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#sunny makes moodboard
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Jem Carstairs
I sometimes think there is nothing more painful than love denied. To love someone you cannot have, to stand beside your heart's desire and be unable to take them in your arms. A love that cannot be requited. I can think of nothing more painful than that.
x x
Happy Birthday Kepper!! @weirdoismymiddlename
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luvmomoiz · 5 months
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>agere sick day moodboard/outfit with a bluey theme!! (gender neutral, age 2-6) made this for comfort cause im sick right now :( but also guys i have the bluey sweatshirt and it is my favoritest ever please get it if you are a little that likes bluey…..it’s from target and it’s grown up sized!! i was so excited to find it!!
>divider from here!!
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its-tortle · 11 months
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💛 wakanda husbands feat. alpine the cat 💛
a 1k celebration moodboard for @andrea1717
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userchappell · 8 months
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"you want me to put a ribbon on you and tell you you're a hero. you're not."
maeve rojas as red hood (titans version) au moodboard
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love-cult-enthusiast · 7 months
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Moodboards based off @lulu-draws-stuff primary colors trio! :D
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nateriverswife · 7 months
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A | ALTERNATIVE
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supahstarrr · 11 months
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these are some of my old moodboards 😭 they don't look the best, but my favs is deffo Alec's ACT 2 moodboard and Chan(ice)'s ACT 1 moodboard. when i made Alec's ACT 2 board, that was when i was getting more used to making moodboards-- so objectively i think that's the best board out of all the ones i've made
for context, these moodboards was for a wattpad fic i was creating, which was about an edgy albino teen (alec) moving to derry and eventually finding mike and chanice and befriending them. eventually, alec and mike would catch feelings for eachother. the ocs were strictly for my fanfiction so i haven't really done much with them
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navybrat817 · 8 months
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Sundresses and Leather
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.
Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.
"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.
"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"
"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.
"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.
You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.
But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.
Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”
“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”
“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”
It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.
“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”
“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”
I will.
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After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.
Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.
“Holy shit.”
You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.
Flowers.
“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”
You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”
His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."
"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."
"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"
He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”
Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”
“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”
“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.
“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”
“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.
“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.
“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”
An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.
This date is off to a great start.
“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”
But I know he has a big dick. I know.
He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”
He’s going to kill my ovaries.
“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”
“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.
He’s trying to impress me.
“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.
“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”
“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.
Did he clean it for me?
You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”
“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”
“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”
“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.
“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”
“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”
I just want to spend time with you.
A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.
You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.
“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.
“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”
You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?
“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”
James?
The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”
Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”
You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.
“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”
Oh, no.
There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”
“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"
Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.
You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."
"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.
"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."
“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”
Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”
“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”
Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.
"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.
"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."
A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."
As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”
Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.
“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”
“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”
“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.
No way.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."
He's full of surprises.
"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.
The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.
"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"
Antonia looks so happy.
"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"
Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."
You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"
"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."
Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.
Perfect.
"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"
You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.
"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.
"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."
Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.
Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.
"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."
"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"
He caught that?
"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."
"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.
You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.
"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."
"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."
"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."
"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"
"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."
You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.
I could listen to him talk for hours.
"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.
"I haven't?" You asked.
"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."
You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.
"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.
"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.
"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."
If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.
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After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.
"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.
The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."
"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.
Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."
"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.
Fuck me.
"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."
Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.
You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.
"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.
"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."
"In the kitchen?"
"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."
Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"
"Jesus," he whispered.
It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."
"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."
"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."
I'm not good enough.
Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."
His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."
"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."
"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."
It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.
A partnership.
He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"
Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.
"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."
"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.
"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."
I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.
"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."
"It was," he smiled.
"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.
"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.
You didn't.
Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.
I want more.
"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.
"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?
"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"
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So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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undercoverpena · 3 months
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i. a pretend, an act
javier peña x ofc!reader* | chapter one of hope they caught us
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summary: peña is back in Texas and wants a simple life. but, when Steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. what he doesn't expect is that he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—posing as a married couple.
warnings: *reader has a nickname (sunny) for use undercover, no use of y/n, reader has a dad. no physical descriptors used / images in moodboard not representative. fake dating/marriage, undercover/recon work, banter. one bed. wordcount: 4.6k an: thank you to @psychedelic-ink and @wildemaven for the continuous support given. you have both been the biggest supporters of this, shouting at me to write this since September, and here it is. a massive thanks to @thetriumphantpanda without you, this would have been pushed back, thank you for letting me ramble incoherently about my doubts and fears.
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All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.
It’s all so simple, easy.
A thing he is a master in. Something he has never found too hard, having always been pretty good at concealing, at masking.
After all, he’s spent a lot of time flip-flopping around, faced with far too many emotions to not become skilled at faking nonchalance and appearing put together.
Colombia had been his school.
The place where he collected his degree—days of pretending he was okay. Hiding the fact he couldn’t sleep the horrors away, that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. That stress wasn’t making him chain smoke; that the pressure wasn’t making him sink his cock into women he couldn’t save.
He picked up his doctorate when he returned home. When ranch life had felt so fucking dull it made him want to pick the smoking habit back up, just for something to do. When he saw boats that made his insides twist, but found he had to wear a smile. That he had to hide the way he bristled each time someone called him a hero—when all he wanted was a drink, a fuck or a newspaper.
Mostly, Javi had become a master in squirrelling away the fact he saw every minute of the hours at night, feeling nothing short of relief when his alarm chimed so he could get out of his homemade prison.
Bluffing had always been a skill of his, but this time, right now, thousands of miles from the ranch and even further afield than Colombia, it also required wearing something shiny on his left hand and—
“Try not to fuck her, Jav.”
He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—or that he’s happy and content.
From the moment the two of them reunite, he takes in the glow on his old partner’s skin. Javi strongly suspects it isn’t just from the sun, but rather from knowing his wife can sleep, from getting the chance to watch his daughter grow older, for her to laugh freely.
Javi couldn’t relate.
Not that he’ll admit it. Yet another thing he disguises, smothers his face in what he assumes is what happiness looks like. He wears it like it’s an accessory, something akin to wearing a jacket, rather than actually feeling it.
Picking up a ring, he rotates it between his thumb and finger as he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”
He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side which sparks a grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot. Because none of them look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.
“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”
“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”
He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.
Tricked in fact. Requested down here for an opinion, but when his worn-in soles landed in the office of his former colleague, it unravelled into something so much more.
Handed a file—one he knows everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javi knows better. Had known it too. Even suspects, Murphy does too.
One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.
You don't just want me here for a consult, do you, Murph? Was hopin’ you were bored in Texas.
He suspects that’s why his Pop had given him an arched brow, an expression that was accompanied by pinched lips when he’d first mentioned it. Even his assurance that it’ll be a few days—just helping Steve out was met with a look Javi hadn’t banked on. Realising as he stood admiring wedding rings that his Pop had figured it out long before him.
At least now he understands why he got the Chucho-treatment—not quite quiet, but not quite the same treatment from him that he did the day before.
Instead, that kind of treatment that pierced itself into him, attempted to bury itself inside of him and made guilt flood through him like a poison.
Even if once before he would struggle with it, found himself desperate to apologise—make it up to his Pops—he didn’t this time. Because, Javi already struggled,a had grown tired of itching for something.
So, he said nothing. Because he knows Murphy wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.
Needing too.
“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation, suppressing a yawn.
Before he’d even got on the plane out here, he’d been tired. Already beginning to fray at the edges, sleep having become an even more distant friend.
It hadn't mattered that he’d convinced himself it was just a chat, that he'd be okay, his body said otherwise. Remembering. It all comes back to him. The aches, the knot in his stomach. The apparent crumbling of the hole he’d covered inside of him, the one carved in Colombia—a place where a piece of his soul he suspects is meant to be, but was long lost when hunting Escobar.
All of it had been made worse by the worried look on Pop’s face when he dropped him at departures. It thickened, slathered itself on his shoulders even more so when he calls him from Murphy’s office to tell him it’ll be three months.
“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.” ”Pop…” ”Come back the right way, mijo.”
Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain it all over again. From the top. All softly, with patience—the phone receiver leaving an indent on his phone as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Reminding his Pop that this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few months, at most.
It didn’t shift the tone—didn’t stop Javi from imagining the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness over the phone, simmering in the miles of air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy situation.
Sighing, Murphy drops his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts. Watching him, the man he used to share a desk with, gesture, somewhat wildly—likely about to tell him he wasn’t sure.
“She’ll be here, alright.”
Javi snorts, swallowing. Glancing back over another table, seeing other things, other accessories. Things that’ll help him blend, help the two of you blend. You and him, him and you—a person he knows the name of and nothing else.
Steve had shared that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust. That you knew the work so far better than anyone.
He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, blouse and black tailored trousers walking towards him.
It isn’t anything cliché.
Time doesn’t stop, the room doesn't silence, but something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters. Because instantly, Javi realises you’re pretty. A thought which confuses him, especially when it dawns on him that usually, it’s a woman's figure he notices and admires first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he lingers on.
And fuck do they cut into him. Practically reach towards him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.
Then, all at once, ceasefire. A chance to strengthen his façade as you turn to greet Murphy, a handshake, a sea of pleasantries. Enough chance to shove it down, whatever attempted to rise in him.
But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—
“You must be my husband,” you say commandingly.
Your body suddenly turns to him, hand sticking out towards him, adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air and his body goes clammy, grows warm and makes him suddenly desperate for water, coffee or even whiskey.
Slipping his hand into yours, he’s not surprised to find that it’s soft, the right kind of warm. He’d suspected about as much from just appearances alone.
“Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you, Mr Peña.”
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Javi learns, rather quickly, that you have a nice voice.
It doesn’t grate, doesn’t annoy him—it’s informative, but there’s something else there, a playful edge, a little thing within you that hasn’t been crushed.
He remembers when he’d been as sprightly.
Rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm as he does, fingers desperate to clutch a pen, his jaw tightening—roll it in his fingers, hold it like he used to hold a smoke. A need to play pretend with it, just as he’s about to with you.
A thing which is slowly making him more tense.
Not that you seem to notice, too focused on getting him up to speed on the actual investigation. He’d read much of your notes before today, it was the next part he was more on edge by.
Because, whatever his earlier opinion of you was, he was getting the distinct impression you’d rather set your skin on fire than be fake married. A thing you stop trying to hide, your face displaying your disgust at it each time it is casually mentioned.
It was mandatory—Murphy’s words—for the two of you to get to know one another. A crash course, a 101 in the other. It’s told to you, that the two of you are going to be stationed in your new home for the next two months, starting from today. But, because they’re merciful, there’d be no requirement to begin working today.
“Wanted to make sure you had time to get to know one another. So, take the day—work can begin another day.”
“How nice of you, Murph,” he responds, words dipped in sarcasm. Briefly catching sight of you smirking as you study something on the table.
Javi had already imagined that—since it was recon, and more surveillance than anything else—for the most part, everything could remain the same. He learnt he was right moments later when it was confirmed his name would remain very much his own, and you were handed his surname like a gift you’d rather burn than accept.
It was you who had to surrender more.
“Y’need a new first name.”
If you were surprised, you don’t show it. A sea of reasons given, the main one being if anyone asked around with a photo and your name, it would be easier to put two and two together. You lived here, for one.
You keep your eyes down, glancing over the table of possessions you’re allowed to borrow, to play dress up with. Fingers brushing over a watch (silver, a white face)—something haunting in your eye you’re quick to blink away when you meet Murphy’s stare.
Folding his arms, Steve sighs. “Jus’ something you’ll answer to. That can be used in public.”
Javi watches you smirk, something secretive, a hidden joke simmering between the two of you—leaving him very much out in the cold of it.
After a beat, you lick your lips.
“Sunny,” you reply, lifting your eyes, digging each syllable of the name you’re going to use into him.
“Let me guess you’re someone’s ray of sunshine?”
He doesn’t mean for it to fall out laced in bitterness, but it does all the same. His mouth tilted into a smirk, your eyes hardening as you placed down a pair of earrings you’d picked up.
“Think it’s more because of my sunny disposition.” He snorts, watching you move around the table. “It’s a family nickname—I’ve… I’ve always been called it, so, I’ll answer to it.”
Swallowing, Javi lets his eyes wander to the wall of the room.
“Alright you two. You need to sell it, y’hear me?”
Javi didn’t realise until he saw Murphy with his hands on his hips how big boss he looked, and how much it rather annoyed him. How it would be quite easy to give him a shove. More so when he’s handed a new phone, a set of documents, and given more instructions he wishes he could shove down his throat.
He almost gets close enough to do both when briefing ends and he’s handed the keys to the hotel suite they’d be living in—their story simple, easy:
“We have a fake house for you both being made ready as a cover story, but for now you’re both in the hotel. Prime location. Beach views, and very much in reach to the top places the targets visit.”
Murphy hadn’t been lying.
It did have good views, the suite was even nice—really nice.
Almost too nice for a little surveillance, a little fake marriage and a drug bust. But, he didn’t complain, barely said a thing in the ride over, or when you wheeled your own case. He even remained silent when you refused to look at him in the elevator or on the walk to the room, and even when the two of you entered.
In fact, the first words he said were:
“You gotta try and look at me like you don’t wanna peel my skin off. You know, if you want this to work.”
He expects it, braces for it—the tongue lashing, an icy stare. Picturing you as the kind of woman who is already to sharpen your tools and pierce him with them when he blinks. But, you don’t.
If anything, Javi watches in slow motion as your shoulders sink, your cogs turning before your expression softens.
“You’re right—I’m… sorry.”
Biting the inside of his cheek, he nods. “There’s one bed.”
“Well. We can sleep in the same bed, Peña. We’re adults. However, for your sake, I’m going to put a pillow between us.” Your eyes sweep over him, cold, drowning him in a chill. “Two actually.”
“You a cuddler, or something?”
Smiling, you sigh. “No. The pillow is so that if you roll over all sleepy and desperate for some affection, I won’t have to cut you. Because if you touch me, that is what will happen.”
“How are we meant to sell we’re in love if I can’t touch you?”
“Oh, out there, you can touch me. In here, no.”
His snort rumbles from his chest. Tugged up, wrenched from some cobweb-filled depth, as you smile. Nothing big, nothing life-changing, but a start—the beginning of a level-playing field.
A part of him suspects you’re used to charm. You’re able to disable it, switch it, unfazed by his gaze or the edge of his words. If anything, you seem really fucking bored of it—something he’s not sure if he admires or despises.
He then learns, quickly, that you take things seriously. Your bag opens, pulling out a notebook—upside down cursive etched over a page, your eyes scanning over it, before you ask if he’s ready. He’s barely able to ask for what, when you begin firing things at him.
Favourite food. Comfort film. Where did we meet? What song do you sing in the car when I’m not around? Are you allergic to anything?
The list goes on, and on. The more things continue to run out of your mouth, the more he begins to admire you—to settle into some comfort that you want to do this properly. That you’re going to take it seriously too, something he wants.
Needing it to matter.
Needing to have something work out easily, not have it all end for nothing.
The only time you pause is for a dinner—room service, his treat and his choice. A way of providing proof that he’d been listening, paying attention—somehow wanting to prove something to you, even if he’d known you for only half a day.
“So, how did Murphy get you on this?”
He studies the way you cross your leg over the other, the base of your heel tapping against the carpet—all very much guarded, on edge.
“You can tell it’s my first, can’t you?”
Javi smiles, making it softer purposefully. “A little.”
“He said you were good,” you sigh, placing your napkin down. “I think I was chosen because it was easy. Y’know, than someone with… higher priorities. Plus, I already know the case. Guess it just made sense to send me.”
Nodding, he watches as you avoid his sight, focusing instead on the swirls in the carpet. Something ticking in your pretty little head, it forcing your nostrils to flare, for your jaw to tighten—and he’s watching it happen, practically feeling the air around you begin to vibrate from it all.
“M’not gonna let anything happen to you, Sunny. You know that right?”
That does it. Further digs in the hatred you’re feeling tenfold because the use of your new name makes you flinch. And he knows, like he had suspected earlier that it means more than just a name. Especially from the look on your face.
At first, your expression is soft, almost mask-less—no walls, no defence. Then, like magic, it shifts. It drapes down, rebuilds, and suddenly there within seconds, the same expression he’s been working with since introduction.
“Well, I have heard you take care of the women in your care extremely well.”
Picking up your drink, and stirring the straw, you let your eyes meet his. The small wooden table suddenly even smaller—the large suite, suddenly constricting in a way he hadn’t expected so far.
“S’not what I meant.”
“I know.” It’s curt, your reply. Clearing your throat, you snort, “You are handsome. I can see why you did so well. And, I might not need to say this, but I need you to know I like my job, and I don’t require that kind of care.”
Rubbing his jaw, he sighs. “That so?”
“I have something that can help with that. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t need to remind it that it’s ‘so big’, and it doesn’t need me to call it baby. It just hums—politely—and makes my thighs shake.”
He snorts, draining the rest of his glass. The ice clangs just before he places it back down on the table.
“You bring it with you?”
Licking your lips, your mouth slides into your cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
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Steve had told you his credentials—how he worked, how smart he was. How easily he was able to decipher a read on someone.
He did also mention much of Peña’s backstory—including his rich history with the opposite sex.
A thing you hadn’t been planning on throwing in his face, but rather keeping it stored in the back of your head for informational purposes only.
Yet, it slipped out all the same—coated in catty and wrapped in bitchy.
It’s not an excuse, but you know it’s because you’re on edge, feeling prickly, practically inside out.
In all of the briefings you’d had before agreeing to this, your boss had failed to mention that it wasn’t just the man’s tongue that got women to confess all their secrets, but his ridiculously handsome face too.
But, it wasn’t just that. That, in part, you thought you could handle. But rather, the weight of letting him down. This man you don’t know, but you’re about to know a hell of a lot about.
None of it helped by the fact it appears he also wants to do a good job. And then, there’s the fact he’s quick-witted, observant, and it most definitely doesn’t help that he’s all broad shoulders and brown eyes that make you—
Then, he’d flirted.
On any other day, in any other place, you’re sure you’d have melted. Likely leaned forward, elbow on your knee, tracing your bottom lip with your finger just to make his eyes drop to your mouth.
But, this isn’t any other day—it’s work, a job, one that requires him (in part) to be a flirt.
Clearing your throat, you smear on a smile. “You not tried to date since you’ve been home?”
His face hardens, just slightly.
It pinching, eyes more so than anywhere else—his smile falling, descending to a thin line as he traces his teeth with his tongue. Then, his eyes shift into an entirely different brown, an explosion of shades swirling—flecks of gold and sadness-infused umber.
“No.”
Nodding, you pick at some salad on the side of your plate. “Probably a good job—don’t need any angry people coming for me when I’m curled up on your arm.”
He snorts, but it doesn’t flutter over his face. His hand remains balled up, resting on the arm of the chair—something more there, prodding, needling him. He may be so easily able to read you, but you’re sure he’s about as clear as a warm day himself.
Landing his gaze back on you, you feel it linger, hover—before it begins to slip down from your eyes, landing somewhere at your neck, before the buttons off your shirt. Something warming inside of you, flooding out, spreading across your skin as you try your damnest to level your breathing.
“Got any more questions?”
“Plenty,” you reply, almost catching the y on your teeth before placing a light smirk out over your lips, letting it move across your face.
Gesturing, Javi licks his lips and so you begin with more. Not needing the book now, just working your way through the things which populate, which appear like bubbles he bursts with his answers.
He’s open about some things more than others. The two of you covering family quickly, childhoods even quicker. You both discreetly avoid too many details of Colombia, about the things you’d already heard in chunks from your superior.
Your 101 beginner class in your new husband proving to be easier to understand than your field handbook—although, you supposed the intermediate and expert levels to him would be far harder to crack.
He’s unmarried, not dating—there’s his dad, a sea of distant family and a town full of people whom his father would class as family. You suspect some guilt there, it layered between the conversation on his dad, and the one which followed when you’d asked if the ranch would be okay without him.
“—My Pops has had help for a long time. One of them has been promoted. He… He works there full time now.”
Even if he had tried to say it simply, it was laced in bitterness—not from jealousy, you suspect from the sadness that had poisoned over time. A well stuffed with things which had rotted and gone mouldy over time.
Upon sight of him this morning, you had known you’d need to be clever, smart—find ways to compartmentalise it all. Because, when he traces his nose with his finger, when his eyes widen a little more than normal—coffee-brown all but drowning you—you had known it would be hard otherwise.
Something there, niggling, piercing through.
“Any lovers I need to be aware of?”
Smiling, you slide your feet from your heels, pulling your legs up more, swallowing. “No, you’re good.”
“Any potential risks I need to be aware of—anyone who’ll call into question your new name?”
Your stomach knots, uncomfortably so. A thing balling inside of you, that same fear you’d been plucking at for days—ever since Steve had suggested your name, thrown it out on the conference table with a bunch of greedy eyes seated around it.
“No, I… I’m new here too. Only was transferred six months ago.”
He looks at you, lets it hover, hold. Something there, trying to disguise itself in the way he narrows his eyes a fraction, in the way his lips pinch together—the way his brain seems to whir like a fan that can be heard even across the table.
When you yawn, he makes a move to tidy up the plates for the tray—batting your hand away. “I’ve got it, hermosa.”
“Hermosa?”
Your cheeks are warm, more so under his stare. It’s all wide, blooming—it tracing your eyes before it sweeps back to the tray.
“Gotta call my wife something original, special.”
“I’m hardly special, Peña.”
“If I’ve married you, you’re special.”
Clamping your mouth shut, you say nothing.
Something churning, a horribleness that you know stems from the fact this isn’t real. None of it. The niceness, the ring on your finger—the one your finger slides up your palm to brush over, to trace.
The one which didn’t have a home there this morning, but now sits like it’s always supposed to. Your stare on his back as he goes to the door, pushing the metal tray, the jingling of plates and glass sounding out as your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
It continues to hammer when your back flattened against the bathroom door—safe amongst marble, mirrors and an array of complimentary products which covered most of the sink.
Only as you begin to undress and change for bed, does it lessen. Does your composure come back to you. The mask which you so delicately applied, the one which had taken more words of encouragement in your bathroom mirror this morning than you’d thought.
Because, it isn’t that you thought you couldn’t do this—but rather why would you?
This isn’t your expertise. Not your usual field of knowledge. The last time you’d even been on a date had been at least over a year ago, and the last time you’d lived with a man had been so long ago you were worried you’d wake tomorrow and learn you have habits you weren’t aware of.
Did you kick in your sleep?
Did you grind your teeth?
“Cariño?” Javi calls out, knuckles tapping on the door. “You good in there?”
No, you want to reply. Hands gripping the sink basin, staring at your makeup-less face and the nightie he was about to see you in.
“Yeah,” you call out, washing your hands, and flushing the toilet before unlocking the door, and emerging.
He’s polite enough to not drink you in, even if you're sure he’s craning his neck not to do so.
“Look, before you combust from not doing so.”
Smirking, he traces his fingers across his chin, before slowly dropping his eyes.
And you feel them.
Warm. Hot. Sliding over your neck, collarbone, down the silk which covers your chest, abdomen and most of your thighs, before he’s running his vision back up.
“Better?”
“Nice legs.”
Narrowing your eyes, you barge into him a little as you pass him. “Try not to dream about them, and Peña?”
He hums.
“Try to remember you’re not actually married, don’t want you falling for the fantasy we’re putting on. Hate to break your heart.”
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CHAPTER TWO ->
727 notes · View notes
jake-kiszkas-smirk · 10 months
Text
Little Fantasy
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Josh Kiszka X Fem Reader
18+ only, minors DNI
Warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, fingering (fem rec), choking, dirty talk, exhibitionism kink, I think that’s it!
This fic is heavily unedited, sorry!
Moodboard by @allieisacrybaby 🖤
You slowly opened your eyes as the sound of soft music pulled you from your slumber. Josh often put on music in the morning when he was home. Turning to his side of the bed you weren't surprised to see it empty. He was probably outside on the balcony meditating or sipping a warm glass of tea. Glancing over to the alarm clock you shoved the book you were currently reading out of the way and saw that it was 8:30. After enjoying the comfort of your bed for a few more minutes you finally mustered the motivation to make your way to the bathroom for a shower.
Turning on the water to heat up you stripped out of your clothes, breathing in the steam that was now quickly filling the room. Almost as soon as you had stepped foot into the shower you heard the bathroom door creak open,
"My love," Josh called out, you could see his blurred form on the other side of the glass door, "Did you have any plans for today?"
You watched him as he talked, he was looking in the mirror, messing with his wild curls, you smiled before you replied,
"I don't, did you have something in mind?" you leaned your head back under the water, letting it warm your body
"I was hoping we could go into the city today, go for brunch, maybe do some window shopping?" he requested.
"Yeah, that sounds perfect actually" He had been gone for the last week or so, spending the day with him sounded amazing.
"Great, I have to go make a quick phone call but I should be done by the time you're ready" He replied and then made his way out of the bathroom.
After showering you wrapped yourself in a towel and brushed your teeth. Opting to let your hair air dry for a few minutes you decided to go see what the weather was like so you could decide what to wear.
You stepped out on the balcony but froze when you realized Josh had taken his phone call out there. You started to shrink back into the house, not wanting to disturb him. He shook his head softly and waved you over with his free hand as he spoke into the phone. You walked over to the chair he was sitting in and when you got close enough his hand landed on the outside of your thigh, thumb moving in slow loving circles,
"Did you need something?" He asked genuinely, holding the phone away from his face as his eyes locked on yours,
"No, sorry, I was just checking the weather so I could choose an outfit" you whispered back,
"Don't apologize," His hand went from your thigh to your hand, bringing it to his lips as he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, "Lets see the options" He whispered quickly before replying to whoever was on the phone.
It was a beautiful day outside, warm but with a nice breeze, the perfect combination of sunny and cloudy. You knew in the back of your mind that the weather could change on a dime, but you decided to risk it. Making your way to the closet you located two of your favorite sundresses, which also happened to be 2 of Josh's favorites too. Grabbing both of the hangers you walked back out to the balcony and held both up for Josh to see. Still chatting away on the phone he eyed both of them, tilting his head and biting the inside of his lip as he considered. After a few moments he pointed to the one in your left hand. Nodding with a smile you walked over and kissed his cheek to say thank you.
Hurrying back inside you quickly got ready. You half dried your hair and then put it in a loose braid, pulling out a few pieces to frame your face. Not wanting to spend a lot of time on makeup you decided to go simple, some mascara and lip tint was all you applied. Content with your look you moved to grab the dress Josh had picked. It was a white and yellow dress that had small floral print on it. It had spaghetti straps, a V-neck, and the hem of the skirt landed about mid-thigh. Slipping out of your towel you grabbed a pair of underwear and began putting them on when a knock against the window got your attention.
Huffing a laugh you shook your head when you realized Josh was watching. He wiggled his eyebrows at you as you sauntered over and closed the shades, taking a chance to stick your tongue out at him before you did so. You walked back over to where your dress lay on the bed and put it on. After finding your favorite strappy sandals and putting them on you stood back in front of your dresser and started to put on the little gold hoop earrings you wanted to wear.
"Well that was rude" You heard Josh tease as he walked in the door, tossing his phone to the bed,
"You're lucky I didn't lock the door, creeper" you grinned as he feigned offense, bringing a hand to his chest.
"I was just enjoying the show" He walked up behind you, putting his hands on your hips and watching as you secured the second earring. "You look beautiful" He said as you stood up and turned to face him,
"You always say that" You rolled your eyes as your cheeks turned pink. You had been dating Josh for almost a year, and still his compliments never got old.
"I always mean it" He replied. You knew he meant it, in fact he was the first person you'd ever been with that made you believe he meant what he said. A soft smile appeared on his face as he leaned in to kiss you. He had a habit of sighing through his nose when he kissed you in the morning, like he was glad you were real and not a dream. It never ceased to make your heart melt. The kiss had started innocent, but as your hands moved to his waist and your fingers skimmed the warm skin under his shirt the kiss deepened. Josh's hands that were still planted on your hips had pinned you against the dresser,
"Josh," You pulled away, smiling when he tried to reconnect your lips. You turned your head, giggling when he settled with kissing your neck instead
"Hm?" He hummed,
"We have to leave" You reminded him, "I don't want to miss the brunch menu" His kisses didn't cease. "Josh" You said more firmly this time,
"Fine" He pouted, "It's your fault for wearing that dress"
"Oh it's my fault?" You grabbed your bag and started to walk towards the door, "You're the one who picked the dress"
"That I did," He conceded as he grabbed his keys, "You don't wear it enough"
"Thats because for some reason I never make it out the door once I put it on!" you said playfully as you poked at his side,
"Touche" He laughed, taking your hand as you both walked out to the car.
After enjoying your coveted crepes and sangria at your favorite brunch spot you found yourself walking down the sidewalk with Josh. Hand in hand you chatted as you went into different shops. You were stealthily leading him to one of your favorite stores. You got about a half block away when he suddenly stopped,
"I should have known" He laughed as he started walking again, shooting you a side eye as you tugged him along
"Come on please," you whined "Ten minutes tops"
"Ten minutes my ass" He teased back as he followed you into the massive bookstore. "We'll be in here for hours"
"You're being dramatic, you like books just as much as I do"
"Alright fine, it looks like it's about to rain anyways, might as well be inside"
You were right, he did like books just as much as you did. The difference was Josh always went searching for specific books, you liked to just stumble upon them. This meant you liked to just browse. You just loved bookstores in general, always had. You found them mystical and almost romantic for some reason.
This particular bookstore was 2 stories, and it had lots of isles packed with books. It was an old building with exposed brick, the soft warm lighting made it feel cozy. Just like many other bookstores there was music playing and chairs scattered about for readers to sit and enjoy a book. The second story had these big windows and you could see that it had suddenly grown dark outside and was now raining. You kept Josh close, every time you stopped to browse a shelf or pick up a book you'd maneuver yourself and him so that he was standing behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist or placing his hands on your hips.
"For someone who cut me off earlier you sure are touchy now" He teased, "Whats gotten into you?"
You shrugged coyly as you bent at the waist to grab a book from a lower shelf, consequently nudging your ass against Josh's crotch, your sun dress coming up high enough that his fingertips touched your thighs as he tried to smooth it down,
"Babe" He laughed lowly, glancing around to make sure no one had seen your white cotton panties as he pulled you back to standing. "What are-" He stopped mid sentence as if a lightbulb had gone off in his brain. His gaze traveled your face, taking in your innocent doe eyes as you fluttered your lashes at him,
Taking your hand he suddenly took off walking, rather briskly at that
"Josh, where-"
"I uh, need something over here" He said casually, but you noticed him gripping your hand tighter. Finally he abruptly turned down an isle. Looking at the dusty shelves as he drug you along you noticed what section you were in and started to laugh,
"Used college text bo-" He cut you off, pining you against the shelf with his body as his mouth crashed into yours. He wasted no time, pressing his tongue past your lips. He groaned as you welcomed it by sucking on it lightly, your own tongue moving against it. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you parted your legs just a little to get him even closer. One of his hands was at the nape of your neck, the other had drifted under your dress and was resting on your hip bone,
"Is this what you wanted?" He pulled away to whisper in your ear, nipping at the skin on your neck as his hand traveled closer to your heat, the back of his knuckles skimming down your lower stomach sending a chill over your body, "Almost forgot about this little fantasy of yours"
You searched your own memories, trying to remember when you had even told him about this deep seeded desire to get off in a library or bookstore. You decided it didn't matter when you told him, only that he remembered and it was actually happening, and that thought alone had wetness pooling between your legs.
"Answer me y/n, is this what you wanted?" His hand had moved around to the front of your neck, barely squeezing as he looked at you with dark lust filled eyes,
"Yes," You replied, barely loud enough for him to hear,
"I bet this pink little cunt is just aching isn't it?" his fingers began to rub your clit through the fabric thats already clinging to you. Your mouth falls open and your hips buck forward, silently begging him for more. His cheek is next to yours again, his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he slides your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your slick, "Y/n..." He groans quietly, lips ghosting up your jaw "Sweet girl, you're soaked"
You can hear the effect it's having on him, the strain in his voice as he begins to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb. You are trying your hardest to breathe quietly as he sucks and bites at your neck. You want desperately to look around and make sure no one is coming but with his hand around your throat and his fingers next to your jaw thats not going to happen.
"Gonna slip my fingers in this needy pussy and play with you till you cum" You gasped as he dipped one finger into you, "Finger fuck you right here in the middle of the store until you're dripping down your thighs,"
"Josh" You whimpered softly as he moved his finger in and out, his words swirling in your head and heating your skin
"Shhh" He hushed you by pulling you into another searing kiss,
A sudden loud noise had you jumping out of your skin, gasping as you broke the kiss and held Josh tighter, freezing as if that would hide you if someone was there,
"Jumpy" He huffed a laugh against your shoulder, "It's just thunder baby"
"Fuck" You laughed breathily, looking around to make sure there was no one in sight, your heart was racing at this point
When your eyes landed back on Josh he was smirking at you with half lidded eyes, You felt him remove his finger only to add a second one with it, your head falling back against the shelf
There was another loud crack of thunder and then everything went dark. Josh's movements stalled as you looked at each other, both registering that the power had just gone out. The store had become eerily quiet except for the rain hitting the windows. Then a distant voice spoke from somewhere on the first level,
"The power should come back on shortly, just stay where you are until it does" The store owner spoke,
"Gladly" Josh said more to himself than you, and began pumping his fingers into you faster,
You bit your bottom lip, trying your hardest to stay quiet as your fingers tightened in Josh's soft hair. An expert curl of his fingers had you breaking your reserve, a pathetic moan passing your lips,
Josh's eyes got wide and his hand flew from your neck to cover your mouth,
"You trying to get us caught?" he tilted his head as he zeroed in on your bodies reaction to the question, the way you clenched around his working fingers. He read you like a book, "Oh, you want everyone in here to hear what a little slut you are? Turn that corner and find us with my fingers buried inside you?"
Your breathing was ragged as your legs threatened to give out, the adrenaline and pleasure fogging your brain, you should be ashamed but you're not
"Mmm dirty girl, what a little minx you are" He teased, keeping his eyes on you as he felt you getting closer to your edge. You reached forward, blindly searching for the erection hidden in his pants. Finding it you started to palm him, your eyes rolling back when you realized just how hard he already was, "I know," He rasped into your ear, brows furrowed "I'm so fucking hard y/n, cum so we can get outta here and I can feel you on my cock,"
"Mhm" You mumbled behind his hand, nodding frantically as your orgasm crashed into you. You held on to Josh, barely keeping yourself upright as he worked you through it, his own lips parted as he watched you come undone.
Taking his hand from your mouth he kissed you again, swallowing down the noise of protest you made when his fingers slipped from you, pulling your panties back to their place. You looked at him with a cheeky smile as you smoothed your dress down,
"That was," You started but quickly realized you didn't have the words. Standing in front of you was a man who always made sure you got what you wanted, even if it was something like this.
"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, lets go" He said as he took your hand and started down the stairs. Using his phone light he navigated out of the bookstore and to the front door.
"Josh, it's still pouring rain?" You said with a laugh, "We didn't bring the umbrella"
"The car is just a block away, lets just run for it" he waited for your response with a wild gleam in his eye. He was in a hurry, glancing down you covered your mouth with your hand and tried to stifle your smile when you saw him trying and failing to hide the tent in his pants,
"Alright, one second" You leaned down and took off your sandals, knowing if you tried to run in them you'd fall on your ass. "Ok, I'm ready"
"Yeah?" He asked with a beaming grin, that boyish playfulness making an appearance. You nodded and he opened the door. Hand in hand you both ran down the street. You were both immediately soaked, a shrill noise left you as you made a sharp turn and bolted to the car. You had parked in a lot behind a building, and your car was one of a few other cars there.
"Backseat!" Josh tugged you back to him when you tried to head for the passenger seat,
"What?!" You asked, rain dripping down your face
"Get in the back seat!" He repeated with a laugh as he quickly opened the door. You both climbed in and he shut the door. Locking eyes for a split second you took in each other's drenched appearance, then at the exact same moment you both bubbled with laughter,
"Come here" Josh said as the giggling subsided. He reached for your hand, helping you to straddle his waist as he relaxed back against the seat. He blinked slowly as he looked up to you, "I love your laugh, you know that?"
"Well I'd hope so" you said as you leaned forward, kissing him between words, "You are always making me laugh" He grinned against your lips at that, hands on your hips rocking you against him.
"And I love how adventurous you are" He leaned his head back to the headrest as you reach between the two of you and unbutton his jeans,
"Me? Adventurous?" You teased as you wrapped your hand around his length and freed him from his boxers, tugging his clothes down to his thighs,
"I'd say so" He took in a sharp breath as you let a stream of spit fall from your mouth and land on him, "I just got you off in a bookstore and you're about to fuck me in my car"
"Bold of you to assume I'm going to fuck you" you raised a brow at him blithely as you began to stroke him, thumb brushing over his tip for good measure,
"Oh shut up" He said through a roguish grin, landing a swift smack to your ass before grabbing it and bringing your body closer to his again, "Quit being a tease y/n, sit on my cock and let me hear all those pretty noises you held back inside"
"So bossy Joshua" you scolded lightly as you sunk onto him, lowering yourself to the hilt as a relieved sigh passed his lips. He didn't respond and you realized then that he wasn't even listening, he was too far gone. He released your ass and reached up, taking the neckline of your dress and yanking it down to reveal your bare chest,
"Josh-" You gasped out, shocked by the brashness of the action. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to him. With one hand tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck and the other desperately digging into your back he connected his mouth to the plush skin of your breast, sucking harshly and groaning as you started to roll your hips,
"Move, please move baby" He whined against your skin, moving his mouth to the other side and nipping at the pebbled flesh there. You obliged, using your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself you began bouncing up and down. You'd raise almost all the way off before sinking back down. Your legs were already burning as you fucked him but his breathy moans and the way his stomach quivered just egged you on. "Ju-just like that, fuck" His hand traveled up your back and hooked over your shoulder, he started pulling you down onto him harder, bucking his hips up and meeting your thrusts half way.
"Oh god," You cried out, fingertips digging into Josh's shoulders at this point,
"I know, it's so fucking good" He rasped, chest heaving as his hips started to falter, "So goddamn good baby,"
Your hand abandoned his shoulder and moved to between your thighs, frantically rubbing circles over your clit,
"Shit," He grunted, screwing his eyes shut as if seeing you touch yourself would make him finish before he was ready. The corner of your mouth turned up slightly as you continued. You felt yourself getting close and so did Josh, "Keep going, keep going" He rushed out.
"I-I'm gonna-" You tried to get the words out but failed as your second orgasm took over, you slid your hand down further, scissoring your middle and ring finger on either side of Josh’s cock, feeling him fucking you as you came around him,
His eyes flew open and he moaned as he realized what you were doing. You brought your hand up, spreading your fingers in the air and showing him what you’d gathered as it shimmered between your fingers. He opened his mouth and offered his tongue to you, begging you with his eyes to give him what he wanted. His adam’s apple bobbed as you pressed your fingers into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he closed his lips around your digits and sucked,
“Come on, cum for me babe” your free hand moved to his throat and a moan that sound more like a whine vibrated against your fingers,
“Mhm, Mhm” he nodded quickly, pulling you down onto him hard, burying himself as deep as he possibly could and grunting as he spilled into you. After he came down you removed your fingers from his mouth, smiling at him lazily as you brushed a soaked curl from his face. A languid smile formed on his lips as well before he spoke,
“You are...everything” he said, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs as you pulled your dress back over your boobs,
“What does that even mean?” You giggled,
“I-I don’t even know how else to say it” he laughed as his forehead fell forward and landed on your shoulder, “You’re just, everything”
You scratched at his scalp and felt your heart swell when his eyes looked up to you,
“You keep doing that and I’m going to fall asleep right here” he warned,
“Wanna go home and stay in bed the rest of the day?” You offered, wiggling your brows
“Sounds good to me,” he sighed contentedly, leaning forward and giving you one last kiss before the both of you settled in your seats and headed home.
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upheavalofmemory · 11 months
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PAC | Your Love Story in Song
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Someone who received a reading from me once said that I tend to write scenarios as if I'm writing a whole fanfic. While I'm not a fanfic writer, I do love writing so... This pick-a-card is about your future love story based on songs!
This can apply to your future spouse, for your future partner, etc, although it is intended to be the most impactful relationship you have. I will be using shufflemancy and intuition, plus there is a bonus moodboard/image section!
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♢ There are three piles to choose from, all are CDs with writing on them/quotes. Pile one is "Songs to listen to when you're in love", pile two is "You're the only thing in life that I got right", and pile three is "Everything I could never tell you." ♢
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Pile One ♢ "Songs to listen to when you're in love"
Walking on a Dream by Empire of the Sun
C'mon - Single Version by Panic! At The Disco & fun.
Capsize by FRENSHIP & Emily Warren
A heaviness. Two people who refuse to believe that they're in love, but rather continue to wallow in their own problems until they realize that there was someone there all along. Youth. They both take baby steps until they realize that someone has been there alongside them the whole time and together they bring themselves up. Unfortunately, the highs are high and the lows are low, and sometimes it leads to explosive fights, crying, and the neverending cycle of breakups.
It's blue. It's in the dark, two lovers holding hands as you both sob over the destruction you have caused together. You both think to yourselves "Maybe this is why we are meant to be?" A combination of hail and rain, the worst thunderstorms, and the brightest sunny days after them, but mostly because you know that others would not be able to handle your violence (not literal).
On the worst days, you almost melt into each other. On the best days, you blend and ebb with each other's flows. There is no fear in either of your depths. They can get terrifying, yes, and from an outside perspective it can be seen as a toxic, violent cycle, but it is far from the truth. It's bittersweet, it's growth, it's pulling out hair like pulling weeds and sharpening knives to cut out rotten flesh. It's painful, yes, but it's the most invigorating ride you both have ever been on, and it's the most growth you've ever had. You trigger each other in the best and worst way possible.
It's pain and ascension. Growing your wings, pulling out the flightless feathers. Scratching away dead scales, shedding and spitting up venom. Like an animal learning how to breathe again. Poetic misery.
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Pile Two ♢ You're the only thing in life that I got right."
Nineteen by Dylan
Joan of Arc by Arcade Fire
Stop Making This Hurt by Bleachers
Good morning kisses and back hugs. Shared memories and shared coffee mugs, cuddles, and long movie marathons, but something is changing.
The love you shared is changing. Neither of you has gotten this far, you have no idea how to react. The passionate morning kisses become awkward side steps, the cuddles become awkward and suddenly you hate the color of the walls. You still love them, yes of course, but it's changing it's hue. Your chameleon lover is changing its colors and you haven't adjusted to the change in saturation. The giddiness goes away and becomes...comfortable. You fear that the passion is gone, you've never felt this way before. You're afraid they'll leave you.
You both lay on the duvet, staring above at the ceiling fan. Suddenly, you're both older. "How did we get here? Where has the time gone?" You both look at each other with a somewhat sad, but tender smile. The love hasn't gone away, it's just changed forms, and you're finally adjusted to the slower love you always deserved. You kiss, it's awkward and cheeky, but it brings a warmness to your body you've never felt before, a warmness you want to keep forever, and so you both do.
BONUS: While looking for images, Boreas by the Oh Hellos was playing in my head, it definitely matches the warm energy of this pile.
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Pile Three ♢ "Everything I could never tell you"
East of Eden by Zella Day
Oh No! by MARINA
Mine Forever by Lord Huron
It was a hook-up, it was a fling. You never pictured that you'd actually love your goofy lover. You couldn't imagine them being serious about anyone until one night you looked into their eyes and realized it wasn't lust. Out of fear, you left, and you were terrified.
This wasn't the type of person you would bring home to your family, but rather show off to your friends and your Instagram stories, but now things are changing. They aren't the person you expected to be, and you're slowly falling in love with their dopey smile and messy hair. "Nothing can get better than this," they say with a smile, and fall asleep in your arms. You feel the same way and it scares you.
You run from it, you ghost them and break their heart just for a moment until you look at yourself in the mirror and see the person you've never wanted to become. You take off your mask and realize you're just a scared child who never knew you were worthy of love or desired love. You put in the work, you change your face, and break your old mask.
You show up to their house to apologize and try to start fresh again, and whether or not they accept your apology is up to them, but you'll never forget them regardless.
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Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to check out my masterpost with more readings, or you can support me by purchasing a reading by clicking here. Thanks for the support, let me know which pile you picked and if it resonated or not :)!
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Christopher Lightwood
There is so much wrong with the world. I want it to make sense. I want to put it right. I want to find the solutions that are overlooked by others.
Happy Birthday Nad!! @life-through-the-eyes-of
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luvmomoiz · 5 months
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>littlespace [5-8] build a bear day outfit/moodboard!!
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little-pup-pip · 7 days
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Hey, I really love all the moodboards you've made! I was wondering if you could make a moodboard about cats and playing outside? I especially love tabby cats, treehouses, lazying around in sunny tall grass, cool shiny rocks and mushrooms and such. (Gender neutral / masc / no binkie). The moodboard doesn't need to be exact, of course!
Hope you're having a wonderful day!
Here you go!!
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Hi Jen! Congrats on the 1K ❤️ You deserve them all and so much more!
I’m sorry that I’m a little bit late with sending in a request but would it be possible to do “The grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” with Mr. Bucky 🥺 All the love and hugs to you!
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AN: Hanna, my love! I hope you enjoy this!
ANd this brings my celebration fics to a close. You still have plenty of time to write your own Challenge Fic for inclusion on my celebration masterlist.
Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog. Dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me
Main Master list | Challenge Master list 
Summary: You’re perpetually chipper and happy. The steely-eyed brunet you run into outside your work is not.
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Relationship: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
CW: Grumpy Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff and flirting.
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You’re always happy. Nothing ever seems to get you down. So much so, that even your friends call you ‘Sunny’. Que sera, sera was your motto. No use crying over spilt milk, etc. Life is what you make of it, so you choose to make it joyful. Your best friend thought that your receptionist job would eventually wear you down and turn you into a cynic, like her, but no. It was like being upbeat was your superpower.
It was therefore a normal morning as you walked down the sidewalk, humming along to the music pumping through your earbuds, on your way to work. The subway hadn’t been packed, the sun was shining out from behind the clouds and you knew it would be a wonderful day, especially once you’d picked up your hazelnut latte from old Frankie, the street coffee vendor half a block from your office. He always had your drink waiting for you and you always had just slightly more than the exact change, rushing away without taking the change, no matter how many times he’d tried to either catch up with you, or insist the next one was on the house. Thinking about that first sip of nutty-sweet milky java had you almost salivating. Unfortunately it also distracted you.
You registered the bump, followed by a curse that was loud enough to pierce through the music pulsating straight into your ears. You turned to see a man in a leather jacket, with short brown hair, swiping at the patch of wetness on his jeans with a gloved hand, while an empty paper coffee cup lay on its side on the ground. You pulled out your earbuds and then, without thinking, pulled a handful of paper napkins out of your purse. You dropped to a crouch in front of him and started to pat at the dampness.
“I’m so sorry! I was just distracted by the beauty of the day and the thought of my first coffee, and I just didn’t see you, and I hope you’re okay and…”
Your brain kicked in as two things happened. Firstly, you realised that you were patting very close to the stranger’s crotch. Secondly, the napkins were being pulled out your hand very firmly and you were being pulled to your feet.
Blue.
That’s what you noticed first.
Icy, steely blue.
His eyes were like diamonds and momentarily you couldn’t look away.
“...I said, do you always make a habit of accosting and groping strangers first thing in the morning?”
You snapped back to reality as you realised that ‘blue eyes’ was talking to you. Well, actually, it was more like growling at you. What a sourpuss. You flashed him one of your trademark smiles.
“Not everyday, I’ll admit - the police might have something to say about it.” The man ‘harumphed’ and continued glaring at you. Obviously not a fan of your brand of humour.
“...Anyway, let me get you another coffee, it’s the least I can do to apologise.”
You turned toward old Frankie and his cart, and bless his soul if he didn’t already have your drink, and what you could only assume was a duplicate of Grumpy’s order.
“The refill is on the house, Sunny. And no arguments. Accidents happen.”
You smiled at the old man and bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.
“That they do, Frankie. And, if you’ll excuse the blasphemy, it’s only coffee.”
He shook his head at you with a smile and waved you away so he could deal with his next customer. You turned back to the object of your unanticipated morning interaction, only to find that he’s gone. You turned in a circle, seeing if you could spot which way he’d gone, but nope, he’d completely disappeared. Well, his loss, and now you had a spare coffee. With a small shrug you continued on your way.
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Ten am, and you were settled into your day. You loved your job as a receptionist at the VA. You got to help some of your nation’s greatest and bravest citizens transition back to civilian life, which you felt was the least you could do to show your appreciation. When you weren’t greeting those coming to use the various services offered at this centre, you were phoning veterans to organise appointments for physiotherapy, counselling and group support sessions.
“Hey, Sunny!” You looked up from your computer to see Joe, one of the support group leaders smiling at you as he leant on your counter. 
“Morning, Joe! It’s a lovely day today, and made even better by you being here!” 
“Sunny, you keep flirting like that, I’m gonna have to insist you come out for a drink with me.”
You chuckled. This was your regular banter with him.
“Joe, you know this ain’t flirting, this is just me. And you’re as old as my dad.”
He clutched his hand to his heart, theatrically. “You wound me, Sunny. I may just expire, as I’m apparently that old. Anyhow, you got me the expected attendance list for the meeting?”
You rifled through the papers in the folder on your desk.
“Sure thing. Here it is. I can see you gotta few new names on here, so hopefully it will be an interesting one.”
“You know that’s an old Chinese curse - ‘may you live in interesting times’?” He gave you a wink as he took the paper from your hand and walked off towards the room he used, with only a slight limp giving away the fact that his right leg was a prosthetic.
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Half an hour later and the vets for the Joe’s group started to arrive, all of them being amputees of some description, some sporting prosthetics and others not. They all came together though, to talk about the trauma of losing a limb in combat, the long road to recovery and issues associated with having a prosthetic or a missing limb, both physically, mentally and socially. 
The regulars came up and used the computer screen on their side of your desk to log their arrival and get a printed photo sticker-badge to wear. The newbies, however, had to go through you for their first time, which is why you always recommended they turn up 15 minutes before the start of the session so you could double check their identity, the information you held and then get them a computer profile set up for all return visits.
You’d just completed all the paperwork with one newcomer, and sent him off with an old-hand to the meeting room when the doors to the building slammed open. You looked up and couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face.
“It’s you! I’m afraid I drank your replacement coffee, cos you disappeared so quickly.”
Grumpy just glared at you. You noticed there was still a slight stain on his jeans. You tried a different tack.
“Can I help you with anything? Are you a vet, or looking to support a vet? We’ve got lots of programmes and support groups.”
Still without saying anything he tugged the glove off his left hand, revealing the metallic sheen of the most advanced prosthetic you’d ever seen. Understanding dawned.
“Ooo! Are you here for the amputee support group?” You looked down at your copy of the attendance list, noting that only one vet, one of the new guys hadn’t yet checked in.  “Are you James Barnes?”
“Sergeant.”
A look of puzzlement marred your features.
“Pardon?”
“Sergeant Barnes.”  You got it then. Some guys, especially if fresh out and still adjusting, preferred to be referred to by their military rank. 
“Okay, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve just gotta get you set up here. What’s your date of birth?” You glanced up from your computer to find he was still staring at you.
“Seriously? You’re asking me that?”
You were confused by his tone; this wasn’t normally an issue.
“Absolutely. Gotta make sure I’ve got it all correct.”
“Like you don’t already know.”
Your almost permanent smile started to falter under his intense gaze.
“I really don’t. And I need it for the records.”
Barnes let out a resigned huff.
“Fine. Play your games. Seventeenth March, 1917.”
“1970? Gotta say, you don’t look like you’re over fifty. Good genes I suppose.”
“No, doll. 1917. One Nine One Seven.”
Now you were really confused.
“How is that possible? That would make you…” You paused while you did the maths in your head…. “One hundred and six. And like I just said, you don’t even look fifty.”
“Look, doll. Either you’re a really good actress, been hiding under a rock, or just dumb.”
Normally you could keep your cool, laugh and brush off negative comments, but something about the grumpy sergeant was rubbing you up the wrong way.
“That’s not very nice, Sergeant. Just because you don’t like the questions and don’t want to answer them properly, doesn’t mean you have to be mean to me.”
He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Are you really telling me that you don’t know who I am? Even with having my name in front of you, seeing my arm and me telling you how old I am? Don’t you ever watch the news?”
“Not really. It’s too depressing and sad.”
Another sigh.
“Okay, okay. My full name is James Buchanen Barnes, 107th. Presumed KIA in February 1945, but in fact taken captive by Hydra. I survived traumatic, unintentional amputation of my left arm via snowy mountainside, and was given a replacement by them when they brain-washed me, turning me into an assassin, and was kept cryogenically frozen between missions, spanning over 70 years. I was known as the Winter Soldier. My conditioning started to break in 2014 when I was commanded to kill Captain America, but as Steve was my childhood best friend, my brain rebelled. I went on the run for two years until I was framed for the assassination of King T’Chaka of Wakanda and captured by Shield, then triggered into my Winter Soldier state by a disgruntled Sokovian Baron, wanting revenge on the Avengers for the death of his family during the Ultron incident. I then spent a further two years in Wakanda, having my programming broken, recovering mentally and physically, and given this new arm, before fighting Thanos and getting dusted with half of everyone else. Came back in the Blip, and now supporting Sam Wilson as the new Captain America. I was pardoned for my past crimes and have to attend court mandated therapy and it’s been suggested that attending a support group could be good for me. Know who I am now?”
It was your turn to stare, eyes wide and mouth open as you absorbed all the information from his monologue.
“Soooo, what I’m getting is that you really are 106 years old and for some reason you have a pardon and court-mandated therapy for things you did while you were brain-washed. Seems hinky to me, but who am I to question it?”
A snort left Barnes’ nose, a mix of disbelief and amusement.
“That’s what you take from my story. No questions about Hydra, no histrionics about the fact that a famed assassin is standing in front of you?”
“Why would I? You’ve told me you’ve been ‘deprogrammed’, you’ve been referred to us for group support, and if you were that dangerous I’m sure I wouldn’t have survived the coffee incident this morning.”
His lips twitched, and his face transformed. The lines in his forehead disappeared and migrated to the corners of his eyes, eyes that were now less steel and more spring sky coloured.
“Nothing phases you, does it?”
“Nope. That’s why everyone calls me Sunny. And is that a smile I see, Sergeant? Don’t tell me that somehow I’ve broken through that stoic facade of yours?”
His smile grew wider.
“I’m sure you’re just imagining it. I’m still really annoyed.”
“Uh-huh?” You smiled back. No, you grinned back.
He leaned his crossed arms on the counter, his stance now far more relaxed.
“What other information do you need for that computer system of yours, Sunny? My telephone number perhaps?”
Oh, wow! He’d gone from grumpy to flirt in less than 60 seconds. Now he was fully smiling you had to admit he was kinda cute. Or rather hella hot. You resisted the urge to pull at the neckline of your top to let the steam out.
“I’ve already got a record of that here already, Sergeant.”
His arm reached over the countertop and he snagged your pen and notepad from next to you.
“Well, just in case you need it again for your records, or for any other purpose, I’ll write it down for you.”
If it was possible, your grin got wider.
“Why, Sergeant Barnes, that’s very… helpful of you.”
“Call me James, doll. Or Bucky, if you want.” The tip of his tongue peaked out from between his lips and you were mesmerised.
“Of course… James.” 
You swore you saw him shiver as you said his name. 
The clock above your head gave a ‘ding’ as it struck the hour, and you realised that his session was about to start. You gave a little cough and dragged your eyes away from Barnes’ James’ face and back to your computer.
“I’d best get this all finished off, so you can go join in the group. It’s really good - Joe is so lovely and supportive.”
You finished typing, directed him to stand in front of the camera (which he scowled at) and printed off his sticker ID.
“When you finish, just peel off the sticker, place it in the bin and note on the system that you’re leaving. That should be around midday.”
“And when do you get your lunch break, doll?”
Oh! How were you supposed to cope in the face of his megawatt charm? It had been a lot easier when he was grouchy, even though you’d wanted to tease him.
“Why, James, are you asking me out?”
“Well, you do owe me a coffee.”
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nailbatanddungeon · 3 months
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"Not to worry, baby. I'm E. You've never done this before, don't be nervous. Have you ever done anything?" He questions, his voice kind and still seductive.
"N-No."
"Shit honey. Are you a virgin?" He hears you let out a squeak of confirmation, "I got you, I can make you feel real good if you'll let me? Want me to take care of you?"
・ 。゚♡: *. Daddy’s Girl moodboard ・ 。゚♡: *. by @slutty-thevampireslayer
Merry Christmas, Sunny!! 🩷
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