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#and i love Buck but he was squarely in the wrong
hamletshoeratio · 20 days
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The difference in how Hen and Eddie's cheating is treated/being treated by the fandom v how Buck's is... I wonder why...
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cogentranting · 2 years
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Rating Non-Disney Animated Horse Designs
I’m back by popular demand/well not really but my optimism’s grand
A sequel to my Disney horse Rating post for all the other random non-Disney horses. Dreamworks, Bluesky, random cartoons, anything I could find. Featuring: Altivo, Spirit, some Barbie horses, and a few abominations.
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Horse (Sing)
6/10 I don’t hate it and I feel like I should because it’s really hard to anthropomorphize horses that much without making them into the stuff of nightmares.
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Shadowfax (The Lord of the Rings) 
5/10 There’s nothing WRONG with him per se, but it’s SHADOWFAX. Lord of all horses. He should wow me, and he doesn’t. Check out Gandalf’s weird sock-boots though. 
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Hervé (Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper) 
-6/10 Horses' mouths don’t look like that. Horses’ mouths should not look like that. This thing wants to eat human flesh but can’t because it has two solid curved huge teeth with no physical  relationship with its jaw. Also this horse has the beginnings of male-pattern baldness. 
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Princess Brietta (Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus)
1/10 Her eyes are flat like they’ve been painted onto her socketless skull. And there’s something very off-putting about this shade of pink. 
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Beauty, Merry Legs, Ginger (Black Beauty) 
4/10 Ginger isn’t ginger. That is not a sorrel horse. There’s ONE requirement. Beauty’s the best of the three which is I guess what counts. 
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Hans, Klaus and Greta (Ferdinand) 
2/10 I hate them so much. The core design isn’t that bad but the way they move and pose is. No horse should make that face. The one on the left is stretched putty.
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The Grand Chawhee (All Dogs Go to Heaven)
I know what you’re thinking-- “isn’t that a mule or a donkey of some sort?” No. He’s a racehorse. Maybe a thoroughbred. And it’s his birthday so the other horses let him win. 
9/10
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Stella (All Dogs Go to Heaven)
1/10 She gets one point for being nice to Chawhee. But she’s clearly some sort of alien giraffe hybrid. 
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Odette’s horse (Swan Princess) 
7/10 Just a nice little palomino design.  
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That little shaggy pony (The Quest for Camelot)
12/10 Amazing. Look at the determination.
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Buck (Barnyard) 
2/10 See this is what that horse from Sing COULD have looked like. 
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The Horse in the Back, Not Klaus But I Couldn’t FInd a Better Picture (Klaus)
9/10 He matches his owner and I respect that
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Leah (The Star) 
4/10 This is horse is voiced by Kelly Clarkson. That has nothing to do with her rating, I just thought you should know. 
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(Starchaser: The Legend of Orin) 
8/10 for both. I have questions but I do not want answers. It’s better this way. 
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Fred (Over the Garden Wall)
7/10 don’t love that his head is a different color than his body in a weird way but he looks neurotic and fun. 
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The Chariot Horses (Prince of Egypt)
8/10 I’ve just always liked these guys with their square faces and fun hats. 
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Altivo (The Road to El Dorado)
7/10 Look at the little curl in his mane. Good personality. A little too much “Dreamworks Face” 
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Donkey in Horse Form (Shrek 2? one of the Shreks) 
3/10 Look at his face. I DREAD what he might have to say. 
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Esmeralda, Esperanza, Ernestina (Madgascar 3)
2/10 They’re coming for you. Coming to drag you into the Abyss. 
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Police Horse (Madagascar)
7/10 I like his face shape. Compare him to the Madgascar 3 horses-- look how much more identifiable as a horse he is. 
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Melvin (The Lorax)
10/10 He’s not a horse, but he’s so fluffy I love him. 
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Babieca (Puss in Boots)
4/10 This horse has dead eyes. 
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Onyx (Rise of the Guardians) 
13/10 She’s the leader of the nightmares and I would fully support her terrorizing the dreams of children. I’m pretty sure she and her mares ate the boogie man. A true Girlboss.
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Yi Min (Kung Fu Panda but I think just an online game) 
-20/10 Just from a design perspective there’s far too much going on so it’s hard to even make it all out. Also I would have zero idea that this was a horse if the wiki page didn’t tell me it was. It has split hooves? 
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Spirit Jr. (Spirit: Riding Free) 
8/10 Objectively I know the design is good  but my heart rebels against this show’s existence. 
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Boomerang Thomas Stone (Spirit: Riding Free) 
8/10 I’m not doing all the horses from this show but I had to throw him in because he’s cute and he has a middle and last name for some reason.
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Horse (Centaurworld) 
Why are there two distinctly different designs for her? This one gets a 9/10. The round one is like... a 5. All the other creatures in this show are eldritch abominations that will haunt me in my sleep now. 
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Esperanza and all the other horses from this movie (Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron) 
10/10 No notes. Perfect horses. 
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Rain (Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron) 
15/10 I don’t have a joke here I just really like the way they differentiated her and made her pretty without too much anthropomorphizing. I like that she has a roman nose.  I like her feather. 
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Spirit (Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron)
100/10 He’s everything. He shaped me as a person. No other animated horse can compare. 
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The Perfect Gentleman
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Spencer is the perfect gentleman for you, in every way that counts.
Square Filled: spiderman kiss for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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It’s hard to find a good man these days. All of your ex-boyfriends had something wrong with them in one way, shape, or form. Either they always thought of themselves, always put you second, or were total douchebags and dicks. You almost swore off men completely until you met Dr. Spencer Reid.
He is the perfect gentleman. He is nothing like what you’ve experienced before. He always puts you first, always thinks of you, and never has made you feel less than not even once. He made you feel safe and that’s all you ever wanted in a man.
The weather is nice enough to allow you to walk to your favorite coffee place rather than drive there. The street isn't too busy with cars but that doesn’t mean you’ll stop exercising caution when walking on the sidewalk. Spencer is walking on the left side while you’re on the inside of the curb, and you look at him with a smile.
The sun hits his face just right, giving his flawless skin a slight shimmer. God, how did you ever get so lucky to land a man like him?
You look behind you to see the street empty and you smirk to yourself. You let go of Spencer’s hand and make it look like you’re fixing something in your hair when you slow down enough to fall behind, and you switch sides with him so that you're walking on the outer side of the sidewalk, closest to the street.
“Ha, ha, very funny. Get back over here,” Spencer chuckles.
“What? I want to walk on the left side this time.”
“No, you’re going to walk on the right side and let me protect you. Come on, I don’t want to have to throw you over my shoulder.”
“Tempting,” you giggle.
“What if someone wants to kidnap you? They have easy access to do it.”
“What if they decide to kidnap you?”
“A beanstalk like me? Nah, only the pretty girls like you. Come on, get over here.”
You smile and comply with his request, getting back on the right side of the sidewalk. Spencer takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.
Even when he doesn’t try to be a gentleman, it comes out naturally. He is always looking for ways to make your life easier because he doesn’t want to see you overworking yourself. He loves you too much to see you put yourself through that.
Moving day is finally here. You and Spencer will be together without worrying about time or whether or not you have to go home for things. You two are moving into his apartment; nothing ever felt more right.
You got out your lease a month early and packed up all your shit, now all that’s left to do is take all the boxes out of the moving truck and put it inside his place.
He jogs down the stairs after bringing a box up and sees you struggling to pick up the box full of your books. You made it light enough for you to carry but not heavy enough to put it on a dolly. The only problem you’re having is picking it up off the ground.
“Nope, let me do this one.”
“Spencer, I am perfectly capable of doing this.”
“Darling, what if you trip and crack your head open on the stairs? No, I’m doing it.”
“Okay, what if you do that?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me,” He kisses you quickly and takes out his wallet. He takes out forty bucks and hands it over to you. “Call JJ and Penelope. I hear they have a new coffee shop in town.”
“No, I can’t leave you to do this by yourself.”
“I’ll be okay. I can call Derek if I need help. Go. Enjoy your afternoon.”
Again, how did you get so lucky to snag him?
Spencer always makes it his mission to make sure you’re comfortable no matter what you two go. It could be the briefing room or on the plane and he'd make sure you have a pillow for the flight or back support for your chair. It could also be him making sure your bath water is at the right temperature for a relaxing night in.
In order to catch the unsub red-handed, the team has to attend this elegant party that he is hosting. His MO is finding rich couples to lure upstairs where he’d drug both of them and strip them of all their valuables before killing them. Hotch theorizes that he’s here tonight about to do the same thing.
You and Spencer arrive at the party first, and you step out of the limo Hotch rented for you. If the unsub is going to think you’re rich, you need to arrive in a limo. However, you didn’t judge the weather properly. You thought it was going to be a lot warmer than it is. A shiver runs down your spine and Spencer notices goosebumps on your arm.
You’re wearing a royal purple strapless dress that goes down to your calves with a sequin lining on the outside. Spencer doesn’t think you can get even more beautiful than you are now.
“Here, take my jacket.”
He strips off his outer jacket before you have a chance to protest.
“No, Spencer, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you say even as he’s draping his jacket over your shoulders.
Damn, this jacket smells just like him and it’s warming your heart as much as it’s warming your skin.
“Take it. You’re cold.”
“Now you’ll be cold.”
“Don’t worry about me. I don’t want you catching a cold.”
It’s the way he said it that makes you want to cry out of pure happiness. He makes you so happy that sometimes, he feels like a dream.
One of Spencer’s favorite games is finding new ways to kiss you. He loves the traditional kiss but also loves Eskimo kisses, butterfly kisses, palm kisses, neck kisses, and your personal favorite, Spider-Man kisses. He never tells you when he’s going to do them because he loves seeing the blush on your cheeks whenever he pulls away from you.
“I know Hotch says he wants us to come up with a game plan on how to catch the unsub, but I think our resources are better spent finding his next victim. If we can pinpoint the kind of women he likes to target, we can be better prepared for when he strikes next.”
You and JJ are trying to come up with a way to stop this sunubs before he hurts any more people ad she is agreeing with your plan a lot more than Hotch’s. He’ll understand why you had to go this way once you catch the unsub.
“If this doesn’t work, I already have Morgan and Prentiss working on Hotch’s plan.”
“Thank you,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “Now, how should we go about this?”
Spencer walks into the bullpen with two cups of coffee when he sees the worry lines on your forehead. Hotch has been showing down on you recently so you’re just trying to do your best not to piss him off more than you already have. He sets both coffees on his desk and walks over to yours without letting you know he’s there.
When he gets to you, he gently grabs your hair and pulls your head back to kiss you Spider-Man style. The tension from your shoulders immediately dissipates and all that you can think of is Spencer. He knows you and JJ are working hard so he keeps the kiss short and sweet but nothing less than passionate.
When he pulls away, he sees the slight blush on your cheeks that makes him smile.
“I love you,” you whisper.
“I love you, too.”
Spencer always had your well-being in mind both physically and mentally. It doesn’t matter where you are or if you’re without him. He will make sure that you’re safe at all times because he knows the worst thing can happen in the blink of an eye.
You: I’m getting gas. Be home shortly.
You’re not even out of the car when you get a reply back.
Spencer: DON’T MOVE. I’LL BE RIGHT THERE.
At first, you’re confused as to why he’s coming down here when you’re almost home. Maybe he has something to give you and can’t wait? Did he forget something and need your car to go get it? Whatever the reason, you can’t sit at this gas station all day and wait for him to show up. There are people waiting to use the pump.
You leave your car and put in your card to pay for it when Spencer’s car practically comes speeding into the gas station. He parks off to the side, gets out, and jogs over to you.
“Did you speed all the way over here?”
“Get in the car. I’ll do this.”
He hates you already put your card in, but he’ll send you money for however much the gas is.
“What are you doing?”
“Pouring my girl’s gas for her. This thing is filthy and you can get sick. Or you can fall victim to a robbery. Or someone can kidnap you. Just sit back and let me do my job.”
He kisses you and takes the pump out of the slot.
“You drove ten miles from our warm apartment just to pump my gas for me?”
“Yes. Get in the car.”
You’d have melted into a puddle if it weren't so damn cold outside.
Spencer never once puts himself first because, to him, you’re his entire world. He takes care of what he loves and that would be solely you.
Derek had invited you two to a dinner party he and Savannah are hosting at their house along with JJ and Will and Kevin and Penelope. It’s a couples night which is why Emily wasn’t invited. Though, you did promise her a girls’ night tomorrow. She preferred to stay in anyway, so she’s not too upset over not being invited.
Spencer arrives at Derek’s house and turns off the car after parking it. You unbuckle your seatbelt and grip the door handle to get out when Spencer shouts at you.
“Wait!” You jump in surprise and watch as he gets out and rushes over to your side of the car. He fixes his tie in the reflection of the car’s window before opening your door for you. “M’lady.”
“Why thank you, kind sir,” you grin and grab his outstretched hand. He helps you out of the car and closes the door behind you. “Are you going to do this every time we go somewhere?”
“Why wouldn't I?” Years of broken boyfriends have wired your brain to think this behavior is weird. However, Spencer is starting to fix that. “Have I told you that you look absolutely stunning?”
“Every day,” you smile.
“Good. I don’t want you to forget it.”
How could you when you have a man like Spencer Reid?
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themorningsunshine · 1 year
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I like me better when I am with you
Masterlist
Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.
Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy
Word count - 2.8k
a/n - I had so much fun writing this.
Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.
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Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.
But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.
"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"
His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.
Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.
Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."
"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.
Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."
Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.
No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.
Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.
And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.
That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.
He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.
You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.
Maybe that's why she is friends with you.
That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.
Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?
Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.
The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.
You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.
Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.
This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.
You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.
"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?
Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her
Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.
"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.
Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.
Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.
"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done
"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...
"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."
Before it's too late
That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.
How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.
Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.
You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.
"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.
: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.
Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.
A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.
"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"
Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.
"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.
"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.
"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.
Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.
"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."
You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.
"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.
"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.
"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"
Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.
"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."
You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.
What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.
He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."
Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."
"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.
"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.
"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"
You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.
Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."
You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.
You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"
"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.
"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"
"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"
"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.
"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"
"That's literally his name."
"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.
"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."
"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"
"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.
You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "
"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.
"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.
"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"
Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.
Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.
Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -
All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.
He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.
When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.
"I want to be yours, Buck."
If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.
"You don't mean that, doll. You - "
"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”
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not-magdi · 5 months
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"Chocolates"
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Warnings: smut, 18+
Summary: You and Pablo try out some special chocolates
Word Count: 1k
Reading Time: 4 min
A/N
This whole thing is actually not my idea, it was @amaranthineghost idea so all credits go to her and her post.
Hope you enjoy it, love you guys Magdi <3
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Pablo's body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle in his body longed for her. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so turned on as he currently is. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he looked over at you, hoping to see the same effect on you.
He shuddered when he glanced at you and found you sitting on the couch, looking completely unbothered like these damm chocolates didn't even do anything to you.
When you saw a video of a couple trying out these unique chocolates, you knew you wanted to try these things with Pablo, too. You two have been trying out new things in the bedroom lately. Not that there was anything wrong with your sex life, but you two are young and want to experiment a bit.
As you first came to him with the idea, he just smiled and waved you off, not believing a piece of chocolate could have such an effect on him. So you ordered them and made a challenge out of it. The one who lasts longer has total control afterwards.
Still not believing these things work, Pablo agreed instantly. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated things, so he wasn't worried he had to give away the control tonight.
Oh, how he cursed himself for making this bet now. He was slowly losing his mind. It was only ten minutes since you split one of these little squares. Little beads of sweat collected on his forehead as his sweatpants became tighter with every second.
He thought you didn't see him struggling so badly, but you did. You acknowledged every movement of his, every little huff he let out as he adjusted himself again. You had a perfect look at him from your peripheral vision, your phone screen long dark, you only had your eyes on him.
You would lie when you'd say you weren't affected at all. The warmth between your legs was growing stronger and stronger. You were just better at hiding it.
Pablo, on the other hand, was close to exploding. Because you just had to wear his favourite pair of shorts you own and one of his old jerseys with his name on the back.
The images that were flooding his mind were everything but PG13. As much as he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Pictures of you on your knees before him, his hands in your hair as his cock was buried deep down in your throat.
A choked sound left his lips as he bucked his hips up into nothing to get at least a bit of friction.
Smirking, you sit up, looking into his eyes with a smug expression, "You giving up?"
His face flushes bright red, "N-no I'm fine, totally fine."
"Ok, if you say so." Shrugging, you lay yourself on your stomach before him. Now, Pablo had a great look at how good your ass looks in those shorts.
Groaning loudly, he finally admits defeat. "Baby, come here, now."
Smirking, you stand up and walk over to him, making sure to sway your hips while walking. Now standing between his legs, you wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance between you two.
Feeling her soft, chapped lips against his own made every muscle shiver. God, how he missed that feeling. Almost like an instinct, his hands ran down her spine and flattened against her ass. Applying some force, he urged you to curl your body against his.
Finally, having her sitting where he needed her the most drew a sinful sound from his lips. "You like that baby? Huh, you like having me in your lap?"
Pablo's grip on you got tighter, moving you gently on his dick. "Mhm you know I love it, Amor." He whispered into your ear.
You two continued to share passionate kisses as you gradually became less clothed. Now, only in your underwear, Pablo moves to go on top of you, but you stop him.
"Hey, you lost the bet. I'm on top tonight."
Letting out a huff, Pablo moves to sit up again and guides you on his lap. Both of you let out a hiss as your core brushes over his clothed dick. You start to brush soft kisses all over his necked chest. While your hand slowly moves downwards, scratching his abs slightly with your nails.
"Mhm, fuck Y/N!" Your hand finally disappears beneath the cotton of his boxers. Pablo sucked in a sharp breath as you griped him in and slowly started to massage him.
Pushing his underwear down his thighs, you climb up again after removing your panties. Locking your eyes with Pablo, you slowly sink down on his length, letting out a loud whimper when he is bottoming you out.
Pablo's hands grip your hips tightly while he leaves wet kisses all over your collarbones. You start to move gently up and down, increasing your pace gradually.
Your nails claw into his back as Pablo starts to thrust upwards into you, your breath hitching with every thrust. Arching your back a bit makes Pablo hit your G-spot with every thrust.
"Shit Pablo, right there!"
"Right here, baby? Yeah, does that feel good?"
Your words coiled in your throat. The only answer you can give are high-pitched moans right into Pablo's ear.
Feeling the coil in his stomach get tighter and tighter, Pablo reaches down to rub your clit. Wanting you to come before him.
Pablo's finger flicking aggressively on your clit was the last thing you needed to cum. Clenching hard around him, you release your juices all over his lap, squirming at the overstimulation.
Grunting loudly, Pablo feels your walls clenching around him and shoots his load deep into you.
You two bask in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms for a few minutes until Pablo picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.
"You ok, Amor?"
Cuddling yourself deeper into his strong arms, you nod. "I'm good, and I love you."
Pablo giggles and snuggles you into the soft blanket of your bed. You were always becoming a big softie after sex, and Pablo thought it was the cutest thing ever.
Cuddling himself next to you, he grabs you and snuggles his face into your neck.
"Goodnight bebé, I love you."
"I love you too."
----
Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️
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extasiswings · 1 month
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Okay, SO! In the category of "I think it's possible that Eddie has a brain tumor/is sick in some way":
Eddie is acting weird. Eddie has been acting weird from the beginning of the season, and I know there has been discourse about "it's just that we haven't seen him so happy before" but I respectfully submit that multiple things can be true at the same time. Eddie can be happy AND it can be out of character for him to impulsively drop everything to take a helicopter ride with his new friend he met two seconds ago to see a fight in Vegas (the last time we saw Eddie be truly impulsive I'd argue was S3, buying a truck while in the midst of a serious crisis). Eddie can be happy AND it can be out of character for him to ask his girlfriend of five minutes to move in (and I recognize that we were given an explanation from Eddie in the episode, but Eddie is an unreliable narrator and his explanation also doesn't totally square with what we've seen previously - him rushing introducing her to Christopher tracks, him jumping into moving her into his house without knowing basic information about her life does not).
Then there are the Eddie-coded calls. The guy with the alien hand who is all about rigid self control and being the master of yourself - his body turning against him not because the control failed but because of a blood clot in his brain. And now the guy with encephalitis (the same condition that ultimately caused Chim to hallucinate dead people), who has amnesia and has forgotten the marriage that ended in divorce but recalls the happy time before that when his wife was just his fiancee, the guy who was experiencing chest pains that he thought was a heart attack only for Chim to say he was having a panic attack. They had Eddie be so open about his own experiences with panic attacks and coping mechanisms in 7x01 for a reason - he's genuinely doing better with his own mental health and isn't ashamed or afraid of talking about his mental health struggles. But looking at these two calls, the underlying reason for the call (alien hand, amnesiac/presumed stalker in vent) theoretically could have had mental health explanations, but instead both resulted from physical ailments in the brain. [Tangent: I also think there's something really interesting in the potential callback to S5 and the way Eddie and Maddie were sort of mirrors - Eddie with a seemingly physical problem that was caused by a mental health issue, Maddie with a seemingly mental health issue that turned out to at least in part be the result of a physical problem]
Then there is whatever they're doing with ghosts. Shannon's ghost has lingered over the narrative and was actively put on screen in 7x01. For Chim in 7x06, the ghosts were hallucinations because there was something wrong with his brain. For Bobby, I'm guessing his arc with the burn unit nurse from his past will be more of a metaphorical haunting, bringing up any number of old ghosts (but I'm also going to guess his wife will be one). For Eddie...unclear. Ryan was filming with Devin (ostensibly for 7x09 but if they're doing anything with Shanon's ghost I'd be shocked if it wasn't introduced in 7x07, "Ghost of a Second Chance"), but she didn't exactly look like Shannon. Is she supposed to be Shannon? A dream or hallucination of a different or older her? Is she a real woman who just happens to look like her? If Eddie is hallucinating, then something is clearly very wrong. If it's a random woman and he's, idk, pursuing her in some way because he's drawn to her/the fact that she looks like his dead wife, that's still another point in the "Eddie is acting weird" column (because Eddie is a bad boyfriend and wasn't the greatest husband, but what he has never been is a cheater, even when he and Shannon were separated).
And then of course there's the will of it all. The will that Buck and Eddie haven't talked about since the shooting. Now, it's no secret I love the potential of a trapped dads experience circling back to the will, but I also think there is an argument to be made for a callback to "You're the guy who likes to fix things, maybe this isn't something you can fix." Because usually, when Eddie is in danger, Buck can do something about it, take some actionable step even if a futile one - he can dig through mud, he can drag Eddie's body out of the line of fire and into an ambulance and keep him alive. And for someone who, I would guess, still thinks of himself and the will as a backup plan/contingency, who if put in a trapped dads situation may not be able to stop himself from trying to save Eddie or, if necessary, sacrificing himself to do so, because in his mind, Eddie is Christopher's dad/who Christopher needs most, it is deeply compelling to imagine what happens if Eddie is in danger from something Buck can't fix, can't fight, can't save him from. And Eddie being sick in some capacity does that.
Anyway...I just think it would be Neat.
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holylulusworld · 8 months
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Triad (1) - Kinktober 20
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Summary: You are everything to them.
Pairing: Omega!Stucky x Alpha!(fem)Reader
Rating: Mature
Square filled for @stuckybingo (Round 5): Square O5: AU: A/B/O
Square filled for stuckybingo (Round 4): I4: AU: A/B/O
Warnings: future mmf relationship, established mm relationship, meet cute, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, scenting, needy Bucky & Steve, dominant reader, dom/sub undertones
Kink: Dom / Sub
A/N: I decided to turn this request into a mini-series. It will consist of drabbles telling us more about their story.
Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023
Triad masterlist
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It was an ordinary autumn day when you met Steve and Bucky for the first time. They went for a stroll in the park, holding hands as you passed them by.
Until then, they were lost in their love and bond.
That was until a whiff of their mixed scents hit you out of nowhere. Your head snapped toward the pair, and your eyes began to glow.
The omegas immediately turned their attention toward you and your scent. It had been ages since they scented a female alpha. The last one was Peggy Carter; the one that got away.
Bucky and Steve tried to find their missing piece in male alphas too. But male alphas only tried to dominate them in the wrong way in the past.
While being super soldiers, your omegas were looking for a soft dominant helping them to give up control.
Bucky was a little bold in the beginning. He purred in your direction and flashed you a cocky grin. Steve was a little shyer but followed his mate when Bucky almost pounced on you.
The needy omega tried to scent you without your allowance, and you had to stop him. A confident “stop” left your lips and Bucky stopped in his tracks.
He whimpered and rubbed his hand over his growing erection. Steve only looked at you and whined as you turned to leave.
You didn’t want to get involved with two bonded omegas. Polyamory wasn’t in your plans.
“Wait,” Bucky pleaded. “Alph-“ He bit his tongue as he looked at you.
“I’m not your alpha,” you replied and gave him an apologetic look. “It’s only your instinct, sweetie.”
He dipped his head to glance at your untouched mating gland.
Bucky licked his lips, already forming a plan to get you to talk to them some more.
“Hi,” Steve tried to make you stay a little longer. “I’m Steve, and that’s my mate, Bucky.”
“Bucky. Hmm…that’s an odd name,” you teased, making Steve chuckle. “A nickname I assume.”
“His name is James.”
“He is here,” Bucky grumbled as you talked to his mate, not him. “Now, uh-alpha…”
“Buck—” Steve gasped audibly. Not once did his mate call someone alpha. “You can’t call her that. We don’t even know her.”
The blonde tried to stop his mate from pouncing at you, still, he took a step toward you and sniffed in your direction.
“Stevie, she’s our alpha,” the brunette insisted. He puckered his lips and batted his long lashes. Bucky had the power to make you weak from the beginning. And he still has this power over you. “You can feel it too, right?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Steve took another step toward you. He tried to sniff in your direction again, but you raised your hand and stopped him. “I did not allow you to scent me.”
“Uh-sorry. You just smell so good, alph-“ Steve cleared his throat and wrung his hands.
For an omega, he was a glorious sight. Tall, with broad shoulders, and a thick beard framing his face he was all you want in an omega. Still, he had to earn his place next to you.
This time, you took a step toward the blonde. You sized him up and huffed. “I see no alpha ever tamed you, and your mate. You need an alpha making sure you don’t lose control all the time.”
“I’m not some puppy you can train,” Bucky complained, but stepped closer to you again.
“Sweetness, I didn’t talk about training you to become my puppy. But you almost pounced on me. A stranger. What if I had ulterior motives and hurt you or your mate? You cannot get lost in your instinct.”
“We are sorry,” Steve said, gaze dropping to his shoes.
“Hmm…” you turned your head toward Bucky to get a better look at him. He was a tall and attractive omega too. His blue eyes searched your face as he struggled to hold your gaze. “You need an alpha taking care of you. A good alpha knows how to handle two bratty omegas…and I'm a good alpha...”
Part 2
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Tags in reblog.
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megalony · 8 months
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Melting Away
This is an Eddie Diaz request from Anon, I hope you like it. Thank you all for the requests I'm trying to get through them they are all amazing and I'm on a writing spurr.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway
Masterlist
Summary: Eddie is excited to have another baby soon, but he can't stop thinking back to Christopher's birth and how traumatic it was. He doesn't want history to repeat itself.
Enjoy.
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"What you looking at?"
A pat to his shoulder brought Eddie out of his thoughts and he managed a small smile in Buck's direction when he slumped down on the sofa next to him. They had had a quiet morning so far, one call out which had been over and done with very quickly and after getting through lunch with no callouts, the team were mellow. Going about their tasks slowly and calmly and pottering about until the next call sounded.
Silently, Eddie handed over the small photo in his hand to Buck who slouched down on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table in front of them.
"That's so cool, how long you got left?" Buck traced his finger over the black and grey photograph Eddie had given him. It was his and (Y/n)'s latest scan photo that they got yesterday and so far, Eddie hadn't been able to put it down. It was all he could think about, all he could imagine and dream and picture no matter what he was doing or where he was.
That little picture was at the forefront of his mind.
"About three months,"
Three months, two weeks and one day until (Y/n)'s due date, if he wanted to be exact. Eddie was on countdown and his senses were on red alert. Obviously he knew they weren't likely to reach their due date or have the baby on that exact day, it was only a rough estimate. But the closer they got, the more nervous Eddie started to feel.
"Do you know what it is yet?" Buck kept his eyes on the picture that he twisted round in his hands, trying to decipher if he could tell what gender the baby was. He could see the outline of the head and body and the tiny hand curled up near the baby's face, but he was no doctor. Nevertheless, the small square photo captivated Buck just as much as it did Eddie.
"No, we don't find out, we wait until the day. (Y/n) likes guessing and putting bets on."
"Mate, I- don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look that excited. This is cool, it's a mini you. What's up?"
Buck was starting to know Eddie like they were brothers, he could read him and it was evident that something was wrong. There was something playing on his mind and it was dampening his mood. When Eddie told the team he was having another baby he hadn't been able to control his smile or stop himself from jittering anxiously on the spot. And whenever anyone asked him about his family he would light up the room and bubble over with information and love and pride.
He wasn't feeling like that today.
He leaned forward, arching his back over until his elbows were pressed into his thighs and his hands rubbed over his knees before he looked over at Buck. Silently, Eddie held his hand out and took the photo back so he could trace his index finger over the outline of his next baby. A fondness spread across his face and the trace of a smile quirked at his lips, but tears started to well up in his eyes.
"I uh, I never told you what happened with Chris, did I?"
"No…?" It wasn't something Buck thought to ask about or pry into, he was under the assumption that Christopher was just born with cerebral palsy like so many other kids were. He didn't think to ask if anything bad or specific caused it, Buck thought it was just one of those things that happened for no reason.
"Everything went smoothly until (Y/n) started to crown, it was good, you know? A full day in labour but she was doing great, we were at the hospital, didn't want a home birth. Then it all went to shit,"
Eddie started to rub the back of his neck and dug his nails down to scratch the skin and see if it would stop the anxiety from coursing through his veins. Since finding out (Y/n) was pregnant again, all Eddie dreamed about was Christopher's birth. He remembered every detail so vividly as if it happened this morning. It haunted him.
"As soon as we could see his head, (Y/n) started to bleed, I mean really haemorrhage everywhere. We tried to move her, get her comfy and stop the blood but then his head got stuck, he was in distress and we couldn't do anything. He tried to breathe while he was stuck a-and started to suffocate, when they finally held him his brain was starved of oxygen and he'd inhaled fluids. If we got him out sooner he would have been fine,"
He could still see the blood. It ran down (Y/n)'s thighs to her feet, dripped down onto the floor, coated Eddie's palms when he tried to move her and every medic in the room was lathered in it.
The image of Christopher's head was burned into Eddie's mind, seeing his baby stuck like that, trying to wriggle and breathe and get into the world but he just couldn't get here in time.
If they had gotten him out two, three seconds earlier and got him breathing that little bit sooner, his brain might have been alright. His brain could have recovered, but those last few seconds starved his brain and the cells started to degenerate and die. There was no recovering from what Chris had gone through and the damage left him with cerebral palsy.
"I nearly lost (Y/n) too… I want this baby, God, Buck I want another kid I want loads of them. But I, I don't know what will happen. I can't lose any of them."
Christopher was his world, Eddie loved him more than he could ever express and he wanted kids, he'd always wanted kids. He had three sisters, he was used to a big family and he had many aunts and uncles and grandparents and a lot of cousins. He wanted his own family to be extensive and big and full of love.
But it was the risk he didn't like.
Neither Eddie or (Y/n) thought having a baby would come with such risks, they didn't think anything other than sailing through the birth and having a baby at the end of it. But Eddie watched his son deteriorate and suffer and he watched his wife have to have her heart restarted, he saw the light leave her eyes and how much it took to get her back.
If something like that happened this time around, Eddie could lose (Y/n) for good or their next child could have something wrong with them. Christopher was an amazing child, but he had been dealt a bad deck, his life was stripped down from the beginning and it wasn't fair. Eddie hated that his son didn't have the same abilities and chances in life as the other kids his age.
He didn't know what he'd do if anything like that happened this time around. If anything went wrong, that would be it. If Eddie came close to losing his wife or child again, he wouldn't take any more chances, he wouldn't have any more kids.
They both wanted this baby, but the risk was frightening Eddie.
***
(8 years ago)
"Not long now, mi amor."
Biting her lip, (Y/n) managed to nod her head and leaned her head back against Eddie's shoulder and she smiled tiredly when he kissed her forehead.
The water they were sat in was extremely calming and soothing to her torn and aching muscles but it wasn’t medicine, it didn’t mask the pain. But it did stop (Y/n)’s muscles from seizing up and stopped her from being stiff sitting on the bed like she had been for the past six hours.
When they arrived after her water broke, (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself. Eddie had held her hands and helped her pace up and down the room, he knelt down on the floor with her when she felt like she wanted to squat down. He'd sat on the edge of the bed and let her kneel between his legs and lean on his thighs, they'd stayed like that for almost an hour. And then he'd sat on the edge of the bed when she finally felt tired enough to lie down for a while.
But sitting in the birthing pool was definitely the most relaxed and easiest (Y/n) had felt since going into labour.
And she could have cried tears of happiness when Eddie changed into a plain white shirt and a pair of jogging shorts and climbed into the pool behind her. He was knelt in the water with his chest holding her back up and his elbows pressed into her sides and his hands gripped tightly in hers.
“Okay, a big push for me and the head should be almost crowning.”
That was music to (Y/n)’s ears, they were getting so close now that it was becoming scary, but it was almost over. Their baby would soon be within their reach and they could find out if they had a little boy or a girl. (Y/n) could finally see what her baby looked like, if they had her nose or Eddie's eyes, how big or small or delicate they looked.
She felt the water lapping at her skin when she leaned back a little more against Eddie’s chest and sunk down just a bit more into the water, letting it envelope around her in a smothering hug.
It felt relaxing to have Eddie’s hands in hers and his arms pulling around her waist like he didn’t want her to suddenly drift away in the water. But (Y/n)’s eyes soon opened to look up at him when she felt his chest tighten and puff out and he fidgeted on his knees like something spooked him. She didn’t have the energy to speak so she just looked up at him quizzically.
(Y/n) knew that expression on her husband's face that had gone from smiling cheesily to a harsh, stern frown. Something wasn't right.
Eddie had been trained for medical emergencies when he was in the army but he had also helped out Hen and Chimney when they were out on calls. He knew more than the bare basics about childbirth and he knew that while a bit of blood was normal, this wasn't normal. (Y/n) was starting to haemorrhage.
"Stay still and try not to push for a minute (Y/n),"
(Y/n) tightened her hands around Eddie’s when Eliza- their midwife- reached forward to examine her stomach.
"Eddie," (Y/n) groaned out his name when her head started to feel woozy and her vision blurred when she looked down and saw a flurry of red streaks rippling into the water between her legs. Oh God, what was happening?
"I'm going to give you something to clot the bleed and get a doctor to assist, but I'm afraid we're going to have to get you back on the bed (Y/n)." Eliza was already out the pool and scouting through the medicine trolley for the clotting agent she needed.
Eddie could feel (Y/n)'s nails digging into the back of his hands and when he looked down at her, terror and agony was all he could read on her face. The water had calmed her down from the moment he lowered her into it and it was making her feel relaxed. Getting back on the bed wasn't what (Y/n) wanted to do, she wanted to have their baby here but Eddie knew that wasn't an option now. They needed to be safe and in control and back on the bed in case she started to bleed again.
“Eddie I- I can’t move.” (Y/n) tucked her face into Eddie’s neck as she felt like crying in anger and annoyance. Her legs were immobile right now and her lower half was numb despite her not having any pain relief, standing up wasn’t going to be a good option, let alone trying to walk over to the bed. (Y/n) wanted to stay here, she wanted to sit in the water and have her baby here.
"It's okay, I'll get you on the bed baby."
He let go of one of her hands so he could cradle the back of her head and tuck her face into his neck a little more. His lips pressed to the top of her burning forehead and he pressed repeated kisses mixed in with sweat into her temple to calm her down.
His eyes briefly darted up from his wife to the door when a doctor just a few years older than him came into the room with a calming smile and an easy demeanour. But Eddie didn't like the way (Y/n) barely winced when Eliza pressed the needle deep into her lower abdomen to help her clot. She was either numb with panic or she was starting to lose more blood than she should.
"Mrs Diaz, are you okay to be moved onto the bed now?"
Eddie could hear the small whimper that left (Y/n)’s lips but they couldn’t really do anything else.
He let go of her hand and moved his hands to hold her under her arms while he pushed up and stood up in the water and he was relieved when both the doctor and Eliza moved to steady and hold (Y/n) so he could climb out of the pool quickly.
Once he was out, Eddie moved so he was stood in front of (Y/n) and when she gripped his shoulders, he bent down and slowly hoisted her up to her feet so she wouldn't slip or fall. But he could see the way she trembled when she was fully stood up and her knees started to shake and buckle. She was too numb and weak to be moving far in this state.
(Y/n) let go of Eddie's shoulders and entwined her fingers behind his head, pressing her arms into his neck to try and steady herself a bit more but it didn't stop her from starting to sob.
"I've got you, you're doing great baby." His voice was calming yet authorative in a way that made (Y/n) want to smile. She knew her husband liked being in charge of situations, it helped him stay calm if he had control and knew what was happening and going on. Her head pushed into his chest and her back arched along with her knees but Eddie managed to keep her upright, not wanting her to go down on her knees in case she hurt herself.
He was slow and careful when he started to walk backwards, holding up most of (Y/n)'s weight for her so all she had to do was shuffle forward with the doctor and Eliza holding her arms and lower back for added precaution since water was pouring off them all.
"Gonna spin you round, baby." He muttered quietly when he reached the bed and he climbed onto it and held (Y/n)'s hips, helping her up onto the bed. But he winced when she screamed the moment she was eased onto the bed.
She seemed to want to squat down or kneel on the floor but that wasn’t really a choice right now.
Eddie kneeled on the edge of the bed with (Y/n) sat in the middle, her legs hanging off the other side of the bed and her back leaning up against Eddie, his arms cocooned around her waist to calm her down and secure her against him.
Eliza placed a few monitoring stickers on (Y/n)’s stomach but the sudden noise the monitor made made both Eddie and (Y/n) jump. Their baby's heartbeat was slow which caused the monitor to get louder in urgency.
"(Y/n), on the next contraction I need you to push, baby is crowning now." the doctor was knelt on the floor in front of them and their midwife Eliza was stood at (Y/n)'s side to keep check of vitals and be added help if needed. But (Y/n) didn't feel like she could push for very much longer, she wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to press fast forward on this part of her life and have it over and done with and wake up with her baby in her arms.
"I'm t-trying, I…" She didn't know what she was trying to say or emphasise but the more she pushed, the more her stomach twisted. And she leaned so far forward when she pushed that she felt Eddie whispering 'woah, woah' in her ear and felt him reel her back so she didn't topple forward.
"Has the head crowned yet?" Eddie rested his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder so he could lean down and look but his teeth grated together when he realised she hadn't.
"Baby's stuck. Alright (Y/n) I'm afraid you need to keep pushing, we have to free baby now."
“I can’t… H- Eddie w-what if…” (Y/n)’s chest was vibrating and shuddering up and down as she was barely breathing, all of her air was pumping out through her lips but only small amounts of air was being inhaled until she wasn’t really breathing at all. (Y/n) could see the monitor was becoming more frantic and the baby wasn’t even moving anymore, aside from (Y/n) forcing them out into the world. Something wasn’t right, she didn’t want to do this anymore she wanted to be at home safe and sound with Eddie, not here in pain and in danger of something going wrong.
“I know, I know but you're almost done now baby. Just keep going at your pace, you’re doing so well.” Eddie couldn’t do anything or say anything to make it better. He could only hold (Y/n) and encourage her to carry on because their baby was nearly born. They were too far along to do anything but push or risk the doctors needing to use force and pull their baby free.
If she wasn't crowning they might have been able to get a C-section, but the baby was too close now for that.
Eddie’s eyes darted around the room though he wasn’t sure what he was searching for. He watched Eliza getting towels and clamps and scissors ready to cut the cord and she set up the scales and got tubes in case the baby couldn’t breathe. But when Eddie looked back down, he could see a steady stream of blood trickling down (Y/n)'s legs onto the bed and on the towel they had placed on the floor.
"Head's out," The relief was clear in the doctor's voice but his expression was grave and it sent Eddie's heart plummeting down into his stomach. "Almost there now (Y/n), that's it keep going."
“I- it hurts… please…” (Y/n) didn’t know what she was pleading for but whatever it was, she needed it to happen now. She was feeling like she was about to pass out from the pain. She could feel Eddie’s lips pressing to her cheek and the tears falling from his eyes because he was scared for his family.
She just wanted it to stop.
Eddie felt like he could feel the baby moving too because each push sent shockwaves through (Y/n) and she was vibrating in his arms. Her scream was ungodly and Eddie could only imagine how the pain must have felt but as he hugged (Y/n) tighter and tried to calm her down by humming in her ear, he leaned forward to look down over her shoulder.
The blood was getting substantial but what scared the flesh from his bones was looking at his baby. He could see them now, just their feet to go but his little baby was trembling and was a very pale shade of grey, no trace of pink about them.
"Well done (Y/n), you've got a boy, he's here." His words were overpowered by the mix of a scream and a wail that echoed around the walls and reverted back to Eddie’s ears that made him cringe.
Eddie felt (Y/n) slump down against him like she had suddenly passed out or even died but when he looked at her he could see her half-lidded eyes were still conscious. His arms tightened around her despite not wanting to cause her pain, he wanted to comfort her as well as himself and holding her closer was the only way he could calm down.
He leaned over (Y/n)’s shoulder again, pressing his lips to the top of her head but his eyes focused on the doctor who had their son resting on his knees. He wasn’t moving anymore, not even a spasm of his arm or a little wriggle. His chest wasn’t quaking and his lips were a pale shade of blue.
He wasn’t okay.
“Eddie…”
He looked down at (Y/n), trying to hide the pain in his eyes so she wouldn’t get scared but she was already afraid. She hadn’t heard their baby cry, she hadn’t managed to look down and see their son and the doctor wasn’t saying anything either. She knew something had been wrong and she knew their baby wasn’t okay by the way Eddie wasn’t smiling or crying with joy or marvelling at their son.
“Shh… it’s okay.” He knew it wasn’t but he didn’t know what else to say.
Eddie watched Eliza cut the cord before she took his son and moved a few feet away to try and get him to breathe. He felt like counting the seconds but he knew it would only further his panic rather than calm him down. It didn't take long for them to hear a small, murky gurgle and then a little cough and that was enough to tell them their son was alive, at least.
"(Y/n), I'm going to give you an injection to cause contractions to deliver the placenta… (Y/n)?" The doctor stood up and stretched his back into place but his lips formed a frown when he looked down at (Y/n).
Eddie followed his gaze and looked down at his wife in his arms. Her head was on his shoulder, tucked into his neck but her eyes were starting to roll to the back of her head and she wasn't moving.
"Mi amor... look at me." He couldn't breathe. "(Y/n) look at me!" His voice became stern and his tone dropped an octave as he pressed his fingers to her neck and felt her pulse that was steadily dropping and becoming faint. "She's gonna code!"
When Eddie shuffled back off the bed (Y/n) went limp and when the doctor attached a monitor to her finger that showed she had no pulse, Eddie realised he was screaming. His voice didn't reach his own ears, he couldn't hear anything but the steady buzz of the monitor that pushed him into action despite the tears tracing down his face.
He turned (Y/n) round and pulled her onto the bed properly while the doctor moved her legs and threw the pillow onto the floor so she was laid flat on her back.
Reaching up, Eddie knitted his fingers together behind his head and tried to force himself to take deep breaths but he couldn't. His wife wasn't breathing, her heart wasn't beating and the midwife had ran out the room with his son. They were both leaving him. Why were they going? Why did they want him to be alone? He couldn't survive without them.
Two shocks was all it took to get a small, unstable rhythm back to (Y/n)'s heart and when Eddie saw her breathe, he dropped down to his knees. His forehead pressed into (Y/n)'s thigh that he started to kiss and he groped around until he had her hand clasped in his. One of the prayers his mother used to say chanted through Eddie's lips between kisses to (Y/n)'s leg and he closed his eyes, begging God not to take either of them away from him.
He wasn't supposed to be alone.
***
Eddie threw his keys in the dish beside the shoe rack and stumbled out of his boots before he trudged through to the living room. Talking to Buck had made him feel a bit better, but he couldn't get the memories out of his head.
When he reached the sofa, he planted his hands down and leaned across the back so he could reach (Y/n). "Hi, mi amor," He whispered quietly as he kissed her cheek before he moved over to kiss the top of Christopher's head.
"Hi daddy,"
"Hello bud."
He rounded the sofa and took a minute to absorb the sight in front of him. 'The Land Before Time' was playing on the tv, Chris was wearing his dinosaur pyjamas that (Y/n) had bought him last week, the ones he hadn't changed out of or let them wash since he got them. And a lot of mini dinosaur figures were scattered on the coffee table along with a plastic box half full of sand with the rest of the sand on the floor. And Eddie also noticed a few miniature shovels and scrapers on the table.
"What have you two been doing?" He gently held (Y/n)'s sides and eased her up so he could sit down behind her on the sofa.
A smile instantly pulled at his lips when (Y/n) nuzzled her face into his chest and when he curled his arm around her side, he felt a small kick against his palm.
"We bought an excavation set, he's uncovered some bones and figures, haven't you baby?" (Y/n) ruffled Chris's hair, smiling when he turned over so he was laid on her legs and held out a small plastic bone towards Eddie. "It's his newest obsession," She whispered quietly in his ear.
Space had been Chris's longest lasting obsession. He had glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, a homemade rocket in his room that he and Eddie made last month and a poster of the solar system above his bed. But more recently it was dinosaurs and archaeology that caught his interest. Since they had a free day, (Y/n) took him out and found a very good play set for him to do.
Detailed bones and small miniature toys were buried in a mix of play sand and clay mud and Chris had spent all day digging them out, brushing the dirt off, cleaning them. And then (Y/n) read the book to him that showed what each bone was called and a lot of random facts about each different creature.
"Wow, you've had a busy day, huh?" Eddie handed him back the mini bone and kissed (Y/n)'s forehead. "I'm not at work this weekend, why don't we go down to the museum, see some lifesize bones?"
Eddie loved the cheeky smile on his son's face before he buried his face into (Y/n)'s leg and started to giggle. And he loved how excited and obsessed and interested he would get over random things, tiny things, new things and new hobbies.
He was such an easy child to please and he was always so happy no matter what they were doing or where they were going. His outlook was so much brighter than Eddie's own view on things and it amazed him.
They had been lucky; extremely lucky when Chris was born. He may have been hurt and they all got trauma from the experience, but they were all okay and alive and here. As long as his family was okay, they could handle whatever life threw at them. If this birth went sideways, they would tackle it as well, they would get through it.
And for the first time in a while, Eddie could feel his worries melting away.
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
Note
Omg omg HC to spare? Pls Toji lovingly and slowly seduces you and fucks you so intimately on the couch while you’re riding him to “come and talk to me” by Jodeci. The relationship started off as a one night stand between acquaintances,  and now y’all fuck so frequently and so intimately. Locked eyes and pet names and praises that will make one would watched think y’all were DEEPLY in love 😩😩😩 pls you’re my favorite writer and I know I MF KNOW you’ll eat this shit up and make it art
honeyyyyy, I ain’t even no *huge* Toji girl (bc he still fine as hell, don’t get me wrong!) like that but what??? oh this is so sexy 😫 like this might be my awakening for this man!! May have to spin the block and do a full fic of this one day but yeah..
cw: riding, pet names (sweetness, doll, love) hand holding, praise kink
“Mmm..Toji, fuck!..right there, baby. That’s my spot.”
“I know, doll..oh god, you’re gripping me so fucking tight..”
the exchange between (y/n) and your long time lover entering yet another hour as the two of you engaged in various rounds of wonderful sex; inviting him over for yet another night cap that involved a little bit of white wine, wooing you with his sweet words, a massage and some sensual R&B music. Jodeci hummed through the speakers of the flatscreen mounted to the wall. Now here you were being impaled and bounced relentlessly atop Toji Fushiguro’s thick cock. That plump ass colliding and ricocheting off of his pelvis while your hands intertwined and balanced you in his firm grasp. That chiseled body and perfect physique lying underneath you; a giant smile plastered on his face from the smacking of your sweat slicked skin; the contrast of your tones flickering underneath the pale candlelight..it was the scene reminiscent of a romance movie. One that had been reoccurring for many months on end with it only improving every time. Learning and exploring one another’s bodies, falling deeper in love each time you make it. Tonight in particular was rather special, as Toji was just returning home from a business trip and the first person he came to visit upon touching back down was none other than you. Bearing flowers and gifts, he arrived at your doorstep; dressed in his signature black button down that exposed the chest, small silver necklace and black pants..his cologne wafting through your nostrils as well. All of which you had worked him out of by now, twirling the thin silver chain around your fingertip as you rode him to kingdom come. Obsessing over every square inch and crevice of each other’s flesh throughout the course of the night. “Toji, baby.. ‘m, so close..I’m gonna come again!” “Just keep going, sweetheart. Oh shit, you’re fucking me so good..” continuing to clutch hands as he began bucking his upward into you. That deep voice ringing out in your ear…shooting off expletives and singing your praises simultaneously. “You take me so good, sweetheart. Wrapping around my dick like this.” “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Oh God, you’re incredible.” Telling you all the sweet nothings to make you happy and even wetter than before. Filling you with every inch of him. The mixture of your messy climaxes seeping down your thighs and onto the cushions of the couch. But none of that mattered; only the time you shared with one another and having moments like this.
anyone from the outside looking in, they would have sworn that you and Mr. Fushiguro were a happily married couple yet it couldn’t be the furthest thing from..in fact, you were nothing more than acquaintances months ago. Practically perfect strangers if you were being honest. But that all but changed when a bad thunderstorm trapped you at his place one night. The two of you had just finished up a project for work and as you were heading it out, it began raining and lightning. Naturally, in good faith, he couldn’t allow you to leave in those conditions. So instead, he gave you a warm place to lie your head for the night and his face to sit on..making you come more times than you had in a lifetime. He was an excellent lover and always made sure to talk you through your orgasms..even taking care of you long after the sex was finished. If your busy schedules had permitted it, you’d make this little affair something more permanent. But for now, you’d enjoy things for what they were and let him have his way. Moving his grasp from your fingers to that waist, holding you still as he thrusted up into you. Muffled grunts escaping his throat..tossing his head back from the pings of pleasure exerting through that lower half. Twitching…throbbing while pounding your pussy. Molding you to his shape to ensure you’d want no one else but him inside of it when he finished..and that there was no other woman for him except (y/n) . Which he’d spend every waking second until the sunrise proving.
“Fuck..I swear I’ll always come back to you, baby. Always gonna be yours.”
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jessybarnes · 2 years
Text
Love Dust
Title: Love Dust
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!
Word Count: 2,245
Tags: SMUT, Angst, fluff, sex pollen, kink: harder, find the cure, arguing, sexual tension, minor injuries, masturbation, mutual masturbation, wall sex, unprotected sex, choking, biting, oral sex (female receiving), kissing, multiple orgasms, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think that's it but please let me know if I forgot something.
Written For: @kinktober2022 , @buckybarnesbingo , and @badthingshappenbingo
Square(s) Filled: Sex Pollen for Kinktober // B2 - Kink: Harder for Bucky Barnes Bingo // O1 - Find The Cure for Bad Things Happen Bingo
Beta(s): T. Thompson and A. DiLorenza 
"Bucky? Hey, Buck can you hear me?"
You were partnered with the super soldier on the most recent mission, and things started out bad and kept getting worse. 
The two of you didn't really get along, to begin with. Add that to the fact that neither of you agreed with the other's decisions, and well, that's how you ended up here, in this dark, dilapidated room. 
The walls are cement, the floor is concrete, there are no windows, and the only light is coming from a little vent on the wall by the steel door. 
Neither of you is restrained, but you're a hundred percent certain the door is locked. Instead of wasting your time trying to pry it open, you decide to check on Bucky. After all, he's the one with super soldier serum running through his veins, and with his super strength and metal arm, he's your best bet at getting out. 
You crouch down and brush his shoulder-length hair out of his face. He really is beautiful, but you'd never tell him that to his face. He'd never let you live that confession down. 
He's got a pretty gnarly gash above his eyebrow but other than that, he's unscathed. Well, from what you can immediately determine anyway. You gently roll him onto his back and press two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. 
Okay, so at least he's not dead.
His chest rises and falls and you can't help but run your fingers over his silver hand. The metal is cool and you flatten his palm to look at the intricate grooves. You've always been fascinated with the inner workings and design of his prosthetic, but never had a chance to look at it up close. Until now.
"The fuck are you doing?" 
You jump and scoot back to give him some room, "sorry… you were out cold and I couldn't get you to wake up." 
He raises an eyebrow, "so you decide the best way to do that is to play with my metal hand?" 
"Just shut up and help me get us out of here."
Bucky sits up and looks around. He doesn't remember much other than the stubborn tactics that got the two of you surrounded by Hydra agents. 
He stands and rolls the sleeve of his red Henley up to expose his metal forearm before gripping the door handle. 
"You should probably stand back." 
You roll your eyes, "I'm fine. Would you just do it already? I'm hungry and want to shower." 
He shrugs and gives the handle a hard tug. Nothing happens so he fixes his stance and uses both arms to pull as hard as he can. 
You stand and watch with your hands on your hips. Even though his efforts didn't work it was still nice to admire his back and arm muscles flexing. Just because you think Bucky's insufferable doesn't make him unattractive. You're only human. 
"Good try and all, but I don't think the door's gonna budge." 
Bucky sighs and lowers himself onto the floor again, the back of his head resting against the wall. Out of all the people he could have been trapped in a ten-by-ten empty room with it just had to be you. 
He's honestly not sure what Fury sees in you. Sure you're skilled in combat and can hold you're own on missions. He'd be lying if he said you weren't pretty, but your arrogant personality rubs him the wrong way. It's just like that saying goes, you can't have everything. 
"So, any ideas?" 
He doesn't even bother opening his eyes. 
"Not unless you got a way to bust through that thick, steel door." 
"So, we're just supposed to sit here then?" 
Bucky sighs, a twinge of annoyance hints in his tone. "Well, seeing as there's only us in here, and I'm the only one who would have been able to open the door, I don't see how we can do anything else." 
"That's really helpful," you deadpan. He grunts and you roll your eyes. You watch him from the opposite wall. He's always so nice to everyone else at the compound. Granted he doesn't talk that much or participate in the parties that Tony holds, but he never seems unpleasant with anyone else. So why is he that way with you? 
You can't put your finger on it, and so long as you are stuck in this tiny ass room with him you're going to figure out why. 
"What's your deal?"
Bucky cracks an eye open and subtly tilts his head toward you, "excuse me?"
"Why are you always such a dick to me?" 
He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm not getting into this with you, Y/N. My head hurts, I'm tired, and I'm not in the mood to open this can of worms right now." 
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can a hissing noise catches both of your attention. You look at the vent and begin to panic at the sight of a pale yellow mist flowing out. 
"Bucky? What the fuck is that?" 
"I…don't know…but whatever it is it can't be good." 
He stands and goes to pull on the door handle again, but to no avail. The dust-like substance floats in front of his face and he stumbles back, his body becoming overwhelmed with heat. 
"Bucky?!" 
He collapses onto all fours, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He's hot all over, and even though he hears you call out to him, he can't focus on anything but the thick, molten heat pooling in his groin. 
Once he can finally catch his breath he realizes something else. 
He can smell you. 
Bucky grits his teeth and tries so hard to ignore the intoxicating scent of your arousal. It's surrounding him, and he can't help the tent forming in his jeans. He's hard and leaking, his cock begging to be touched, and it's taking everything in him to keep himself from tearing your clothes off and pounding it into your tight, wet heat. 
You slowly get closer to him avoiding the yellow dust as best as you can. He's doubled over like he's in serious pain, and even though the two of you don't see eye to eye it doesn't mean you want him to suffer. 
Your hand gently touches his shoulder and he immediately whips his head around to look at you, your eyebrows shooting up in shock. 
Bucky's unrecognizable. His skin is flushed, his pupils are dilated, and his nostrils flare as his lip curls upwards. He looks absolutely feral and you aren't sure if it's because he wants to kill you or if he wants to devour you. 
He stands and turns to you, his shoulders moving up and down as he breathes. His fists clench at his sides and he inhales deeply, groaning as he closes his eyes. 
"You smell so fucking good, Y/N…"
"Bucky?" You hold your hands up as he stalks toward you, "please…y-you don't have to do this!" 
He backs you into the wall and plants a hand on either side of you. His face lowers down to yours and you turn your head to cower away. You're unsure what his motive is. Is he going to eat you? Is this some sort of cannibalistic dust that infects the people that ingest it? 
Bucky leans into your neck, his nose dragging along your throat as he breathes in again. 
"Mmm, wanna taste you…"
You push on his chest but it's no use. Trying to move him away is like trying to move a brick wall. 
There's no where for you to go. Bucky's blocking you from the front and the dust is slowly surrounding you from both sides. 
The first flakes of it dance across your face and it's like you've been dipped in a sea of lava. Your back arches off the wall and your panties immediately become soaked through. The throbbing between your legs is so intense that you can't even think straight.
One of your hands slides into your panties and you immediately push two fingers inside of yourself. It does nothing to soothe your need for release, but you just can't stop. 
Bucky growls and nearly tears his own off so he can fist his cock. He thrusts into his hand as he watches you, his eyes wild and primal. 
Your orgasm comes suddenly and you cry out as slick covers your hand. Bucky’s isn't far behind, seemingly endless ropes of cum bursting from his tip. 
Although it felt good, reaching your high did nothing to satiate the unbearable ache in your core. You rub fast circles on your clit while Bucky strokes up and down his still leaking cock. 
"Bucky," you whine desperately, his eyes fierce as he looks down at you, "i-it won't stop…" 
Bucky closes his eyes and swallows hard. He can hear how wet you are and the last shreds of his self control are dwindling away. 
"Buck, please I-I can't… We need to… to find the cure." 
"Fuck!" He growls and drags you down so you're laying on the floor, "gotta taste you, doll. Smell so fucking good." 
At this point, you'd let him do anything if it made you feel better. You lift your hips and he strips you, tossing your clothes somewhere behind him. He spreads your thighs apart and curses under his breath.
"Jesus, you're dripping all over the floor, baby." 
You whimper and circle your clit again, but he swats your hand away. 
"Please!" You beg. "Just please do something. I can't take much mo-OH, FUCK!" 
Bucky dives between your legs like a starved man. He uses his thumbs to spread you open, his tongue diving into your soaked cunt. He's relentless as he licks and sucks your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm. 
You're practically crying from how intense it feels and when he slips his tongue inside of you, it hurdles you over the edge. Bucky doesn't stop, his low groan vibrates through your core and makes you scream and squirt all over his face. 
"Bucky! Bucky oh, my g- oh, fuck! Baby please!" 
He finally lets you go and pulls his face away so he can look at you. His chin is shining from your cum and it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen. There's still a dull, pounding heat and your eyes fill with tears as your hand works its way to rub your clit again. 
"B-Bucky…" 
He shushes you and lifts you into his arms, "shh, I've got you, doll. I know, I know it hurts, but I'll make it better, okay?" 
You nod and grab onto his shoulders as he pushes you against the wall. His kiss is needy and rough as his cock stretches your pussy. 
Bucky can't fuck you fast enough. He's never been more feral for anyone than he is right now. His body pins you to the wall, his mouth ravishes your exposed skin in open-mouthed kisses, and the way your velvety cunt pulls him in is intoxicating. 
"Oh, baby," he groans deeply, "you feel so fuckin' good… taking my cock so well…"
"Harder, Bucky!" You cry out and throw your head back, his metal hand coming up to close around your throat. 
"Yeah, princess? You need me to fuck this little pussy harder?" He grips your side with his free hand, his hips pistoning upward with reckless abandon. "I'm gonna ruin you, doll. No one else will ever fuck you like this." 
"Oh, shit! Bucky! I-I'm gonna cum! You're gonna make me cum oh, my god!" 
He squeezes your throat a little tighter and kisses you vigorously, "yeah, that's it, pretty girl…cum…cum all over my cock." 
His words are like a trigger, sending you over the edge for a third time, and it's intensity makes little spots dance in your vision. Bucky's release is right behind yours, his legs shaking as he cums with an animalistic shout. 
Bucky pants wetly against your lips and lets his metal arm slide down to grab your other hip. He turns around and sinks down to the floor with you in his lap, his cock slowly softening inside of you.
Your still shaking as you lay limp in his arms, his fingertips rubbing lightly up and down your back. It's quiet other than your breathing and you realize that you finally feel relief. 
You raise your head to thank him, but before you can, the door is blown off its hinges and hits the wall behind you making you jump. 
Bucky wraps his flesh arm protectively around you and raises his metal one to block the debris. He pulls you off of him and stands to put himself between you and whatever’s behind the dissolving dust. Naked or not, he won't let anyone hurt you. 
"Buck? Oh, thank god we found y-...wait, why don't you have clothes on? What's going on?" Steve gazes from him, to the yellow pollen-like substance on the floor, and back to Bucky. He's thoroughly confused until he notices you behind his best friend. He shakes his head and chuckles to himself. 
"I don't know what happened in here, but whatever it was I'm glad you two aren't at each other's throats anymore. The tension was getting to be too much, so I guess all I have to say is…
It's about damn time."
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renecdote · 10 months
Text
and what if in your sleep, you dreamed
The last square on my BTHB card is finally here! This one is for @herodiaz, ily Becky 💛
Summary:
The thing is, Buck had been doing well with his dreams. Nine out of ten nights, he wasn’t bringing back anything that he didn’t want to. But: head injury, mostly. The trauma of it all, probably. That night, Buck goes to sleep in Eddie’s bed and wakes up holding his car keys. It’s—it could be worse. After the tsunami, he kept waking up with his sheets full of sand, soaked through and shivering. After Eddie was shot, he’d wake up with blood in his mouth, choking on the taste of it. When Maddie was gone, hiding herself away in Boston, and he missed her so much it ached, Buck had to fight against his mind not to bring her back from his dreams. That would have been hard to explain: waking up in bed with Taylor on one side and a carbon copy of his missing sister on the other. Car keys, at least, can be hidden. Except it’s not just the car keys. Or: the raven cycle inspired dream magic fic For BTHB: wound that would not heal
In his dreams, there is always more blood. It pools under him as he lies in the middle of the road, pours down his arm as he stumbles through waterlogged streets, fills his lungs as Abby takes a knife to his throat. It’s torn out of him with slashes on his arms, his legs, his chest, veins cut through and gaping, arteries nicked. Buck bleeds and bleeds and bleeds until there is nothing else left of him.
In hindsight, the whole blood clots turned blood thinners thing is kind of ironic.
Or. Is that what ironic means? It’s whatever word means the universe is laughing at him, is what it is. And the universe has always loved laughing at him. Laughing and screaming and clawing him open.
For Buck’s whole life, Maddie has told him that he isn’t cursed.
“It’s a gift, Evan,” when he’s a kid. “It means you’re special.”
Becomes: “You’re different, Evan. It’s not a bad thing.”
Becomes: “I don’t know why, okay? Sometimes things happen and you just have to deal with it. Life isn’t always fair.”
She was right about that: life isn’t fair.
She was wrong about other things though. Including the fact that he’s definitely cursed. How can he not be when he dreams of blood and wakes up terrified that he has brought it with him? Buck bolts upright in bed or on the couch, at the station and at home and everywhere else he sleeps, patting himself down—arms, throat, chest, legs—fingers trembling, breaths loud and gasping, his heart beating painfully fast.
It’s worse when it comes from memory.
Months after the truck bombing, he dreams about losing his leg and wakes up on Eddie’s couch shaking, sobbing, clawing at the duvet until his fingers are digging into his thigh, his knee, his calf, still there, still there, still there. Buck folds over himself, knee hugged to his chest, hand pressed against his mouth to stifle the sobs that still won’t stop. His leg is cramping, pain shooting up through his spine, nerves tingling, but he can’t make himself let go. Can’t stop shaking. Can’t quite believe that he’s awake.
“Buck?” Disembodied and worried, the light flicking on a moment later. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
Eddie falls to his knees beside the couch, reaching out, and Buck shakes his head over and over, but can’t find the words to say he’s fine. (He’s not fine.)
[Read on AO3]
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Note
Hi Marina!! Thinking about John and Jeanie from Dear John, and Gale and Maureen in your integrated AU, as always, and was wondering if you have any crumbs or snippets you may want to share with us mere mortals. If not, that’s okay!! Hope you have a lovely day and can’t wait for whatever you post next!
Oooh my darling hello, hello, I do indeed have a few crumbs, they are just that -mere crumbs- but I adore you all and I want to wet your whistles for both so here goes:
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Dear John Crumb:
“Who’s yours from?”
“Marge.”
“Maaaarge.” Bucky predictably parroted, Crank and Benny got letters this time too, and that was good for them.
Buck’s face while perusing his letter however, was not the typical luminous glow of an ardent young cherub in love, and that had the odd effect of worrying Bucky. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s, she’s bein-“ he trailed off, flipping the letter back and forth and scrutinizing it intensely, “I think she’s hinting somethin’. Where’s that envelope? Hell Benny, don’t put the plate on it!”
“Sorry major.”
Buck took the worn envelope and shook it, prying the seams apart until like an old dream replayed, a little square and shiny card floated to the ground. John kept himself seated, not even ready to dare hope that had anything to do with him, much as he was shaken by the similarity to Julie Jean’s first correspondence and attached photographic gift, tucked in an envelope seam. The way Buck had shaken it just so and how it had fluttered to the ground and how Buck’s thumb had looked pressed against Lana’s black and white nipples.
“John Egan, you’ve got mail.” Buck bellowed with something like triumph in his voice, face lit up like a firework stand ablaze, “Get over here, you mopey sonuvabitch.”
The chair he was sat in clattered backwards into some poor fucker as Egan dove up and towards Buck’s bunk, drawn to the waved little photograph in his hand. Buck was a merciful man and handed it over without a game of tug. Bucky deeply wished the room wasn’t full of curious friends but then again, looking into this flat, shiny, black and white, shrunken little world -it took him miles and miles away. Away to a front yard in some small town where it looked chilly but festive, with candy cane decor lining the sidewalk up to a plain brick house and two girls in the yard, mid blurry laugh, clinging to each other like they’d fall over and tweak their ankles in the leaves if they let go.
Marge and Julie.
“How ‘bout that.” Gale’s voice was warm and soft and Bucky didn't have an answer for him, he ground out a rough cough that was intended to be an agreement before it got snarled in the lump in his throat.
—END SCENE—-
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Those Who Can crumb:
After being in the darker interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.
And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.
“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.
“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.
“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.
“Fine.” she assured.
He went searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”
“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.
—END SCENE—
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harrowharkwife · 1 year
Text
the transcript for 615 isn't out yet so my sleuthing abilities are somewhat limited but i cannot believe how heavyhanded they were last night! about not only the running theme of eddie & time, but also the running theme of buck & luck.
we clocked (ha) the eddie & time theme awhile back, but if you rewatch s5&s6, there's a running theme of luck, too, and it's centered squarely around buck. it's a little quieter, sure, but it's absolutely there.
something about the way that eddie's root traumas all stem from the pressure he was under, this persistent pressure to grow up faster than he should have. an hourglass turned over and the sand running out, minutes and seconds falling grain by grain from cradle to grave. man of the house by age twelve, a husband and father and soldier by nineteen, a widow by twenty six. he's lived a remarkable amount of life in a remarkably short time, if you think about it. but he never had the time or the chance to point his life in a new direction, stuck on a set of predetermined tracks and speeding milestone to milestone through a life of inevitable conclusions and preset outcomes he never had the chance to choose, living his life for others instead of for himself, feeling like he's running out of time, like his window of opportunity to live authentically for himself is slipping out of reach. he's spent his whole life racing the clock, really- can i just get a little damn time?
something about the way that buck's root traumas all stem from this tumbling domino effect of misfortune, one stroke of horrible, tragic, no-good luck after another. daniel's leukemia, strike one. neither maddie nor margaret nor phillip being a match, one helluva strike two. baby buck's bone marrow graft, just...not taking, despite everything? strike three. he was born to be a 'miracle baby.' but that's the funny thing about miracles, isn't it? when you try to engineer them, all the luck runs out. so he grew up unlucky in love, unlucky in friends, unlucky in family. feeling, rightly or wrongly, like he was always the odd man out, always the one being left, always the one clinging to whatever good, bright, shiny, lucky little thing he can find, forever trying to make sense of his place in this world. of course he feels like he cheated death- in a sick, sad, tragic way, he was essentially born in a desperate attempt to cheat the looming spectre of daniel's. (of course it's understandable that parents will do anything in their power to save their child, of course the buckley parents should have gone about it better, these two things can coexist). when your life so far has been a series of unfortunate events, of course you're going to spend it chasing down every opportunity you see through your rose colored glasses to try and change that luck- even if it's too good to be true. even when the universe is screaming at you. even with a million red flags waving in the Santa Ana winds. it's a run of bad luck, but it'll turn around tomorrow. // feels like the bracelet didn't change her luck, it just made the bad luck more apocalyptic.
something about one in a million chances. something about beating the odds, surviving despite it all. something about the way that the tsunami AND the shooting AND the lighting strike are all the definition of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
something about jinxes, and curses, and dumb luck. 'cause what is fate, anyway, if not time and luck intertwined?
now feels like a good time to remind ourselves of the last words buck and eddie exchanged before the shooting. before the moment where everything changed.
eddie: should have gotten here sooner.
buck: nah, that kid's just lucky to have met you.
something about all those funny little sayings we have about love - right person, wrong time (abby?). right time, wrong person (ali?). wrong person, wrong time (taylor?).
(only took three tries to get it right.)
and then maybe, finally, when the timing is right, if you get a little lucky-
right time, right person. and so much love.
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gnpwdrnwhiskey · 9 months
Text
Conversations with a Movie Star
Chapter 2- Free WiFi
Pairing- Dieter Bravo x ofc!Ava
Word Count- 2.1K-ish
Warnings- none really that I'm aware of? some foul language, some awkward conversation....mostly this chapter is just fluff & filler 🤷🏻‍♀️
Author's Note- big thanks to @wildemaven for putting up with me sending her chunks of this and asking if it's okay, lol, and to @trulybetty for all the baby hippos 🦛
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Movement on the security monitor for the outer office catches Dieter's eye and he peels himself off the couch to get a closer look, mentally preparing himself to deal with a current guest or a new one.
What he's not prepared for is that cute reporter woman- Ava, he knows her name is Ava- to be behind the reservation desk apparently rifling through all the motel's paperwork.
It's not the first time she's been by the office, ringing the bell for assistance and then impatiently waiting for a few minutes before huffing off. If she'd ever noticed the camera in the corner, Dieter wouldn't have been at all surprised if she'd flipped it off before she left.
And Dieter's been hiding. Avoiding her. But this, this invasion of his privacy, is the last straw and he's about to fling open the inner office door and march out there and give her a piece of his mind when he realizes he's wearing the exact same thing he was wearing the last time he saw her and he refuses to let her think she's right about him- he has taken a shower in the last two days, thank you very much.
He shrugs off his robe and leaves it where it falls, grabbing a tee off the back of the couch and giving it a quick sniff before pulling it over his head and then searching for a pair of pants. All he finds are striped pajama bottoms but whatever, it's still a different outfit. And a mostly clean one at that.
He gives his hair a quick tousle - chicks seem to love that messy look- and there's not much he can do about his blood shot eyes on such short notice, but that's what his trusty Ray-Bans are for.
He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, gets his game face on and then he flings open the door.
Dieter's amused when Ava jumps at the sound of the door flying open and he can feel a smirk starting to inch itself across his face, one that quickly changes to a look of annoyance when she spins to face him and doesn't even have the decency to look guilty about being caught.
"Finally!" Ava exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air before letting them fall back down to her sides. "Have you just been hiding back there every time I've stopped by? You have, haven't you? Whatever, you're here now. Can you help me?"
"With your snooping?" Dieter snorts. "Not likely. What are you hoping to find? Tax records? STD test results? Love letters? Compromising photos?"
Now she just looks confused, head tilted and hands on her hips and Dieter's even more annoyed because here she is, busted rifling through his personal property and she really shouldn't look so fucking adorable. Looking at her big wide eyes makes him feel like he should apologize and he's not even the one in the wrong.
"Okay one, I'm not snooping. And two, I really wouldn't expect you to keep anything that sensitive somewhere so easily accessible to the public? And as glad as I am to know you get tested regularly, I'm really just trying--"
"To find what? What do you think you can sell to the highest bidder and make a quick buck or two off of? I swear all you people are the fucking same, just because some one is a goddamn celebrity doesn't mean they're not entitled to their fucking privacy and you just come in here--"
"Hey! Dumb Bunny!!" Ava yells, cutting off his tirade just when he was really getting warmed up to the subject. "I'm just looking for the password for the WiFi! It's not in my room anywhere and I need to do some work. Also, I'm not a gossip columnist. If I was gonna tell your secret, TMZ would've been here already."
"Oh. trashpanda75." Dieter answers automatically. That was not at all what he was expecting. "All one word, lowercase letters."
"Thank you," Ava nods. "It's been fun but let's not do this again, okay? And maybe consider hiring some front desk help, you could avoid future mishaps like this one where you falsely accuse your guests of spying on you."
She leaves the office with a wave and Dieter scrambles to follow her.
"Wait, Ava, wait- Dumb Bunny? What the fuck?"
"I gotta call you something," she shrugs. "And apparently we're pretending you aren't who you are so your name isn't an option. Same initials. I'll call you DB for short."
Well. He's been called worse things.
"Sorry about earlier. The WiFi works best from the office. Come by anytime. I have beer & I'll order pizza? -DB"
Ava pulls the note off the door and taps it against her lips as she lets herself into her room and ponders this turn of events. She wasn't expecting an apology. She was snooping a bit, not that she found anything interesting and she did feel a little guilty about lying to him, but is it really a lie if she's not planning on calling TMZ? The plan is to be long gone before she ever even publishes the first word about him.
The reporter in her is screaming for her to take any opportunity to find out more about him and how he ended up here, but the woman- the girl, really- who used to have a crush on him is a little more hesitant. Never meet your heroes and all that. And she's already met him. And she's not sure how she feels about it.
She digs her phone out of her back pocket and flops down on the bed, pulling up her brother's number. She needs the other half of her brain to figure this out.
"What now, Ava?" Drew says instead of hello and Ava smiles, her brother is a gem for putting up with her and she loves him so much for it.
"I've been invited to go hang out with the super famous, and still ridiculously cute, boy I had a crush on in highschool. Should I go?"
"We both already know you're going, so what do you want from me?"
"Do I look okay?" Ava holds her phone up and angled down so her brother can get a look at her outfit and Drew rolls his eyes.
"That's not much of an outfit. Do those shorts even cover your ass?"
"Mostly? Just stop being such a dad and tell me if I'm cute?"
"Why don't you have any female friends? Then you could bother them with this type of shit?"
"Because I was born with a built-in bestie. Not my fault you're a dumb boy. But back to me...."
"Ava, do you even know what you're doing here? Please do not sleep with a washed up movie star for the sake of a story."
"I didn't say I was going to sleep with him. I said I'm going to hang out. Apparently there will be pizza and beer."
"Then why does it matter if you're cute?"
"Ugh. You're right. I need a female. Where's Emma?"
"Soccer practice with the twins, then she has to pick up Harry at ballet."
"Then you'll have to do."
"Fine," Drew sighs. "Change the shorts, leave something to the imagination. And for God's sake, put on a bra!"
"I will do one of those things," Ava laughs. "Thanks bro, you're the best!! Smooches to everyone!"
Ava takes in the scene in front of her and holds in a laugh. Dieter Bravo. With a vacuum cleaner. Haphazard tracks in the carpet show he's missed just about as much of the room as he's cleaned but it's cute that he's making an effort. He's changed since she saw him this morning too. Just shorts and a worn faded tee but it's the first time she's seen him in something fit for the public.
She slips her phone from her pocket and snaps a quick picture and the movement must catch his eye because he cuts the machine off and grins at her.
"You know that's not actually a stain remover, right?" Ava asks, pointing from the vacuum to the spot on the carpet he'd been going over repeatedly when she'd arrived. "You need a shampooer. Completely different. There's probably one around here somewhere though."
"Yeah, probably. Maintenance room. I wouldn't know how to use it. Which is weird because I used to help out around here when I was a kid, you know? Earn my allowance or whatever," Dieter babbles. Is he really talking about vacuums and allowance? What the hell is wrong with him?
"Wait, you're like actually from here? Somehow that tidbit never made it in TeenBeat," Ava smiles. "We vacationed here a lot when we were younger. I used to think it would be so cool to live at the beach year round. Did you like it?"
"The beach? Yeah, mostly. The motel? Not particularly. But my grandparents owned it so I uh, I spent a lot of time here growing up," Dieter shrugs as he starts winding up the cord to the vacuum. No way is he getting into his whole shitty childhood story with her. "You said you have some work to do?"
Ava blinks at the abrupt subject change and takes a step back from the doorway to the inner office. Maybe she misread the whole situation? Hell, maybe his dumb ass left the note on the wrong damn door and she shouldn't even be here.
"Oh. Yeah. Job hunting really. But it kinda seems like I'm bothering you? So I can just sit out here?" Ava gestures behind herself to the reservation desk. "Give me like half an hour and I'll get out of your hair."
"I know you really don't have the room for like a business center or anything, but if you got the continental breakfast going again," Ava continues talking even as she turns away from the office and drops her messenger bag on the reservation desk. "Put in some two top tables, it would give people the option to get some work done. Or not. I mean, probably not the clientele you're catering to. What do I know?"
"You're not bothering me and what do you mean get the continental breakfast going again? That's still a thing, right? I mean, that was a thing Anika did. I think?"
"Anika? That was the blonde?"
"Yeah," Dieter nods. "She was doing all the day-to-day stuff. Or all the stuff really, I was just, you know, signing the checks."
"Well, I hate to tell you this, but there's like four rotten bananas and half a blueberry muffin over there, no one's eating that shit."
"I have no idea what I'm doing," Dieter mutters, dragging a chair out of the back office and sitting down next to her at the desk.
"I've noticed. I can help. While I'm here. If you want," Ava shrugs. "I've never worked at a motel, but I've stayed at plenty."
"What's in it for you?"
"You comp the rest of my stay?" Ava grins. "And I think you mentioned pizza? That's a good start."
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Text
Dennis writes a letter 💌
(My fic for @its-always-ziney-in-philadelphia 's Valentine's Day zine)
Read here on AO3, here for the full zine, or below the cut!
It starts with a box of chocolates, as all romantic gestures that Dennis has read about do. He buys them from this fancy place in Rittenhouse Square that charges an extra five bucks for gift wrap, though he manages to charm the guy behind the counter into waiving it and walks out of there only twenty bucks lighter. 
Once home, he attaches a tag to the box- For Mac, from Dennis- and stands back to admire his work. He places the box in the kitchen for Mac to find when he gets there, at which point Dennis is sure Mac will throw himself at his feet with words of praise for his boyfriend’s gesture. Plus, this is only the first step of his grand plan for Valentine’s Day, the entirety of which involves far more than just chocolate. He is going to blow. Mac’s. mind. 
At least, this is the way Dennis envisions things going. 
How it actually goes?
“Oh, sweet, Den! That’s so cool!”
Dennis tries not to let the disappointment show on his face at his roommate’s lacklustre reaction to what he is sure amounts to a proper gesture of affection... right? Every website he scoured told him that there was no clearer message of affection than a box of chocolates on Valentine’s, and yet Mac only claps him on the back and walks off with them after Dennis humbly presents his offering. Like it was nothing more than a bag of chips or a takeaway pizza. 
He stands there in the kitchen for a few seconds after he hears the door to Mac’s room close, blinking as his brain short circuits. 
What the flying fuck is he doing wrong?
His next attempt at proving his love for Mac according to the five-step plan Dennis has constructed involves breakfast in bed, a true staple of the romantic flicks the two of them used to (platonically) watch every so often before the themes became too confronting. He wakes up bright and early on the morning of February 14th and sets to work on his creation in the kitchen while Mac remains asleep. It’s not a simple affair, either- there’s bacon to be cooked, and eggs, and pancakes dotted with blueberries that Dennis very nearly burns himself trying to flip.
Cooking isn’t something he does very often, after all. It’s a little harder than he anticipates. 
Still, he manages to arrange the plate perfectly, even the side toast is the exact shade of golden brown that he knows Mac likes. Any darker, and Mac says the carbon makes the bread toxic. Dennis isn’t quite sure that’s true, but he’s not going to risk serving Mac poison on Valentine’s Day of all days. 
He’s just about to pick up the tray and turn around when he hears Mac’s door open. His stomach drops. 
No. No. Get back in there, Ronald McDonald, or so help me God I’m going to-
“Den! You’re up early.”
Dennis wheels around to face him, cheeks aglow. “Uh, Mac- yeah, I was just- I was just making you breakfast.”
Mac stretches in his doorway, though one hand still remains at his side- a hand that Dennis soon realises is holding a gym bag. 
“That’s nice of you, dude, but I’m heading to the gym. You made some for yourself too, right?”
Dennis glances back at the worktop, though he’s not quite sure why. He knows that he didn’t make himself any, because of course he didn’t. Breakfast isn’t his thing. 
“Uh, yeah, I...”
“Sweet. I’ll see you around later, alright?” Mac wanders over to Dennis and presses a kiss to his cheek, eyes moving briefly to the tray. “Hah. Cool. Looks almost like a smiley face.”
Dennis watches him leave with a growing pit in his stomach, and barely forces out a fake chuckle at the ‘coincidence’, that tapers off the moment the door to the apartment closes. He picks up the tray and curls his lip at the ridiculous face which stares back at him, almost taunting, and the heart shaped toast he’d carefully cut out with a knife. 
He throws the whole thing directly in the trash. 
**
The bar is empty when Dennis arrives. Mac’s still at the gym, Dee’s probably still in bed, and Charlie and Frank are probably fucking around playing some Valentine’s version of NightCrawlers. 
It doesn’t matter, though. Dennis is glad that he’s alone because it means he can place step 3 of his Grand Valentine’s Day Plan right on top of the bar ready for when Mac enters- a little vase of flowers, each one picked out especially for the occasion. He’d endured the allergen hell that was the florists for Mac, and even now the pollen makes his nostrils itch, yet he doesn’t consider abandoning his plan for a second. The chocolates and the breakfast in bed were missteps. This will prove to Mac just how he feels. It’s written there, spelled out in the petals. 
Baby’s breath symbolising everlasting affection. Bluebells for humility. Pink Camellia for longing. Daisies for loyalty. Heliotrope for devotion. 
Red Chrysanthemums- I love you. 
He spends a few moments longer arranging them to look their best, then slips a little note underneath the vase for Mac to see once he picks them up. The action means he has to muffle a few sneezes into his elbow, but it’s worth it. 
Tired from his early morning escapades (nobreakfastnobreakfastnobreakfast), he pulls himself into the back room and flops down onto the desk chair. The moment he closes his eyes, he falls asleep. 
When he wakes, he can hear footsteps and conversation outside, and his pulse leaps at the realisation that it means Mac has discovered his gesture. He stands up and tugs nervously at the fingers of his right hand, then opens the door to the main bar. This is it. This is his chance to explain what each flower means, and in doing so assure Mac that though he may not have said it in words yet, he’s said it in petals. He loves him. 
The moment Dennis turns to the spot where the flowers should be, though, his stomach sinks. They’re not there. 
He can do nothing but stand there for a few seconds, brain short-circuiting as he tries to figure out what could have possibly occurred to displace his gift, when he sees Mac pop up from behind the bar, apparently having been crouched under there cleaning a soda pipe. 
“Hey Den! You feeling okay?”
Dennis doesn’t know whether the question is posed because of his impromptu nap or the way the light has probably faded from his eyes, but it doesn’t matter. He clears his throat and replies,
“What happened to the flowers on the bar?”
Mac’s expression morphs into one of understanding- or, at least, a false sense of understanding, given Dennis knows exactly what he’s going to allude to. 
“Ah, right, of course! See, I knew they were going to give your allergies trouble, which they obviously have- sorry dude, I don’t know who put them there- so I got Dee to throw them out the back.” He grins, so assured of his good deed that he looks like a proud puppy after completing his first successful trick. 
Dennis, meanwhile, feels the familiar weight of disappointment heavy on his shoulders. 
“Ah... cool. Right. I’m... I’m gonna go outside for a smoke. Don’t wait up for me.”
Mac makes a slightly confused face, but lets Dennis trudge to the back anyway. Once outside, it  doesn’t take long for the latter to see the bunch of flowers sticking out of the trash can, their stems bent, a few errant petals scattered across the ground. Dennis’ fists curl up with frustration. He wanders over to his ruined gift and shoves it a little further into the trash, a low growl building in his throat when it refuses to goddamn go down. Stupid fucking idea. Stupid fucking gift. Stupid fucking Valentine’s Day. Stupid fucking-
“Dennis?”
Oh. Fantastic. The last person he wants to see right now is here. 
He sighs, rolling his shoulders, and doesn’t turn around until he’s convinced he’s not about to let how upset he is show. “What do you want, Dee?”
She’s standing just outside the back entrance to Paddy’s, brows creased with almost concern. “Is this about the flowers you put out for Mac?”
Dennis’ ears flush so red he can feel their temperature rise. He hates being a twin sometimes. 
“What do you care?” he snarls. 
She doesn’t retreat beneath his anger. Never has. Instead, she merely sighs, holding a little scrap of paper aloft that Dennis recognises with a pang of dread. “I found this underneath the vase while I was picking it up to throw out.”
Her brother says nothing. What can he say?
“You were inviting him for dinner? On Valentine’s?”
It doesn’t sound like she’s mocking him, but his own vulnerability being parroted back at him hurts all the same so he marches forward, snatching the note from her grasp before wheeling back around and pacing in front of the dumpsters. “Just- just fuck off, alright, Dee? I’m not in the mood.”
“Well, tough shit, dickbag. You’re my brother. Unfortunately, whether you like it or not, I’ve become wrapped up in this love affair between you and Mac, and somehow the fact that you’re asking him out on a date for Valentine’s is almost touching to me... Y’know, Mac didn’t see the note, Den.” Despite himself, Dennis freezes. “He saw the flowers, that’s all, and the only reason he got rid of those was because he thought someone else left them in there, and he was worried they were going to set your allergies off.” 
Dee gives him a once-over, wrinkling her nose at the redness she seems to perceive in his. “Apparently for good reason.”
Dennis rolls his eyes. 
“Look, what I’m saying is he didn’t do this maliciously. In fact, it was the opposite. He was trying to look out for you.”
“Yeah, well, I wish he’d open his goddamn eyes for once!” Dennis growls, still pacing like a caged tiger. “I don’t get it, Dee. I’m doing everything that I’m supposed to do.”
“Everything you’re... supposed to?”
Dennis pauses, looking at her as though she only has half a brain. Throws up his hands in exasperation. “Yeah! I followed all the stupid steps on these stupid websites to show him that I care about him, and for what? The stupid idiot doesn’t even notice!”
He’s aware that he’s said ‘stupid’ way too many times, but he’s angry, and the coherence in his head evaporates before it can reach his lips. Dee doesn’t seem phased by his outburst in the least. 
“Look,” she says, far too gentle for comfort. “Have you ever wondered why he doesn’t notice these things?”
Dennis quirks a brow. Waits for her to do what she’s never done before, and enlighten him. 
“Alright, let’s break it down. It won’t take long. Who, in Mac’s life, has ever shown him proper affection?”
The question catches him so off guard that the first reaction Dennis has is to chuckle. That’s ridiculous. Of course Mac has... he’s... A cool flood of realisation washes over him like the sweat of a bad dream. The mirth fades from his features, and his arms fall limply to his sides. Oh. 
Nobody.
Dee smiles a little. “Get it now?”
Dennis swallows and looks her in the eyes with the sincerest expression he’s ever mustered. “So- so what the fuck do I do then? How am I supposed to show affection to a guy who doesn’t even know what that looks like?”
“How did we show each other, Den? Back when we were kids?”
He feels his features soften, and as he looks at his twin sister, he’s half compelled to hug her. 
Of course. 
“Thank you.” He murmurs. 
Dee only nods towards the exit of the alley. “Yeah. I know. Go do what you gotta do, asshole. I’ll tell Mac to dress pretty for his date tonight, alright?”
**
For once, Dennis is sat in Guigino’s before Mac arrives, his leg bouncing up and down beneath the best table in the restaurant (far from any fans or kitchen doors). He’s checked his appearance in his compact mirror ten times already, but that doesn’t stop him from hazarding another quick look while the coast is clear. 
Usually, he’s only dressed in a shirt and pants- perhaps a little more formal than his day-to-day attire, but nothing to write home about. Tonight, however, he’s jazzed it up with a proper suit jacket and matching pants, plus a pocket square that perfectly resembles the shade of his shirt. His hair is styled in that carefully constructed muss of curls which is so particular to His Look™ at the moment. He’s wearing Mac’s favourite cologne. He’s wearing just a touch of mascara. He’s wearing the most nervous expression he’s ever sported in his life. 
There’s no fanfare when Mac walks in, as much as Dennis would’ve liked that, but it seems to play in his head regardless, because damn. Mac. Looks. Good. 
Evidently, he got Dee’s memo about dressing fancy, and for once he’s ditched the monthly dinner polo in favour of an actual dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows accentuating the muscles of his arms. His hair isn’t gelled, and Dennis thinks the slightly fluffy look he’s rocking is hot as shit. It reminds him of when times were a little bit simpler. Back when labels were things you put on diagrams instead of complicated relationships with your roommate. 
Still, as Mac wanders towards the table, a smile lighting up his expression like summer’s sunshine, Dennis finds himself somewhat glad that things have changed. 
Because tonight, unlike twenty years ago, Mac is his boyfriend. 
“Hey.” Dennis greets, standing up to meet him, cheeks uncharacteristically flushed. 
Mac grins. “Uh, hi- wow, dude, you look good.”
Despite how much it makes him want to puff out his chest like a proud little robin, Dennis restrains himself and merely smiles back. “So do you, babe.”
Babe. The word feels almost unfamiliar on his tongue when used for Mac, given that they’ve spent much of their adult lives calling each other ‘dude’ or ‘bro.’ Still, Dennis needs to show Mac that he’s serious about all that romance shit. If that means peppering in a few pet names to get him primed, count him in. 
They sit down, and after ordering and receiving their food, the conversation flows almost like usual. Dennis tries to forget that he was ever frustrated at Mac for missing the overt gestures he was making, and focuses instead on just how much he’s missed sitting down like this and catching up. It may have only been a few days in reality, but given that Dennis’ mind has been fixed on making plans instead of the recipient of them (his boyfriend), it feels like far longer. 
Eventually, they finish their meal, and usually it would be time for them to start getting ready to leave. Tonight, though? Tonight, Dennis holds out a hand when Mac stands up, and bids him sit down a little longer. 
“I... I wanted to... to give you something.” He says. “For Valentine’s Day.”
And with this, he removes a piece of paper from his pocket, and hands it to Mac. The contents are still fresh in his mind from the hours he spent agonizing over each word, and he hears them in his head while he glances up every so often at Mac’s eyes gliding along the page.  
Mac,
For the last few weeks I’ve been trying to think of what to do for today. I spent hours researching romantic gestures online, and I tried to enact them- but I’d failed to realise that what we have is different from the relationships in tabloids and novels. We’re real, Mac. It’s not always as simple as the movies. 
I told Dee about this (I know, but please hear me out) and she reminded me of something we used to do when we were kids, and Mom and Dad wouldn’t let us talk to each other for some punishment or other. We used to write letters. It started as a necessary tactic to skirt around the rules and communicate, but it turned out to be easier expressing things in a letter than saying them out loud, so I thought I’d do the same thing here. 
Here goes...
I love you, Mac. There it is in writing, so you can show it to me whenever you piss me off with your Borat impressions and excessive hair gel. Because it’ll still be true. I love you. 
It’s not much of a Valentine’s gift, but it’s the one thing I want to give you more than anything, now until the end of time. 
Yours always,
Den. 
Dennis spends the whole duration of the letter tugging on his earlobe, eyes fixed on the white tablecloth. The prospect of Mac recoiling at this rare expression of vulnerability is terrifying. Even now, Frank’s denunciations of anything that made his son seem like a ‘nancy boy’ echo in his mind, and it takes that repetitive tugging to keep himself from reaching over and setting the evidence of feelings alight by the flame of the candle on the table. 
But then Mac reaches over, and slowly, gently, takes Dennis’ free hand. Dennis looks up. 
He doesn’t even need to wait to hear Mac say it- it’s written in his eyes just as clearly as on the paper in his hand. 
Love. 
And Dennis’ lip trembles beneath the weight of it. 
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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years
Text
Awake My Soul • 5
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
WC: 4.2k
Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.
Chapter Note: Forced proximity time!! Y'all might hate or love me for this and honestly I cannot wait to hear what you think LOL. Enjoy ;)
Series Masterlist / Series Playlist
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You got to the lookout station fifteen minutes before your shift started, climbing up the ladder to the treehouse-looking structure they built by the front gate. 
The original brick wall was wide enough for anyone to walk along, but this post served as the central spot for those on watch. Hanging from the top of the A-frame roof that covered the small square surface was a makeshift chandelier that Bruce put together, with five light bulbs. One in the center that provided a soft, amber glow in the space for you to see what you were doing, surrounded by four smaller bulbs that correlated with the different sides of the wall. Green was East, Blue was West, North was Yellow, and South was Red. He had managed to create some sort of sensors along the trees that made them light up if someone walked through the invisible barrier.
“The color you’ll most often see is yellow, and that’s usually when it’s one of us returning to camp,” Sarah told you when she gave you the rundown of the watch post earlier that day. “We haven’t had an issue other than a walker here and there. It’s pretty rare thanks to the protection of the fog and the Bog.”
You grimaced. “You couldn’t have thought of a better name for the Bog that didn’t rhyme with fog?”
Sarah frowned. “I’ve actually never used both words in a sentence back to back like that. It’s pretty terrible.” The two of you laughed.
Clint was there when you made it to the top of the post, playing around with his bow. 
When he looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Need something?”
You shook your head. “I’m here to relieve you.”
This time, his brows shot up. “You’re on third?”
“Yelena made me switch.”
He paused. “And Bucky still has this shift?”
Your nostrils flared, and after a beat you nodded.
Clint only chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up. “What’d you do to piss her off?”
“Nothing!” you protested, crossing your arms. “She says it’s going to help us bond or whatever.”
Instead of a chuckle, Clint snorted. “What a fuckin’ piece of work.” He sighed. “Do you want me to switch with you? You can take second shift and I can be here with Buck-”
“No, no.” you held a hand up waving off the gesture. “I appreciate the offer, but you do enough around here and I need to start earning my keep. Besides, she’s not wrong. Bucky may hate me for the rest of eternity, but if I’m going to stay here I gotta get used to it.”
He shook his head, gaze turning sympathetic. “Just give him-”
“Time,” you finished for him. “Everyone says that.” Annoyance rose within you. “It’s been a month, Clint, and the concept of me breathing the same air as him makes the guy angry. I put the people he cares about in danger, and I gotta own that if I want to be part of Shield.” 
Clint’s eyes flashed behind your shoulder, but you were too riled up to notice. “And yes, part of me wishes he could see that I’m not going to burn this place down and that I would gladly die for anyone here, even his grumpy ass. But that’s not going to happen and we all just need to move on and let him despise me for everything I am.”
Your breathing was heavy, but you had finally picked up on the fact that Clint wasn’t mindlessly staring past you, his focus was on something.
Someone.
Dread coursed through you as you turned, knowing full well who was standing behind you.
Bucky’s jaw was locked shut, eyes on yours for a moment before going to the ground.
Clint cleared his throat, making his way to the ladder. “Have a good night, you two.” He muttered a good luck as he started climbing down.
You stood there in silence for a few seconds, and since this was your first watch and you had no idea what you were doing, you were forced to remain there and wait for instructions.
“So…” you started, and that seemed to break Bucky from his spell.
He cleared his throat, moving to one of the corners overlooking the outside of camp. “You can sit wherever,” he mumbled almost incoherently, leaning his back against the vertical wooden post that made up a piece of the wall.
You ran your tongue over your teeth, then walked over to the corner across from his. You stared at him for a moment, waiting for further instruction. When none came, you simply followed his lead and kept your focus on the outside. 
Bucky didn’t say anything for the next four hours.
Just kept staring in the same direction, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. And you found yourself continuously staring at him, eyes flickering over to view his side profile glowing underneath the illumination from the light above. 
It was torture.  
For some reason, you found yourself suffocated by the proximity. He was less than five feet away, and you were certain that if you moved your foot over by just a few inches it would connect with his leg. The idea of touching Bucky at all made you want to set your skin on fire. Your head pounded, the air constricted from your lungs, you couldn’t see straight because all you could think about was how close you two were. Think about what would happen if your boots touched, if he shuffled a few feet closer, if he leaned in and-
“Are you okay?” he asked, brows furrowed with annoyed confusion and your eyes widened at the realization that you had most likely been staring at him for way too long and he could no longer ignore it.
You cleared your throat. “‘M fine.” Your gaze went back to the trees as your face burned, and through your peripherals you watched Bucky follow suit and turn toward the outside.
There was a moment that his thumb started tapping against the wood to some unknown beat, and you nearly spoke up to ask what song he had stuck in his head.
But when you turned to him, you quickly thought against it. Not because he had his normal pissed off at the world expression, but the complete opposite. His jaw had relaxed, his eyes had softened. For the first time since those few good moments you shared before shit went to hell at the Bog, Bucky appeared to be at peace.
It would be the worst thing you could ever do in your life to speak up and put him back in his grumpy state.
So with that, you returned your focus on keeping watch, eyelids growing heavy as the night sky slowly transitioned from black to a deep indigo,then to a soft purple glow as the sun began to rise.
The second Sam was up the ladder to relieve you, Bucky shot up without a word and climbed down.
Sam looked from the ladder to you, a single brow raised. “That bad, huh?”
You sighed, slowly moving to stand, your muscles sore from being in the same position for so long. “Honestly? I thought it was going to be much worse.”
He huffed, then rested a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I told Yelena that this would just be on a trial basis. If you want off this shift-”
“No, Sam,” you said, shaking your head. “You all have done so much for me, the least I can do is suck it up and sit in silence with Bucky for a few hours a day.” 
Please don’t take this time from me, you thought out of nowhere.
All he did was nod in response, then moved to settle himself for his shift.
You watched Bucky make his way across the camp.
Instead of going to the bunks to get some sleep, he walked into the middle building.
Was he really going to get a workout in after being up all night? 
It’s not like it was the time that he normally went to the gym. That slot was usually in the early afternoon after he had gotten some rest and eaten.
Weird…
You, on the other hand, happily and slowly trudged toward your room and passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow, a soft tapping of an unfamiliar beat playing in your mind and lulling you to sleep.
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“So there’s this charge they created for the rifle. It’s this crazy blue color and disintegrates anything in its path.” You grimaced as you remembered the sight of ten walkers being turned to dust. “It was like an icy blue flame. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
You looked between Bruce’s contemplative look and Peter’s wide eyes before looking back at the very amateur drawing you put together for them.
Bruce ran his fingers along the center part of the device, his other hand wrapped around the lower part of his face as he considered the development of such a weapon.
“Holy shit,” Peter finally murmured, “I can’t believe that made a ray gun.”
You and Bruce both stared at Peter for a moment and he blushed, focusing his attention back on the diagram.
“I remember hearing them talk about getting the charge to a certain temperature to generate such a concentrated amount of heat. And that all of those things worked together so that it wouldn’t even make a sound-”
“Because of the frequency created by the force of the heat,” Bruce continued, writing a few equations on the paper. 
You nodded. “I just have no idea how they created that charge mechanism….sorry I can’t be more help, Doc.”
Banner shook his head, taking off his glasses to look at you. “Y/n, this is amazing. I would have never come up with something like this.”
“Yeah, like we’ve played around with a bunch of stuff, but who could have thought that tech like this could exist?” Peter added.
You shrugged. “Who would have thought that people would want ray guns during a zombie apocalypse?” 
Peter laughed and you winked at him.
“We definitely have a lot to work with to try to replicate this device,” Bruce continued. “Would it be okay for us to come back to you with any questions when they come up?”
“Definitely,” you said. “You know where to find me…bonus points if you rescue me from watch.”
He chuckled. “Heard about that. Things going as terribly as expected?”
You rolled your eyes. “I mean, he hasn’t said more than a dozen words to me in a week, which I guess is better than him yelling at me four hours a day.”
Bruce’s lips turned down in deliberation. “Honestly, that seems pretty promising.”
“Also, I totally offered to take his spot if he was too miserable and he said no without even pausing to think about it,” Peter added. 
You felt warmth run through you at the admission, and you couldn’t stop the corner of your lip from turning up.
Bruce pointed a pencil at Peter, brows raised and he smiled at you. “See? What’d I tell ya? Give it time and he’ll come around!”
At that, you grimaced. “Maybe, but I wish time passed faster than a glacial pace when we’re sitting there not doing anything for hours.”
“Why don’t you bring a book with you? Or a journal if you prefer writing.”
You gaped at Bruce. “You can do that?”
“Of course! We have a library at our disposal, and we have the light over the post for a reason. As long as you look up every few minutes to check that everything is clear, there’s no harm in it.”
“Fuck yes,” you groaned, head tilting back to the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Bruce. “You just made everything….so much better. Thanks, Doc.”
He smiled. “Anytime.”
You smiled back before looking at the clock on the wall. “Shit, I gotta get going guys, before Lena decides to punish me with burpees for being tardy.”
Peter scowled. “What are you still doing here? Go! Before it’s too late!”
The two of you laughed as you made it out into the hallway.
“Hey, Y/n!” Bruce called, and you turned to find him jogging over until he was right next to you. He turned around to make sure Peter wasn’t paying attention and when he looked back at you, you suddenly felt nervous. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?”
You swallowed back the nerves, forcing a smile and keeping your voice casual. “Of course, Bruce. Everything okay?”
He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just…wanted you to know.”
You nodded back, trying to ignore the panic building at the possible meaning behind his words. “Gotcha. Well, thanks Bruce.”
“Anytime, Y/n.”
He turned away and headed back into the lab, leaving you there to deal with the unspoken tension lingering in the air.
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That night, you started with your normal routine of relieving Clint a few minutes early and settling into your corner.
You stared outside the wall, doing a quick scan for any unusual activity. Once it was deemed safe, you dug into your pack and pulled out the book you spent hours looking for while browsing the library, nearly buzzing with excitement at the idea of four uninterrupted hours of reading.
It had been years since you had been able to do something like this. Before the invasion, you would spend entire weekends holed up in your room by the window escaping into a world found between the pages of the various tomes you found either at your town library or the personal library your parents had amassed over the years. Then, there were occasionally quiet moments while traveling with your parents and the Eternals, but you could only carry two books with you at a time.
Whenever you found an abandoned bookstore or library, you traded one of the books for a new one for you to read over and over and over again until you basically had it memorized.
The second book, though, was one you would never let go of. It was the one you kept with you ever since the invasion, when your family was forced to run from your home.
You couldn’t help but grab the book from your nightstand, your favorite comfort read, one you knew you could never part with.
Not unless you were forced to.
Not unless you were kidnapped and the small number of items you had were taken from you.
When you escaped from Hydra, you had nothing but a single dagger. It took days of scouring different spots for new weapons and supplies. 
And whenever you found an abandoned bookstore or library, you desperately searched the shelves for one title.
It was never there.
And unfortunately, after hours of looking through the Brookfield library, it wasn’t in their collection either.
You hoped you would find it eventually.
Until then, you had plenty of other stories to keep you busy.
Bucky climbed up the ladder quietly, and though you didn’t look up at him upon entry, you could see through your peripherals that he paused and stared at you for a few moments before claiming his usual spot in the corner next to yours. 
The relief of having some sort of distraction from his silent existence and close proximity nearly made you want to cry as you turned each page, following Bruce’s orders and checking to make sure no alarm was off and that you couldn’t hear anything approaching.
As usual, there was nothing to be alarmed of. The only thing you could see was Bucky’s head turning in your direction every minute on the dot, as if he were counting the seconds until it was deemed appropriate for him to look over again. And the only thing you could hear was the chaotic tapping of his thumb, much different from the beats he created in his mind.
He was restless.
And then, suddenly, not even thirty minutes into watch, he spoke.
“Are you reading Twilight?”
You looked up from the page to find him openly staring at you now, his brows knit together at the realization.
“You know Twilight?” you asked, answering his question with a question.
He scowled, looking away as if already done with the conversation.
For you, however, it had just started.
The corners of your mouth twitched up. “Have you….have you read these before?”
Bucky rolled his eyes, but did turn his gaze back to you. Rather than looking pissed, he just looked annoyed. 
You could live with that.
“I didn’t, because I have taste,” he said. “But Becs - my sister - went through a phase and tried to drag me along every step of the way.”
An ache formed in your chest realizing the existence of a sister, who wasn’t here at camp and that could really only mean one thing.
This wasn’t the time for bummers, though. You were determined to get him to say at least ten more words to you tonight.
“So you’re saying you’ve seen the movies.”
His lips pressed into a thin line and you scoffed.
“You’re telling me that the CGI baby and the weird blue filter used in the first movie didn’t immediately compel you to binge read the entire series?”
That’s when it happened.
The greatest moment probably of your entire life.
Bucky Barnes laughed.
It was a chuckle that only lasted a beat, but it wasn’t something hidden behind a groan of a scoff like before. You had caught him so off guard that he couldn’t help but let out a deep, grizzly, baritone sound of amusement.
And just as Sarah said over a month ago, it was contagious, and you breathed out a small laugh yourself in wonder.
Somehow it got even better, because then he made a fucking joke.
“The werewolves definitely almost pulled me in, but then one of them imprinted on a literal baby and I was quickly turned off by that.”
You nodded. “The whole Nessie thing was a bit of a mess, I’ll admit. But that’s what’s so good about it! It’s bad….but also amazing.”
All you got in response was a grunt of acknowledgement, and you felt a newfound boldness to keep going.
“Okay then, if you’re not a Twihard, what’s your favorite book?”
There was a pause.
“Please tell me it’s some cheesy romcom,” you said.
He glared at you again, once again without any true malice. “The Hobbit.”
“Fuck yes, that’s such a good one! And it’s on the shelves. We could do a book club and everything.”
In a flash, you witnessed Bucky’s eyes lighten with excitement and then immediately switch to a dim, lifeless gaze. “No.”
You swallowed, caught off guard by the emptiness in his voice.
It was more conversation than you had ever dreamed of having, and you knew that if you ever wanted to have it happen again you would have to know when to stop pushing him.
For now, hearing his voice, his laugh, seeing something other than disdain in his eyes, it was enough.
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The next evening, Bucky decided it was time to continue the conversation.
“What’s your favorite book?” he asked just as you got to the part where Bella had basically  jumped Edward in the meadow.
You looked up to find him staring outside the wall, but then he slowly turned his head to you when you didn’t respond.
“Is it Twilight?” he asked with a cocked brow.
You hummed, shaking your head. “Top ten for sure, but no.”
Silence. “So…?” Bucky urged.
“Ella Enchanted,” you said finally, closing the book and positioning your body to face him.
He frowned. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a kids book,” you replied. “And a stellar movie with Anne Hathaway. But it’s been my comfort read since I was, like, ten or something. I even took it with me when we had to leave after this-” you waved your hand around, “-started to happen.”
Bucky nodded in understanding. “Do you still have it?”
You shook your head. “Lost it during the Hydra shitshow.”
“Is it in the library?” he pressed.
Another shake of your head and he nodded again.
“Don’t worry,” you said, “I’m sure I’ll find it by the time you’re done going through the Twilight Saga.”
He scowled, an expression you realized you loved way too much. “There is no way in hell.”
“Come onnnn,” you whined. “For the book club!”
The right corner of his lip twitched. “No way.”
You sighed dramatically, opening the book back up. “You’re no fun, Beefcake.”
He groaned.
You smiled.
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The next day, you went to the library to grab New Moon. 
When Bucky got up to the watchtower, his eyes landed on the copy of Twilight resting in his corner.
Even with your eyes glued to the page of your book, you could feel him glaring at you.
“Just suck it up and read it,” you said, still not looking at him. “You can thank me later.”
With one long, dramatic sigh, Bucky picked up the book and sat down, opening up to the first page.
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from grinning like an idiot.
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“Look,” Bucky started, waving the book in the air. “I just don’t understand why she’s so in love with this dude!”
He had been going on for at least five minutes now, you just sitting there listening to him ramble.
“Sure, he saves her from those guys in the town or whatever, but then nearly kills her by driving like an idiot-”
“But he has super enhanced bat senses!” you argued, fighting to keep your face serious.
That was when Sam climbed up, brows already furrowed from hearing actual conversation being shared between you two as he made his way up the ladder.
Bucky ignored Sam and glared at you. “Okay, but what about other cars on the road? I saw that scene play out in the movies. They had to weave and bob around vampire boy and totally could have caused an accident!”
He stood up and you followed suit, giving Sam a nod and a little shrug as he continued to stare at you.
Bucky, on the other hand, continued to talk as he made his way down the ladder. Usually, you would wait for him to race down and run away as quickly as possible, but since he apparently wasn’t done with this conversation, you decided to follow right behind.
“Okay, whatever, he drives like an idiot and tells her that he basically has anger issues and basically that he’s dangerous for her. And in the movie, she like made him follow her into the woods by the school, which was already dumb. In this, though? He drives her to an isolated place a mile into woods where it would take weeks for someone to find her body? And she’s still all heart eyes?”
He got to the bottom, and stood there until you stepped onto the ground before walking alongside you. 
“It’s called love, Beefcake! Sometimes you do dumb shit like go into the middle of the woods with a vampire who is over 100 years old and really wants to drink your blood!”
Bucky shook his head, not stopping as you passed the middle building which had been his normal pit stop after watch. You felt something inside you ignite with excitement, trying desperately to keep your cool even though a part of you was certain that you had fallen asleep during watch and all of this was a dream.
“I can’t believe I let Becca read these when we were younger. I basically gave her the go-ahead to seek out dangerous, blood-sucking bad boys.”
You laughed. “Well, at least now you know to be on the lookout for any pale man who asks you to go to an abandoned field so he can confess his undying love for you. But it’s clear that you hate the book, so just know I appreciate you giving it a try and I’ll return New Moon back in the library when I’m done.”
You looked over just as he clenched his jaw before grumbling something incoherently. 
“I���m sorry, what was that?”
“Youcanbringitwithyouwhenyou’redone.” 
You bit your bottom lip and smiled, slowing your steps to a stop as you approached the front door to the bunk house.
“You got it, Beefcake. Anything to keep book club alive and well.”
Bucky smiled back, crystalline blue eyes locked on yours for three glorious seconds.
And then they widened, his lips turned down, and he looked to the ground as he cleared his throat.
“I should go,” he said sternly, turning on his heel and storming over to his usual destination, the gym.
His body tensed more and more with each step he took, and you saw his hand clench so tightly you wondered if his palms were bleeding from his nails digging into his skin.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, memorizing the look of his smile from just a few seconds ago.
Baby steps.
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Chapter 6
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