drarry hc: Weird habits Or dancers AU Or the one where Harry loves watching Draco do the dishes Or or or Ahhhans
Draco didn’t need to turn around to know that he was being watched. The only thing he just couldn’t figure out was why.
At first Draco was sure he was imagining things, but in the weeks since they’d first moved into a flat together his suspicions had been wholly confirmed.
Harry liked to watch him do the dishes.
Draco couldn’t understand why Harry was constantly staring at him when he did them. At first he’d been defensive, snapping at him that first night that he could certainly do some things without magic and how Harry didn’t need to stare. Only instead of getting angry Harry had looked embaressed before mumbling something unintelligible and leaving the room.
A few days later he’d caught him staring and tried to make a joke of it, “Got a kink that involves yellow dish gloves and a sink of dirty dishes, Potter?”
Harry had just blinked a few times, before closing his eyes and disapperating with a loud pop so sudden Draco had dropped his favorite teacup.
Which is why, despite the fact that he can feel Harry’s eyes on him once again as he cleans up the remnants of the steak and kidney pie they’d had he doesn’t make any funny jokes or snide remarks. Instead he stays silent despite the curiosity burning a hole in his brain.
It’s a few weeks before the subject is broached again.
Draco is puttering around the kitchen, placing the dishes from tea in the sink when Harry comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing him in a firm hug. There’s something shaky in his voice when he whispers “Do you want to know why I like watching you do the dishes?”
Draco is almost too nervous to speak, so he nods instead. He’s almost afraid Harry hasn’t noticed his nod though because he doesn’t speak at first, but then Draco quite suddenly he feels Harry press the side of his face against Draco’s shoulder inhaling deeply before he starts to speak.
“I never thought I’d have this…someone to share things with like this. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were always so angry. She used to slam the dishes into the sink like she resented having to cook or clean for us, or she made me do them. I used to think that was just what family was like. Then I met the Weasley’s and I remember the first time I saw Mrs. Weasley doing dishes without magic…she told me she didn’t mind because it meant she had a family to take care of. You….you look like that when you do them; as if it’s not a chore. It makes me feel,” and at this Draco can feel Harry’s hands begin to shake. “It sounds stupid I know but….seeing you so happy even doing our dishes makes me think you’re happy with me. That we’re gonna make it. That…you won’t ever leave.”
Draco swallows, feeling like his entire world is spinning because they don’t do this….this talking about feelings things often. Both of them have always been better with actions than words. But for once he knows actions won’t be enough.
So Draco turns, placing his hand on Harry’s chin and tilting his head up just a bit so he’s looking him in the eye.
“I’m not leaving, Harry. Not ever. I want this life and I want you.”
Summary: The next morning (after the events of “Beard Burn”), Steve’s girlfriend returns the favor ;)))
A/N: this is intended as the sequel to Beard Burn! Yay! Look i finished something that i promised i would do! Thanks again all you beautiful people for getting “Beard Burn” over 1k notes. That’s crazy,,,
Warnings: all smut, some fluff. oral sex (mr), language
(I should have used this gif for the first one dammit)
The next morning, you wake before Steve, eyes fluttering open against the annoying morning sun; you’d forgotten to close the blinds last night. You groan and roll over onto your back, hitting Steve, who immediately wraps an arm around your stomach. You glance up at him, expecting to find him awake, but he’s still fast asleep on his side, one arm bunched under his pillow, the other now lazily thrown across your stomach. You smile and reach a hand up to run through his beard. He looked so cute like this, his mouth open, lightly snoring, eyes squeezed shut against the sun.
She is a living fire, such as I have never seen; incidentally, a fire that, despite everything, burns only for him. At the same time she is extremely tender, brave, intelligent, and sacrifices everything, or if you prefer, acquires everything by sacrifice.
Prompt: REQUEST COMING THROUGH! Idk if you know what a stick and poke tattoo is, but I was wondering if I could have one with Joon where he gives the reader a stick and poke tattoo? I know he’s pretty clumsy but I feel like doing something like that for someone who he loves he’d be super careful. (if not pick any other member i’m cool with all my boys). I just think it’d be something sort of intimate cos it kinda hurts. and then maybe it could lead to some sexy times? THANKS LUV U
Author: Admin Kaycie
Summary: “You know,” He began carefully, voice lowering as he leaned back over your body, pushing the needle into your flesh again slowly. “I’ve heard that for some pain can be an aphrodisiac…”
Tags: Mentions of Tattooing (needles, blood, etc.), Dirty Talk, Mutual Masturbation, Daddy!Joon, Baby Girl, etc.
Please note, I am no expert in the art of anything tattoo related, so please do not try to be rude if I messed up any of the details as far as that goes.
A/N: This is a request from a really long time ago. Haha, better late than never, I suppose…
He was mad.
You didn’t even have to look over to know he was angry. Despite the disappointment you felt in yourself at his rage, you couldn’t regret your actions. You were at war- whether Logan cared to admit it or not- there were going to be casualties. He might’ve called it reckless and stupid, but you risked your life for a greater cause. Most would call that bravery.
“If you want to say something, speak.” You sighed, readying yourself for the brunt of his anger. He didn’t disappoint.
Requested by @samascara Tommy falls in love with blind Reader. Warnings: Fluff, Angst. Hope you guys enjoy! Feedback is very much appreciated!
Note: I didn’t do much research for this Imagine, I also thought that in this time-period it would present more struggles for a blind person and their family than it would in today’s day and age. I figured the “reader” would need to have some sort of dependency on others – but also struggle with needing to be independent as well. Also, I kind of tried a weird point of view in this (I feel like it’s a little muddled but I tried to convey two inner monologues for two characters at the same time.)
You woke up to a loud commotion outside your window, screaming, shouting, some sort of loud engine, sirens and bells ringing urgently and steadily.
“Gilly?” You spoke up, feeling around the side of your bed for your walking stick. You felt for your sister in her bed, but only found the sheets and duvet to be empty – bed still made from this morning.
Gilly must have stayed out late dancing and drinking again. You shook your head and moved across the room to your door – but when you touched the door knob, a searing pain shot throughout your palm and fingers – causing you to let out a scream.
“GILLY?!” You yelled frightened, you couldn’t tell if you were bleeding or what even bit you. You put your uninjured hand against the door, an intense warmth enveloped it – you could only pick up the sounds of unknown objects shifting and shuffling on the other side of the door. It only took you a split second to realize that what you were hearing was furniture, walls and floorboard – crackling as the deathly heat began to overtake your flat.
The little boy was cold, freezing, as he roamed the darkening streets.
It wasn’t the weather, really. The air was
thick, the temperature high. It lay over him like a blanket, but he’d been cold
for months now, the shivers overpowering his little body.
By now, he was used to it. The biting feeling
at his limbs, the ice crawling up his veins. There was no warmth in his
thoughts when he remembered the bloody body of his mother. And the feeling of his
father’s hands around his throat was an ever present reminder of his own
actions, of the fire burning at his hands, of the eyes he learned to hate.
Long ago, he had been sitting next to the lake
near his parents’ house. A black cat purring in his lap. He had found it weeks
ago, its leg broken. Back then, he hadn’t known how to heal. How to twist the
power inside of him into something tangible. Still, every day found him next to
the lake, nursing the little cat back to health the only way he knew how. He
had felt warm then, watching it slowly learn to walk again, nuzzling its face
into his own. The trust between them had been instant, and he had only realised
later, seeing his reflection in the water, that they shared the same eyes.
Summary: The reader is Ravenclaw and begins to fall for Draco Malfoy but hides it well. Draco also then begins to fall for the reader by accident. Then he speaks to Blaise about it.
A/N: UMM I might make a part 2 because I feel like I could do more with this? Please let me know if you want a part 2 and if you don’t then please tell me too lols <3
She annoyed him. He acerbated her. Every time his egocentric character came into the room, she felt a despiteful burning in her chest, for she was one that always fell victim to Draco Malfoy. He would find a different thing to taunt her for every day; usually however it came down to her being pureblood. This perplexed people; never would Draco insult somebody for being the same as himself, except for when it came to her. He would usually call her disgrace t purebloods, as she was not a Slytherin. She knew there was nothing more contemptible than he- she apprehended the way he walked around, a type of swagger in his walk. The way he would scrunch his face up at anybody who was not a student in Slytherin. Worst of all, she noticed how he treated muggleborn students at Hogwarts. The Ravenclaw girl was always filled with contravention when she heard the slander ‘mudblood’ fall from his lips. Many times had her companions had to restrain her from hexing the boy. She knew much about his family, she had cogitated his entire family and traced back his bloodline, and delved into their political beliefs. Needless to say, there had never been anybody that she disagreed with more.
i think I already sent one in for the prompt thing (if you're still doing that) but can you either do 6 and 19 or 15 ? tq :))
Omg I wrote waaaayyy too much! Ahhh I’m a clutz!
Forgive me! (And thank you for the prompts)
6 - “Don’t you die on me”
19 - “I’m scared”
“FIRE!” Was the only warning Jeremy received before he was violently pushed into a wall by a group of stampeding girls. The party was thrown into chaos as more and more people began to notice the very real threat of a fire as the smoke from the next few rooms began to spread though the residence. Jeremy couldn’t think properly, maybe due to the abundance of teenagers pushing past him or the fact that he had just finished downing a few cans of beer after what had happened with Christine.
The Squip had turned on a few minutes after the incident and had immediately started shouting at him about his reputation, his image and his stupidity. After calming down, the Squip had suddenly felt the need to get Jeremy out of the house, to which Jeremy responded by getting drunk… again.
He wasn’t in the mood for the Squip’s antics and his attempts at getting Jeremy higher on the school map - and leaving the party at that very moment wouldn’t have benefitted him anyway. He had still asked out Christine and she had still said no. That was that, there was no point running from it - or at least, that’s what Jeremy thought the Squip was taking about.
Now, stood in the midst of all this mess, he knew exactly what had happened. The Squip must have seen a future in which a fire had started and told Jeremy to leave the building before it got out of control. God, if he had only listened. But now wasn’t the time for dawdling. Rubbish sudden sense of adrenaline, Jeremy pushed through the crowd and once everyone was through into the living room he shut the door tight, barricading it with a sofa chair. He tried to calm everyone down but it was no use, no one could hear him shout over the sound of screaming and mass panic. All the guests of the party were trying to squeeze through the tiny front door of Jake’s house which was clearly not working. At this rate, the fire would catch up to them in no time.
Spotting the large glass window through which he could see the party people running out of the house in panic, Jeremy grabbed onto the nearest throwable hard item and launched it at the window, smashing it instantly. The sound was enough the gain the attention of the majority of the crowd, now aware of the second escape route. Jeremy cleared out the remaining shards of glass before ordering half of the crowd to exit through there, an order they happily complied with.
Jeremy stood on the sofa, coughing into his cyborg costume as the fumes from the room next door began to seep through. He spotted Jake outside, dragging something on his shoulders and limping to safety. That something was clearly Rich, Jeremy could recognise that fashion sense anywhere. He knew that the girls had left the party early after the earlier fiasco with Chloe and Christine had left with Jenna to take her home safety. That meant that everyone was safe, everyone except…
He had left Michael in the bathroom after shouting at him earlier, calling him a loser under the influence of alcohol, lack of Squip and irrational thinking. God, what was he thinking?! That was his best friend for gods sake he needed to find him. He needed to know that he was ok.
Racing towards the door, Jeremy pulled out his phone and dialled the number he had memorised since childhood. He turned and watched the burning house as he ran out into the crisp cold. Everyone seemed to have made it out, which was good except… Michael wasn’t answering. Jeremy stared down at the blank screen on his phone, Michael always answered!
He tried to reason with himself. ‘Of course he wouldn’t answer, you called him a loser!’ Jeremy told himself, and it made sense. Michael had all the right in the world to be upset with him so of course he wouldn’t answer his call. He probably went straight home after their argument and was in his basement right now getting high. Still… what if…
Jeremy pulled up his iMessage and started typing frantically:
“Ok I know you’re still mad at me and you have every right to be I was an asshole and a prick and I deserve all of this but please just listen for a sec and text me back. It doesn’t have to be anything, just a blank message, a middle finger emoji I DONT CARE! Just- trust me when I say I really need to hear from you right now. Please Michael.”
A few minutes later, Jeremy was getting restless. The flames were getting bigger and bigger and there was no denying that everyone who could have gotten out had… but…
Suddenly, his phone lit up with the familiar ringtone of the Apocalypse of the Damned soundtrack, level nine to be exact. Their favourite. Jeremy’s heart did a double take when he saw the caller ID. His fingers immediately went to pick up the phone.
“MICHAEL! Oh thank god I was so worried. Something happened at the party and there’s a fire and I thought for a split second that… you… Michael?”
Michael wasn’t responding. All Jeremy could hear was a soft, crackling noise at the other end of the call.
“Michael!” He said again, a little louder.
Suddenly, a voice came thorough.
“Jeremy- can you… me?” It was faint, and there was barely anything there but Jeremy could recognise his best friend’s voice anywhere.
“Michael what’s going on? Are you ok?”
“…. it’s locked Jer-…. can’t…. closer-…. help me!” Michael sounded panicked and distressed, his voice coarse and rough.
Jeremy didn’t need another second to think. He ran back into the flaming building, ignoring all those behind him who were telling him that he was crazy, that he would die. He needed to save his best friend.
“Michael tell me where you are, I’m coming in.” He ordered down the line.
“Bathroom…” he barely heard over the flaming world around him but Jeremy knew exactly where he was; exactly where he had left him. Jeremy threw the barricade off of the door and buried himself and his phone in the cloth of this Halloween costume to prevent anymore smoke filling his lungs.
If the Squip was active right about now, he didn’t want to know what he would say…. he didn’t really care.
“Jeremy…” he heard his best friend whisper in his low yet soft voice, “I’m scared.”
Jeremy’s heart broke in two. He had never heard something like that come out of Michael’s mouth in all the time he knew him. Michael was the highlight of his life, the one good thing that got him through high school and yet he had never seen him without a smile on his face.
“Hang… hang in there Michael I’m almost at the door,” Jeremy tried to comfort his best friend despite the suffocating fumes around him. But he couldn’t hang up the phone, he couldn’t leave his best friend alone. He needed to save him.
Jeremy eventually came to the bathroom door. The flames had made the structure extremely weak so he knew that if he were to force the door open the whole floor might collapse.
“Ok Michael, I’m outside,” he said calmly despite the burning sensation in his lungs. He tried the knob, no dice. The door wasn’t budging. Michael must have locked it from the inside.
“Michael, you have to listen to me. You need to open the door, we need to get out of here now!” Jeremy yelled over the flames, hoping his best friend would hear him through both the phone and the thick walls.
He waited a few seconds until he heard the soft click of the door. Flying it open, he threw his phone to the ground and ran into the bathroom, cloth still covering up most of his face from the smoke.
Michael was slumped up against the wall, weak and dying. His eyes were closed and his hand was gripped over his hoodie which he had zipped right up to his neck to help him breath. Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat before returning to reality and lifting his friend up off the ground.
“Come on Michael, don’t die on me dude.” He whispered, hauling his best friend over his shoulder. Jeremy limped towards the window and smashed it open with his remaining strength, knowing the fire below was now too great for both of them to make it out that way alive. The drop from the bathroom wasn’t too bad, considering it was situated on the second floor. Jeremy could see a reasonable sized bush below which would break at least some of their fall.
“Ok Michael, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me, we have to jump ok?” He shook his best friend awake who barely responded with a brief nod. Jeremy could only take that before he climbed out the tiny window and threw himself out of the house.
Michael slowly opened his eyes as the voices all around him started to invade his mind. He didn’t want to, they hurt like hell, but he knew that he should. His whole body hurt too, he felt like he had just thrown himself into a fire. Ironic, once he realised what had happened.
Michael was lying on the concrete pavement just outside of Jake’s burning residence. The sounds of firetrucks sirens filled the air as the vehicles drew closer to extinguish the flames. The sounds of drunk teens also filled the air, telling Michael that at least most of the party must have escaped the fire.
He slowly sat up despite the pain, wanting to get a better perspective of the situation, but was stopped by a hand abruptly meeting his chest. He looked up to meet the bright blue eyes of his best friend, who looked just as worse for wear. His costume was burnt to the brim and his hair was disheveled and filled with ash. He smelt like smoke, a drastic change from the sweet vanilla scent that Michael was used to. Before he could say anything, Jeremy’s eyes started to fill with tears. He clutched onto Michael’s hoodie as he launched himself at his best friend.
The two sat there, on the pavement, embraced in each others arms. The rest of the world was a blur, it was just him and Jeremy. Nothing else mattered but him and Jeremy.
Request: “I was wondering if you could write a story where the reader meets Josh during a m&g and he instantly takes a liking to her w/o her realising it? Thanks! Btw your blog is my fav thing ever. (:“
(A/N): I hope I didn‘t let down your exceptions. Frankly, in my opinion this is one of my worsts works. Thanks for submitting x
You‘ve been standing in this never ending line for your favourite band for over four hours now. A fellow friend of yours was supposed to attend the signing hours with you but unfortunately, he has to work so you‘re all by yourself, surrounded by hundreds - or even thousands - of strangers in this malodorous and small area. Eventually, you‘re just one person away from meeting your favourite humans on earth face to face. At the beginning, could hear Josh greeting the two girls and Tyler‘s voice shortly after, because he‘s sitting at the very end of the table.
Before you know it, the girls have left and it‘s finally your turn. Your stomach knots up and your breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Your legs start to shake as you take unsteady steps towards the table. You‘re afraid you might trip. The only thing you could concentrate on, is the hammering of your heart against your chest. It seems to be pounding so hard that you feel like it will possibly break your ribs apart. You could not figure out wether it‘s the excitement of meeting your idols or the crippling anxiety that‘s causing your body to react this way. Your eyes are seeing the two men but appearing not to. It‘s almost too good to be true for your brain. Somehow, you manage to utter a high pitched “Hey“ as the security man pushes you forward, despite your empty burning lungs.
Anonymous said: Hi! I’m so in love with your writing omg! I was wondering if you could do jugheadxreader where they are dating and the reader is really into investigating Jason’s death and she finds out who the killer is but right as she’s calling to tell jug the killer hurts her to shut her up and jughead saves her and sits by her side in the hospital and angst and fluff. sorry it’s long, if it’s too much you don’t have to do it! Thanks again, LOVE YOUR WRITING
A/N: I loved the prompt idea! Thanks for the kind words and the idea anon!
You were close. You knew you were. You were just pacing back and forth in your room connecting the dots. You knew this meant something. Then it clicked. “He lied to Betty in the diner”, the words escaped your mouth. “That’s why it didn’t make sense”. You grabbed your phone to send a message.
Y/N - Hey, I think I know who it is.
J - Who “who” is?
Y/N - The Killer Juggie. Meet me at Pops.
J -Y/N, I told you not to do this without me.
Y/N - It’s fine, just meet me at the diner in 15.
It was a cold brisk night into the first week of December. At this point everyone had been a suspect. Even Jughead by Sheriff Keller.
You knew you were missing something until you overheard them outside the locker room. It all made sense now.
Your head was still racing as you were just trying to make it to Pop’s.
You were so engrossed in your thoughts you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings.
J - Hey, are you coming?
Y/N - Yeah, I’ll be there soon sweetheart.
J - I hate it when you do that.
Y/N - Do what?
J - Call me sweetheart.
Y/N - Ah but that’s what you are Forsythe.
J - I love you but please don’t use that name.
Y/N - Love you back. Be there in a minute.
You could see the glowing sign of Pop’s in your view. Suddenly you heard footsteps stopping in their tracks.
It was fine - you thought to yourself. You heard a shuffle of noise again, you looked behind you but didn’t see anyone. You turned back around and *wham*.
I was pacing back and forth outside the booth. Where was she? She said she was close 10 minutes ago….that’s it. I’m going to look for her.
I started to walk the route to her house until I saw it. Her phone on the ground, screen partially cracked. I saw a couple drops of fresh blood on the pavement. I didn’t see anyone or a car anywhere near.
“Kev? Hey. Tell your Dad he needs to get to Y/N’s house now”.
I raced towards her house hoping that she left a clue to what she found in her room on her own “murder wall”.
You started to get your sight back slowly. Your head throbbed in pain. You tried to touch the pulsating wound when you realized your hands were tied.
“I knew you followed me to the locker room. You figured it all out huh?”, the voice was familiar.
“Yeah I figured out that Jason wasn’t selling those drugs alone. And when you found out he was taking all the money with him as well, you killed him”, you didn’t have to make a guess anymore, you knew who it was in front of you.
“All from just giving Reggie that bag huh?”, Trev finally came into view closer to your body that seemed to be in some sort of chair.
“Yeah well you slipped up”, you were just trying to keep him talking at this point.
“When?”, his walk became slower as he also seemed a bit nervous in his words.
“Your “date” with Betty. You said you weren’t friends with Jason anymore after he started dealing. That you stayed away from him when he was doing that”, you winced in the small pain of your head while struggling with the ties around your hands.
“Ah. And when Reggie said he knew Jason had a friend to help but wasn’t sure who…”
“Yeah it all clicked. It’s why you left the football team too. You didn’t do it because of the playbook, you just didn’t want someone to ask you more questions. I have one though”. Again, just keep him talking - was all you thought.
“If Jason didn’t tell you his plan for Polly and him, how’d you know where to find him?” Your curiosity was in the back of your mind while you also hoped Jughead was looking for you.
“Something no one’s seemed to figure out yet. You know that old crazy kook Blossom? They never looked into her properties. She had an old cabin in the woods outside of Sweetwater. When I figured out that Cheryl was lying about Jason’s dissapaerence, I went looking for him. It’s where we originally had our stash”. You could see Trev reaching for something in back of him.
You were still struggling with the rope around your wrists but they were getting looser.
“What about the car?”, just keep him talking.
“Everyone assumed I was at the show watching my sister. It was a good cover especially since I knew what song they were going to play. But I followed Jones, Betty and you. Waited for you to leave and then had some help with the car”. He grabbed his gun out.
You were trying not to panic just yet, “FP and the Serpents?”
“Yeah I knew those bums would be on the Sheriff’s list and they needed to pay me back for pushing their product better than them. It was all perfect until today”. He opened the barrel making sure he had bullets inside.
“If you kill me, they’ll all figure it out. They’ll know I was close to something”, you were trying to convince him to do something other than what his nerves were telling him. You could tell he was contemplating his next move as he was pacing with his gun in hand.
“No. No they won’t. You didn’t get to tell anyone. I know you didn’t even tell your boyfriend. I looked at your phone before I dropped it there”, his pace was becoming heavier.
Good though. That meant Juggie had the phone, he just needed to figure it out.
“You really shouldn’t…”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
Your head still throbbed, but once again you were regaining your sight. You could hear a slight beep happening every other second or so. You looked at your arm and despite the rope burn on your wrists you had a small tube sticking out of it.
“Mom? Juggie?”, your eyes looked to see your mom sleeping in a chair passed out while Jughead’s ears perked up to your voice.
He was sitting right next to you holding your hand.
“Y/N!”, Jughead came to your head to kiss the top of it.
Your mom woke up to your name, “honey!” She grasped your other hand for a second. “I’m going to get the doctor, okay?” She gave a nod to Juggie and left to the door.
You tried sitting up a little as you felt a slight bandage on the side of your head. “What happened?”
“Well for starters, you scared the hell out of me”, Jughead’s voice wasn’t angry but rather just happy to see you were there. “Y/N, never do something like that without me!”
“Hey now, I didn’t know he followed me. Now what happened with Trev?”, your eye still twitched a little from the pain in your head.
“You almost got killed Y/N! He was about to shoot you when Keller found you. You were bleeding so much I thought he had already…” his words went silent.
“Hey hey, I’m okay Juggie really. I knew I just had to keep him talking as long as I could”, you grabbed Jughead’s other hand now.
“How’d you know?”, his hands were rubbing yours.
“He said he left my phone there. I knew you’d look at it and see that I recorded him, that it was one of my tabs”, your eyes watered a little bit as you saw that Jughead’s eyes were beating red.
“You’re lucky I’m smart”, he kissed you lightly on your lips.
“So what happened with Trev?”, your curiosity got the better of you.
“He’s in jail. They’re booking him on kidnapping and endangering you as well as Jason’s murder that he fessed up to. Kev’s dad shot him in the shoulder when he saw he was about to…” his words trailed again.
“I’m okay Juggie really. Alright sweetheart?”, your hands went to his face and you made sure his eyes looked to yours.
“I thought I almost lost you. I thought you weren’t ever going to even say “sweetheart” again. I love you Y/N”, his face was close to yours, as he was holding back tears.
“Hey, you’ve got me now and I’m not going anywhere. I love you too.” you dived in for a kiss. It was long and full of so much meaning, the soft subtle lips of Jughead’s trying to linger on your lips longer until he let them part.
“Okay but two things”, he gave a smile while now grasping on your chin. “Never ever scare me like that again”, he gave you a small peck, “and keep calling me Sweetheart”.
You smiled, and dived in for one more kiss. “I can do that”.
Keith knew it was common knowledge for the body temperature to drop during sleep; however, when he woke up to shivering limbs and chattering teeth, he figured this was different.
When he sat up and had to blink back dizziness stemmed from a splitting headache, he all but confirmed the worst: he was sick.
But, time didn’t stop for illness, so he pried himself off his bed and dressed for the day. Twice he was forced to stop when his vision began to swim, but he would brace himself against a wall and take in slow, measured breaths until he could see and think clearly.
While slipping into his jacket, he stepped out of the room and bumped into Lance.
Title: I’ll Do It All Again Pairing: Steve x Bucky Word count: 743 Rating: PG Warnings: none
Thank you so, so much for all the kind words. I am still very much screaming and freaking out about this series, but hopefully the screaming will diminish as the chapters keep coming.
Tag list can be found under the cut, and if you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI
II. Blessed Be The Boys
He swears his heart stops when he sees Bucky strapped to that gurney, eyes unseeing as he keeps repeating his name, rank and number. Or maybe it breaks, each repetition driving the cracks deeper until there’s nothing but shards remaining. Bucky, what have they done to you? His hands, stronger and bigger, more steady than they have been in all of his life, still tremble and fumble when he frees Bucky, wanting nothing more than to hold him close and make this place disappear.
It’s a twist in the universe, the inability to separate Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Where one would go, the other would follow. When Steve continued to be plagued by illness, Bucky would be there every afternoon, Steve’s homework tucked in with his own, always staying longer than he probably should, but never once catching any illness himself. When Bucky starts boxing, there’s Steve in the stands, the pen in his hand scratching quick sketches of figures moving in a complicated dance.
Sometimes, Steve wonders if the way they spend time together is… different. If the way Bucky’s arms sometimes slings around his shoulders is more than just a friendly act of affection. He’s know for some time that the way he feels about Bucky has started to transcend that of friendship, and it’s hurting him more than any of his physical ailments, because Bucky… Bucky is not… that. Steve’s hesitant enough to think of himself as something he doesn’t even dare put a word on, but Bucky? It feels blasphemous to even think of Bucky in thoughts adjacent to such labels. And yet…
Every double date he gets dragged along to, every Sunday breakfast they share, every bout of illness, it brings along with it those tantalizing thoughts of what if. What if Bucky would blow off his date and the two of them would go out instead? What if he’d have the courage to lean over and kiss Bucky in the quiet hours of the day they always have to themselves? What if in the face of uncertainty and sickness, he’d actually tell Bucky how he feels?
Those words and thoughts that have been bottled up inside him for years threaten to spill out the moment Bucky recognizes him. He’s prepared to tear down the whole building to get them out, to move them to safety, and when he soars over a flaming inferno, the only thing he can think of is the man following his flight with the same blue eyes Steve could sketch down to the smallest detail with his eyes closed.
He forces everything back under lock and key, because this is not the time. Marching back to camp is not the time. War is not the time. There will be an after. So long as he can keep them both alive, he can wait. The world will still be cruel, and Steve knows he’ll be putting more on the line than his heart with a confession he writes and rewrites every day.
“That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight… I’ll follow him.”
Steve thinks it’s the best he’ll ever get. He’s still convinced that if – when, rather – he tells Bucky how he feels, a happy ending won’t be guaranteed. For a while, he had the next best thing, and he’s fully prepared to let it sustain him for the rest of his life, however long that might be. He’ll follow Bucky for as long as he’ll have him. It’s worked out so far. The universe can’t seem to keep them apart. He’ll follow Buck, and Buck will follow him.
Until the tr-
His world rips apart, his nights are drawn-out nightmares of watching his best friend, the man he loves- slowly shrinking from him, every inch between them tearing at something dark and terrible in his soul. He never told him. The words are still locked up, and he can’t- He can’t-
People sometimes commented on the odd friendship. Bucky Barnes and that Rogers boy. Little did they know the grounding impact Bucky had on Steve, the tempering and calming influence that came from simply being around. His recklessness returns full force after Bucky falls, and as Steve steers the Valkyrie into the ocean, he knows it might not work. The world might still burn despite his sacrifice. And his last thundering thought:
Summary: In SHIELD you are known for your charisma and your irrational optimism. Specially taking in count the irreversible curse HYDRA condemned you with. Because of that, Director Fury has determinate that you are the best person to take care of Bucky’s mental state.
Chapter 9: Amonaliac
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Y/N: Your name
Warnings: (one?) curse word, heavy fighting (knifes, guns…)
A/N: The next chapter is finally here! I’m so sorry guys, I know it has taken forever. Hope you enjoy!
I back away from The Soldier, and Tony, and everyone. I knew this would happen, what did I expect? I should have been ready.
Through the door enter Nat, Clint, Steve and Bruce, presumably alerted by FRIDAY. Nat and Clint catch up with a simple gaze around the room, and with a few words form Tony, the other two also know what happened.
Bruce approaches me carefully and gently “Y/N. Can you hear me? You’ve been out for nearly ten minutes.” he takes a step closer “Please, confirm that you can hear me, Y/N, and we’ll take appropriate measures for what just happened.”
The room remains silent for a few seconds. I hear Bruce, but from really far away. Is he really talking to me? After a few more seconds of silence, Bucky storms out of the room like a hurricane. That helps me snap out of the trance. I look around for a second and then push everyone aside and run outside. The moon is already out, but I feel like cold air is the only thing I can stand right now.
Numbness. The feeling spreads through my body, making me feel like I’m floating in an silent, empty space. I can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or because of the flashback, but I practically stumble through the forest. I can’t seem to find enough energy in me to walk properly as the world swings in a blurred up reality.
That is, until I reach one of the deepest layers of the forest. Then suddenly a scream leaves my lips. It’s a rasp sound, like a hurting animal. I don’t know why I just did that, and I decide I don’t care. But then… then I start to feel fire slowly consuming my limbs, spreading through my body, eating away the numbness. A few seconds ago, I didn’t care. Now, I care too much.
The anger, the fire, spreads through my whole body, making me shake. I bite my lip so I don’t scream again, even though frustration is building up in my throat. My skin is burning despite the cold, and I start to run.
Back in the present, Derek bends down and picks up the broken phone, trying not to panic when he can’t catch a scent on the thing. He slides the shattered and useless husk of technology into his pocket for later and keeps going despite the burning itch at the base of his spine telling him to shift, to run, to find Stiles. The flipped coffee table and disjointed Christmas tree are enough to focus him. He can smell Stiles’ determination here as if it were something tangible. It’s strong, which is a relief. It means Stiles was alive when they dragged him out.