In honour of NYE, here's a drabble featuring a post war phone call between Gale and Bucky on New Year's Eve:
“Bucky - you there, Bucky?”
“Gale?”
“Sorry, Bucky, it’s a damn madhouse in here, I can’t hear a thing. Hold on…”
Bucky winds the telephone cord around his fingers, heart thudding in his throat. Disbelief, at the voice on the other end of the line. He can hear a slight clattering sound, muffled chatter and laughter, and then the line goes a little clearer. Bucky clears his throat. “Got the uh, got the family round?” It takes him a moment to sound his old, jovial self. The gears are rusty, disused. There’s a slightly sick feeling in his chest. He reaches up, rubs his hand back and forth over the rough wool there, his jumper a little more worn than it had been last winter.
“House has been packed out since Christmas. Jesus Christ, Bucky, I got Marge’s family coming out my ears -”
Bucky huffs out a half laugh at Gale’s tone. He’s had a few drinks for sure. “What are you doing calling me?”
There’s a slight silence on the other end of the line. He can imagine Gale’s almost imperceivable rabbit-in-the headlights stare, the way his face will have flushed red. “I, uh - how was your Christmas? Jo have her family over or did you all head over to Nantucket?”
Bucky stares out into the dark expanse of his kitchen. He can see the lights from across the river twinkling through the windows. “Nantucket.”
Gale’s laugh rumbles down the line, and Bucky’s stomach clenches. “That’s a good call, John, I gotta tell ya. Ain’t sure we’ll have a house by the time Margie’s nieces and nephews get done with it.”
Bucky laughs, a slight pit opening in his stomach. “Enjoying the in-laws?”
“You could say that.”
Bucky can practically hear the sparkle in Gale’s eyes, the way his mouth will have pulled up in a little half-smile.
“Was it a good Christmas?” Bucky asks, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Taking in the familiar cadence of Gale’s voice.
“Yeah, yeah, it was - fine.”
Gale sounds distracted. Maybe a little agitated, talking the way he always did when he wanted to avoid a topic. Bucky nods, rubbing a hand across his brow. He tilts his head back, facing up towards the rafters. There’s silence down the line, just the familiar sound of Gale breathing, made staticky by the distance between them. Gale’s breath hitches.
“Say, Bucky, I don’t s’pose you’d be out this way anytime soon?”
There’s a note of something like hope in his voice. Fragile. Bucky feels his chest cramp. He takes a deep breath. Feels the sockets of his eyes begin to ache. “You know I wish I was, Buck,” his voice comes out low, softer than he’d meant it. “But I got a lot coming up with Jo.”
“Yeah, I - I figured. Think Marge is waiting for the wedding invitation any day now.”
Gale’s voice sounds a little strangled, as does the laugh he tacks onto the end of the sentence.
“Smart girl like Jo? Marrying me?” Bucky laughs, hoping the slightly bitter tone isn't audible. Then he adds, softer, “Well, you’d be the first to know anyway.”
Gale breathes out, a wash of static down the phone line. “I wish you were here, John.”
Bucky’s heart shorts out, then thuds into overdrive. He squeezes his eyes shut. Thinks of the days when they were cadets, or overseas. Before they’d had to grow up. Before Bucky had stood at the altar with Gale, and watched Marge walk down the aisle, radiant. “Listen, Buck, I - I gotta go, Jo’s calling me through.”
“Right, yeah. Of course.”
“Wish Marge a Happy New Year from me,” Bucky says, the lump in his throat sticking like glue.
“Of course - ”
“Bye, Buck. Bye.”
John puts the phone down, sinking down the wall to sit on the floor. He looks up at the kitchen windows, the vast expanse of starry sky beyond it. There's nothing to break the silence in this house. There are still strange gaps about the place, spaces where Jo’s things had been. There’s nothing to fill the gaps now. Bucky's throat aches, thinking of blonde hair, soft cheeks, blue eyes. He puts his head in his hands. He wishes the phone had never rung.
Hi! So i have this idea, also kinda inspired by the last request (cuz I loved the way it turned out) you do what you please with it🙂↔️
Five, after all he had gone through, finally got to figure his feelings out and realizes he wants to spend the domestic life he always craved with reader, after playing no strings attached, he just goes for it
𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞
five hargreeves x reader
word count: 1.5k
masterlist.
summary: after the universe was reset, you and five finally get to settle down and live the life you want
author's note: thank you for the request!! keep 'em coming!! this one i did rather quickly, and it's not as in depth as i like but i quite like it :) hopefully you enjoy
not proofread
One moment, you feel like you’re getting your soul pulled from you in one of the most painful experiences of your life.
Forced to watch as your partner and his family go through the same fate.
Their sister sliced open their father’s head, revealing him to be a green blooded alien robot, as you all were released from the source draining your powers from you
You remember looking over at Five as you fell to the floor.
He was your partner at the commission who you banded off with to stop the apocalypse. He had a makeshift tourniquet around his severed arm, the two of you withering in pain against the cold tile as you tried regaining your breath.
The two of you had gone through so much together. Far too many apocalypses for two elderly teens to handle in less than a month. You were both so stressed, being pushed and pulled around by the universe with endless complications. It seemed like every single day since you first returned to 2019, something had always managed to go wrong.
Yet, you always had Five, and he had you.
You kept each other sane.
You were exactly what the other needed.
Nobody really understood what you two were, but you definitely weren’t just coworkers.
There were so many instances where the two of you had gotten drunk, and either cried in each other's arms or passionately made out.
Whatever could distract the two of you from the unstoppable fear of failure.
That fear of not being able to save the world, save his family, save each other. It ate you alive.
It was almost as if you were the same person, with the same mind, you could understand each other so well, yet that didn’t mean you could read each other’s mind.
It was hard to tell whether your intimate moments together had any correlation to how he truly felt about you. You knew he loved you, as much as he loved his family. He was such a caring, selfless man. It always hurt to watch when his family overlooked how much he sacrificed for them, how they constantly blamed him. You made sure he never felt overlooked when he was with you.
His blue-grey skin horrified you. The wrinkles in his face, showing how close he was from death in that moment, utterly horrified you. His eyes, so much darker than his light green irises, full of suffering, was a sight you never wanted to see again.
Everyone pleaded with Allison as her hand hovered over the glowing button.
Once she hit it, everything went black.
~~~
The next moment, you realized you were standing.
You felt different.
Cleansed, almost.
You heard a ding and opened your eyes, realizing you were standing in a crowded elevator. It somehow opened up into a memorial park. The night was rainy, and you could hear the city sounds so clearly through the open air.
As everyone walked over and explored their surroundings, you scanned Five.
No more discolored skin, no more wrinkles, perfect eyes, and . . . his arm?
Before you could mention it to him, you heard Viktor break the silence first.
“Luther?” he said.
Everyone turned their attention to the elevator, as the now skinner Luther made his way out.
“You can see me?” he said excitedly as Viktor jumped into his arms for a strong hug, “I’m alive!”
“That’s not all, big guy,” Viktor referenced Luther’s new figure.
At this point, Five had realized his arm had returned, giving you a small wave with it.
You laughed with a smile before tugging him into a hug, so relieved you made it out alive once more. He wrapped both his arms around you as he dug his face into the crook of your neck.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you heard him grumble into your hair.
Before you could respond, Five was snatched from your grasp by Luther, frantically asking about his wife. Five reminded him about the universe being reset, which apparently wasn’t a good answer.
“Okay, screw this,” said Five before attempting to blink, yet he went nowhere.
Immediately looking panicked, he said, “Something’s wrong.”
Luther threatened him once more as everyone tested their powers.
Luther eventually ran off to find Sloane, with Klaus right on his tail.
“Peace out, bitches,” was the last you heard from Ben before he took off.
“What are we supposed to do?” Diego asked now that everyone was breaking off in their own direction.
You glanced over at Five to find him already looking at you. His eyes communicated with you in a language intelligible to anyone else in the world. When he held his hand out, you took it firmly.
“Live our lives?” Lila asked, unsure.
Once her and Diego walked off hand in hand, Five gave one last look to Viktor before he squeezed your hand and walked towards the archway, leading onto the sidewalk.
The two of you didn’t say anything at first. You could feel the rain land gently on your face, in your hair, on your sweater. It was the perfect, cool night in the city. The air was clean.
You could take a deep breath without feeling the weight of the world crushing your lungs.
There were zero expectations. No time travel laws you had to follow. No people you were assigned to kill. No countdown till doomsday.
You were free.
With Five’s hand in your, you quickened your pace and started running down the sidewalk. It took him by surprise but he followed your lead, letting you drag him down the block, without a care in the world.
The two of you felt free.
It was about time..
You stopped suddenly. Wet hair framed your glowing face as you panted, trying to catch your breath. He did the same, as he waited patiently for you to speak your mind. He brushed raindrops off your face, admiring your furrowed brow, showing you were deep in thought.
“Wait a minute,” you had realized something.
“If the universe is reset, where do we go? What do we do? I mean, there’s no academy anymore. There’s no record of us anywhere. How do we get a job if we don’t exist yet? How do we find somewhere to live if we don’t exist yet? We don’t have any money so we can’t afford a hotel room, we’re going to have to sleep on a bench tonight and it’s fucking rainin-”
He cut you off with a hand on your cheek and a swift kiss to the lips.
That definitely shut you up, but he spoke before you could even register what happened.
“We’ll figure it out,” he smiled at you, still holding your face, caressing your cheek with his palm.
“I don’t care where we go or what we do. But whatever happens, I want you by my side.”
You had never seen Five like this. So worry free, so genuine. He looked as though so much weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. You knew because you felt just the same.
Without a word, you kissed him once more, confirming your enthusiasm to live your new life with him.
You never would’ve thought settling down would be in your cards, but here you were, kissing your partner, Five Hargreevess, in the pouring rain.
As you pulled away, you laughed and asked, “Are you ready for this new adventure, Five?”
Of course you’d go anywhere with him, you’d even sleep on a park bench if it meant you would be safe in his arms. This didn’t mean you’d be too thrilled to be sleeping in the rain. He smiled wide, his dimples prominent, and took your hand in his once again.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Stranger Things - Fandom
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Platonic Nancy Wheeler & Billy Hargrove
Characters: Nancy Wheeler, Billy Hargrove, Ted Wheeler (mentioned), Mike Wheeler (Mentioned)
Additional Tags: billy hargrove deserves a friend, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, wingwoman nancy wheeler, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, I swear, Mentions of Karen Wheeler, Billy Hargrove & Nancy Wheeler Friendship, Nancy Wheeler Is a Good Friend, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, billy hargrove - Freeform, Nancy Wheeler Deserves a Friend, whos alive, Bookworm Nancy Wheeler, Bookworm Billy Hargrove, honestly one of my favorite hcs, Nancy is harringrove's number 1 shipper actually, no one knows what teds job is
Summary:
Nancy doesn't talk much to Billy, but she soon learns they've got a few things in common.
Small continuation of the NYE fic because of the lovely people in my inbox (previous parts can be found under the new year’s eve au tag on my blog):
It doesn’t hit Bucky until six months later, when he’s on the train home from visiting his sister. She’s just had her second child. A little boy called Freddie, who’d snuffled softly in Bucky’s arms, and held on tight to his thumb with tiny fingers.
The train car is silent, mid afternoon on a chilly day in late fall. The landscape beyond the window is burnished gold, flame red leaves clinging to the window every now and then before being buffeted back into the slipstream.
It’s creeping up on him again. That unbearable, restless feeling. His leg is bouncing under the table, his stomach twisting. He’s chewing on the ragged skin around his thumbnail, moodily looking across at the clock above the door. Four hours to go. Halfway to home.
The feeling has been building in Bucky for months, a thick pulse beneath his skin. An intensification of the sick feeling of dread he’d felt as he pulled the green blanket up the little bed in Gale’s attic for the last time, before picking up his suitcase.
Bucky sighs, tapping his fingers restlessly against the narrow table in front of him. Gale’s called him since. More than once. Bucky’s heart had melted beneath his ribs at the sound of Gale’s voice through the receiver, as reflexive as breathing, before pain sliced had through him in an overwhelming wave. Gale had just said his name. A little ragged the first time, almost pleading the second. Bucky had slammed the phone back into its cradle before he could hear anything else. He’d sat on the floor beneath the phone, drinking until the room grew dark and he couldn’t quite stand up.
Going to his sister’s had been a reprieve. A break in the endless waiting. But being there, a splinter in the midst of her happy home, had only served to calcify all the pain living in him. He’d lain awake in his sister’s guest room, staring at the ceiling, remembering the way Gale had kissed him in the rain back in Maine. His hands warm on Bucky’s face, his breath hot against Bucky’s lips. The way he’d held Bucky so close, as if he was terrified to let go.
Leaving had been hell. Gale had barely looked up from his breakfast when Bucky came down that morning. His shoulders were slumped, his posture brittle. Gale Cleven, strongest man Bucky ever knew, was shattering. And all Bucky could do was kiss Gale’s wife on the cheek, and walk out the door.
On the train, Bucky has nothing to distract himself, for the first time in months. Nothing to tear his thoughts from the memories of the plump curve of Gale’s lips smiling around a toothpick, his eyes lit up in delight as he looked at Bucky. Nothing to stop him remembering the way they’d leaned on each other, mission after mission, until they’d started to feel more like one being than two. And nothing to stop him wondering. What would have happened if he stayed in Maine? What if he’d stayed on the phone? Gale’s wedding ring glints in Bucky’s mind’s eye and he scowls as they pull into yet another station.
He’s exhausted when he finally steps off the train into the cool evening air. Eight hours on the damn thing. And most of it lost in a haze of memory, wishing that rainy moment in Maine could have stretched on forever. All around him on the platform, people are greeting their loved ones, reunited. Bucky stretches, half-heartedly thinking of stopping at the bar. A whistle sounds, and the train chugs away behind him. Then the platform is silent, emptied out. Last train of the night. And all Bucky wants to do is crawl into bed. Preferably with some scotch and a cigarette. He feels utterly emptied out.
The streets are quiet as he walks home, fallen leaves muting his footsteps. The pit in his stomach only grows as he passes endless warm, brightly lit houses. Sees all the hallmarks of family and love beyond the glass. He thinks of his own house, standing lonely up on the hill. Dark and empty. He doesn’t even think there’s food in the cupboards.
He drags his feet, a little out of breath by the time he reaches the top of the hill. But as he reaches his gate, he feels as if the air has been punched out of him. Sitting on his front steps is a man huddled in an overcoat, a suitcase set neatly next to him.
Part three of the New Year’s Eve drabble! [Part one and two]
Fic below the cut because there may be some smut in this one
Gale’s sitting stoop shouldered at the end of the bed, on top of the scratchy green blanket. Bucky’s heart is still hammering in his chest. He can’t quite believe Gale is here. He doesn’t look quite real in this light. The soft chime of the grandfather clock drifts up the silent stairs. Two am. Two am and Bucky is in Gale’s marital home. And Gale, sitting on Bucky’s bed, is close enough that Bucky can smell him. Can see the tiny hairs on his nose illuminated golden against the light. He looks smaller, so close to Bucky. Disturbingly human.
Bucky puts his hands over his eyes, rubbing them until they sting. Trying to make reality feel a little less slippery.
Gale just shakes his head, his eyes fixed on his lap. Bucky stares. Gale’s chest is moving fast, shallow inbreaths like he’d just come off the runway after a shaky landing. He raises his head, mouth opening as if he’s going to say something, then he drops his chin back down to his chest.
Bucky’s eyes trace over Gale’s profile, his heart thudding at the proximity. Gale looks miserable. And it makes Bucky ache.
“Y’always come check on your houseguests like this?” Bucky tries for a smile, keeping his voice low.
Gale smiles, an almost laugh. He’s always been the silent type but right now it’s freaking Bucky out. He doesn’t know what to do.
Gale’s hand moves towards Bucky, a brief flinching movement before he pulls back in. Then he reaches out, slower this time, and places his hand on Bucky’s thigh. His wedding ring glints in the light. He’s not looking at Bucky. He looks ashamed. Bucky stares, his whole body tensed, muscles locked into place.
Gale’s thumb moves in a hesitant circle, stopping for a moment before he repeats the motion. He looks away, letting his fingers wander, his hand stroking the meat of Bucky’s thigh. Bucky swallows, his mouth dry, his face burning. His cock is throbbing, hardening up even as he wills it to subside. He’s breathing too fast, quick and harsh in the silence. He wants to move, to reach out. But he doesn’t want to scare Gale away.
Finally, Gale looks at Bucky, guilt in his eyes. His cheeks are pink, his pupils blown. His eyes rove from where his fingers sit, then drift higher, darkening as he takes in Bucky’s cock tenting the covers. His fingertips dig into Bucky’s thigh and Bucky feels his mouth fall open. Gale’s eyes meet his, and Bucky feels a jolt go right through him at the intensity he sees in them.
Gale makes a soft, tortured sound, and moves slightly towards Bucky. Bucky meets him halfway reaching for him. It’s shock, first and foremost, when Gale’s lips touch to his. But it’s electric.
Bucky swallows a sound that might have been a sob and reaches up to grab Gale’s face in both his hands. It’s intense; they’re both shaking. Bucky’s pulling at Gale’s thin pyjamas, pulling Gale on top of him. His body covers Bucky’s, restless and feverish. Bucky’s shoved the covers out from between them, and after some retless movement, Gale settles in place between Bucky’s thighs, his torso flush against Bucky’s, the heat and hardness of his cock catching against Bucky’s groin. Gale stills, letting out a shaky breath against Bucky’s lips. They start to grind against each other, pleasure sparking up through Bucky’s stomach as they kiss, slower now, less frantic but no less urgent. Bucky can barely breathe, choked by pleasure, overwhelmed by Gale. The little cut off, choking sounds he’s making. Bucky’s hands slide up his back, one settling in his soft blonde hair. Bucky’s pleasure is building fast, a cresting wave that he can barely comprehend. He’s tensed up like a coiled spring, trying to stay quiet.
Gale starts to move more erratically, rutting up against Bucky and gasping against his mouth. He buries his face in the sweaty crook of Bucky’s neck, and lets out the most tortured, stifled sounds. It makes Bucky feel feverish with want, thrusting up against Gale. Then Gale jerks against him, his breath stuttering against Bucky’s throat. A rush of heat goes through Bucky when he feels the wetness of Gale’s come slowly seeping through his pyjamas. He grabs Gale’s hips, thrusts up against him as Gale breathes heavily against Bucky’s throat, twitching slightly with overstimulation. When Bucky comes, it’s almost too much, his vision greying out, his fingertips twitching against Gale’s pyjamas.
They lie still on the bed as their breaths slow and the room grows silent again. Bucky doesn’t move his arms from around Gale. He feels dazed, his mind blank, fuzzy like static on the television. After a little while, he starts to pet his hand through Gale’s hair. Gale doesn’t move. It’s like he’s melted into Bucky’s chest.
When Bucky looks to the side and sees the time, his heart sinks. He clears his throat, his heart racing wildly. Still stroking Gale’s hair, he says: “You should probably go back downstairs.”
Gale shakes his head, refusing to lift it from Bucky’s chest. He’s shaking. Bucky can feel something hot and damp seeping through the collar of his pyjama under Gale’s cheek. His heart lurches, and he tries to lift Gale’s head. Gale resists, pushing his down against Bucky.
Bucky puts his hand gently to Gale’s cheeks and pulls him up. Gale keeps his eyes tightly closed, his face red beneath . His undereyes shine, moisture catching in the light, and his brows are drawn up in misery.
“Buck…” Bucky starts softly.
Gale’s face hardens, and he pulls away, moving to sit further down the bed. Bucky stares after him, utterly at sea. Gale buries his head in his hands, his whole body tensed, shaking. After a little while, the fight seems to go out of him, and he slumps forward a little, hands dropping from his face. He stares at the carpet, dazed, for a long time.
When he leaves, he doesn’t say a word.
⋆｡°✩₊☾₊✩°｡⋆ ⋆｡°✩₊☾₊✩°｡
Massive thank you to the people who came into my inbox with such lovely things to say about these! I appreciate it more than I can say❤️ Also! Anyone who sent in drabble prompts, they are underway🫡
Drabble for an au in which Gale and John are students sharing a flat:
“Christ, John, how much’d you have?” Gale says, relinquishing his grip on John and letting him tumble sideways onto the bed. John goes easy, landing with a thud on the crisp sheets, putting a crumple in them. He mumbles something incoherent, splayed out.
Gale kneels down at the foot of the bed, unlacing John’s boots with nimble fingers. He tugs them off, noting the hole in the toe on John’s left sock, where pink skin peeks through frayed gray yarn.
“What?” Gale asks, suddenly aware that Bucky has been incoherently burbling away, the words so vague they didn’t quite register as speech.
“…said it would’ve been better if you were there, Buck,” it’s barely a mumble, but it makes Gale smile all the same. Bucky’s face is flushed, his dark eyelashes fluttering slightly against his cheeks. His eyes look closed, but Gale can just about make out a glimmer of blue beneath his lids.
“Seems like you had a pretty good time without me,” Gale chuckles, hauling Bucky’s legs properly onto the bed, and leaning over him to sort the covers.
Gale stops short as he feels John’s hand close around his wrist, surprisingly gentle despite his state. He looks round, and with a jolt, finds John’s eyes already on him.
“I mean it,” John says, his eyes steady on Gale’s, his thumb stroking soft circles around Gale’s wrist-bone. “It’s always better when you’re there.”
Gale drops his gaze like he’s been burned, colour flooding his cheeks. He busies himself sorting the covers, tucking them carefully over Bucky. When he leans back, Bucky looks like he’s drifted off, utterly relaxed and splayed out under the covers. Gale smiles a little, his eyes tracing over John’s face. Strong and masculine, but with an innocence to it somehow.
Gale slips out of the room, fetching a glass of water and some aspirin. He reckons John’ll have a hell of a headache in the morning. He always does when he goes out with Biddick and that lot.
Bucky’s exactly as Gale left him when he pads back into the room, the scent of liquor thick on the air. He sets down the water and aspirin, and hears the sheets rustling. He looks round to find John lying on his side, gazing up at Gale. Gale’s heart flutters in his chest.
“Night, John,” he says softly.
“Night, Buck,” John says, his eyes still on Gale, his gaze soft, full of warmth.
Gale turns out the light and hears John sigh and nestle into the covers. He heads back to his own room, closing the door softly. He gets into bed, and sighs when he sees the time. He has an early class in the morning. He shuts off the light and closes his eyes, his mind full of John. The way his face had lit up when Gale had opened the front door. The weight of his arm around Gale’s shoulders, leaning on him heavily. The way his breath had ghosted across Gale’s skin when he’d spoken, whiskey scented breath making goosebumps break across Gale’s neck. The way he’d looked at Gale.
It’s a long time before Gale can sleep. His heart is going too fast.
If you have any prompts for drabbles, please send them my way! I’ve really been enjoying writing them recently - plus my laptop is broken right now, so writing longer stuff is out the window right now😭
New Year’s Eve Clegan drabble but this time not sad! For once I did not Whump That Man:
“John, it’s for you.”
It’s nearly midnight, December 31st 1948. The Egans, all together under one roof for the first time in six years, are sitting round the fire, drinks in hand. John frowns as his mother comes back into the room, the chime of the phone unexpected at this hour.
“One of your old buddies from the Air Force,” she says with a shrug, settling back in her seat.
John pushes back his chair, the worn wooden heels catching against the plush new carpet, and all but runs into the hallway. It’s cool out here, away from the warmth of the open fire. The contrast has John acutely aware of the whiskey warmth in his cheeks, the slight sway in his step. His tolerance has never quite recovered, after the months he spent over in Germany.
John closes the living door carefully behind him, and picks up the receiver off the side table, his heartbeat already pounding a staccato rhythm against his ribcage. “Hello?”
“Well, look who decided to come to the phone.”
Gale’s voice sends a slight shiver down his back, all the more so for having been away from him this last week. John grins, pressing the receiver against his ear. “It’s a long walk to the phone,” John protests, his voice falling into a relaxed drawl, never more at ease than when he’s talking to Buck.
“Long walk my ass, Bucky,” Gale says, his flat, low voice alight with a humour that most people seem to miss, but which warms Bucky all the way through.
“You want me to leap out my seat soon as the phone rings? Just on the offchance it's you?”
“Yes.”
Bucky grins, a slight, homesick ache in his chest. He winds the telephone cord around his forefinger, sighs down the line. He thinks of Gale, miles away in Wyoming, stuck under a roof with his family. He hadn’t expected to hear from him tonight. “It going okay over at your folks’?”
There’s a momentary silence, and Bucky’s heart picks up a little, his brow furrowing.
“Could be worse.”
“That bad, huh?”
Gale sighs.
“Wish you were here, Buck,” John says, sitting down on the floor. He leans back against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest.
Gale chuckles. “Yeah, Wisconsin sounds pretty good right about now.”
“Couple more days, we’ll be back in Washington,” Bucky says softly, his eyes flicking towards the living room door, still closed for now. He rubs a hand across his face, thinking of their house. Out in the woods in rural Washington, far enough off the beaten track to be left well alone. A house that catches the warmth of the sun, full of the combined scent of them, their shared memories. Sheltered under the towering trees. It’s strange to think of it lying empty in the dark, waiting for them.
He hears Gale sigh down the line. “Yeah.”
Bucky closes his eyes, and imagines Gale right here next to him, just for a moment. And then the door beside John opens, and he looks up to see his mother beckoning him back into the room, gesturing at her watch. He waves her away, mouthing that he’ll be through in a minute.
“Listen, Buck, I gotta go –” Bucky says reluctantly then stops, looking up at the grandfather clock in the hallway, which has just begun to chime softly. Midnight. Bucky smiles, full of warmth.
“Happy New Year, Bucky.” He can hear the smile in Gale's tone.
five and reader know they’re falling for each other and they’re both super touch/love starved but also don’t know how to demonstrate and give it to each other ? basically two awkward losers in love
𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝
five hargreeves x reader
word count: 2.5k
masterlist
summary: you and five have always been professional, even though you're the closest partners the commission has even seen. once the two of you go back to 2019, you find out how to ease yourselves into the relationship you both know is just right
author's note: thank you thank you thank you sm for this request, i literally just saw it about three hours ago and it gave me immediate inspiration. this might not be super exact to what you were hoping for but i did my best to stick with it!
not proofread
You had Five had always been far too professional for your own good.
The two of you first met when the Handler brought you both out of the apocalypse and shoved you into neatly steamed suits to begin your brand new lives at the Commission.
You and Five were the only two people left alive after the world had combusted in 2019, yet neither of you had managed to bump into the other while you wandered around for forty five years.
Initially, there wasn't any trust between the two of you, as well as curiosity trapped in private thought bubbles. Both of you wondered what the other’s experience was like.
Did they find it nice to have the world to themself?
Did they have an easier time?
Did they miss anybody?
When the Handler officially made you two partners and sent the two of you off on your very first assignment together, it was definitely awkward. So many questions, so little bravery to make them heard.
You wanted to ask him. You wanted to be friendly. Of course, the apocalypse life took a toll on you, so maybe you could bond over your unfortunately mutual experience.
But he looked so stern, so reclusive, so unwelcoming.
He thought the same about you, with your shoulders turned in and furrowed brow. He thought you just preferred to be private. He assumed if you spoke about your past you would freeze or shut down. He didn’t wish that upon you.
During that assignment, the two of you had to wait in a parking lot for your target to arrive. The mark would be dropped off in a rideshare vehicle up to an office building. Neither of you knew what rideshare was but didn’t think it really mattered.
As you waited in a rental provided by the commission, you didn’t have the radio to fill in the silence, you just sat and stared.
Until you finally decided, what would be so bad?
“Hi,” you turned and looked at him, giving him a wrinkly smile.
“Hello?” he responded out of confusion.
The two of you had indeed talked before, but only once, at your initial introduction, only shaking hands and exchanging names,
“How are you,” you tried to further the conversation with friendliness before he decided it was worthless and ignored you.
“I’m quite alright,” he nodded, still not smiling but he turned toward you more, seemingly interested in conversing.
A good sign.
“And you?”
Your smile grew a bit wider, “I’m doing just fine.”
This kind of conversation might be more commonly heard in a classic American diner, by two old friends in their elderly years, about to order their early bird special. But on this rare occasion, it was being said by two elderly assassins, at the start of the most valuable partnership in all of time.
~~~
For years, the commission has waited for a team like this.
After the two of you returned from your debut assignment, nearly missing your mark as you were so thoroughly invested about discussing your shared accounts with twinkies and their expiration debacle, the two of you immediately requested another task, which the Handler was thrilled to hear.
Once that task was completed, you received another, and another, until you and Five were so caught up in each other's lives you were almost the same person.
For once, the two of you found someone who could truly understand you. You always felt supported and valued in each other's company.
Somedays, when the work got hard, the two of you would take a well deserved day or two off from work, learning about each other's interests and aspirations, refilling your coffee mugs as you talked your day away.
Eventually, the two of you had come up with a plan to try and save the world. What was the point in having time travel powers and only using them once?
Of course, the two of you were scared, but with the support from each other and years of experience and preparation, you had faith in yourselves.
So you took on that last assignment to Dallas, Texas, where you would confirm John F. Kennedy’s assassination. Five’s journal was filled to the brim with math equations, one of which was believed to be the correct one to bring you back to his family in 2019, giving you enough time to stop the apocalypse.
The two of you mustered up as much of your energy as you could and combined it into a glowing blue portal, where you could see a group of people standing in a courtyard.
As you and Five pushed through, you could feel everything change, your clothes felt looser as you fell to the ground.
Sitting up gave your head a spin, but once your eyes focused, they landed on a boy. This boy had dark, messy hair, with the same green eyes as your beloved partner.
“We did it!” you were so overjoyed and proud of yourselves that you tossed your arms around him and encapsulated him in a strong hug.
He returned the hug with just as much joy, never feeling so gratified by someone’s actions.
Even though the two of you had never hugged before, it felt so right.
“Does anyone else see little Number Five or is that just me?”
The voice snapped the two of you out of your moment as you both turned your heads to the group of adults, staring at the two teens huddled together in the mud.
You both looked back at each other, then down at the close distance between you, and muttered apologies as you both let go with a flush. He quickly stood up, lent a hand to assist you, and the two of you headed inside with a couple feet between you.
~~~
You didn’t talk much to his family when you were downstairs, you mostly just watched Five as he explained with little patience everything he decided his family needed to know at the moment. He did gain some valuable information, the date was March 24th, 2019, giving you eight days to figure out a way to save the world.
You were currently standing in the middle of his room, not entirely sure what to do. You didn’t want to touch or disturb anything, you knew how he likes his things a certain way, so you just stood there and waited for him to return.
He suddenly blinked back, trying to keep the skirt, sweater vest, blazer, tie, socks, and shoes all from falling out of his arms.
“The only clothes we have here that’ll fit us right now is the uniform,” he said as lied each item neatly on his bed for you.
“They’re my sister’s but I’m sure she won’t mind you borrowing them,” he turned to face you.
You had only seen what his younger self looked like in his file at the Commission. Initially, you hadn’t seen the resemblance between the bright, sophomoric, superpowered child and the tired, sarcastic, coffee-powered old man. But now, it’s almost as though you can see Five’s past through his eyes. That old grump you know and love hides behind those green irises.
Wait love?
You were snapped out of your daze when you realized his eyes were staring right back in yours.
“I’ll let you change in here, I’ll be just across the hall. We can meet in the hallway when we're done,” he said, cheeks a little pink and avoided eye contact.
You nodded and he blinked out of the room, but before you started changing, you looked around, taking in the atmosphere. You had learned a lot about his life here in the academy, but being here felt a little unreal. His storytelling made you feel like you were there in his memories, it was nice to now see what his life was like.
When you finished getting dressed, you quietly stepped into the hallway.
Unaware of your presence, you watched as Five conversed with one of his siblings.
“So who was that? Your little girlfriend?”
“No, she’s my partner,” Five scowled, his back away from you.
“Oh, like your life partner! You’re married! Yay! Ring the church bells!” his sibling said excitedly, waving his hands in the air.
Five face palmed and turned to you, wide eyed and fully red in the face at this point.
“You must be Klaus,” you awkwardly started, not really sure how to enter the conversation.
“Yes ma’am, welcome to the family,” he smirked as tugged you in for a big bear hug before releasing you and strutting off without another word.
Of course the two of you had dealt with romantic implications before, but back then you two were mature adults and could handle it professionally. Now, you were prepubescent teens who turned pink at the mere thought of someone they liked.
But two of you stood there, silently watching in his direction until he turned the corner.
~~~
It had been well over 24 hours since you had gotten any sleep.
Since you landed in 2019, you have met your partner’s entire family, gotten coffee, been shot at, tracked down the nonexistent owner of an eyeball, found Five’s old apocalypse friend, and got shot at even more. Only during the second shootout did you actually get injured.
Now, you were both dragging yourselves up the stairs of the academy to his bedroom. Him carrying Delores the mannequin, a kind, sophisticated woman, under his arm with the other around you to keep you steady. He himself was far too tired to blink, though he tried so hard to muster up enough energy every time he heard you wince.
You were exhausted to say the least. Blood seeped through your fingertips as you held your hand against the graze the bullet left in your shoulder.
Once you made it to Five’s room, he quickly set Delores down on the floor as he led you to sit on his bed. As soon as he blinked away, you fell back from your upright position and closed your eyes, unable to bear another minute awake.
When he returned, you could hear him run over to the bed and lean over you, grasping your face in his warm hands.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he pleaded, “Stay awake for me, please.”
You had lost a good amount of blood from the deep graze, but you knew you wouldn’t die. You just really needed some rest ever since Five decided it was better to keep moving than take on Vanya’s offer to stay the night.
Once your dazed eyes opened and met his, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, unconsciously brushing his thumb against your cheek, before quickly moving back to the first aid kit he had grabbed and sorting through its contents, gathering all the materials he needed for your wound.
He helped you sit back up so he could work. This wasn’t the first time one of you had to stitch up the other. In fact, it happened quite frequently as assassins.
But it never felt like this.
Usually you’d be making casual conversation, comfortable with the normality of the situation, and not thinking twice about it. This time however, neither of you spoke. He was focused on stitching you up as gently as possible, though he would catch you staring at him and watch as you looked away awkwardly.
He smiled slightly as he worked. He had grown to care so much about you, but he was always worried he’d ruin what he had with you. Overtime, he had become so used to you being the only constant in his life. The only one he could trust to share things with. Overall, he enjoyed how he could be so comfortable around you, he never needed a guard up when he was with you, but he never knew if you felt the same. But something about now made him feel like he might’ve been onto something.
“Hi,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.
You looked up at him, only to see him finishing up your stitches with a knowing smile.
“Hello,” you responded.
“You okay?”
“I’m better now,” you said, watching him as he carefully cut the string to your stitches.
He carefully traced his finger over his work.
“Tired?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah,” you yawned a bit, giving him a droopy smile.
“Well, let’s get you to bed then,” he said as took off your shoes for you and placed them by the foot of his bed.
After he helped you climb under the comforter, you waited for him to get ready to lay next to you but instead he stayed standing, with his hands tucked into his pockets.
“You can have my bed. I’ll just be across the hall,” he said, almost unsure as he made his way towards the door.
“Wait.”
He turned around expectantly, but you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say.
Would it be weird if you asked him to stay?
“I mean, it’s your bed. I- I can’t just take it-”
“No, no, it’s okay-” Five started.
“We could just, I don’t know, share it?”
No one moved. Eyes wide. Had you gone too far?
On assignments, you always had two beds when you were scheduled somewhere for more than one night. That’s just how it always was. The only time you ever came close to sleeping next to each other was when you had to spend the night in the back of a van, but that was a whole different story.
You didn’t mean to insinuate anything, you just meant that you wouldn’t mind sleeping next to him. You felt safe with him and it would’ve comforted you to know he was with you.
Five understood just how you felt, and climbed in right beside you without another word.
Sharing a twin sized bed meant the two of you were very close with not much room to roll over without risk of plummeting off the side, which you almost did when you tried scooting over to give him more room to get comfortable.
The other thing you could grab onto to save yourself from falling onto your back was him, as he also grabbed you to save you from falling.
The momentum pulled you snug into his chest, which made the two of you nervously giggle before you realize just how much you missed being so close to someone.
You felt it initially yesterday when you first hugged him. But now, the warm touch of another human was all you wanted to know. Subconsciously, you buried your head in his chest as he nestled his above your head. He hadn’t felt this safe in so many years.
You whispered goodnight right before you drifted away to sleep, your breathing regulating to a pace, letting him feel your chest rise and fall against his.
He kissed the top of your head, whispering goodnight into your hair, waiting a moment to test your slumber, before he whispered once more.
