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mountedeverest · 23 days

Text

Maybe you do know me

Fandom: 911 on ABC Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard Rating: T (very mild smut, some words) Words: 2.8k

Snippet: I’m pathetic… Buck took off his jacket and sat on his bed, exhaling a huff in desperation. He took his head in his hands, wondering how he did it so effortlessly before. Was it really that different, now that it was a man? Should it be? It certainly felt different, but different how? Going back to that night, that moment in his kitchen, Buck tried putting words to the memory. He remembered how Tommy’s eyes burned on him just moments before they kissed, how Tommy’s fingers seared him under his chin, how firm Tommy’s arm felt under the palm of his hand. He also remembered how pliant he had felt after Tommy had kissed him, how gooey it turned his insides, how out of it it made him. Fingers slowly drifted to his lips as Buck remembered the moment that turned his life completely upside down and sat him on his ass hard. He had a word for it now, that feeling: desired. He wanted to feel like that again.

Notes: This is kind of a spec fic for *SPOILERS* Buck and Tommy's date next episode (7x05). I have been unable to function since yesterday and just HAD to get this out of my system! I do intend to continue this fic and bring the rating from T, to M, to eventually, E.

Fic under the cut

—

Buck was a bouncing ball of energy, buzzing as if he’d only just been struck by lightning. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, except run them through his hair, and then curse himself for messing it up. He was excited, nervous, a little terrified. And he was having an outfit crisis.

At first, he’d gone casual chic, fancy but not too fancy, first date and all. Then he’d seen the absurdity of his choice and shifted to a classic henley, leather jacket, cool guy stuff. He felt off somehow, like he was putting on a costume, still vying for attention. He felt like he was dressing up as Eddie.

I’m pathetic… Buck took off his jacket and sat on his bed, exhaling a huff in desperation. He took his head in his hands, wondering how he did it so effortlessly before. Was it really that different, now that it was a man? Should it be?

It certainly felt different, but different how? Going back to that night, that moment in his kitchen, Buck tried putting words to the memory. He remembered how Tommy’s eyes burned on him just moments before they kissed, how Tommy’s fingers seared him under his chin, how firm Tommy’s arm felt under the palm of his hand. He also remembered how pliant he had felt after Tommy had kissed him, how gooey it turned his insides, how out of it it made him.

Fingers slowly drifted to his lips as Buck remembered the moment that turned his life completely upside down and sat him on his ass hard. He had a word for it now, that feeling: desired.

He wanted to feel like that again.

All of a sudden, he knew what he was wearing. His fashion renaissance in the past years had him turning to clothes he wouldn’t have worn at twenty, but now made him feel tender and virile at the same time, comfortable and sexy. It wasn’t much, it certainly wasn’t obscene, but the blue open collared shirt, the slightly high-waisted pants, it accentuated his everything.

The blue of his shirt brought out his eyes, his butt looked great and his waist seemed itty bitty as his shoulders looked broad and huge in the tight fitting shirt.

“Damn…” Buck looked in the mirror, hair fluffed and a blush high on his cheeks. “I’d fuck me.”

As if on cue, he heard a knock at the door. Can’t turn back now, Buck told himself, and strode down the stairs from his bedroom to his door, a little kick in his step.

Buck knew he wasn’t prepared, but he was particularly not prepared to see Tommy on the other side of his door looking like that.

“Hey.” The tone was like gravel and honey, low and sweet and syrupy. Tommy was leaning slightly, a soft smile tugging the side of his mouth. His eyelids were heavy and he smelled good.

Buck auto-combusted right there, his face a fully caramelized beet red now for sure. If a simple chaste kiss had been the catalyst for many inappropriate semis over the past few days (once, when a helicopter flew over his head at the end of a call), this vision of Tommy now – after everything had been put into a new light – was melting him down.

“H-hi, uhh, come inside? You look, I-I mean you look–” Buck’s face spoke for him, all nervous stammering and pointed looks to where Tommy’s shirt was unbuttoned slightly.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Evan.” Tommy answered with a grin, striding into the loft like this wasn’t the most charged moment of his life. Tommy was so cool and collected it was driving Buck crazy.

Bashful, Buck let out a small laugh. “Thanks, picked it out myself too.” Buck didn’t know if this was working or if he was actually being terribly awkward. Tommy’s eyes, however, hadn’t looked anywhere but at Buck since he’d stepped into the loft, and they seemed awfully appreciative of the sight before them.

“Let me just- uh, grab a coat, a-and then we can go?” Buck asked.

“Take your time.” Tommy answered back. His face was soft and fond. “We got all night.”

—

The date went as well as you’d expect for a newly minted bisexual man in his early thirties. Which is to say that Tommy was very patient and also, wow Buck was nervous. Reassurance was not in short supply from Tommy though, who – Buck guessed – must have gone through something similar at some point in his life.

He was starting to calm down and get down with the playfulness of it all when his house of cards fell all around him, blown down by one Eddie Diaz. The odds.

He hadn’t told Eddie yet, the last they’d seen each other was on the court. They had talked, of course. They’re best friends, they made up and talked about everything and nothing. But not about that, not yet.

What followed was the most excruciatingly awkward 10-minute not-double-date with him and Tommy, and Eddie and Marisol, and a big, giant elephant in the room in between all of them. Eddie was insisting on splitting a table with them, How often does that happen?!, but Tommy, the savior that he was, got them out of it.

“As much as we’d love to, we just grabbed the check here and are officially moving on to our next event. But it’s great to see you, man!” Tommy said effortlessly, like Buck wasn’t just stewing in embarrassment on his chair.

“Yeah, i-it’s great to see you, Eds. Hope your ankle’s feeling better!” Buck said in what he hoped was a convincing manner.

“Oh I see what this is.” Eddie said suddenly.

Buck’s stomach dropped. He wanted to tell Eddie, but not like this.

“Tommy, you’re about to sweep the entire 118 off their feet! You sure it’s not just a thinly veiled attempt to come back?” Eddie laughed and Buck deflated instantly.

Oh thank god. Thank god Eddie was so hetero and so stupidly unaware.

“Haha, you got me! Nah, just hanging out. Turns out Evan and I also have plenty in common. Which, seeing how you two are best friends, makes a hell lot of sense.”

“Ach, alas, you’ll probably end up liking him more than me, he’s a much better cook.” Eddie said in mock dejection. “As long as Muay Thai Monday stays up, I’m good.”

“Dunno, we might have a new challenger here, after I train him that is.”

Eddie let out a full bellied laugh. Buck hadn’t seen him this carefree before. Maybe this whole thing between the three of them could be alright.

“Careful, Buck, he’s a lefty.” Eddie said, joyful and oblivious. “Alright, you guys enjoy your night. See you soon!”

—

“Sooo, is there actually a next event, or did you make that up to save me?” Buck asked and Tommy laughed, softly. They walked to Tommy’s truck side by side, bumping shoulders on the way.

“Do you want there to be a next event?” Tommy asked, a tone of suggestiveness in his voice.

“I-I wouldn’t mind.”

“Good. Because I had a little something planned.”

“Oh yeah?” Buck tried not to sound too giddy, the fire in his cheeks calmed somewhat by the cool night air.

“Yeah. Nothing big but,” Tommy smiles. “Mars and Saturn are supposed to be really visible in the sky tonight, I thought we could go up to the Griffith observatory, maybe catch a glimpse in the telescope before they close, and then open a nice claret and stargaze in the grass?”

Buck’s breath gets punched out of him. The attention, the stargazing, it feels all very romantic. He was being wooed, and he was enjoying it.

“That sounds… perfect.”

—

They were laying on their elbows side by side on a blanket and pillows on the sandy grass in one of the more secluded areas of Griffith park. It was harder to access, closer to the cliffs. Tommy called it his secret spot; he’d joked that he’d found it during a call. Next to them, travel mugs half filled with wine abandoned for the moment.

“This is amazing. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I last saw stars.” Buck said.

“Yeah, LA isn’t great for that. Now, the best place to stargaze is Joshua Tree. Set up a tent in the desert, spend the night under the milky way. It’s incredible.” Tommy hit his last word looking at Buck lazily. Feeling his gaze, Buck turned as well. However awkward Buck might have felt at the start of this whole thing, whatever was going on now was much different. It felt electric. “I can take you sometime.”

“I’d love to be taken.” Buck said, a dazed smile tugging at his mouth. Tommy caught the innuendo before Buck could and smirked, just as Buck realized what he’d just said. Thankful the dark night hid his flush once again, Buck cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Anyway, d-did you plan this knowing I’m a huge astronomy nerd? Did Eddie tell you?” Buck said, trying to distract himself from the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

“Mostly, I was looking for an excuse to be alone with you.” Tommy said, low. “If you want that.”

“I do.” Buck said softly, entranced. A beat passed as Buck suddenly realized he should probably attempt to manage expectations. Apart from one-off, meaningless kisses here and there in his 1.0 days, he’s never been intimate with a man. Being kissed by Tommy also made him realize how new he was at this. The last time he was new at intimacy was at fourteen, he never thought he would be there again. “I-I’m not–”

“You’re not what?”

“Experienced.” Buck winced. “Not like that, anyway.”

“It’s okay, Evan. I’m not rushing you. I’m happy going at your pace.” Tommy smiled, eyes hooded.

Buck felt like goo.

“Thing is–” Buck didn’t know if it was the wine, or something else, but a sudden surge of courage overcame him. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else since you kissed me.” Buck held Tommy’s gaze like it was a challenge. He let his eyes fall from Tommy’s eyes to his lips, before licking his own absentmindedly. “And I very much would like to do that again.”

A hand gently grabbed the side of Buck’s face, lips pressed into his own, softly, but with force Buck wasn’t used to. This time, Tommy didn’t waste a second on pleasantries, slipping Buck tongue immediately. It was slow, smooth, fluid. Somewhere in the back of his throat, Buck let escape a delicate moan he wasn’t even aware was there. Tommy responded in kind, slipping his hand in Buck’s hair and tugging slightly.

Buck felt swept away by the kiss, and whatever it was that Tommy was giving him at the moment, he wanted more. The time for experience over eagerness would come, but for now, Buck was at least good at that.

Buck’s hand found purchase on Tommy’s ribs, gripping his shirt. He swiped his own tongue over Tommy’s bottom lip before biting, gently, and turning Tommy back on his elbows. Understanding the invitation, Tommy sat up, and pulled Buck over his lap, his hand leaving Buck’s hair to guide his thigh instead.

Buck had big strong thighs. He had big strong everything, in fact. He wasn’t small in any sense of the term. But here, straddling Tommy, he felt tiny. In the best way.

They were the same height, yes, but Tommy was a bit bigger. He had bigger hands for one, which Buck could feel running up the side of his thighs to his back, sneaking under his shirt. They were warm.

Buck was used to his own hands feeling big on everything, everyone. But not on Tommy. Feeling Tommy’s pecs through his shirt, gripping the back of his head as Tommy bit and sucked into his neck, it was intoxicating.

Tommy was also big somewhere else. Through layers of denim and cotton, Buck felt the unmistakable pressure of a bulge, nestled just under his own. Now in that department, Buck could still win. But if his estimation was correct, as a man who’d never felt any other bulge but his own, that was weapons-grade cock.

The realization made him dizzy with want, but this was going a little fast. He’d only just found out he was into men days ago. He needed to process some things. Either Tommy was a mind reader or really in tune with Buck’s feelings because he slowed down, his kisses becoming less hungry and his touches less searching.

“I should take you home... Before, we commit a felony in Griffith park.” Tommy said, laughing, nose bumping with Buck’s as they kissed gently.

“Pretty sure it’s just a misdemeanor.” Buck chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny in my life.” Buck paused. “But I don’t want to burn any steps.”

“Wise.” Tommy answered back, slightly out of breath.

Neither made a move to detangle themselves at first, until a gust of wind threatened to knock their forgotten wine mugs over.

Quick panic was superimposed with unabashed laughter as they packed, attacked on all sides by the unpredictable winds of southern California. When they got back to the truck, all smiles and giggling, Tommy shot a fond look at Buck, and then kissed him gently.

“What was that for?” Buck asked when Tommy pulled back.

“You should look at yourself right now.” Tommy turned Buck slowly so he could catch his reflection in the truck’s window. He looked debauched.

Buck’s lips were plumper than usual, his neck was raw and red where Tommy’s beard burned him. His shirt was very rumpled and his hair, his hair. Moreover, Buck had this look on his face. It wasn’t naughty, or purposefully misbehaved, but it was pliant, showed his hunger right there on the surface, his absence of shame.

When he caught sight of Tommy behind him in the window, he didn’t look much better. Tommy had a darker look in his eyes, and one of careful restraint, as he squared his hands on Buck’s hips. The slight shift forward made Buck brace himself against the truck with one arm. Silently, he held Tommy’s gaze through the reflection in the glass as the older man placed a tender kiss just behind his ear.

“You’ve probably found it’s very hard to resist you.” Tommy said, low, as he licked the same spot he’d just kissed seconds ago. Buck slipped a hand in Tommy’s hair and, at the same time, used his leverage on the truck’s door to grind his ass backwards into Tommy.

“Hard indeed.” Buck joked.

As if he was stuck in molasses, Tommy untangled himself from Buck with some difficulty.

“Alright let’s get you home. Because I will commit a misdemeanor if we do this much longer.”

—

“I’m walking you to your building’s door and that’s it, because if you invite me up, I will come.” Tommy said in mock-warning as they walked up to the front stairs of Buck’s building.

“I kinda want you to come.” Buck said with a waggle of his eyebrows, suggestiveness all but veiled.

“Look at you cracking jokes. Now, remember what you said about burning steps.”

Buck looked down, bashful. “Yeah, nothing a cold shower can’t fix.”

Tommy smiled wide. “I had a great time tonight.”

“Yeah, m-me too.”

“Is monday too soon for you?”

Buck was taken aback for a second. He hadn’t made it as far as second date in his mind. “Isn’t it your–”

“Muay Thai Monday, yeah, but Eddie’s not ready to fight. Besides, I did say I’d teach you.”

Buck grinned a toothy grin. “Yeah, t-that would be great.”

“Alright, here– just texted you my address. Bring light clothes, it’s gonna get hot. 6PM okay?”

Buck nodded dumbly, his mind still stuck on it’s gonna get hot. As the look registered on Tommy’s face, he made a summary check to see if they had any witnesses before slipping Buck a filthy kiss against the building’s glass door.

Tommy leaned their foreheads together, pulling away after what felt entirely too short of a time in Buck’s opinion. They slowly moved apart, collecting their breaths.

“Oh and,” Tommy said, biting his lip and smiling. “I’m taking a hot shower tonight.”

Buck seized up with ferocious want with what felt like the hundredth time today.

Tommy, proud of himself, started heading towards his truck, giving Buck one last leering look up and down the six-foot three-inches of him.

“Good night, Evan. See you Monday!”

TBC

Tags: @tizniz

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#911 abc #911 spoilers #911 fanfic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #my works

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buckysfaveplum · 2 years

Text

poppy fields

summary: hiding your feelings for your best friend always seemed like the best idea, until you start coughing up flowers (hanahaki au)

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: angst with a happy ending😌, bucky’s trauma, vomiting, blood, talk of sickness and stomach pains, oh and sam calls you sugar cause i think thats cute :)

a/n: okay so i've been gone a minute. my mental state hasn't been good and i honestly just lost motivation for all the things i love. but i wrote this and hope you're all still interested in what i have to share <3

masterlist | send requests

“I don’t know, it feels too casual,” Bucky said, looking at himself in the mirror.

You watched from your place on the bed as his room slowly transformed into a hoarder’s den. His henleys and t-shirts scattered about from his constant changing. Every single one was fine, but Bucky was Bucky. He needed something to fixate on to distract from his anxiety. Tonight it was his shirt.

“Bucky, you’re just going to a diner. It’s perfect,” you said, hoping he’d finally pick the shirt he had on.

The blue henley, your favorite. The one you bought him.

You knew how much he adored his red henley, it was somewhat of his comfort shirt. The soft fabric hugged his chest and arms, making him feel safe and warm. One of the only shirts he still had from his days on the run, fresh from Hydra. But it was beginning to grow tattered and worn. You decided to find him a new one, not to replace the red, but to give him more options for when he had to leave the tower.

Maybe you did too good. As soon as he had his hands on that blue henley, you rarely saw the red. Always blue.

“You sure?” he asked, turning to see your face.

“Do I ever lie to you?” you asked, scooting to the edge of his bed.

“Never.”

Bucky strode across the room over to you, reaching for his gloves on the bed beside you. As he slipped them over his hands, you felt a frown pulling on your face.

“Really?” you asked.

Bucky bit his lip, avoiding your eyes. He knew how much you hated those gloves, how you hated the way he hid his arm. It’d been so long since he wore them, finally feeling comfortable with who he was. So why did he feel the need to pull them out now?

“Yea, I just… I don’t know, I think she’d feel more comfortable if I wore them,” Bucky said, reaching for his leather jacket.

This would be his fifth date with her, the girl he’d told you about a week ago. He seemed excited, excited to tell you about her. About their dates, where they went, what they ate, everything. You couldn’t remember her name, no matter how many times he said it. Her name didn’t matter, all that mattered was it wasn’t yours.

Watching your best friend date around was hard. Watching him get ready and leave you alone for the night while he was out with other women. It was hard, it was hard being in love with Bucky Barnes. The pain of watching him leave was bearable, knowing each night he’d come back and tell you all about how bad the date was. How he couldn’t wait to get out of there. Until he didn’t. Until he started telling you how excited he was for the next one. Until he started seeing her. That pain was all-consuming.

With a soft sigh, you got up and walked over to him. You reached out, fixing the collar of his jacket. You could feel his eyes boring into you as you fidgeted with the tags around his neck. In a few minutes, he’d be gone. And you’d be alone again. Without him.

“I don’t think she should decide if you cover your arm,” you said, looking up at him.

A soft smile spread across Bucky’s face. That goddamn smile. Slightly cheeky and open, his tongue flicking across his teeth.

“She doesn’t, doll,” he said. Gently he reached his hands out, resting them at the sides of your face. He pulled you close and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. Those kisses used to make your heart flutter. Ever since he started seeing her, they just made you want to vomit.

As he pulled back, you felt a tickle growing in your throat. Leaning back, you turned your head into your elbow. A coughing fit racked your body, tearing through your throat in a foreign way.

“You okay, doll?” Bucky asked, resting his hands on your lower back and shoulder.

Slowly, you felt the coughs subsiding. Dying out as you caught your balance, shaking your head and catching your breath.

“Yea, yea I’m fine, Buck,” you said, leaving his arms and grabbing your phone off his bed. “I’m gonna go find Sam, we’re gonna order a pizza.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Bucky said, following you out his bedroom door.

“I’m okay, Bucky,” you said, pressing the button for the elevator. As you waited for the doors to open, you felt another tickle growing in the back of your throat. You suppressed it as the doors opened, quickly stepping inside. Pressing the lounge floor, you turned to Bucky once more, “have fun on your date, plum.”

“Thanks, doll,” he said, with a hesitant grin.

As the doors closed, you stumbled back, grabbing at the handle on the back of the elevator. Another fit of coughs hit you, harder than before. You cupped your hands as you hacked, your back arching in pain. Your hands suddenly felt full.

The coughs once again subsided, and you caught your breath. But looking down into your hands, your face went white.

Three little poppies sat in your palms, crumpled and slightly wet.

Fuck.

—

Days passed and you saw Bucky a bit less as they went by. You tried to distract yourself, throwing yourself into work. Taking on extra missions, opting to do all the paperwork, training extra hard with Steve and Nat. But nothing could take your mind off of him.

The coughing just got worse, with more and more flowers coming up each day. You knew what this was and it wasn’t good. You always heard about the disease but never thought it’d happen to you. Never thought you’d feel the chill run down your back sent by the sight of those first three flowers. Poppies, how ironic.

It was your birthday, a year or two back, but you were too busy to care. And so was everyone else. But not Bucky, of course not. You’d never forget how happy you were when you saw him after coming off the quinjet, covered in grime and sweat. A smile on his face and red poppies in his hands. He’d told you the shop was out of baby’s breath, your favorite. But he always loved poppies. So it became your thing. After every mission apart, you’d get each other flowers. He got you poppies, you got him baby’s breath.

A week after the poppies first came up, baby’s breath joined them.

You knew you couldn’t hide the flowers for long, couldn’t keep holding in coughs around others. Soon they’d grow uncontrollable, and then…. well, you know.

The kitchen was empty as you sauntered in. Digging through the cabinets, you pulled out your tea case. Filled and sorted with different teas you’d collected from different missions all over the globe. Hopefully one of them would help soothe the burning in your throat.

“Hey, y/n,” you looked up from your tea to see Sam leaning across the counter.

“Hey, Sam,” you said, going back to your drink. You reached into the cabinets, grabbing two mugs. It was a habit, whenever you made a cup of tea you’d bring Bucky one as well. But he was out with her. “Tea?”

“Sure, sugar,” Sam said, taking a seat at the island. “Haven’t seen you much outside of missions and training. You’re keeping yourself busy, huh?”

“I guess, have a lot of free time lately,” you said, heating your water.

“Yea, Buck sure has been out with that girl a lot lately.”

“What does that have to do with anything,” you asked, placing your kettle down.

Sam gave you a knowing look, full of understanding and kindness. You didn’t need to say anything, and neither did he. You knew what he meant. So did he. With a sigh, you leaned back on the counter, your arms crossing in front of you.

“He seems happy, I’m happy for him,” you said, avoiding Sam’s eyes.

“Why don’t you just tell him, y/n?” Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Tell him what, Sam?”

“That you love him.”

You turned away, tending to the kettle screaming behind you. As you poured the cups, Sam leaped from his seat, coming to your side. You just focused on your tea, trying desperately to ignore the burning tickle climbing up your throat.

“Come on, y/n. I know he feels the same way. That man is like a lost puppy following you around,” Sam said, grabbing a pack of tea.

“He’s not in love with me, Sam,” you said, placing your tea packet in the mug. The tickle kept growing and growing, threatening to overflow. Flowers threaten to pour out like the water from your kettle. Pour out and expose your years of buried feelings.

“Come on, sugar, it’s obvious. Just tell him,” Sam said.

Your throat burned.

“I know he’ll feel the same way,” Sam continued.

You placed your mug down, feeling a scratch up your esophagus.

“Just tell him how you feel, y/n. He loves you,” Sam said.

“Then why isn’t he here, Sam?” you slammed your hand on the counter, finally looking up at him. “Why is he out at some shitty midtown diner with another woman, while you’re here drinking tea with me from his mug? Why am I constantly watching him run around the city with different women, waiting for him to come back just to tell me about them? Why am I not with him-”

Before you could finish, you felt a rush of coughs take over you. You fell forward, grasping at the counter, heaving and shaking.

“Y/n, sugar, you okay?” Sam said, placing a firm hand on your back to steady you. You kept coughing, trying to keep from blacking out. Your eyes clamped shut as you felt the rush of flowers flowing from your mouth. Slowly, you coughed up the rest, a few red petals falling from your mouth as the coughs died down. Your breaths were labored, trying to focus as black spots danced across your vision.

“Y/n….” You didn’t want to look at Sam, you knew what you’d see. Horror, panic, concern, sympathy. “Sugar, you have-”

“I don’t know what to do, Sam,” you said, feeling tears start to well in your eyes. “I love him, I love him so much.”

Sam’s arms wrapped around you, gently pulling your fragile frame close. He tried to soothe you as your body shook with tears.

“Sugar, you need to tell someone, tell Bucky. Tell him you love him, tell him-” you didn’t let him finish.

“No, Sam, I can’t. I told you, he doesn’t feel the same,” you said, pulling yourself from his arms as you felt yourself regain your balance.

“Y/n, I know he does, just tell him, please. This will kill you,” he said, grabbing your shoulders. You just shook your head. What good would telling Bucky do? He didn’t feel the same. All confessing would do was make him feel pity. Make him feel as though he had to be with you, or else you’d die. Even then, it wouldn’t keep you alive. If he truly didn’t love you, it would do nothing.

“Will you tell Bruce? He can do that surgery, and you’ll be okay,” Sam said.

“I don’t want the surgery, Sam. I don’t…. I don’t want to not love him. I can’t not love him,” you said, feeling yourself growing tired.

“Y/n, please,”

“No, Sam. Just please, please don’t tell anyone.”

“Sugar…”

“Please, Sam.”

—

A week had passed, and you just got worse. Steve had to remove you from the last mission after you almost fainted in training. No coughing, luckily, but Steve wouldn’t have you out in the field until you got your strength back. Without work or Bucky, you found yourself with nothing to do. Nothing but be with your flowers. Nat and Wanda were called on the mission, along with most of the team. Leaving just you, Sam, and Bucky.

Sam let up on insisting you tell Bucky, or see Bruce, but wouldn’t let you be alone. He watched as you avoided Bucky like the plague. Each time he’d try to spend any time with you, you cut the conversation short, rushing to the nearest bathroom to release the build-up of poppies in your throat. Sam saw how Bucky grew worried, seeing you sulk around the tower, your eyes tired and face growing hollow. Something was wrong.

You could feel yourself fading, knowing soon the disease would overtake you. Soon, the flowers would fill your throat, leaving you to choke and suffocate. To die of your unrequited feelings. Surprisingly, you were calm, almost at peace with it.

It was Thursday, laundry day. Normally, Bucky would help you, but you knew that wasn’t an option in your condition. Walking down the hall leading to the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks at a certain voice.

“I just don’t get what’s going on, Sam,” Bucky said. “Why is she avoiding me?”

You stopped just short of entering the room, hiding behind the wall. Your heart raced as you listened in.

“Did I do something? Did I upset her? It’s killing me, I never want to hurt her,” Bucky said. You could hear the desperation in his voice. The slight tremor as he spoke. You knew that tremor, the one that came out in the middle of the night when he awoke from a nightmare. The one that broke through his words as he begged you to hold him, to not leave. That tremor was fear, true fear.

“I don’t know, Buck,” Sam said. You could tell how badly he wanted to tell him the truth. You silently begged him not to. “Maybe she’s feeling neglected?”

“Because of-”

“Yea.”

Your breath picked up, dreading where the conversation was headed. Your hands began to shake, you felt your throat begin to swell. The basket of laundry felt heavy in your hands.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I just… I miss her. I hate this,” Bucky said.

“Well, you have been spending a lot of time with someone else. Which if you're happy with her, that’s cool but-”

“She asked me to be her boyfriend, Sam.”

A loud crash filled the hall as the laundry basket fell from your hands. Your chest burned and you shook as you stumbled back, your hand pressed on your sternum as you desperately tried to get a breath in. Your feet swayed as you walked, baby’s breath falling from your mouth.

Your vision blurred, your head full of cotton. In seconds, you were hacking, poppies all over the hallway floor. Your knees buckled, the coughing sending you falling to the floor. The sounds of flowers pouring out your mouth filled your ears, blocking out everything else. You didn’t hear combat boots rushing down the hall. You didn’t hear Bucky as he desperately shouted your name. You didn’t hear Sam rush to get Bruce.

Your body was heavy, tingling, and growing numb, but you felt familiar arms pull you close.

“Y/n, doll, baby look at me,” Bucky said, his voice shaking with fear. He couldn’t focus on anything but you. He didn’t focus on the trail of poppies behind you, just you.

Your vision was shaky, but between coughs, you looked up at him. He was scared. Terrified. A kind of terrified you’d never seen from him; not from nightmares, not from a panic attack, not from a mission. This was new, this was the worst.

“Doll, baby, come on breathe, you’re okay. Sam’s gonna get Bruce, it’s okay,” Bucky said, holding you and rubbing your back through another fit of coughs. This time he couldn’t ignore the obvious, as you coughed poppies into your lap.

“Y/n…” Bucky froze, looking at you more scared than before. Realization dawned on him. Fuck, this wasn’t good.

The coughs stopped for a moment. You could feel another fit coming, but you took the opportunity to get in a shaken breath. With weak hands, you reached out to fiddle with the silver tags around Bucky’s neck. God, you loved those tags.

“I love these,” you said, resting your head gently against Bucky’s chest. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead, holding you close as another fit took over you. Flowers covered you both. You faintly felt tears drop onto your head as Bucky rocked you. You heard the sounds of Bruce and the med team rushing down the hall, Bucky begging them to help you, just before you blacked out.

—

You awoke to soft beeping and bright white lights. You’d come back from enough major injuries to know you were in the medbay. Your throat felt cleared, the fullness of flowers just settling in your stomach. You took in as many deep breaths as you could, stretching in your bed.

“You’re awake,” weakly, you turned your head to the side to be met with the sight of Bucky. He was hunched in a small chair, pulled impossibly close to the bed. You soon realized he had your hand tight in his own, not painful but firm. Like he was terrified to let go.

“Yea, I’m okay, that was weird,” you said, finally coming to. You tried to sit up quickly, but your vision blurred. You began to hunch forward, but Bucky caught you. He was there like he always was. “Thanks.”

“Y/n, you have -” he started

“I know, Buck,” you said, resting back on the pillows. “Sam tell you?”

“You were choking on poppies,” he said, taking your hand back in his. “y/n, whoever you lo… whoever it is, you have to tell them. They have to feel the same way.”

“They don’t, trust me.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed, the concern and fear on his face only growing.

“Please, doll, tell them. If not, let Bruce remove the roots. He cleared out some flowers, but they’ll come back. Please, babydoll, please you can’t die. I can’t lose you. Please,” Bucky was desperate, his eyes red and puffy from tears. He ducked his head, trying to hide the new wave of tears threatening to fall. Strangely, your stomach began to settle, the pain slightly dulling.

“It’s you,” you said, looking down.

“What?” Bucky asked, his head shooting up to find your gaze.

“It’s you. It’s always been you. I love you and I know you don’t feel the sa- '' you couldn’t finish. Suddenly, you felt two strong hands pull you close. Your lips were pressed against Bucky’s as he held you in his embrace. He was warm, a calming wave that washed away all the pain filling your body. The cool of his metal hand against your cheek was soothing, helping ground you as he deepened the kiss. Your head was spinning, but all you could focus on was Bucky.

Quickly, he pulled back, his hands frantically brushing over your face, keeping you close.

“I love you. I love you so much, babydoll. I love… god, I do feel the same way. You’re it for me, baby, you always have been.” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“But what about…” you asked.

“I was stupid, doll. I was stupid and scared. I’m a mess and I didn’t want to trap you with me. I thought I could find someone else, convince myself I could move on. But I can’t,” Bucky said.

Your stomach fluttered, the fullness of the poppies slowly disappearing. The familiar flutters began to make their way back.

“I couldn’t go anywhere with anyone, without thinking of you. That girl, she… she was so interested, I thought I was too. I don’t know but, when she asked me to be her boyfriend, it finally hit me. She looked like you, I was just trying… to distract myself but. Fuck, I love you, y/n. I can’t keep looking for you in every other girl. You’re all I want, doll.”

“You really love me?” you asked, trying to get closer.

“So much it’s consuming me, baby,” Bucky said, moving to sit with you on the bed.

Feeling your strength slowly return, you pulled him in for another kiss. Your lips danced over his, desperate for more. His hand moved to your back, bringing you closer to him. Your lips moved, pressing soft kisses along his jawline. Bucky suddenly pulled back. Your brows furrowed, confused.

“I almost killed you,” Bucky said, dropping his gaze.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“You were so convinced I didn’t love you, so sure that you got… I did this to you. I almost killed you,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, no, plum you didn’t. Sam even told me you felt the same, he told me to tell you. It’s okay, plum,” you said, reaching for his cheeks. “I’m okay, I’m okay. You love me, I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry, babydoll. I love you so much,” Bucky said, moving closer to you, his hands finding your waist.

“I love you too,” you said, resting your forehead to his. You both took a moment, resting silently in each other's arms. Finally, everything out in the open.

—

Laying in Bucky’s bed, your fingers danced over the engravings on his tags. The blue henley pulled tight across his chest as he rested beneath you. Familiar and warm.

Weeks passed, and the flowers were long gone. Bucky refused to leave your side, finally being able to hold you how he always wanted. A hand was always on your waist, hips, or around your shoulders. He never wanted to be away from you, holding you close as much as he could. If you ever coughed, even the slightest bit, he went into a panic. But you assured him, everything was okay. You were okay.

You nuzzled closer into his side, taking in the familiar smell of oak and leather that was just Bucky. The fluttering feeling he gave you was back, a welcomed comfort you hoped never left again.

“You really like those things, huh,” he said, smiling down at you. You looked up, pressing a soft kiss into his side.

“Mhm,” you said, leaning in further. “I love this shirt on you, too.”

“Really?” he asked, his fingers gently brushing at the nape of your neck. “You know, it’s my favorite shirt.”

“And why’s that?” you asked.

“Because it came from you.”

taglist:

@baby-banana @mattymurdocksbitch @themorningsunshine @skyfullofinfinities

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #fanfiction #fanfic #tfatws #marvel #winter soldier

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baileys-3 · 4 months

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CHAPTER 17 NOW ONLINE on AO3

Sneak Peak:

Lucy opens the door as soon as he knocks. She's wearing one of those skin-tight leggings that really leave nothing to the imagination. And is that his T-shirt? Yes, that's definitely his T-shirt. The one he lent her after the little water fight at his house. He has completely forgotten that she still has it.

He points his finger at her. "Is that my T-shirt?" Lucy looks down at herself, as if she must check what she's wearing first.

"Oh. Mhh. Yes." She sounds a little nervous, as if she's only now realizing that she never gave it back to him.

He grins at her. The fact that she's wearing his t-shirt is cute. He likes it. In fact, he likes it a lot.

"You know that's technically stealing, right?"

Lucy shrugs her shoulders and grins back at him, with a mischievous glint in her eye. She's ready for the fight.

"Technically, you gave it to me. You never said anything about giving it back."

Tim takes a step towards her. "That's a very strange interpretation of the law Officer Chen." He shuts the door using his foot, so he won't have to turn around.

"Is that so? Mhhh. Maybe we can find a way to settle?

Lucy closes the distance between them and reaches her hands into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him even closer to her. His hands automatically move to her hips.

"Mhh. Perhaps."

And then she is capturing his lips with hers. He thinks, if she is kissing him like this, she can have all his clothes, for all he cares. His hands move to her back and then down to her perfect ass. These leggings really don't leave much to the imagination. They are wafer-thin. He grips and squeezes her ass and to which Lucy moans. And then he simply lifts her up without breaking the kiss, her legs automatically wrapping around him. He carries her towards the kitchen island and feels her hands running under his shirt and stroking his skin. He carefully sets her down on the island and pushes her back, and judging by the noise, he has pushed something with her that has fallen over. But it doesn’t seem to bother either of them.

Then Lucy brushes her lips over his neck sucking on the skin there. Then she peppers lots of wonderful little pecks on his neck. At the same time, he feels her hands fiddling with the buttons of his Henley, and when she has finally undone the buttons, she flips the collar to the side and kisses him all over where his chest peeks out from under the soft fabric. He inhales deeply, catching the scent of lavender in her hair again. Lucy's fingers are now tracing lightly over his skin beneath his shirt. The feeling of her fingers combined with her kisses on his chest, is intoxicating. So much so that he feels the need to stop her from advancing further or he might not be able to stop.

"OK. You can keep the T-shirt." – he breathes into her hair as she continues to pepper his sternum with sweet and gentle pecks.

He feels Lucy grinning as she briefly interrupts her kisses. "Ah, you're so easy to convince. I thought I'd have to try harder."

#archive of our own #chenford #chenford fanfic #lucy chen #the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fic #tim x lucy #chenfordsource #lucy x tim #lucy and tim #ao3 link #ao3

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slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year

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The way they styled Corey is so good tbh. I love all the costume choices they made for him.

The first time we see him, his outfit is pretty sporty with his lil track jacket. It’s got several lighter/brighter colors. Orange, baby blue, and red stripes on his shoes. His hair is shorter and more groomed, and he’s completely clean shaven. This Corey is trying to look put together, but casual. It’s the last time we see him in a light colors that aren’t neutrals.

Corey’s first outfit after the accident is markedly different. He’s still wearing light colors, but it’s way more neutral. He wants to just blend in the best he can. It’s also a lot more utilitarian. Before, he was a community college student hoping to transfer to a university. Now he’s a blue collar worker. He’s wearing a henley, which originated as a working man’s undershirt. His hair is a little longer and unstyled. He’s scruffy.

The other outfit we see him in before he meets Michael is the red sweater. It’s not a very bright red, it kind of shifts from looking red to looking brown, depending on the light. I think this is super appropriate considering the additional shift his outfits undergo post-Michael. This sweater is transitional. Also he’s wearing it over a light grey t shirt, the last time we see him in a light color.

After he meets Michael he only wears brown, black, and navy blue. His style doesn’t change otherwise, which I like, he doesn’t have a ton of money, he doesn’t look like he went shopping to get a new badass murder wardrobe. He’s just a working class boy trying to stay warm in October in Illinois. But his palette has had all the color sucked out.

The first time he actually causes someone’s death with intention, he’s wearing this outfit. Black, brown, and navy blue. I think it’s so interesting, it’s NOT his mechanic’s coveralls but it IS a dark blue collared canvas shirt. So it LOOKS like his coveralls from the waist up. He’s so almost wearing Michael’s uniform but not quite. He also wears a navy blue sweater when he kills Dr Mathis. He’s always in Michael’s color when he kills intentionally.

Everything he wears makes sense with his character, even his new glasses. While round frames are trendier than square now (and were in 2019), his old glasses were more of a statement, with chunky frames. His new glasses have wire frames instead of plastic, more classic, less of a statement. He doesn’t want anything about him to stand out more than necessary. He’s always wearing layers which makes sense in fall in the midwest. After the accident we only see him in sturdy, plain, comfortable clothes. Blue collar shit. Dark colors.

Also, idk if this picture is from the movie premiere or Jamie’s Hollywood star ceremony but this look is such a serve imo lol. I feel like it puts such a perfect cap on his time as Corey. All black. Collared shirt. Leather jacket. Plus I just love that his tie and his shirt match so well you almost can’t see the tie. The only things that reflect light are the buttons on the jacket and his belt buckle. He really Did That. I would love to know if he styled himself like this or not.

#halloween ends #halloween ends spoilers #corey cunningham #movie styling #thoughts #fashion #cc

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corvidjuice · 1 year

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My gender is a tight three quarter raglan sleeve t-shirt with a Henley collar

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lostxtosunlight · 1 month

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All the sexy headcannons (from Xuxu)

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 & 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 | accepting

@phoenix-of-jade

what is their sexuality/sexual preference?

Yuki is homosexual. He prefers those who identify as male.

what is their romantic preference or inclination?

Same, he prefers men.

what are some features of others that attract them from the outset?

His pretty face, messy hair, and though he's skinny, if you're lucky enough to see it, he does have a toned body and a nice V line.

what are some features of others that arouse them, or they find arousing in a sexual situation?

Lips are something he's drawn to, if they look very kissable. Forearms and strong hands. And of course, everyone likes a nice 🍑

what are their most common turn-ons?

Confidence on pretty much anyone, being bossed around, a good heart (most of the time). Sometimes he likes the bad boys.

what are some more situational or contextual turn-ons?

Being protected is a big one. His partner looking disheveled, whether that be from sleep or a fight with someone.

what attire do they feel most attractive in?

Tight t-shirts & jeans, 3/4 sleeve shirts, well fitting shirts unbuttoned at the collar.

what attire do they find others most attractive in?

The same as above, plus suits and tuxedos, Henley shirts >>>>>>

what is their favourite sexual act?

Giving oral. He's very good at it, and enjoys it immensely.

do they indulge in masturbation or personal fantasies?

Sometimes yes, when he's not tired from work or exhausted in general. Personal fantasies more than masturbation. If he's obsessed with someone, fantasies will happen during the day.

how do they feel about foreplay?

Absolutely essential.

how do they feel about one-night stands?

Honestly that's pretty much the extent of his sexual experience.

are they openly flirtatious/sexual, or are they quite private?

Yuki isn't afraid to flirt, though he's not super comfortable with being openly sexual. Just innocent flirting, though? Absolutely.

how open are they, or how do they feel about sexual experimentation? elaborate if needed.

Sexual experimentation is hard for Yuki because, for the most part, all his sexual experiences have been with someone he doesn't know well. He doesn't feel safe or comfortable to really experiment (such as with bondage).

what is something they consider a kink of their own?

Yuki has a praise kink and he absolutely knows it.

have they engaged in sexual acts beyond themselves and a single partner (group sex, swinging, polyamory, etc.)?

He had a threeway one time, and though he did enjoy himself, it was rather intense.

how satisfactory has their sex life been thus far?

Average. Often times he doesn't get to orgasm before his partner is finished with him.

what is something they wish to try? why haven't they tried this yet?

A cock ring or vibrator in public. He hasn't tried it yet because he's worried he won't be able to be quiet enough.

are they dominant, submissive, switch, partner/context-dependent, or unsure?

It depends on his partner but he is a switch with a strong leaning toward submissive.

do they prefer to give or receive sexually?

He prefers to give. Receiving is nice too, of course, but he prefers to give his partner pleasure. Their moans and orgasms because of something he did are a huge turn-on.

+ established ship question. in any/all verses, with any/all ships, have your character/s speak about that ship's intimate & sexual dynamic, and how they feel about it.

N/A

#headcanon.#nsft #( read more because this got long )

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firstaidspray · 3 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY (+ MUSIC MONDAY)

tagged by @corvosattano to share some WIP and some music. Thank you!! This is a little bit of intimacy between Bianca and Driver, not nsfw but a bit suggestive, its body worship idk, and a song that the fic is named after but I feel especially fits this chapter.

Rather late, Driver returns home from work. Bianca knows not just from his footsteps ascending the stairs, but also from that delicious mechanic smell. Grease, fuel, fire, metal– it fuses into what’s almost like a cologne, intoxicating and arousing. She runs from the bedroom to greet him, and wraps her arms around him when she reaches him. Driver gives a little laugh and avoids touching his hands to her body, as even after copious amounts of pink goop, his hands are still dirty.

“...I’m still all greasy,” he says to her.

Bianca shoves her face in the crook of his neck and inhales. “Mmh, I don’t care. I love you like this.”

He sighs and smiles, giving her a light pat on the back. “I know you do.”

“Wanna go shower it off together?” She mumbles into his skin, still attached to him.

“Sure,” he replies.

The two separate, and before they depart to the bathroom, Bianca admires him in all his dirty, grimy glory. Just the sight of him in coveralls excites her. The fact that they’re dirty is only more exciting. She bites her lip and grabs him by the collar, pulling him into a kiss. Driver accepts it and walks both of them backwards, into her bedroom and then the bathroom, still kissing the whole way.

In the bathroom, Driver continues making out with Bianca as he kicks off his work boots and squirms out of his coveralls, letting them fall at his feet. Now, he’s in only one of those tight white henley t-shirts he’s always wearing, and a pair of jeans. Bianca begins undoing his belt and pants while he strips from his shirt. But Bianca pauses, pulling back from the kiss and taking her hands away from his waistband. Her eyes sparkle, combing over his bare torso.

Since they often had sex with Driver at least partially clothed, Bianca never had time to properly appreciate his body. And right now, it’s all she wants to do. Her hands rub gently down his chest, squishing ever so slightly into the muscle of his pecs, and he tenses under her. Their eyes meet, Bianca looking for a sign that he wants her to stop, but while his body remains rigid under her fingers, he gives her a look of approval, to continue.

Her hands trace over his chest, again and again, feeling his sparse, light chest hair under her palms. The heels of her hands press into the muscle, fingertips following suit, and instead of tensing, Driver becomes relaxed, letting out an exhale of relief. Bianca notes this, watching him close his eyes as she massages him, gently but enough to feel good.

Soon, her hands trail further down, reaching his abdomen, giving her more of a length to run her hands along. He’s toned, but not excessively muscular. In fact, before Bianca had begun forcing him to eat regular meals, he was on the skinny side. But now, after eating like a normal person, he’d gained some weight, both muscle and fat. Driver tenses just a bit when Bianca begins touching him there, but she reassures him by quietly hushing him and bending down, giving him chaste kisses over his body.

Both lips and hands soon reach the scar on his lower belly, a knife wound. It was from the time Bernie stabbed him. Bianca knew the history of this scar, and that sometimes Driver felt phantom pains in it, so she’s careful around it, ghosting only a single fingertip over the skin. But Driver shocks her by putting a hand to the back of her head and pushing her face closer to it. Knowing what to do, Bianca gives the scar a soft kiss, and Driver shudders, tightening his grip in her blonde locks.

“Even with…” Bianca begins, her hands running in circles over his lower abdomen, “No, with the added bonus of this scar…you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Driver growls, but it’s one of his aroused growls– he rarely, if ever, makes a traditional moan. Using his grip on her head, he pulls her head to the middle of his lower abdomen. Bianca begins kissing it more fervently, touching it faster and with more strength behind her massages. Her lips are tickled by his happy trail as she kisses it, and one hand keeps circling his scar with two fingertips.

“Driver,” she breathes, her warm breath on his skin forming goosebumps, “you are absolutely perfect, in every way.”

“Mmh,” he hums, smiling down at her.

“I mean it,” Bianca says, continuing to kiss him all over. “So perfect. Look at you. You’re everything, you know that?”

Driver bites his lip. Bianca notes this and smiles as she presses her own lips into his chest.

“Perfect chest…perfect abdomen…perfect scar…perfect happy trail…” Bianca whispers as she kisses each part she names. “Absolutely perfect.”

#my writing #my wips #wip wednesday #fic: the chauffeur #bianca andretti #driver

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trivialbob · 1 year

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Oliver (sitting between Sulley and Ella) had spa day this week. That boy has a very thick coat. No matter how much I brush him, I can’t keep up. The amount of hair I do get out of him nearly equals Sulley in weight. That probably explains why Sulley gets nervous when I throw a huge pile of hair in the trash can.

Once a year Oliver goes to experts with power tools and professional grade brushes. The groomer asked me if I wanted unscented or scented shampoo. Scented, for sure! Last time with that shampoo Oliver smelled fresh for two months. When I picked him up he smelled fantastic and looked like he’d lost 10 pounds. Quite literally the groomer might have removed 10 pounds of undercoat. I told him Oliver was very pretty which made him smile and bark.

Middle picture is at the dog park, close to sunset. Three Wes ties were wearing lighted collars. It was like a dog rave.

My Mpls St Paul magazine arrived today. I love restaurant lists. Of the 50 best for 2022, I’ve been to only10. Definitely I’ll be trying some of the others, at least the ones that are in the near metro area. Two highly regarded restaurants I have no desire to visit. They’re the sort of places I think of where people go just so they say they’ve been there. Places where half the men wear sport coats. Dressing up doesn’t make food taste better. A French dip and crinkle cut fries served in a red plastic basket brings me more joy than nine strands of roasted organic corn silk surrounded by elegantly drizzled drops of unpasteurized blue whale sweat presented in an ostrich egg shell.

Earlier today I went to the Mall of America. There were a fair number of children there. Has winter break started already? I browsed Old Navy for a bit. I haven’t been there in several years. Prices are decent, and that’s before factoring in the numerous sale signs offering 20% to 50% off. I didn’t need any new t-shirts, sweat shirts, or henleys, but next time I do though I’ll go back there.

#Of course I went to LL Bean #I seem to already own everything I want from that store #It's also getting pretty expensive and they no longer send out 20% coupons #But I still consider buying some of the made in Maine Bean boots because they are cool #I really don't need more boots though

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daringdarlingdt · 7 months

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just stared at the dr who gif that i made the banner for my blog months ago for a minute and realised for the first time that in the werewolf episode, david is wearing 3 shirts under his suit jacket and trench coat. that is 5 layers. he's got the blue collared shirt and then a henley and then a t shirt. that is possibly too many layers. but he looks very cute so i can't be angry

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queerbuckleys · 2 years

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tagged by: @capseycartwright @princessfbi @loveyourownsmiilee @fearlessdiaz @eddiediazisascorpio

in no particular order other than chronological~

Mr. Americana & the Heartbreak Prince rated: m chapters: 1/15 (4.6k) When mysterious and talk of the town First Son Eddie Diaz and his tabloid assigned rival Prince Evan Buckley are pictured in an altercation they must amend the incident by playing the part of friendship for social media. What Eddie finds is that the stuffy prince may not be so stuffy after all and helps him become more confident in his fatherhood and bring him his Shakespearean love story.

no one won the war rated: t word count: 1376 He’s standing in his bedroom, and the breaths are getting quicker. The frantic thoughts barreling over him, and he can’t control them. He can’t control them.

help me hold onto you (i’ve been the archer, i’ve been the prey) rated: t word count: 7500 Eddie placed his clean and freshly folded clothes in their drawers next to Buck’s. His fiance’s clothes going unworn for months, the fold lines growing sharper with each passing day.Eddie dreaded that’s where they would live forever. In the drawers, crisp lines and sharp edges. That they would never again be warm and grow worn. That they too would live perpetually suspended in uncertainty along with him. That he would wake up one day, an officer at his door, a sharply folded flag, and dog tags placed in his arms with nothing to grab onto. --- or Buck goes missing while deployed, and Eddie spirals. Pieces of their love story from this universe intertwined, with a happy ending.

on a wednesday rated: g chapters: 2/2 (3.1k) The gorgeous man sitting at one of the corner tables, nose buried in a book, a notebook, and various other pages spread across the table, like usual. The sleeves of his maroon henley are pushed up just below his elbows. And his hands, one holding a pencil resting the eraser against his lips the other holding the book open flat. Buck had noticed on day one there is not a ring in sight. His flop of brown hair looks perfectly a mess like he just rolled out of bed and there is a tired look in his gorgeous brown eyes. What was new was the exhaustion that seeps through this man’s entire being. That doesn’t make sense until Buck’s eyes drift away from his face to the kid who is with him, standing on the bench, one hand clutching the collar of the guy’s shirt, the kid was looking back at Buck with wide eyes so he waved, and a shy smile spread across their face before ducking back into the man’s arm, the guy turning his head to place a kiss in the kid’s hair not tearing his eyes away from the book in his hands.

the answer is blowing in the wind rated: g word count: 1359 A gentle gust of wind brushes past him and makes the tears on his face sting. Now, Eddie didn’t believe in the universe or whatever, not since then. Not since he asked for a sign and she was ripped away from his life. But that. That little gust of wind made his heart skip a beat. Or Eddie tells Shannon he is in love and some other stuff too.

tagging: @eddiessluttytanktop @bibuddie @halosdiaz and anyone else who wants to share

#five favorite fics #tag game #my fics

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sweetdevil-sims · 2 years

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hi,will there be a "JCP Teen set" conversion?

Hi! I’m not sure what you mean? If you’re talking about this set, it looks like everything in it is already available for teens. But I’ve already done some of the stuff in there, probably because I didn’t know about the full set:

Sun Dress with Necklace: denecklaced version for teen & adult here;

Bohemian Dress by me for teen-elder: here;

T-shirt over Tank: here;

Tank Dress by me: here;

Yoga pants seem to be identical to the basegame ones;

Henley Shirt with Johnny Collar by me: here;

Resort Pants by me: here;

Baseball Jacket by me: here;

Men’s Henley Shirt(*): adult.

(*) haven’t been able to find the teen version of this, I might convert it for teens and elders myself but I make no promises at this time.

#sweetdevilreplies #wcif

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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years

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1 2 30 + dair! (combined or separate, whatever you want!) -nads 💕💕💕

Dair + Honesty

Dair + Safe

Dair + Morning

The first thing Blair feels is her head exploding. Or melting. One or the other.

She squeezes her eyes shut in defense, flailing up an arm to check, her hand unsteadily patting the top of her head. Yep, still there. Christ, her hair is so tangled, she’s got to be a fright to look at.

After a few minutes, her brain is able to get past the splitting headache to take stock of her surroundings. Cold nips at every point of exposed skin, but it’s not uncomfortable, and it feels nice on her forehead. Despite the fact that she only crawled into bed in a pilfered t-shirt last night, she isn’t that cold at all.

Dan is tangled with her in the mess of bedcovers, her own heat source, his arm is slung heavy over her waist, his face mashed to her shoulder, his ankles hooked with hers. He’s very clingy in his sleep. It’s kind of charming, even with the hangover.

She cards a hand through his hair, at least as much a mess as hers, if not more—there’s some solace in that—and she feels his rumbling hum in response, his hand smoothing down from the dip in her waist to her thigh and back up again.

The touch triggers a memory, several memories, all from last night, all echoing in her body. So they’d thrown away the first pancake, but then there had been the second, and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth…

Definitely worth the hangover. Or it will be once she has some coffee. And aspirin.

“Dan…” she whispers.

He groans. “Shhhhhh,” he exhales into her shoulder, “that’s way too loud.”

She bites down on her lip, not wanting to laugh. Laughing right now would hurt too much.

“We need coffee,” she tries again, speaking as quietly as humanly possible.

“And painkillers. Strong ones.”

Blair hums an agreement, still stroking his hair, and Dan drops a lazy kiss onto her shoulder, right where the collar of his henley meets her skin, but they otherwise make no attempt to move.

And then, there’s a horrible, terrible, no-good-very-bad cacophonous pounding on the door.

“Dan?” a voice booms, echoing through the brick walls and concrete floor and rattling around painfully in Blair’s head.

“Oh, for the love of god,” Dan mutters.

“Dan, are you up yet?” Rufus calls through the door. “We have breakfast!”

Dan groans, too soft for his dad to hear, but enough to express his discomfort.

“Maybe,” he mumbles, “maybe we just stay here for now.”

“Good idea,” Blair agrees, turning onto her side to better curl into him. Dan obliges by pulling her closer, his lips finding her forehead, easing the raging headache.

Yes, definitely worth it.

One word prompts

#a little 5x18 morning after for ya 💕#thank you nads!#*prompts #dair #I've had sooooo much fun with these #*smashes tankard* another!

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punktrsh · 2 years

Text

bold: most frequent, definitely italics: conditional or private cross out: hell. no.

[ FASHION COLORS ] red. crimson. vermilion. tomato. burgundy. brown. tan. beige. ochre. sienna. orange. peach. tangerine. marigold. amber. yellow. citrine. mustard. butter. daffodil. green. lime. mint. emerald. olive. blue. royal blue. teal. navy. sky. purple. lilac. mauve. plum. amethyst. pink. coral. magenta. rose. blush. black. jet. ebony. licorice. bistre. white. ivory. snow. vanilla. champagne. grey. dove grey. charcoal grey. slate. ash. pastels. jewel tones.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. fog. wood.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canines. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. fur. feathers. scales. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. cheekbones. feline. pointed ears. chubby. curvy. short. tall. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. weak. struggling. athletic. lithe. curls. long hair.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. words. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. pistols. machine guns. slingshots. katana. maces. staff. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. peace. rifles. cannons. mind.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. copper. bronze. iron. rust. steel. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. quartz. metals. glass. shell. bone. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. satin. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. ichor. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. vinyl. carbon nanotubes. circuits. vibranium. adamantium.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. stream. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. woods. hills. highlands. islands.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. tigers. wolves. panthers. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. vultures. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. songbirds. monkeys. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. deer. dogs. rabbits. mantises. crows. ravens. parrots. chickens/roosters. mice. jackals. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. foxes. phoenixes. peacocks. coyote. bears.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. water. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. soda. spices. herbs. apple. citrus. raspberry. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. gingerbread. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. stew. venison. rice. ambrosia. bread.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. technology. swimming. theater. libraries. magazines. piano. violin. cello. guitar. lute. mandolin. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. eating. climbing. running. hiking. stargazing.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. barefoot. heels. leggings. trousers. khakis. jeans. skirt. shorts. earrings. necklace. collar. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. bracers. belt. layers. bandana. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. bracers. sweaters. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visors. eye contacts. makeup. implant. artificial parts. robes. t-shirts. henleys. athletic shirt. joggers. tennis shoes. cargo pants.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. fatigue. energetic. manipulation. faith. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. family. friends. chronic pain. assistants. somnambulism. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. devotion. smoking. drugs. drinking. kindness. love. hugs. time. questions.

tagged by: @chromatiica tagging: honestly, steal it from me and tag me!!

#⌞ 💀 ⌝ MAIN VERSE ⟶ AESTHETIC ⌜ pints of whiskey cigarettes and outer space. ⌟

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