for this post:

This is pre-movie Cowboy. Hell, this is pre-Cowboy Cowboy. I have headcanon that his birth name is Harris (I just like the name.) So, Harris=Cowboy.

Adelay does not/can’t speak. She uses sign language.

I’m gonna put this under a read more link. I hope you enjoy this fic. Constructive criticism is appreciated and welcomed!

"You sure you don't want to just buy the hat? That's like, the third time I've caught you just lookin' at it through the window," a low voice called, causing Harris to look away from the hat in the window and to the source of the voice, breath visible in the cold February air.

"Juka-"

"Better yet, I could just buy it for you, if you really want it."

"No, it's good. It's really expensive. I don't need a new hat right now. I'll buy it when I get the money for it." He told her, walking away from the window. The two walked down the street, stuffing their gloved hands into their pockets. "If you're lookin' for a reason to buy it, A.J. might want it to add to her collection," He mentioned, which Juka replied by shaking her head.

"She said she already has two. Pretty sure she thinks it's a threat if I say I'm buyin' a cowboy hat. Nevermind that I might wanna just get myself one," she said back, causing them both to laugh.

The two continued their walk together, until they parted ways to go to their own houses.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He said, before turning down the street.

“Yeah, bye.”

Juka watched him walk down the street before shaking her head. "I'm getting him that fucking hat."

-----

Harris didn't care much for parties, especially when he was what was being celebrated. He didn't like being around a lot of people, even if he was starting to get accustomed to it. Plus, since Adelay promised that there was only going to be a handful of people, he relented.

"It's literally going to just be you, A.J., Juka, Noah, and me." She signed, as the two walked up the street to Juka's place.

"Oh, I expected you to invite a couple of other people."

"You have other friends that I don't know about?" She let out an exaggerated gasp. "Harris, I'm hurt!"

He laughed lightly. "Well, I don't, but I'm sure Noah and Juka do," He said, as they walked up to Juka's apartment, trying their best not to fall on the icy steps before heading into the building.

Adelay shook her head. "They might, though I'm not sure. Plus, I don't think they really want to get their outside relations involved with us just yet."

Harris knocks on the door and receives a warm "Who is it?" In response.

"Hey, it's Harris and Elle! Can you let us in?"

The door unlocked and opened a moment later, and Juka stood there, strands of curly, light brown hair covering her eyes. "Why are y'all only early when we hang out at my house?" She asked, causing the other two to laugh slightly before they were invited in.

Noah and A.J. were already there, sitting on the floor in the living room playing cards.

"I'm out," Noah said as he put down his last card on the pile causing A.J. to look up from the discard pile in surprise.

"Seriously? I had half of my deck left!"

Noah just shrugged. "Sorry, you gotta move quicker!"

A.J. gathered the cards and began shuffling the cards again as Harris and Adelay walked up. She looked up at the new guests "Oh, hey! Happy birthday!"

"Thanks!" Harris said with a smile. "What are you two playing?"

"We were playing Speed. Take a seat. We're playing blackjack next, unless Juka hurries back," She said, shifting over to make room for the others. Harris came over and sat next to her, while Adelay sat down between him and Noah.

A few light footsteps could be heard from the stairs before Juka walked into the room; her fluffy hair no longer in her face and instead being pulled back by a scarf. She grabbed a large brown bag from the closet and a drink from the table before sitting down. "Do y'all wanna give him your gifts first or should we wait?"

"Eh, if he wants to. Honestly, I got him more of a joke gift," Noah said, holding up his bags.

"I'm really bad at getting gifts. Here's five bucks and a card telling you things," Adelay signed, before handing over an envelope, which Harris took with a chuckle.

He opened the envelope and pulled out the card and read it. "'Harry, you're fun to have around and while I talk about how you look annoyed on a daily basis-' I do not!" He said, looking at Adelay with a slightly surprised look on his face.

"Finish the card, man."

"'I only mean it half the time. I hope you enjoy this special day all about you and take this money to buy yourself a birthday gift on my behalf. Love, Elle.' Aww, thanks, Elle! Can I give you a hug for this?" He asked, putting the card back into the envelope. Adelay feigned annoyance before giving him a hug, which he returned.

"I can go next. Unless Noah or Juka want to go?" A.J. asked.

"Eh, if you want. I already know what reaction my gifts are going to get," Noah said with a snicker.

"Well, since you're so sure that you know how I'll react, why don't you break out your gift then?" Harris challenged, causing Noah to grab his bag.

"Alright, here. In fact, I'll buy you lunch if I can predict everything you're gonna do!" Noah said, handing his gift over.

"You're on. Juka, can we have some paper and a pen?"

Juka grabs the items and hands them to Noah. "This oughta be good," she said, sitting back down on the couch.

Noah wrote something down on the paper, tore it off and handed it to Adelay. She looked at it for a moment; A.J. moving over to see what Noah had written, as Harris started opening his gift. He looked in the bag in confusion for a brief moment. He looked at Noah, still a bit confused before he went back to looking in the bag.

"Wh- oh, I know what this is for. I know exactly what this is for. Real funny, Noah." He looked at Noah and pulled a pack of towels out of the bag. He looked at Noah, "Thanks for the towels," He said, putting them back in the bag as he noticed Adelay and A.J. trying to keep their laughter down. A.J. was leaning on Adelay for support; her face bright red. "What are you two laughing at?"

Adelay handed him the slip of paper as the two continued their laughing fit. He looked at it, Juka looking at it over his shoulder, and they both realised that Noah had predicted everything that he did almost perfectly. "Huh." He looked at Noah, who rests his face in his hands with a satisfied smile on his face, looking back at Harris.

"Make sure to keep your pack of towels on your person at times. You never know what could happen!" Noah said with a mocking tone.

"I mean, they are functional and shit, but why did you get him towels exactly?" Juka questioned.

Harris let out a sigh as Noah chuckled. "While Noah and I were out a week ago, some lady spilled her drink on me. Neither of us had anything to cover it up or dry it, so I had to walk home, looking like I'd pissed my pants. I was wearing light jeans that day, too," He said as Noah handed him a card with some money inside.

"I expected that to be funnier. Still funny, just not as funny as I'd expected," Juka responded causing Noah to shrug in response.

"I feel like you had to be there, really... Juka, you want to give him your gift or should I go first?" A.J. queried. “I can go next if you want me to.”

“Nah, you can go now.”

"Mm." A.J. grabbed her gift and handed it to Harris. “Here you go."

He unwrapped the gift to see a bunch of songs transcribed to be played on acoustic guitar. "Daydream, Venus, More Than A Feeling, Roundabout- Are these all just songs for playing on the guitar?" He asked looking up at her.

"Well, you mentioned that you wanted to learn to play these, so I got them all transcribed."

"There's like ten songs in here! How much did this cost? Transcribing songs ain’t exactly cheap. When did you even have time to do this?"

"Don't worry about it. I have my ways!" A.J. said, a soft smile appearing on her face. Harris was about to protest when she spoke again, "Don't worry about it, Harris."

The two looked at each for a moment before he smiled again. "Thanks for the songs." He said, giving her a hug.

Juka grabbed her bag and before she handed it over to him, she said, "Promise me you won't get mad."

"What? Why would I get mad?"

"Just do it."

"Okay, I won't!" He said as she handed him the bag. He looked into the bag and saw what looked to be a black hat. He pulled it out of the bag to see that it was the black Stetson that he would look at whenever he passed by the hat store. The one that he asked Juka not to buy for him because it was pretty expensive. "I should've known you were gonna buy it. I was gonna get it myself!"

"Well, now you don't have to," Juka replied, taking a sip of her drink.

"I can’t take this..."

“Why not? Look, man. If you’re not gonna wear it, I will. If you really don’t want it, I won’t force you to take it. But if you do want the hat, take the gift. I mean, there’s never too big a price for one’s happiness,” Juka said, crossing her arms and sitting back.

He thought about it for a moment. “Alright. Thanks for the gift, Juka.”

"Of course. You gon' try it on?"

He put the hat on, and walked over to the mirror. He figured he looked good enough, a big smile appearing on his face.

"Get this man a horse!" Noah yelled out.

"Yeehaw!" Harris said with a laugh.

"Good to see that you like my gift," Juka said, amused.

"It's a nice hat! Is this why you have so many hats, A.J.?" He asked, fixing his hair in the mirror.

"No, I just have a problem. Don't get into hat collecting. You will not get out," She warned him.

"This is a really good quality hat. I might just wear it all the time now."

"Yeah, alright, Cowboy. Actually, I’ll just call you that from now on if you decide to always wear the hat," Juka said to him as she went to get another drink from the table.

"I probably will, too, honestly," Noah added, which caused A.J. and Adelay to nod in agreement.

"Sure, alright," Harris replied, sitting back down.

"Hey, let me try on the hat!" Adelay signed, which caused Harris to grab his hat and hold it close.

"Hey, can I at least wear it once? Lemme break it in a bit!" He told her, which she seemed content with.

"Fair enough."

They spent the rest of their time playing games until Adelay and Noah said they had to get home. After cleaning up and exchanging goodbyes, Juka turned to Harris and A.J.

"Are y'all leaving, too?" She questioned.

"I probably should go. I need to get home before Nik and Lydia do," A.J. said, standing up and heading to the door.

"Okay. What about you?" Juka looked over at Harris.

"Yeah, A.J. and I can walk home together since her house is on the way," came his response as he also stood up, grabbing his gifts and packing them up.

Juka walked the two to the door and they all said their goodbyes before the pair left.

-----

"How much was that hat anyhow?" A.J. wondered aloud as the two walked down A.J.'s street.

Harris tilted his head in thought. "Eh, I wanna say it cost about 15 dollars or so."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "You were gonna spend 15 dollars on a hat? That seems a bit much, don't you think?"

"Didn't you spend 20 bucks on your derby?" He shot back, looking at the hat in question as it sat on her head.

"I literally collect hats!"

"You still spent 20 bucks on a hat, and I'm pretty sure you've done it more than once," He pointed out.

"... I've done it thrice, but-"

"Still done it," Harris said, a smug look on his face.

"Yeah, sure. Leave my hats collection." The couple approached A.J.'s building. "I hope that you had fun today,"

"Yeah, I did. Thanks for the gift," He said, giving her a tight hug, which she returned.

"Of course. Thank you for walking with me. Now get home before you get into trouble!" She said, releasing him from the hug. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See ya." He turned and walked down the street and she watched him walk down the street, his black Stetson standing out against the snow-covered sidewalk.

When he was far enough away, she found herself chuckling. "Alright then, Cowboy," she said quietly, before walking into her apartment.

#the warriors #the warriors 1979 #cowboy (the warriors)#kaleny's questionable quality fanfiction #fanfiction

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parkeraul · 5 years

Photo

the sweetest hello, the saddest goodbye | part 2

a/n: tshtsg is back by popular demand because some people wanted a closure and who am i to deny it? i wasn’t expecting so many feedbacks (specially on angst, i really suck at writing angst and this was so??? surprising???) & i’m so grateful for it all, it warms my heart so much. anyways, grab some tissues (extra tissues because i intend to earn more than tears from your eyes only, if u know what i mean) because this is gonna be a rollercoaster and let me know if you like it. by the way, wrap it before u tap it (yea bish u know what i’m talking ‘bout) — do what auntie ann says, not what auntie ann writes.

warnings: angst, drinking, swearing & smut. words: 8k [worth the wait i guess] recommendations: read part 1 to understand better.

Empty. This is how he was feeling. Up at the stage singing to a huge amount of people; alone at home with his thoughts messily written all over the papers — taking over every single hour of his day; among his crew on the backstage; regardless of the situation, he felt unfilled like everything he’s seeing is slowly turning black and white and dull. He noticed that this aching feeling was suffocating him in all the possible ways when he started letting everything pass by. He’s forgotten lyrics during the shows countless times, he’s forgotten to reply the messages popping up on his phone all the time, he’s forgotten even to eat properly sometimes. He’s forgotten himself somewhere lost but, worse than that, he’s forgotten about her.

But moving on is definitely not the place where he’s at right now.

He’s forgotten the little details, the ones that are printed on every page of his notebook so he can at least read about it and try to recover any memory, although all of this wasn’t as nearly as satisfying than remembering about those details vividly. Shawn came to the point where just having a slight piece of reminiscence would ease his stinging soul — the way her perfume and the scent of her hair mixed greatly together and used to get stuck on his clothes from the million times they used to hug and stay in there for a while, body—to—body as they appreciated the moment to keep quiet for a while, just enjoying the feeling of having their frames pressed against each other with a couple of caresses coming across his muscular back or a gentle head-rub right above the nape of her neck. The taste on her lips, incomparable and so captivating that he could keep his mouth on her for an eternity and write innumerable songs about it — every now and then he just rests his head against the closest surface and closes his eyes, searching for one of the times he had her splayed on his bed all to him, waiting for his red lips to love her body in that tempting way that only Shawn can because he takes his time to cover every inch with his mouth and hands over and over again until he earns desperation from her, an unstoppable desire to unravel underneath his body at the point she can’t control her shaking limbs. Her smile, her eyes, her sweet laugh and calming voice were all gone, replaced by the image of the tears streaming down her face when she last looked at him to walk away without promising to come back before he went insane. Insane might be right word to describe the state of his mind, he swears he’s nearly going crazy because it seems like it doesn’t matter what he tries to do, nothing’s going to complete him so perfectly like she does. Nothing.

The pub is loud and filled to the rafters, the strong beat of the music reverberating through the walls and the floor underneath his body that doesn’t sync with the rhythm. Everything’s slower, everything’s cloudy and meaningless but something made him think that a glass or two of whiskey would probably get him into it, consequently avoiding the annoying commentaries coming from his friends questioning ‘are you good?’ or ‘what’s gotten into you?’ and ‘are you still thinking about that?’.

Even if things aren’t the way he’d usually like — who is Shawn Mendes to negate a good party? — He’s trying his best to let this atmosphere hit him. Gradually, the song sounds nice, a drink leads to another and he tries to connect with the people around him dancing to the beat like the music has thrown a spell and everyone’s progressively giving in as he makes an effort to follow, eventually singing the songs he knows and loosening the tension on his body. Shawn feels comfortable to look people in the eyes, nodding towards the ones who knows him and smiling to the ones he’s recognizing from afar as he swallows his drink down his throat, not minding the burning sensation anymore. “’M gonna get another one. D’you want something?” He says closer to Brian’s ear, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. “Yep. Want you to slow down,” The redhead answers, handing him fifty bucks. “And some tequila shots, if you may.” Shawn laughs thinly, getting the money and pulling away from his friend to hide the money inside his wallet and fix his hair back, undoing a couple of buttons of his dark shirt. Finally that unavoidable effect of the alcohol. The hotness grazing his skin and turning it rosy, only able to be seen when perkier lights illuminated his frame in the middle of so many purple and red setlights shining through the crowd. He ignores what his best friend just said — it makes no sense to ask him to slow down and be funnier at the same time, he can’t perform both all at once — and makes his way to the bar with difficulty due to the many people blocking the way and the place going very brightened and then totally dark in a matter of seconds, increasing not only his confusion but also the dizziness upon his head. The journey to get their drinks is filled with hundreds of excuse me’s and mild touches, silently warning the people that he needs to move forwards and they’re on his way. Still tipsy, he manages to act kindly meanwhile his body submits to the laziness of his movements and leaves the sober-state behind somewhere among the public, approaching a chair in front of the counter step by step where he can sit down to wait for the drinks. “A glass of bourbon and... How many shots can you fit into fifty bucks?” He shouts to the barman, quickly pulling out his credit card. “Three shots, buddy.” The guy responds, typing on his screen to register the order. “Add eight more, please,” He could use some of these shots later, he thinks. “Credit card.” Shawn’s toying with the card, tapping it against the marble while the man before him is still giving away his request and setting the little machine in front of him. It’s all very fast and he doesn’t even listen to the barman after he removed his card and got his note. “What’s your table?” “Table 88,” He blinks rapidly, processing the things happening around him. “Thanks, man.”

It lasts almost three songs until he’s done with the glass he took five minutes after he ordered it, having the drink still at the bar and seeing the shots going to where Brian is standing along with the other guys. It’s almost inevitable to end up reserving himself at some point of the day, his brain asking for some time alone so he could think things again and progress from this looping of reliving his heartbreak that wouldn’t go away so soon. He wanted so bad to let her know that he’s entirely over that person from the damn song everyone’s made sure to remember him about in every interview, remember him how careless he was with the one person that actually matters the most to him. “Such a dick.” He thinks to himself and it happens literally everytime he’s on his own re-experiencing those bitter memories, it’s instant: a bad moment leads to a prompt chastise because he’s never going to forgive him for letting her escape through the spaces of his fingers for the exact reason that he had her on his hands, that’s something that she even dared to say sometimes shyly with her face hidden on his chest and he could never help but roll her over and kiss her face repeatedly, so happy to have someone who wore the feelings on the sleeve just like he does. They do fit together, but there was this huge pile of unsolved things standing in between and it was no one else’s job to disentangle the remained knots than his. It was so innocently unconscious of Shawn to keep going on like he was wholly recovered from that previous relationship and he caught himself laughing at his own actions after realizing how dumb he was, how stupid. He got way too blinded by that hurried wish of belonging to the girl who had to move past his hotel room door and ended up carried away to the middle of nowhere, having his frustration and guilt as company.

Some curious eyes were watching him and he decided to watch back, finding distraction on a few smirks towards him and all the bodies swaying from side to side addicted to the sound and some others were staring at him with their silhouettes standing still, a single pair studying his frame from afar and getting covered by the people coming across.

“We have the fate by our side, remember?”

A voice pops up on his head, his ears focusing on nothing more than this tone banging violently inside his brain as he props himself to stand on his feet, leaving the heavy glass aside on the counter. His vision is too blurry to process what is he exactly seeing and his head is also whirling, not helping him for a bit even though he’s blinking rapidly to brush it off somehow. A hand comes up to wipe the liquid standing on the edges of his lips, instantly flying to his shirt so he can fix the way he’s looking and give his chest a glimpse of fresh air to cool the boiling sensation of the alcohol. He tilts his head up, standing on his tiptoes and he goes from side to side in order to clear the view.

“If it’s supposed to happen, we’ll find a way.”

Shawn feels his knees failing and his throat drying, breathing heavier through his mouth, lips parted and he scrunches his eyebrows, wondering if he’s seeing things or if someone put an extra on his whiskey — and concluding that he actually just drank way too much but that answer doesn’t make the shape of her disappear. He’s not daydreaming, he’s not hallucinating.

“You gotta let me go, sweetheart.”

And just like this, her eyes leave his and she trails her way through the crowd, making it hard for him to follow her with his sight so he immediately moves. It obviously wouldn’t be easy. The excuse me’s are being said all over again, his soberness showing up for a moment now that he’s decided to go after what’s been driving him insane over the past months and ask for a chance to simply apologise if she’s not into hearing all the stuff he had put into new unreleased songs, saying goodbye to the rest of sanity that he had left. Through selfie requests and people pinned down on their spots, he rushes his steps and he’s not going to waste any more time on asking ‘please, can I pass?’ and mumbling thank you’s — it’s unmanageable but he literally acts like there’s no one else inside that pub than him and her, who’s reaching the stairs and climbing them rapidly. Shawn would buy her game with no complains, he’s a fool for this type of love-story and it’d be a wonderful situation to turn into poetry if he hadn’t so many people blocking the two meters separating him from the first degree.

Among twisted lines trailed by his feet and eyes peeking out every corner, he crosses the hall above the stairs after going up. There are couples making out, one or two people smoking and empty glasses leading to a semi-opened door at the very end of the corridor. He’s glad everyone else is probably drunker than he is, so he looks back when he arrives the door to rotate the yellow sign hanging on the door — hiding the indication of ‘Rooftop’ to show the ‘Interdicted’ behind it, soon stepping out of the dark place.

The roof is illuminated by the moonlight and occupied by some chairs and small couches distributed along the big space, the wind blowing colder as the sky could barely get dark by the moon so bright up in there among the stars and thin clouds. The lights of the apartments shutting down here and there, but not weakening the beautiful sight standing in front of that unique silhouette. Her hair is being blown lightly and so is the big coat covering her entire back until the beginning of her thighs and he has to stop himself from running directly at her; from approaching her body in the neediest embrace that he knows he’s capable of. “You know that hide-and-seek was my least favourite game when I was little?” He chuckles softly. As per usual, his unmistakable voice gets her vulnerable. His sweet tone, always floating between low and raspy to harmonious and joyful seemed to entice her and there was no turning back. Not that she wasn’t expecting him to follow and find her, but she needed at least two good minutes to settle down and think about what to say because it was certain that Shawn would hit her with questions and thoughts of his. She turns around; too shy to face him after what happened a month ago so she keeps on looking at her own feet, smiling to the ground and supporting both elbows on the balcony meanwhile he closes the door behind him. His nervousness starts to show up and it makes him smile too as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt to roll up the sleeves, revealing his tattooed arm and letting the air cool the parts of his body. “Don’t you have a tour to take care of?” Still staring down, she asks and she doesn’t mean to sound rude. For someone who barely has time to hang out, it’s a surprise to see him outside the studios and backstage. “I didn’t expect to see you here too,” Shawn jokes, knowing that this is what she actually meant. He hides his hands on the pockets of his pants and walks slowly towards her, not wanting to get near enough to scare her away — but dying to get near enough to watch the moonlight lightning up her face. “I have a few days off, just needed to distract myself… Get some air, do different things, you know?” Stopping two or three steps away from her, he keeps on waiting for her to look at him since that’s what he’s been craving for several days. “Yeah,” She mumbles, breathing deeply before tilting her head up and seeing that he’s closer than she thought he was — the signature chocolate-fallen-curl contrasting with the colour of his skin and matching his eyes at the same time, so locked on the shapes of her face like he had found her for the first time. “How’s everything?” “How’s everything?” He questions back, voice squeaking a little and he giggles. Like it isn’t obvious. “Everything’s been terribly awful,” This time, his intonation falls an octave and his stride comes forward a little bit more and he surprisingly doesn’t stagger, gulping before moving on now that her eyes just founded his. “Everything’s been dreary ever since you left,” The wind hit them harder and, when she closes her eyes to avoid it, Shawn sees a teardrop moistening her eyelashes and her bottom lip being hidden by her teeth sinking down on the plump skin so fiercely. “You feel the same, don’t ya?” How can see right through her like this? It’s so unfair, she thinks, and so dumb of her to show such weakness this immediate. She opens her eyes and blinks quickly to dissipate the tears, sniffing faintly and holding her own arms to warm her body somehow, also to comfort her own shaky limbs instead of giving in and throwing herself at his strong arms. “I know you do,” He emphasizes and he’s 100% sure that he’s right. They’ve never broken this connection between them. Call him crazy, but he could swear that her heart is beating as heavily as his even when she was far away from him during this whole time — their respiration have the same hurried pace, both their minds work together like they depend on each other and it’s undeniable that their chest flutter with the same feeling. “Listen,” He starts, pausing to lick his lips and close all the space between them, the tips of their feet nudging as he holds his hands together to stop the urge of caressing her arms and pulling her to himself. “There’s so much I wanna tell you. Would it be okay if we talk?” She takes in the way he’s looking concerned at her, internally hoping he hadn’t asked for too much. “Sure,” She says and he looks around to find which one of the seats is the most comfortable. “But not here, ‘s way too cold.” Ending with a soft smile, she suggests and Shawn literally melts inside when seeing a happy expression of hers, even if it’s not fully sincere.

This sparkled something in Shawn, he wants to see more of that and he wants to be the reason behind her happiness. During the time they were walking past the stairs and the dancing bodies to reach the exit door, he begun to list all the important things he’d been thinking about to show her how sorry he feels for making her feel like a backup, for making her wait, for hurting her feelings and for not being the perfect guy for the perfect girl that she is. He doesn’t know how he managed to focus on her sat down beside him on the passenger seat and on this list at one go, but it worked for the time they were inside his Jeep driving to the apartment he got in Toronto with the radio turned on — so when there wasn’t a red light for him to stop and glance at her through the corner of his eye, he could rely on her tone singing the songs along in a timid volume. Shockingly, there wasn’t a tension. The anxiousness was certain, but the fact that they wanted and needed this moment got higher than any other type of intimidating emotions. It felt so good to be together again, even if it’s only physically speaking — they don’t know where this is going, there might be no reconciliation but being close feels right, feels like home.

At the elevator, he leaned against the cold wall and she turned to the mirror to fix all the imperfections (perfections, to Shawn) as his eyes burned all of her in a compelled stare. She’s too beautiful to be true according to his conclusions, too precious not to be held the entire time and too sweet to waste her time with someone who can’t treat her right. They kept on stealing glances here and there, earning smiles and sighs from each other like when she stepped inside the elevator on his building at their first date — when he took her to see the Christmas lights after dinner, and he’d tour the entire Canada with her if she asked to. He remembers being now exactly the way he was back at this day: heart beating faster, eyes glued on every action of hers with his brain electing all the emotions he needed to let her know.

The apartment is as cozy as she remembered. The couch is white, the view is still very beautiful and the living room is slightly disorganized. On the center table there’s a few pages sharing the space with a pick, a pen, a half-empty bottle of water and a mug. The window is open, curtains swaying as the wind invades the room and gives both of them chills. “Get yourself comfortable,” Shawn says, shutting the door close and locking it just in case someone decides to leave the pub sooner. She takes off her shoes to leave next to the door and walks bashfully; feeling the softness of the mat sprawled in the middle of the room under the wooden table as she sits down on the couch. He drops his keys on the counter of the kitchen and follows her with his eyes. “God, I’m sorry! What a fuckin’ mess—“ “We’re not here to talk about the mess,” She cuts him off, getting up to reach and grab him by the arm to join her. “We’re here to talk about something else, aren’t we?” “Of course, of course,” Being dragged by the arm, he lets her pull him and he tugs at his curls before holding her hand more forcefully, impeding her to sit down again. “You look pretty in this dress.” He smirks but not dirtily — on the contrary — it’s a grin filled with the purest joy. “Yeah?” Asking, she keeps standing on her feet and spins around with the help of his arm raising to whirl her by the hand. “This guy gave it to me on my birthday. Pretty cool, right?” “Awesome!” He chuckles, holding and caressing her hand while he dares to get nearer. “He’s got taste, eh?” “He wore Saint Laurent to the Met Gala so, yeah, he’s got a whole lot of taste.” They laugh simultaneously, allowing themselves to ignore the seriousness of this meeting for a moment. As they’re both people who hate confrontation, that feels like a good start before discussing things over. “Can I hug you?” With puppy eyes, Shawn asks her impulsively and she feels completely unable to say no. Tiptoeing to hold him by the shoulders, she snuggles in and he embraces her middle leisurely from the very edge of his fingertips to his palm, ending up trapping her with his thick arms. They both close their eyes and their breathing get calm. Their hearts, on the other hand, are beating insanely and banging each other’s bodies, their upper halfs pulsating from finally getting back to where they belong. “I missed you so much.” That’s all it takes for her to start crying. “Missed you too.” She murmurs, clutching at his body harder and the tears are wetting her cheeks. Shawn feels a huge knot forming on his throat, begging to be released in a cry and, holding her tighter, he lets it out. He can’t disguise if it’s from having her there against him, or if it’s the fear consuming him and reminding the possibility that she wants to go on without him, if it’s both, if it’s none of these things… It’s all very blurry but this torture has to end, and it has to be now before he goes madly insane. “C’mere,” He says, letting go of her partly to sit down and drop his hands: one to hold hers and the other one to wipe away his and her tears. “I… Well, first I want to apologise. I’ve been nowhere close to what you deserve, I was an asshole and—“ Shawn uses the hand that’s not holding hers to rub his face, covering his mouth at the end of it so his following words start to come out muffled but audible enough for her to listen. “And I know that nothing in this world can fix what I did to you. God, and I’ve tried — I’ve tried to fool myself and accept that this would never happen again but not for a single moment I found myself able to get you out of my head,” His hazel eyes are deeply connected with hers, occasionally dropping to see her lips parting and her eyebrows frowning in the pain they’re sharing of struggling so much to find a way to give this relationship the decision it needs. “What is this that you’re doing to me?” Questioning kind of angrily, Shawn seems to get more and more lost. He’ll never figure out exactly what gets him on his knees for her, it’s every little thing about the girl in front of him. “I can’t get you out of my mind. When I’m sleeping, when I’m singing, when I’m writing… You’re there all the fuckin’ time. I can’t… I can’t do something that’s not related to you anymore and you can totally tell me to shut the fuck up right now before I do something stupid, but I love you. I… Holy shit I love you so much it hurts,” He leans closer, moving a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and touch their noses and foreheads together. “And I’m not sorry for this.” It’s too late for her to notice his lips coming because it happens suddenly. About two seconds ago he was standing distant and now their lips are pressed against each other as both his hands hold her face with an urgent need. She lifts her eyebrows in surprise but doesn’t back off — instead, she brings her hands to hold his arms and feels his entire body trembling, holding back the cry with all his strength. Nothing else seems to matter now. They’re finally fading into the touch they’ve been missing so much and it feels so right and so wrong at the same time. He reschedules the thought of deepening the kiss for some other time, pecking her lips repeatedly and slowly at the same time, enjoying the tender graze of their mouths brushing together. “No one wants this more than I do, trust me,” She mumbles, sighing soon after. “But how am I—“ “There’s nobody else,” Shawn interrupts, knowing that he failed her trust. “It’s you. It’s only you.” “Shawn,” Nodding in denial, she tries to move away but his hold won’t let her. He doesn’t mean to come off impolite, but it’s practically unconscious. “It’s easy to say.” “Then tell me what do I do,” He looks her deep in the eyes, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. “Tell me what I can do to make you mine for a lifetime.” His words are a trap, cornering her and making it hard to avoid her most sincere desires. Her mind can’t form an instant choice and the only thing she knows is that she’s dying to say yes, as many times as needed. Too bad it isn’t simple like this, there’s so much to heal and yet a big lack of patience. “Just say the words, babe,” He sinks his fingers into her hair, tugging at it lightly to tilt her head back so he can have her mouth at his mercy right in front of his. “I’ll do anything if it means I’m never going to see you leaving me again.” He whispers, at the merge of sobbing as he feels his head starting to ache from the whiskey and the crying. All that he wants now is her. She’s the only one that can ease all the agony that’s taking over him. “Jeez!” She hisses, defeated and weak for him. “Shawn, I—“ “Stop me if you don’t want this,” He understands how difficult it is for her to put into words by the way she’s having issues to breathe properly. “But I need you so bad, babe, so bad,” Mouthing at her lips, he loosens the grip on her hair so she can relax and lean against him. “Let me show you how much I love you, how sorry I am…” And like this he descends to the curve of her shoulder, planting wet kisses up to her neck — taking from the base to the skin under her ear with all the passion he’s got. “Let me make you mine again.” She doesn’t wait when he reaches her jaw to move his mouth to the corner of hers, capturing his lips in a deep kiss filled with all the emotions burning inside their bodies. He holds the nape of her neck and her waist with strong hands, pulling her to himself as he breathes harshly, searching for all the air he can get to keep kissing her with all that he’s got. Shawn slips his tongue past her lips and she reciprocates, letting their kiss mix together at the point where she moves forward to straddle his lap and, before his back can hit the couch, he’s grabbing her by the back of her thighs and rushing to his room.

He doesn’t care to turn on the lights, taking advantage on the moonlight breaking through the window to see the bed where he puts her body down on gently to promptly get rid of his dress shirt without undoing the buttons — he holds onto the fabric and simply stretch the edges apart and pull it out from his jeans, throwing the now-ruined cloth away and kicking off his boots and socks. She’s still shifting her frame on his bed but he doesn’t waste time on lying above her after she takes off her coat to leave it aside, traveling his tattooed hand through the side of her silhouette covered by the black velvet dress separating the warmness of her skin from his graze while he finds her lips again. They’re devouring each other’s mouth, letting loud smacks fly throughout the room and she starts to grab his arms for dear life, encouraging to push his instincts farther, profounder on her, not stopping for a second to care about bruises and hickeys — it’s distractingly intense, dripping lust and an unstoppable compulsion to kill this distance with the love that runs through their veins; spreading an enormous heat all over their skin. Shawn traces her clavicle and presses his fingers down as they move to the thin strap of her dress, going under the piece of cloth and hauling it down her arm and immediately doing the same with the remaining strap. She’s tugging at his thick curls ferociously and he bites her bottom lip, pulling it to himself and watch it spring back in place when he releases it. They’re frantically inhaling and exhaling noisily, her arms coming back down just for him to expose the skin of her stomach and chest and flying back to where they belong: him. She’s squeezing the muscles of his shoulder as he goes down to attack her neck with hot and needy kisses, the curls of his hair tickling her chin and soon moving away with his head going down so he can mark her skin with suctions and love-bites, embellishing all the way from her throat to her collarbones with red stains turning into purple already and she can’t help but squirm everytime his teeth graze her icy body, getting lost in the way he’s consuming her entire being like it’s the last time he’s ever going to cover her middle with his skilled mouth. “Fuckin’ missed this,” Shawn mutters between smooches and bites, his hand everywhere all at once while her back starts lifting off the mattress as she shivers. “Fuckin’ missed your body all to myself,” With the black velvet on his hands, he keeps on loving every inch he started revealing while her tight dress was being removed, pulled down to her hipbones and then legs, soon joining his long-gone dress shirt on the floor. “Fuckin’ missed you, babe,” Hovering over her again after throwing her cloth away, he whispers close to her mouth and clings their frames against each other gently, not wanting to smash her with his front. It’s electrifying the touch happening in this moment, their touches stringing and giving them all the answers they’ve been searching for: this is where they’re meant to be, this is the right thing to do. “I love you.” “I love you more,” She whispers back, wasting no time on replying him and venting her aching heart out shamelessly. “Been missing you so much…” And she has no more space to speak. He smiles widely and brings his lips back to hers, overwhelming her whole body with a heated kiss. The pressure between their lips is perfectly added as they lock and unlock their mouths with more patience, tasting each other’s tongues lazily like there’s no tomorrow — and even if it has, Shawn doesn’t wanna leave this moment; he wants to stay in this bed and make love to her until the sunrise so he’s going to have an eternity fitted in these hours to make her moan and tremble underneath him as many times as he wants to, definitely keeping this night eternized somewhere inside his heart and soul, materializing this eternity. She needs more of this, so she threatens to inch closer and stand on her elbows but Shawn is quicker to press his palm down on her middle and pin her on the bed. They’re both breathing deeply into the kiss and he lowers to trail a long stripe with loud kisses from her cheeks — loving one side with his lips and grazing the other side with the back of his fingers; to her jawline — tickling the skin above it with his teeth, unable to hold a smile from this joy of being with her again; neck — switching between kisses, licks and suctions, leaving a curved line of hickeys drawing her sweetest spots; chest — pecking the expansion without leaving a single space behind as he drives his hand to her back, unclasping her bra and tossing it somewhere away so he can capture one of her nipples with his lips, fondling the other one with his index and middle finger while the other ones work along with his palm to massage her breast; stomach — applying a heavier pressure on his kisses in order not to tickle her and keep on taking away those low whimpers she’s giving to him, her skin showing goosebumps under his touch as he gives all the inches the love they deserve, the love they’ve been craving with his eyes fluttered closed, mind deeply concentrated; hipbones — feeling the curve of them against his swollen and wet lips and catching her underwear in between his teeth to pull it away from her just to release and let it softly slap her body, opening his eyes only to look at her utterly fucked and having issues to maintain her breathing patterned; thighs — covering the smooth skin with his mouth like he’s french-kissing like they’re her lips, heating the inner parts with his touch and not breaking eye-contact with her this time, his curls starting to fall down and eyes attentive on her; and her covered heat. She’s helplessly dripping wet and groaning, barely keeping her body in place from this torture. Bucking her hips forward, she meets his tongue coming up her pussy and a loud moan escapes her parted lips, her hands flying to his curls and grabbing the locks and punishing them between her fingers. Shawn embraces her thighs while watching her becoming a mess, grasping the sheets and looking back at him with desperation, needing him to do something, anything. It’s a wild dream that he doesn’t wanna wake up from. Holding her legs forcefully, he stops her from squirming too much after taking off her soaked panties. She quivers a little, feeling the colder air blowing her dripping core before he covers it with his tender tongue, licking boldly from her entrance to her clit repetitively — yet slowly — and attaching his lips around her bundle of nerves to suck on it, pulling to his mouth the taste of her that he’s been starving for ever since he realized the hurried urge to consume her body blooming inside his mind. She’s letting out broken sobs, nearly suffering from how delightful it feels to have her throbbing clit being caressed by his soft lips and wet tongue, making her go even wetter if that’s possible. Tilting her head, she sees the curve of his upper lip molding perfectly the beginning of her lower lips and her heart starts to miss the beats, she’s not sure she can take this amount of pleasure but surely wants to keep going at the moment he digs his short nails into her thighs and eats her out mightily. Shawn tugs the skin of her sensitive clit between his red lips and licks it devotedly to suck it more roughly, making her eyes roll to the back of her head as she gives up on the bed to finally let her body feel the moment relaxed against the mattress, the tingling sensation down on her entrance and knot on her lower stomach growing more and more messing with her senses. The noises coming from his actions are driving her insane, crying out his name like it’s the only thing she knows and God knows how much this is making his member get close to explode inside those tight jeans, also warming his chest and spurring his heart to beat agonizingly fast in happiness, love, relief and the other countless emotions that he’s not decently conscious to name. “Shawn, I need you,” She manages to say among the growls. “I can’t take it anymore, please.” Honestly, neither can Shawn. It’s speedy the way he gets up to unbutton his black jeans and pull it down with his underwear, his cock springing up and bouncing after leaving the constricted fabrics and she’s ready to get up and knee in front of him but when she sees, he’s already above her and grabbing her wrists together upon her head. “I just gotta feel you,” Sticking their foreheads together — with that obstinate s-shaped-curl between them — he lies down on her silhouette slightly to feel her temperature mixing with his. “Is that okay?” “Yes,” She pants close to his mouth. “Just please, babe…” He lines himself up, brushing his angry tip against her clit and entrance and moistening her with pre-cum, both their parts craving that first thrust going deep inside of her as he bottoms out almost immediately. It’s hard to suppress a moan so he lowers a little bit more, supporting himself on one arm besides her as the other one goes under the nape of her neck to grab at the hair upon it, lightly scratching when his fingers curls inside to hold her strands and tilting it back to expose more of her skin for him to descend and suckle that region under her ear with a fiery desire. “Love you,” She murmurs, scarcely noticeable and holding his face and moving it towards hers while she says it. “Not more than I love you,” He replies instantly and brushes their noses together before stealing a frantic kiss.

Now it’s all slow.

He pushes his hardened member back and forth deliberately, making her feel all his length millimeter by millimeter meanwhile they’re kissing unhurriedly. She moves her hands to his shoulders, taking a good handful of them whenever he buries himself inside of her completely and then traveling to his muscular back, scraping at it and leaving red lines along the expansion of his prominent muscles, bringing his body impossibly closer. When Shawn breaks the kiss is just to sink his cock strongly, in a deafening roll of his skin slapping hers, to groan stridently as he contorts his face in pleasure. The air seems to leave her lungs when he tries it again, doing it even deeper and tougher practically knocking the sanity out of her when he hits her spot with this much force. Her mouth falls in agape, eyebrows frowning and he looks at her doing the same expression, driving into her more and more aggressively, their bodies smacking and filling the room with that incomparable sound. At the same time it’s raw and rough it’s unbelievably delicious — every thrust of his sliding easily in and out and although it’s steady, it has a raced pace: he goes all the way in very fast and powerfully to let her tight walls hold his cock closely at the point it makes him go lightheaded, veins in his arms darting out and his hairline is getting wet but not for a split second he thinks about stopping. He only wants more: more of her back arching, more of her legs shaking uncontrollably, more of her nails digging into his back, more of her mewls and eyes rolling profoundly… “More,” Shawn hears her begging, promptly relying on that hand that was on her hair to use his right arm to grab her leg and bend it up, giving her a new angle. “Give it to me,” He’s rumbling and pushing ferociously, the hazel eyes never leaving hers as he hits her in every thinkable way. She starts to squeeze his dick harder and he starts to twitch, grazing her g-spot even more lusciously and he can feel his orgasm at the merge of washing him off. It’s so hard to hold himself when he’s gliding so easily, so deliciously that it makes both their heads spin while everything around them seems to fade away. There’s nothing else than their sex overriding them, there’s nothing else than their moans entwined in the most beautiful symphony and their highs exploding inside their bodies. She feels her entrance pulsating and he’s already low-growling with his raspy tone into her divided lips, filling her with hot ribbons that are fading into her orgasm following not long after and he collapses onto her frame, trembling and holding her as they try to recover their respiration. “Fuck,” He whispers, thrusting very slowly still. They’re wasted but he doesn’t want it to end, doing his best to respect her sensitiveness and suggest a round two at the same time, typical boyish grin highlighting his small scar. “Please, never leave this bed.” “Will not,” She answers, eyes fluttered close as she palms his flushed chest.

When the sunrise breaks into his bedroom with no further warnings, he feels the bright light trying to invade his eyelids and turns around to face the other side of the bed. He lazily stretches his arm to touch a body that’s not there. This is what spurs him to open his eyes. Eyelids lightly squinted, he eyes around the bedroom to find the floor clear like not even he stepped inside this place for the last 12 hours. The space beside him on the bed is perfectly made, the pillow is fluffed and free of any signs that someone had rested on there for the last night until now and he still has his dress shirt on with his black Calvins and only one sock on his foot. “What the fuck?” He mumbles, sitting and rubbing his face. This doesn’t make sense, there’s no way. How the hell she could’ve managed to sneak out without leaving a trail behind it’s a question that has no coherent answers. And it’s so not her type to go out and dress him instead of stealing his shirt to keep it to herself. Shawn tosses the blanket away and gets up to knock on the bathroom door and get no responses, flicking the doorknob open and finding the place just the way he left last night: his cologne is on top of the sink, his toothbrush in the right spot and the towels are correctly arranged just like the mat. He enjoys the moment to splash some cold water on his face and brush his teeth, looking at his own reflection on the mirror and seeing that his skin is normal — no hickeys, no scratches, not a single bruise or bite. His eyes are reddened though, kinda swollen and very tired. He takes long strides to the living room, where his notes are still above the black center-table with the bottle of water completely filled and untouched and the mug besides the pen. Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks at the whole room spinning in place and there’s not a damn indication that she’d been here. Maybe he was wrong, maybe someone did put an extra on his whiskey and the effects are happening just now. She has to be here, she has to be somewhere inside this condo. Shawn rushes back to the bedroom, grabbing his phone and searching for a message or whatever gives him a warning of where the fuck she’s hiding herself.

iMessage from Brian: hey dude. left ur keys on the counter last night and i’m gettin some breakfast n bacon to take care of this hangover. don’t die, brb!

Scrolling down, he sees nothing more than the usual. He scrunches his brows, opening his Instagram and instantaneously seeing a post from her in Toronto from 10 hours ago somewhere not even close to the pub he went to last night. She’s wearing the same dress he gifted her, though — hugging her shape dreamily and just from looking at it Shawn can feel the fabric in between his calloused fingers, and he smiles painfully.

Under the steamy water, he runs his fingers through his hair a thousand times like the rubbing would make his brain dissipate the clouds from his thoughts. Nothing makes sense, nothing fits, nothing belongs together. When he’s sitting down back on bed with his soaked hair dripping waterdrops onto his back and chest, Brian pops his head inside the semi-opened door of his bedroom with a cup of coffee on his hand. “Hey, man!” Shawn looks at him and silently allows him in. “Feeling better?” “Guess I…” He frowns, eyes focusing on nothing. “Did we smoke yesterday?” “No, dude,” Brian answers, chuckling lightly. “But it looked like you did.” “What’s that?” “You were yelling her name in the middle of the pub for everyone to hear and that was so fucked up.” Then reality shoves a punch on his face. Hard. “So fucked up…” It was all a motherfucking dream from the moment Brian held him and forced him into the Jeep to come back home. The tears were wetting his face crazily and he couldn’t stop calling out her name from that second to when his best friend put him on bed, so drunk and so fucked up. “This shit’s all over the internet, isn’t it?” Shawn asks, facepalming with both hands. “Chill, bro,” He hears Brian responding. “We got you out of there coolly, don’t worry,” He takes a sip of his coffee, watching his friend sitting down and feeling miserable, wishing he could do something more. It’s almost motherly the way Brian stares at Shawn. “Got you breakfast, c’mon up—“ “Thanks, man, I’m good.” “You gotta eat, bitch,” Brian says playfully. “I’m not really into saving your ass from another catastrophe that soon.” This time, Shawn laughs exhaling through his nose and gets up. “Thank you for yesterday,” They smack hands together and pull each other for a side hug. “I owe you one,” After they release, Shawn fixes his towel around his v-line. “If you don’t mind I’d like to—“ “Be alone, yup,” Brian winks at him, stepping out of the room. “Gotcha. Good luck, man. If you need me I’ll be at Ian’s.”

As soon as he hears Brian closing the front door, he finishes putting on his boots and unlocks his screen open to find a chat and press onto the voice recording button. Holding it, he goes to the mirror to pass his hand on his hair for the last time. “Hey, uhm… I know this is random but… Can you meet me down on Adelaide Street?” And even though the message hasn’t been seen yet, he goes to the kitchen to take his keys and drive all the way there.

And sitting down on his favourite café, he orders that meal he knows she likes to share with him while he tries to come down from the most gorgeous nightmare of his life, admiring the view from the ambient out there as he efforts his nerves not to feel empty anymore, expecting her to show up and fill his hollow being with the pleasure of having her presence physically, out of the mess that his mind has become.

He’s seen that she listened to his voice memo about an hour ago but didn’t respond. Shawn can’t stop staring at the chat wordlessly, gulping and breathing deeply before he’s snapped out of his own little world by a sweet-unique tone coming together with that enticing scent only he knew better than anyone else.

“Wanted to see me?”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes masterlist #mine #ficsofmine #SORRY THIS IS NOT WHAT U WERE EXPECTING

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sweetpea-skarsgard-blog · 6 years

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You Are My Electric Girl // Peter Parker Imagine

(( Hi everyone. I hope that this tickles your fancy. I just thought about an OC of mine, and Peter, so naturally this had to happen. Feel free to follow me for more. Requests are also open <3 Leave comments, reblogs and likes! They’re always so nice to see, and are greatly appreciated!))

Being the adoptive daughter of Tony Stark, naturally there came a time where you felt the need to walk right out the front door of the Avengers facility and see the world for yourself- without your father sending Happy with you. Sure you loved the man to pieces, seeing as he had been there for you ever since Pepper and Tony took you into their care. But damn, sometimes a girl just needed some space, and a teenager needed to be a bit spontaneous.Even if that teenage girl could legally be considered a weapon. After all, you had a mission.

It had all started about six years ago, before the battle of New York, when you had lost everything, your family, your home, and your old life- only to gain something that you had never asked for. Sure, it was your typical superhero story. You and your family living on the poor side of town, in an apartment building- when an electrical plant had exploded and wreaked it’s havoc on all of the people within a block radius. Your parents hadn’t survived.. No one had, really. But you- sitting alone in the desolate area, only to be found by Tony Stark himself who was looking through the aftermath with the firemen and police. The young girl- sitting without so much as a scratch on her.

Being a mutant wasn't all that it was cracked up to be- seeing as you felt normal, but were rudely reminded that you were not everytime the lights flickered when you got angry. Some would think that the power to control electricity was a gift- but really… most of the time you just felt like an overcharged battery- riled up and ready to explode if things got too energetic. It was the reason that Tony kept you home most of the time- Jarvis and the others being the best friends you could remember from that tender age when he’d found you. Steve was like an uncle to you, always making you smile, even Wanda and the others that you’d been pit against when you were fourteen were closer to you now. The Avengers were your big dysfunctional family.. And you loved every moment that you were with them.. Until- well the Civil War started.

You felt like a child of divorce, Your father and Steve fighting out their war about whether or not it was warranted for the government to be on your backs about what happened in Sokovia. Your father agreed.. But Cap did not- your own opinions put to the side because of your age- until like a child of divorce everything fell apart at the seams.

You had acted out, wanting to rebel against your father when the time came- Cap was right- or was he? You had no idea.. But everything seemed for naught.. Until you met him. Peter Parker. The Spiderman. Your father had recruited him, seeing as you’d slipped him a few videos about the idea. He needed hold to get Cap back- since you knew that despite his pride that was what he wanted.

But meeting the male- he was much different than you’d expected.. Spiderman? Spiderboy was more like it. You snickered when he walked through the Avengers facility with your father, looking at everything as though it was the greatest thing in the world. You’d feel the same if it was your first time seeing the tech that your father worked to create… but in his eyes- you could tell that he was pure. He was worth being on your team- and you found yourself wanting to get closer, despite what your father had warned you not to do.

“Hmm.. Peter Parker.. Spiderman.. I’m Y/N. Y/N Stark.” you told him, holding out a hand for him to take, before the man stuttered out a reply. “Oh- hey umm. Peter- but you already knew that.” he blushed, before awkwardly shaking your hand. You couldn't help but giggle slightly at his awkwardness… he was so - cute.

But that was a year ago now, and seeing as the two of you were the youngest Avengers, you grew close quickly. Peter constantly blushing, and you teasing him at every turn. Of course, he’d found out all about your powers, teasing you about them, which made him receive a small shock in response. A funnier moment was when he’d decided to sneak into your living quarters in the Avengers facility, scaring the crap out of you so badly that you’d actually tased him with a single touch. Of course you apologized vigorously, but .. Peter didn't blame you- only earning you the nickname ‘Sparky’ after all of that.

Now was different though- the closer you and Peter got, the more you found that your feelings towards him were growing- you’d loved him yeah.. He was your best friend. But there was just something a little less friendly about this kind of love. And it was hard to ignore.. Which was exactly why you’d snuck off to Queens to go and see him in his own stomping grounds.

‘Parker, meet me at the old warehouse xx’ you sent the message, smiling to yourself… you were going to do it.. You were finally going to tell him just how you felt. So make your way, you did. All the way across the busy streets of New York, lights flickering and surging as you passed them , eager to portray your feelings for the boy in any way that you could. But when you saw him at your secret meeting place, your heart stopped.. Why were you so nervous?

“Y/N? What is this all about? I was gonna go over to see Mr. Stark tomorrow.. But - I guess you just missed me, huh?” Peter teased, his cheeks blushing slightly as he looked at you, still wearing his Spiderman costume, since he was probably on patrol when you’d texted him.

You blushed and then walked over to him, crossing your arms in front of yourself as you looked him over. How could a suit made entirely out of spandex, bright red and blue- make him look so… good? “I guess you could say that, Pete.” you chuckled, before shaking your head. “I umm. I just wanted to talk to you for a while. I mean- I wanted to do it in person- because I was going to tell you over the phone but- it didn't seem right.” you rambled, pushing your hair behind your ear as you looked down at your ground.

Peter arched an eyebrow and looked at you, walking over and touching your shoulder gently, before taking your chin in his gloved hand, and making you look at him. “Hey.. is something wrong? You can tell me.. Don’t worry.” he told you, seeing your clear hesitation. Your breath hitched as you looked into his caramel brown eyes, making you bite your lip as you looked at him. He was so sincere about everything- the way he cared for you, touched you so sweetly and- he was your best friend.

You loved him. That was all that you needed to tell him. He needed to know that- because .. then it would be off of your chest, and if he didnt feel it back- well you could work on getting yourself over that. Clearing your throat, your cheeks flushed red, and you gently took his hand off of your shoulder, not wanting to worry him. “Gosh, nobody died.. I just.. I love you Pete.. I have for a while. And- I know that this is sudden, and I’m taking a risk with our friendship. God knows that I don't have too many friends- but.. With you things feel right. You make my days a lot better, and if you don't feel the same that is fine.. I can manage but.. I love you..” you said,

Peter just gaped at you in shock, his eyes widened and his hand gripping yours gently as he looked over your features. Was this the truth? Did you actually feel these things for him? Sure you guys played pranks on each other- but he knew that you would never be cruel enough to try something so dirty. No- he had to believe you. And he knew that he felt the same way. “Y/N…”

You freaked out in that moment, letting go of his hand since to you, his voice seemed far off and confused. God, what had you done? “It’s fine.. I don't expect you to feel the same I just-” but then his lisp were on yours, kissing you with closed eyes and a racing heart as the lights surrounding the two of you could have burst with the electricity. People spoke about feeling fireworks when having their first kiss- but.. This was something new- especially since a bulb literally burst, making you jump a bit and pull back as you looked up at him.

Peter had a goofy smile as he looked at you, his thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek, even if you couldn't feel his skin against your own with that glove on his hand. His hair was also standing up slightly from the static radiating off of you, making you blush and reach up to smooth it down. “You need to learn to be quiet and give me some time to speak.. Because i was about to tell you that I feel the same. I mean.. I know that I like you- and .. I’ve been dying to ask you on a date.. But you always just seemed to love being friends above all else.. I didn't want to ruin it.” Peter admitted sheepishly, shaking his head before brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

You needed a moment to process all of this.. Peter felt the same way? It was everything you’d ever hoped for.. But at the same time it felt too good to be true. Your cheeks blushed as you looked at him and nodded. “You should have bucked up then Pete.. I mean I did glitch out my dad’s tracking device on me just so that I could come here and say this.. And maybe I could have waited until tomorrow.. But- I’m glad I didn't.” You commented, resting your forehead against his, his curly hair brushing against your forehead, as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Then again- I guess it you would be the one to say it first.. Eh Sparky? Just like when we met.. “ he chuckled, moving down for another kiss, before the icon on his chest beeped, Karen’s voice sounding out. “Peter, there’s a problem on 22nd street. Carjacking.” Peter groaned slightly, and then moved back hesitantly. “Duty calls.. Heroes never take a break.. Right?” he pulled his mask on, and blinked to adjust for a moment, before he shot his web to the top of the old dilapidated warehouse, and jumped up. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.. I’ll see about planning a date or something- “ he called out, about to jump, before he saw the sirens and car passing by the warehouse. Hmm they were close enough- So he took a moment.

Peter jumped back down, holding the web with his feet, as you looked around, thinking he was gone, before his face popped up right in front of you. He quickly pulled his mask up so that his mouth was exposed, and then pressed his lips against yours, pulling back after a split second and vaulting himself up. “For good luck!” Gosh, what a goof ball.

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