1-800-ari

[1-800-ari]

showering:

pros: you get to feel clean. you get non greasy hair, non oily feeling skin, it just in general makes you feel better, more energised, refreshed.

cons: there are so many steps. oh my god are there so many steps. before getting into the shower there are steps. during the shower there are steps. and once youve gotten out of the shower? guess what!!! more fucking steps!!!!!!!! UGHHHH

[1-800-ari]

hello the emotion and the way I can feel the reader's anxieties as if I'm literally there, this is so descriptive and well written and honestly such wonderful representation and you are officially the love of my life,, let's get married

Let The Rain Fall | Bucky Barnes x Autistic!Reader | Short Series - Part 2 of 4 - 1.9k

Bucky gets a welcome surprise and you finally meet Captain America. But when things don't go quite how you expect, you start regretting your decisions.

Warnings: reader is very obviously uncomfortable, some mention of workplace bullying from other agents and the preamble to reader having a meltdown.

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read Part 1, I've been so ovewhelmed by the really personal responses and support, thank you! I also love how much the fabric softener scent has been brought up! This is definitely me and is an Easter Egg I've left in other fics too, so if you do check out any of my other stories keep your eye out!

<- Part 1

Masterlist | Let the Rain Fall Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

The last thing Bucky expected when he pushed the door to the hanger open was to see you sat on the benches with the other recruits. He noted there was a foot of space between youand the agents beside you, their voices loud and echoing. You were wearing the suit he’d brought you, you seemed comfortable enough apart from the zipper, which you were pulling up and down in time to the hum of the fan above your head.  

He was pleased you’d come, but something like guilt twisted inside of him at the look on your face. You looked genuinely pained, agonised, and he wondered, not for the first time that week, whether there was something you hadn’t told him.  

“Good to see you all.” He said, eyes scanning the room but consciously not settling on anyone as he walked past.  It was too tempting to let his gaze linger on you.

A chorus of ‘good morning, Sergeant Barnes’’ followed him as he entered the jet and took his place in the cockpit.  

The day was as uneventful as Bucky had described, a short ride on the jet and then an hour hovering over some empty base while the other recruits worked with Steve.

Each time the comm crackled you had a rush of panic that you’d be expected to join them on the ground, an opportunity you’d shook your head at and then allowed Steve to move on very quickly to the agent beside you. 

You gripped the seat harder, your jaw clenched. Closing your eyes you took a deep, steady, breath trying to imagine your happy place, a safe place, inside a tent, under a blanket and... 

“Are you okay, agent?” Bucky’s low voice echoed through your imaginary tent, breaking your peace. The dark utility of the plane came rushing back. 

“I’m not going down there.”  You said decisively, adrenaline coursing through you, preparing to argue. You could feel it, making your leg shake in anticipation of defending yourself.

“Okay.”  Bucky shrugged a shoulder.

“I’m serious I’m - wait, did you say okay?” You opened your eyes to find Bucky sat in the empty seat next to you, the jet clear of anyone else. His long legs were splayed open as he let his weight rest against the netting behind you.  

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just came to make sure you’re alright.”  

The lead weight of dread that had been settling in your gut vanished and, weightless, you smiled, “better now.”  Adrenaline still flooding your body you tried to hold back tears of relief.

“Is there anything you did want to see? Steve said you oversee mission debriefs? Maybe you’d like to watch the mission from the cockpit with me?” Bucky stood then, holding his hand out to you briefly before tucking both hands into his pocket awkwardly.  

“I’d like that, thank you.”  

Bucky wasn’t sure he’d ever had such a nice time waiting in the jet. He was often resigned to babysitting the Avengers’ jet, car, boat, horrid little safe house, whenever there was actual teaching to be done. He didn’t mind so much, it gave him the space to read his books, listen to some music or catch up on all the history he’d either missed or inadvertently been a part of. 

But today you were there too, and your presence brought him a sense of calm that had truly surprised him. 

“Make yourself at home.” He insisted, gesturing to the spare seat. 

“Thanks.” You sat carefully.

“I mean it, make yourself comfortable, we’ll be here for a while. You want a drink?” Cautiously you tucked your legs up, crossing them on the seat. Your boots were clean, immaculate even, worn only through the compound and into the hanger this morning, but you were careful to keep them as far off the seat as you could anyway. 

Bucky poured coffee from a large flask tucked into the side of his seat and topped it off with a generous helping of milk. 

“That’s just how I like it.”

He smiled, wide and pleased, “I asked around, wanted to make sure you enjoy your first mission.” 

That flutter appeared in your chest again, the surprising desire to stay close to him that had first made itself known when he'd squeezed himself in to your tiny office.

“Not really a mission if I don’t do anything,” you blew steam from the top of your enamel cup and took a sip, cupping your hands around the warm metal. 

“Well, that's all I’m doing and I’m an ‘Avenger’.” Bucky laughed making his voice deeper as he said Avenger before reaching his arm out to clink your mugs together. “Cheers to the easiest job on the roster.” 

You fell into an easy silence, Bucky read his book for a while until you couldn’t hold it in anymore and told him you’d read it a few weeks before. Before you knew it two hours had melted away and you were curled up comfortably in Steve’s seat, giving Bucky a run down of your favourite books so far that year. He watched you, the wide grin softening into an indulgent smile while you blossomed before his eyes. 

Some of the other agents had been whispering about you, while you boarded the jet, that you were odd, childish, over the top and impossible to be around. But he enjoyed the exuberant way you described each plot, the glimmer of excitement in your eyes when he agreed with you and the blunt dry way you told deadpan jokes before breaking into peals of laughter. 

Silently he prayed that you’d come with him again, just to spend time with him even if you didn’t want to be in the field.  

You surprised Bucky by coming on the next recon as well, even agreeing to accompany him to collect Steve and some other agents from a secondary base. Silently, you followed him into the cockpit and set your bag down next to him, tac suit immaculate apart from one addition, a small toy turtle on a keyring that dangled from the zipper.

“I got you a present,” you said once the jet was at altitude and Bucky had flicked a considerable number of important looking buttons and levers. Steve and the others had parachuted in this time, your stomach had turned just watching them.

Bucky turned to look at you, the clear blue of the sky reflected in his eyes. 

“Really? You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know, but I saw them in the gift shop in New York and, well, I like mine so-” trailing off you rummaged in your bag, pulling out a paper gift bag sealed with tape. 

Bucky took the little parcel from you and carefully opened it, removing the fluffy socks, striped like his arm, that were tucked up inside and staring at them.  

“Oh god that was stupid, I’m so sorry.” Your heart beat wildly, sweat forming on your brow.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, a way to keep you focused while you saw your doctor in New York. The city didn’t seem so busy when you were focused on your task, and Bucky had been so kind he deserved a present. But this was a stupid present, stupid, stupid present. You ground your teeth and squeezed your hand together, allowing your nails to bite into your palm. 

Before you could take them back, Bucky unrolled them and held them up, a huge grin growing on his face. “They’re socks! They make socks of me.” He laughed, rubbing his thumb against the soft fluffy fabric. “And you said you like yours - you got my socks have you?” 

“I - no - I -” you stammered and Bucky looked at you properly, a flush of embarrassment appearing on his own cheeks. 

“I’m messing with you ya doll, I love them, thanks.” 

Bucky’s heart

had soared, you’d bought him a present. Something you liked too and you’d thought about him when you weren’t together. He couldn’t deny how addictive your presence had become, the mixture of calm and joy. If you brought him a present surely that meant you liked him too? 

He’d have to talk to Steve later, he seemed to know more about you and where you’d come from.

The rest of the journey went by quickly, you talked about a new show you were watching, a book you finished and how terrible most of the agent’s handwriting was when you were trying to decipher their field notes, not to mention the way they ticked boxes wrong and put things in the wrong files.

He discovered it was you who’d streamlined the paperwork, automated some of the questions and changed the paperwork so it matched across teams. He was somewhat in awe of your ability to see efficiencies as if they were tangible, organising his own Avengers issue tablet to minimise the emails he received and sorting the rest into neat little folders in his inbox, all in the last twenty minutes of the mission.

Too soon the agents themselves were piling into the back of the jet, tired but excited, chattering away. Even Steve was still in a good mood, bouncing into the cockpit, his Captain America smile plastered on but his suit unzipped enough to show his flush chest and the grime of the mission on his neck. 

“Hey Buck, let’s get - oh, hello Agent.” He came up short, as if he hadn’t seen you at all. 

“Hi, Mr Rogers, Sir, Captain?” You fumbled. 

Bucky winced, you hadn’t really met Steve yet, he should’ve introduced you both properly instead of letting you struggle. 

“Steve is fine, Agent, you stay there if you want,” the Captain America smile morphed into his real, Steve, smile, and you looked surprised. He winked and turned to leave the cockpit again.

Before Steve had even shut the cockpit door you could feel the awkward lump of confusion move from sitting in your through with your unuttered words down into the pit of your stomach. Should you have given Steve his seat back? He seemed so insistent that you stay but maybe he was being polite and there was some etiquette rule that you weren’t away of at play.

You looked out at the gathering clouds in the distance and fixed your eyes on one cloud in particular, honing in on the shades of grey that built each bump and groove. 

“Are you alright? You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to?” Bucky whispered from the seat to your right, the dark metal fingers of his hand lingered on your arm rest, so close you could feel his presence without him touching you. 

No.

No you were not alright.

It had been too long since you were in your own space, the jet was so loud and the din of the other agents so overwhelming that you thought you might be drowning in noise. You were confused about Steve’s behaviour, he was a superior, yes, but just a man and you didn’t think you needed to bow and scrape to him. But maybe you did?

“You’ve gone again, Doll. I need to know you’re okay.” His hand touched your elbow for just a second and then withdrew.

Oh, shit, you had, you were gone, everything felt weird and heavy and fuzzy, your eyes had drifted back to the clouds, body still, apart from the heaving of your chest as your breaths became more panicked. 

“I - yeah - I’m fine.” You grit your teeth into a false, pained smile and dug your nails into the arms of your chair. “I shouldn’t be here though, I should go back. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I’ll get Steve.” Before Bucky could stop you, you’d jumped up and rushed through the door leaving Bucky confused and alone in the cockpit. 

[1-800-ari]

hi, welcome to my library! I kindly ask that before interacting, please make sure you display your age on your blog somewhere. minors and weirdos DNI, and ageless blogs will be blocked. I will not be posting or reblogging smut, however some works may be suggestive, and not appropriate for minors.

that being said, I've given fair warning, and you are in charge of the media you consume. please abide by the rules on every blog you interact with, they're there to keep you and others safe. thank you!

[1-800-ari]

no because the way I actually needed this 😭�� not exaggerating, I'm proper bawling rn this was so sad and soft and sweet and he's prob one of my least fav ce characters but now I want an ariiiii grr bark bark woof woof

Warm Embrace

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: During a rough week, Ari wants to make sure he’s there for you

Word count: 1,249

Content/warnings: crying, non-descriptive mentions of stress, angst, comfort, kissing

A/N: For my sweet, sweet Mel @steviebbboi I hope everything is okay and this can help just a little bit with everything. I love you!!

Comments, reblogs, and asks are especially appreciated!

Dividers by @kodaswrld

Main Masterlist

Your eyes burned, straining to see your computer screen so late in the night, but you couldn’t afford to cut your hours short. You were doing important work and actively helping people who really needed it. Who cares what your own life looked like? You’d figure it out. You had tomorrow off anyway, you could just push through until then.

Besides, that would help you forget about everything else going wrong right now. Everything that was so messed up and stressful and out of your control. It was fine. You were fine.

Except Ari saw through it. He saw through the faltering smile you’d given him at breakfast yesterday. He saw through the mumbles you gave him of “I packed spaghetti leftovers for your lunch tomorrow” when you insisted on aggressively doing the dishes the night before. And he saw through you claiming your third cup of coffee this evening was because you “weren’t getting good sleep probably.” Because it wasn’t just bad sleep. It was more than that and it pulled on his heartstrings to watch you trudge through this week.

It wasn’t at all dissimilar to how you’d trudged your way through the apartment to bed after you finally shut your laptop and turned off the dim lamp on your small desk in the corner of the living room. You didn’t even have the energy or drive to brush your teeth before flopping into bed as gently as you could to prevent rousing Ari. He tended to go into work pretty early in the morning, tomorrow included. He’d seemingly slept like a log the last few nights went you’d laid down next to him, but a stretch and low groan in response to you pulling the covers over your shoulder made your heart drop.

Ari turned over in the bed, taking in your form that was turned away from him, curled up as tight as he’d ever seen. Just over the rustling of the comforter, he heard you speak in a small voice, “I’m so sorry, Ari. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He had to fight the temptation to coo at just how torn up you were right now. He knew you were just so strained, and the wrong thing could make it worse, but he was more than happy to offer gentle comfort.

He shifted closer to you, his body wrapping around your own, arms warm and tight, beard next to your cheek where he pressed a gentle kiss.

“I was already up, Sugarplum. Don’t worry about it.”

He moved farther down to kiss along your shoulder as he whispered against your skin again, voice slightly rough with sleep. “You’re amazing, you know that, right? I love you so much. You make me happy by being yourself, and you’re so, so strong.”

You couldn’t help the way tears welled in your eyes, simply sniffling before grabbing one of Ari’s hands and pulling it up to your mouth for a peck. “Thank you. I needed that.”

And for the first time in a week, you felt your body relax into a peaceful slumber.

You woke up to the sun shining on your face through the crack in the curtains. You were used to waking up with cold sheets next to you, but when you stretched out under the covers, rolling over to shove your nose into Ari’s pillow, it was still lukewarm.

You turned your head in suspicion, and that’s when you caught a whiff of sweetness from the kitchen. It was mixed with the bitterness of brewed coffee, which didn’t make sense. Ari should have been gone hours ago, yet you could faintly hear oldies drifting toward the bedroom along with the delicious scent of breakfast.

As you sat up in bed, you noticed an old beaten up sweatshirt sitting on your nightstand. Your favorite of Ari’s. You slipped it on, along with a pair of socks to combat the cold floors and shuffled towards the bedroom door. When you opened it, music blasted through, along with sunlight bouncing off the white walls, although that could’ve been the brightness of Ari’s beaming smile as he watched you emerge.

You rubbed your bleary eyes, trying to help them adjust as you joined him in the kitchen, your croaky voice breaking through.

“Ari, what’s going on?”

He placed a kiss to your forehead before turning his attention back to the skillet on the stove and flipping the pancake that sat there cooking.

From the stack that already sat on a plate on the counter, you could see they were your favorite, filled with chocolate chips and seemingly all the fruits from the fridge. Or as Ari liked to call them…

“Pancakes supreme! Just for you, Sugarplum. Go on, take a seat.”

Your mind was too tired to react to his chipper mood consciously, but beyond your control, a smile began to tug at the corner of your lip as he slid the plate in front of you where you’d taken a spot on one of the kitchen stools. They were still warm, stacked up with pads of the good butter melting in between, a fork and knife tucked in beneath the bottom of the pile. It was perfect, Ari was perfect, and before you could help it, the floodgates opened.

Tears poured down your cheeks and your chest began heaving, shoulders jerking in a sob. And in a flash, Ari was on you, big hands framing your face, thumbs brushing away the salty trails. His eyes were full of concern as he searched for what was wrong.

“Hey, hey, shhhh, it’s okay. Did I do something?”

You took another gasping breath as you shook your head, wrist moving up to wipe your nose before you finally looked at him.

“N-no. A-and yes. Y-you’re supposed to be at work! And you stayed home? For me? F-to do this?”

Your breathing, while still frantic, was starting to calm down when Ari moved his arms to squeeze you tight, your head falling between his firm pecs, arms clinging to his narrow waist. He placed a long, lingering kiss to the top of your head, breath steady in a rhythm that you body couldn’t help but want to match as he rumbled in response.

“Of course I did. I felt like you could use a little extra love today.”

You nodded against him as you pulled his body even closer. Ari knew everything going on, and the two of you hadn’t discussed how much it was affecting you, but you were so grateful he was able to sense it and do his best to help you out on the harder days.

“Yeah. Thank you, Ari.”

You peeled your body from his to look up in his eyes, filled with nothing but the deepest affection and care. No judgement at all. How did you get so lucky?

“I love you.”

The grin that graced his face at that gave you a spark of warmth inside that you hadn’t felt in days, finally getting the peace that helped you let go of everything difficult in life, even if just for a minute.

“I love you more, Sugarplum.”

As you shook your head in amused disbelief, Ari leaned down to place a tender, reverent kiss on your lips. When you wouldn’t let him leave so easily, though, he laughed and smiled, nose still nudging yours playfully.

“You better eat these pancakes before they get cold. Then we can continue wherever this is going.”

Bonus A/N: hope you don’t mind I gave your pancakes a name, Mel.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63

[1-800-ari]

pairing: jake jensen x f!reader

warnings: menstruation, f!reader, cramps, pain, petnames, suggestive talk

a/n: first post on this blog yall! icl I haven't written in years, so this is terrifying and if it flops, I'll prob cry myself to sleep tonight, but anyway, here you go

"c'mon, pretty baby, you gotta get up..." the crooning voice of your boyfriend drifted through the air, determined to do what your alarm had failed to do, and wake you up for classes.

and you wanted to. God, you wanted to. your professor had already noted your absences with concern, and your workload would only grow heavier if you missed sessions and tried to play catch up, you knew.

but you couldn't do it. "not going in. got cramps, jakey, it hurts. everything hurts." you croaked out a groggy whine, willing away the tears pricking at your eyes as you hid your face in your elbow.

"aw, why didn't you tell me, sweetie?" he asked, and his voice dropped to a soft whisper. the mattress dipped next to you, and his hands were so warm on the bare skin of your back. "did you get your period last night? you should have woken me up."

your joints were screaming at you as you moved to shake your head slightly. the last thing you wanted to do was disturb his sleep. he always told you that you should wake him up, but unless the house was getting robbed, you wouldn't, and he knew it.

"what can I do to help, honey?" his fingers, calloused from hard labour, were so gentle in your hair, painstakingly untangling every knot. you didn't even feel a twinge.

"can I have my furry baby please?" you asked quietly. though it sounded like you were talking about a cat, the furry baby you mentioned was actually a pink, fluffy hot water bottle that, every month, you carried around on your stomach as if it was a baby you were growing.

you couldn't remember who dubbed it as such. frankly, you didn't care either. you just wanted to feel the heat and weight on your stomach, dulling the constant, excruciating pain.

"of course, sweetie. I'll get it for you." his knees lifted off the mattress to go to the kitchen, and the room seemed to drop about ten degrees. you moved not an inch as you awaited his return, face still buried in the pillow, arms underneath it.

the door swung open again after a few minutes, and you habitually lifted your stomach to allow him to slide the fluffy hot water bottle underneath your abdomen, in just the right place.

"thankies." you muttered quietly. "love you."

it was like you could hear jake's heart racing, thumping against his chest, threatening to escape, every time you told him so. "love you too." he whispered, the wide smile he wore across his handsome features was prominent in his words.

the mattress dipped besides you once more, and this time, he stretched across the bed, carefully draping an arm over your waist as he lay next to you, his nose nuzzling into your neck.

"you smell amazing, damn it. why do you always do this to me?" a good natured grumble fell from his lips, punctuated by a quiet laugh, his chest rumbling next to you.

"I always smell amazing, why are you surprised?" you answered, shifting closer to him.

"I'm not surprised." his lips brushed the soft skin on the side of your neck. "but I don't think I can wait a full week."

"I mean, the bathroom is right there, you can take a minute and fix your... little problem, and just come back." you shrugged. the soft slurring of your words reminded him of how tired you really were. you'd been up until 3 am the night before, as well. unable to switch off your brain.

"I'll remember that, honey. you sleep now, yeah? I'll still be around when you wake up." he pressed a tender kiss to your temple, though you were already out like a light. "sweet dreams."

[1-800-ari]

honestly I admire the dedication it takes to write any fic, but especially ones that touch on topics like this are national treasures, and even if I can't relate to all of it, I'll appreciate it just the same. I hope you also appreciate your work, because you should always be your own biggest fan.

thank you so much, I'll be sure to remember that, and I appreciate your kind words more than I can say <3

Let the Rain Fall | Bucky Barnes x Autistic!Reader | 10k

Bucky and Steve are looking for some new agents to join their team and your CV is incredible, so why are you holed away in the office? Your need for quiet and peace feels shocking in the always busy compound, but Bucky finds himself seeking you out more and more.

Series Warnings: some language, reader with a power, angst, depection of an autistic meltdown, workplace bullying, mental health whump, but also fluff, kissing and cosiness. Rated S for Bucky is supportive and A for advocating for yourself.

Part 1 - to be posted 15th Jan

Part 2 - to be posted 22nd Jan

Part 3 - to be posted 29th Jan

Part 4 - to be posted 5th Feb

A/N: I've been really nervous to post this because, although I always put something of myself into reader characters, this is a paticularly vulnerable side of me.

I started writing this after I got a new job, began my journey to being diagnosed as autistic and while I was fighting for accomodations at work. It should be clear, but I want to say it too, that this really is my experience of being autistic and doesn't (and isn't meant to) represent everyone's experience. It would be impossible to capture everyone's experiences and, like all kinds of disability, every person will think and feel differently about their needs, abilities and limitations.

I hope you like this fic and even if you can relate to some of the negative aspects of the story, hopefully you can eenjoy the fluff too. There'll always be people who wilfully misunderstand and mistreat us, but equally there'll always be those who love us for who we are and help us thrive.

[1-800-ari]

girlie the only right way to write a fic is with zero plan, winging it. I'm so excited for more, but make sure to take care of yourself first and foremost, writing is always second to your health, whether that's mental or physical. and remember that for every person who dislikes still life, there's a hundred who love it, and if you have zero still life fans left, it means I'm dead

hellooo, I just wanna tell you that I'm obsessed with still life, I know it's only one chapter long rn, but I love it more than I love myself,, thank you for writing it you beautiful human

This is incredibly sweet! Thank you so much!! 💜💜💜 I've already started on part two, and I'm really excited to continue to share this story. I can't wait to see where it all goes (because, of course, there's no plan. There's never a plan 🤭).

[1-800-ari]

someone, anyone, feel free to slap me as a reminder of this if I ever forget. I can't even remember the last time I was looking forward to something this much. this level of representation in fics is what I live for. it feels like I don't really have a right to say this is representation for me, since I've still not been properly diagnosed (why is it such a long process with NHS 😭😭) but it really does feel like being seen

Let the Rain Fall | Bucky Barnes x Autistic!Reader | 10k

Bucky and Steve are looking for some new agents to join their team and your CV is incredible, so why are you holed away in the office? Your need for quiet and peace feels shocking in the always busy compound, but Bucky finds himself seeking you out more and more.

Series Warnings: some language, reader with a power, angst, depection of an autistic meltdown, workplace bullying, mental health whump, but also fluff, kissing and cosiness. Rated S for Bucky is supportive and A for advocating for yourself.

Part 1 - to be posted 15th Jan

Part 2 - to be posted 22nd Jan

Part 3 - to be posted 29th Jan

Part 4 - to be posted 5th Feb

A/N: I've been really nervous to post this because, although I always put something of myself into reader characters, this is a paticularly vulnerable side of me.

I started writing this after I got a new job, began my journey to being diagnosed as autistic and while I was fighting for accomodations at work. It should be clear, but I want to say it too, that this really is my experience of being autistic and doesn't (and isn't meant to) represent everyone's experience. It would be impossible to capture everyone's experiences and, like all kinds of disability, every person will think and feel differently about their needs, abilities and limitations.

I hope you like this fic and even if you can relate to some of the negative aspects of the story, hopefully you can eenjoy the fluff too. There'll always be people who wilfully misunderstand and mistreat us, but equally there'll always be those who love us for who we are and help us thrive.

[1-800-ari]

noo omg the poor omega :( I'm sure Curtis will look after her and help her get back on her feet bc he's a sweetheart. ik it's fiction, but it's really got me thinking that things could've been a lot worse for me, I have a lot to be grateful for. especially my access to tumblr, with incredible authors like you

Still Life 1

Pairing: Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Summary: Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad...

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending), past abuse (not Curtis), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, physical scarring, extreme sexism, adult themes, explicit language, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by me this time!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, this is for all of you who thought you'd seen the worst angst I could possibly do. Sorry for how much this one's gonna hurt!

Big thanks to @paperweight91 and @bigtreefest who both read so much of this and helped with structuring and world-building. And huge thanks to everyone who showed so much enthusiasm for this idea. I'm so excited to share this story with you!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Nzzzz Nzzzz Nzzzz

Nzzzz Nzzzz Nzzzz

It took a moment for Curtis to pull himself out of sleep enough to realize the incessant noise was his phone vibrating loudly on his nightstand. It took another moment for him to pull himself together enough to answer it. “Hello?” he croaked.

“Morning, Curtis,” a harried voice came through from the other end. “This is Yona from the Omega Welfare Center. I'm so sorry to call so early, but we've had kind of a crazy night here and we're in need of several emergency placements.”

That had him waking up. “What happened?” he asked, seriously, sitting up in bed.

She sighed, all of her exhaustion coming through. “A traditionalist compound a couple hours away got raided by the feds and ATF. They prepared for some omegas, but… There were a lot more. Kids too. It’s been all hands on deck at all five omega centers in the state. We’re over capacity, so we’re just trying to place anyone we can immediately.”

“Shit,” Curtis mumbled to himself. Traditionalist communities popped up on the news every once in a while, populated mostly by alphas on a power trip. But this one sounded bigger than most. He looked at his clock. It was just past five. “I’ve got room for one,” he said. “And I can be there in an hour.”

“Thank you, Curtis. I’ll see you soon.”

Fifty-five minutes later, Curtis was checking in at the center, his second coffee clutched in one hand. He’d been volunteering there as a foster Alpha for about three years. Mostly short-term placements. His longest one was just over a month. He provided safe touch, grounding, and a sense of security to omegas who needed to get back on their feet. He’d help them through heats when necessary, never knotting them, but whatever else they might need. Often, it was just his scent. It made him feel good, to be able to help these omegas, offer a positive alpha experience to omegas who hadn’t had many.

He’d worked with a few different case workers during his time. Yona had been the main one for the past year. He’d never heard her sound like she had that morning.

Even just at the front desk, he could sense how much more chaotic it was here than usual. He could hear babies screaming beyond the office door, endless anxious chatter. The entire building reeked of omegas in distress. It made his nose itch and his skin crawl.

After a few minutes of waiting, Yona came and got him. “How bad is it?” he asked the omega as she hurriedly led him down the hall. 

She showed him into a small meeting room as she answered, “Really, really bad. I’ve never seen anything like it. None of them are talking, but from what we can gather, most of them have spent their entire lives in the compound. No IDs, no papers. Figuring out who they are has been nearly impossible.  And as terrible as it may have been, their whole world was ripped apart in the last twenty-four hours. No one feels like cooperating. We hope you might have better luck as an alpha.”

“You think they'll talk to me?” 

She shakes her head. “Just the Omega we're placing with you. They've all been taught never to trust outsiders, but they've also been raised to see Alphas as the ultimate authority. So, it's worth a shot.”

He nodded, slowly. “What do you need?”

“Just basic identifying information for now. So we can see if she even exists in any sort of governmental system. Then we can go from there.”

“If you don’t have any information, what makes you think I’ll be a good fit for her?”

“Honestly,” Yona said, with a helpless shrug, “you only have room for one and she doesn’t have any pups. That’s it. Listen, I know this isn’t how we normally do things and I’m so sorry I’m just throwing you into it without any preparation, but we’re really desperate here. They’re all high needs, high risk. There’s no existing support network for them, and there are more of them than we have room for. So we called all of our most experienced, most dependable alphas first thing this morning so we can focus on the ones we have room to house here. I know it isn’t fair to you but–”

“Hey,” Curtis interrupted. “It’s ok, I understand. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“Thank you,” she breathed out, a small fraction of the tension she’d been holding bleeding out of her shoulders. “Ok, I’m gonna go bring her in.” 

She slipped through the door and Curtis leaned against the table in the center of the room as he waited. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on putting together a to-do list. He had two sets of nesting supplies always ready, one with his scent and one without. In the next few days, he’d try to figure out if there was anything else this omega wanted for the nest. He’d gone grocery shopping the day before, so his pantry was stocked, but he’d see if there were any favorite comfort foods he could grab in his next shop. He needed to rearrange his work schedule, push back some deadlines so he’d have time to get the omega settled. He had no idea what they’d be bringing with them, so a shopping trip for toiletries and clothes would probably be necessary. Depending on the omega's state, maybe he'd be able to get the shopping done on the way back to his house. He glanced at the time on his phone. Shit. Depending on what was open.

At movement right outside the door, he stood at attention. Yona came back in with you right behind her. He took a good look at you. You wore a rumpled long-sleeved floral dress that went down to your ankles. It was faded like it’d been washed too many times. Your eyes were fixed on the tennis shoes you wore, which had probably been white at one point, but now were discolored and looked like they didn’t fit quite right. 

There was a little hand-written number ten pinned to your dress. He wanted to raise a judgemental brow at Yona, but if none of you would say your names, he supposed Yona and her team had to come up with some way to keep track of you all.

He had to stifle a gasp when his eyes landed on your neck. There was a large bite scar over your mating gland. Unlike the neat and pretty, well-healed ones he was used to seeing, yours was deep and jagged, red and white, scar tissue bubbling up where your flesh had clearly been torn. This didn’t look like a mating bite. It was the sort of bite meant to inflict pain. What sort of alpha had you had??

Your eyes stayed on the floor, your expression blank but your scent said so much – panic, sadness, terror, relief all jumbled together. He wanted to reach out and touch you, his alpha instincts were going haywire, but he kept his hands to himself. 

“This is Curtis,” Yona said to you. “He's the alpha who's going to look after you until we can get all this sorted.”

You didn’t react at all, just stood there, stiff as a board with your eyes on your shoes.

He stayed where he was, conscious of giving you space. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said, as gently as he could. Then, with a glance to Yona, “Can you tell me your name?”

Your face scrunched up and the fear in your scent spiked but you didn’t say anything. He sighed. Shit. He really didn’t want to have to use an alpha command with you right now. That could be disastrous for any dynamic he tried to build with you. But they needed this information. He really, really hoped you wouldn’t make him force you.

“Omega, what’s your name?” he asked as firmly as he could, hopefully without scaring you. “I need to know.”

You closed your eyes tightly and he thought he saw the smallest little head shake. There was another moment of silence and he looked at Yona nervously. But then, you said it. So quietly he almost didn’t catch it. But you said it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yona frantically scribbling it down, but his focus was completely on you.

He tried to keep his sigh of relief to himself. “That was so good. Thank you. You’re doing so well,” he said, keeping the praise soft, hoping you could scent how pleased he was with you. “When were you born?”

You gave up your birthday a little more easily, but you left off the year. 

“That’s great. Thank you. Do you know how old you are?” he asked, maintaining his gentle tone, knowing it was possible that you didn’t.

For whatever reason, it was that that finally got a reaction out of you. You looked up at him, so he could finally see your eyes, and snarled, “I’m not stupid!”

There was a beat when no one did anything. Curtis and Yona just stared at you in shock. The snarl was frozen on your face until it suddenly disappeared and your eyes got wide. Before he was able to process any of what was happening, you’d dropped down onto your knees. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Alpha, I’m sorry.” You just keep repeating that in a constant stream, your head tucked to your chest.

Repeatedly mixed into that jumble was a number. It took Curtis a few moments to realize it was your age. You were answering his question. He quietly repeated it to Yona, then dropped down to his knees as well so he could be closer to your level. “Hey, hey. You’re okay. You’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re right. You aren’t stupid. I can already tell how smart you are. It’s okay. I’m not mad.” He wanted to reach out and touch you, wrap you in his arms, even, comfort you however he could. But he was too afraid that that’d make you panic even more. That was a boundary he couldn’t cross. Not yet. He stayed down there, whispering reassurances to you for as long as it took for you to stop apologizing, and a few extra minutes for your breathing to calm down. Once you seemed like you were back in the present moment, he moved to a crouch. “Think you can stand up for me, honey?”

You nodded, but you were back to keeping your eyes downcast. “Yes, Alpha.”

He wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to call him ‘Alpha,’ that ‘Curtis’ was just fine. But that could wait until you were a little more comfortable. Once he had you home, maybe. He could already tell that picking his battles was going to be important.

“Thank you,” he said as he stood up to his full height, and you did as well. “You answered my questions so well. You gave me exactly what I needed.” He looked to Yona to see if there was anything else.

“Do you have any questions for me or Curtis?” she asked you.

You shook your head, emphatically, hunching your shoulders. The room filled with the scent of fear again.

“Okay… that’s fine,” Yona said, and he could tell how much she hated this. “Well,” she turned to Curtis, “I’ll go get the paperwork and then you two can get home. I’ll be right back,” she said to you, then left the room. 

This was happening too fast. In normal circumstances, you would have already been at the center for a few weeks, at least, with access to mental health professionals, life skill classes, and support groups. He’d be the last step before going back to the real world. You’d be ready to spend time with an alpha. Ready to work through processing positive physical attachments. Ready to learn how to share space with someone who wasn’t a threat to you. You’d be ready to slowly take steps into the world, with him there to support you.

You had backed yourself into the corner now. He could see the way every single muscle in your body was trying not to cower. You weren’t ready. You were nowhere near ready. But with all the resources for at-risk omegas pushed to their limit by this raid, what would happen to you if he didn’t take you? As insufficient as it might be, his help could be all you’d be able to get. This wasn’t how it should be, but he’d do everything he could for you.

Yona came back in and he watched her take you in, sighing at your state. He knew she was thinking the same things he was. “Ok,” she said, handing him the packet of forms to sign. “No changes since last time. You know the drill.”

He nodded as he grabbed them and sat down at the table, getting to work signing where he was supposed to. As he did, he felt your eyes on him as the scent of your apprehension filled the room.

Yona called your name. “Let’s go outside for a minute while Curtis finishes up.”

You both left quietly. This, too, was part of normal procedure. She was asking if you were sure you were comfortable leaving with him, telling you you had the option to say no, getting your verbal and written consent, and giving you cards with all the emergency numbers on them. He was afraid this situation might stretch the legal definition of informed consent. Based on everything he’d seen so far, he couldn’t picture a scenario where you’d say no. 

Nothing about this felt good, but everyone’s hands were tied. And he knew that he’d do everything he could to keep you as safe as possible.

A few minutes after he’d finished signing the last page, you and Yona came back in. A worn knapsack hung from your fingers. It was small, confirming Curtis’s suspicions that you didn’t have much in the way of clothes. Alright, that was priority number one.

Yona had a thin folder in her hand that she immediately passed to Curtis. “The regular information, along with her schedule of appointments for the next few weeks, both doctor and therapist. And the card for the agent in charge of the investigation into the compound, in case anything pertinent comes up.” Then she turned to you with a small box. “I’ve got a couple packets of suppressants for you. Do you want them or do you want Curtis to keep track of them for you?”

Your eyes cut to him suspiciously then flitted back to the floor. “Alpha,” you muttered.

“Okay,” Yona said, handing the box to Curtis as well. Then she clapped her hands together, her face set in grim determination. “I won’t keep you any longer then. I’ll see you both next week.”

On the way out of the center, Curtis was all too aware of the way you walked exactly three steps behind him, one step to the left. That wasn’t just old-fashioned, it was archaic. He’d never seen an omega do it in real life.

At his truck, you looked at the truckbed in a way that made him worried you might try to ride back there, so he opened the passenger door for you and waited for you to get in. He resisted the part of his alpha instincts that wanted to buckle you in. And after a gentle request, you did it yourself.

As the two of you hit the road, he reached over to turn the radio on. He tried to move slowly, but you still flinched. “Want some music?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t respond, so he found an oldies station and left the volume low. His plan for the day had shifted a bit. You definitely weren’t ready to go shopping. That was fine. There was nothing that couldn’t be delivered.

About five minutes into the drive, the strong scent of your tears filled the cab. He looked over at you. You were huddled against the door, as far away from him as you could get. Your face was pressed against the window, so all he could see was the back of your head. But he could hear your sniffles and he could smell your distress.

It took everything in him to not pull over right now and reach over to comfort you. Pull you into his arms. Rub soothing circles on your back. But he knew that would do more harm than good. His touch wouldn’t be welcome. Yet. You weren’t ready.

And god, he wasn’t either. He wasn’t ready for any of this. But damn it, he was going to try.

Tag List is open!

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @thiquefunlover63 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stellar-solar-flare @crazyunsexycool @littlelearningbrat

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PSA for Switch owners

The latest 11.0 update means that Google Analytics is a thing on the switch and turned on. What that means is that Nintendo has a deal with Google to share with them your data for advertisement purposes.

To turn it off

go to the eShop

go to your profile where your funds and account info is

go down to the bottom of the page

there you will see “Google Analytics Preferences”

select the Change

select “Don’t Share”

Please spread the word. Really shitty of Nintendo to just quietly start allowing Google to spy on users for advertising.

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suck, and i cannot stress this enough, my cock to the fucking base

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100 Dialogue Tags You Can Use Instead of “Said”

For the writers struggling to rid themselves of the classic ‘said’. Some are repeated in different categories since they fit multiple ones (but those are counted once so it adds up to 100 new words). 

1. Neutral Tags 

Straightforward and unobtrusive dialogue tags: 

Added, Replied, Stated, Remarked, Responded, Observed, Acknowledged, Commented, Noted, Voiced, Expressed, Shared, Answered, Mentioned, Declared.

2. Questioning Tags 

Curious, interrogative dialogue tags:

Asked, Queried, Wondered, Probed, Inquired, Requested, Pondered, Demanded, Challenged, Interjected, Investigated, Countered, Snapped, Pleaded, Insisted.

3. Emotive Tags 

Emotional dialogue tags:

Exclaimed, Shouted, Sobbed, Whispered, Cried, Hissed, Gasped, Laughed, Screamed, Stammered, Wailed, Murmured, Snarled, Choked, Barked.

4. Descriptive Tags 

Insightful, tonal dialogue tags: 

Muttered, Mumbled, Yelled, Uttered, Roared, Bellowed, Drawled, Spoke, Shrieked, Boomed, Snapped, Groaned, Rasped, Purred, Croaked.

5. Action-Oriented Tags 

Movement-based dialogue tags: 

Announced, Admitted, Interrupted, Joked, Suggested, Offered, Explained, Repeated, Advised, Warned, Agreed, Confirmed, Ordered, Reassured, Stated.

6. Conflict Tags 

Argumentative, defiant dialogue tags:

Argued, Snapped, Retorted, Rebuked, Disputed, Objected, Contested, Barked, Protested, Countered, Growled, Scoffed, Sneered, Challenged, Huffed.

7. Agreement Tags 

Understanding, compliant dialogue tags: 

Agreed, Assented, Nodded, Confirmed, Replied, Conceded, Acknowledged, Accepted, Affirmed, Yielded, Supported, Echoed, Consented, Promised, Concurred.

8. Disagreement Tags 

Resistant, defiant dialogue tags: 

Denied, Disagreed, Refused, Argued, Contradicted, Insisted, Protested, Objected, Rejected, Declined, Countered, Challenged, Snubbed, Dismissed, Rebuked.

9. Confused Tags 

Hesitant, uncertain dialogue tags:

Stammered, Hesitated, Fumbled, Babbled, Mumbled, Faltered, Stumbled, Wondered, Pondered, Stuttered, Blurted, Doubted, Confessed, Vacillated.

10. Surprise Tags

Shock-inducing dialogue tags:

Gasped, Stunned, Exclaimed, Blurted, Wondered, Staggered, Marvelled, Breathed, Recoiled, Jumped, Yelped, Shrieked, Stammered.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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aaaaaaahhh this is perfect,, thank you so muchhhh <333333

hi, I'd like to send in an attic wife request, thanks so much for holding this event <3

my preferred petnames are kitten and baby

my dream job is to work in one of those pretty cafe library things

some facts about me are that I'm scared of pretty much every animal apart from cats and bunnies. I really love pastel colours and feminine aesthetics. also I'm decently curvy and a little insecure about the chub

the only characters I don't like are Lloyd hansen and Mr freezy

I also have a preference for soft dark please

whether or not my application gets accepted, thank you <33

Thanks for sending in an application. It’s been accepted. 💜

divider by saradika-graphics

The water runs over your shoulders. Your hands wiping droplets from your eyes. Feeling the slow slip of suds trailing down your legs as you rinse them away. You listen to the cascade of water on the shower floor, and hear the soft pad of footsteps.

Your eyes pop open. Jake on the other side of the foggy glass, his figure hazy. But one thing is clear, he’s naked.

“Can I come in, baby?”

Hands scrambling to cover your modesty, you don’t respond. Backing away from the door when it creaks open to let a few stray drops fall to the tile without. And to let Jake step in.

His smile falters, a hand reaching up to run through the blond tips of his hair. “Sorry, baby, I couldn’t wait—I know we’re working on boundaries. Come here,” he beckons, his arms opening wide to welcome you against his chest.

You hesitantly plaster yourself against his skin, compliant in his demand and wary of any perceived disobedience, as one of his hands reaches out to draw hearts in the steam on the glass.

Attic Wife Applications accepted through Dec. 31st

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squealing giggling kicking my feet omg I love thisss

Vulnerability Detected

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,381 Summary: You didn’t just want an AI Assistant, you wanted a real companion, someone to take care of you, to make you feel safe, to love you. Warnings: AU. AI!Robot!Andy. Soft!sweetheart!Reader who is anxious, touch starved, and socially isolates herself. Allusions to a past sexual assault. Lots of softness.

A/N: Next up in the Superior AI verse is AI!Andy, and my goodness, the way he and his sweet Reader have already stolen my heart! I so hope you enjoy this! ❤️

You tried your best to concentrate on your tablet, on answering the next question in the Superior AI Welcome Survey that you needed to complete in order to initiate the first update for your new AI Assistant.

Well, companion really was more accurate in your case.

And that thought alone had you squirming in your seat even more.

You were already hyper aware of the watchful gaze fixed on you, even if you couldn’t meet it for more than a split-second at a time.

He’d been standing there, a few feet away on the other side of the coffee table, for the past ten minutes or so as you perched on the edge of the sofa and tried to finish the Welcome Survey.

It was taking you much longer than you thought it would, mainly because you couldn’t really concentrate with the AI’s attention so avidly fixed on you.

Even if that’s what you had been hoping for when you built and then purchased him, just for you.

The idea of having a caretaker and companion had been something you had yearned for for a long time, but now that it was actually happening, it was much more overwhelming than you thought it would be.

Hence all of your squirming and poor ability to focus on the current task at hand.

“Am I making you nervous?” Andy’s voice was deep and quiet–calm incarnate–and it had a delighted shiver zipping up your spine as you peeked up at him from beneath your lashes. 

Gosh, he really was beautiful.

Andy Barber, your new AI companion. 

You had taken your time when you had customized him on the Superior AI website. You had gone into it with a handwritten list of all of the physical features, emotional attributes, and AI programming you most wanted for your new AI. 

And Andy fulfilled each and every one of them so far. 

He was tall and firmly built, his simple jeans and soft, navy blue sweater hinting at the toned body that lay beneath. His skin was fair and flawless, his eyes a bright, cerulean blue that you didn’t actually think existed until you saw him. His hair was dark brown and perfectly coiffed–so soft and floofy looking that your fingers itched to touch it–and his beard was neatly trimmed and emphasized the sharp cut of his jaw.

Andy murmured your name, interrupting your mindless ogling as he shifted closer and repeated his question, “Am I making you nervous?”

“N-no!” you answered quickly, dropping your gaze back to the tablet between your hands as your face heated with embarrassment. 

Suddenly, Andy was crouched before you, his gaze as concerned as it was earnest–so humanly so–as he watched you. “I’m here to take care of you, right?” 

You nodded, feeling too shy to squeak out an answer. 

“In order to be successful in doing so, I need you to be honest with me always, alright?”

Something about Andy’s genuine desire to take care of you, as well as his request for honesty–which was the foundation for a strong relationship–had your belly fluttering and your heart skipping a beat. 

“Alright,” you answered shakily, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Andy’s soft smile had another round of butterflies taking flight in your belly, especially when he hesitated for just a beat before touching a hand to your knee and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. So, am I making you nervous?”

“Yes,” you confessed, noting the approval in his gaze at your honest answer. “But only because we just met and some of these questions are really personal and overwhelming.”

“That’s very understandable,” Andy nodded, giving your knee another soft squeeze. “Thank you for being honest with me.” He watched you for a moment before his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, his eyes going distant before they blinked and refocused on you. “You enjoy tea?”

You blinked in confusion. “I do.”

“How about I go make you some?” Andy offered as he rose to his feet.

“Oh, that would be lovely,” you smiled. “I can show you where everything is—“

“No need, I am very capable of finding it on my own. Plus, it will take longer and you’ll have more time to concentrate on completing startup requirements and getting my programming updated to fulfill your every need.”

Oh boy, you thought as his last few words washed over you.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, squeaking out a soft, “Okay,” before staring down at your tablet.

“Good girl.”

It was a visceral reaction that you couldn’t control, nor were expecting–the way your breath hitched and the heat in your cheeks renewed–at the soft praise so readily and confidently offered to you by Andy.

Startled, and embarrassed, by your own reaction–and just how much you had liked those two words from Andy–you ducked your head lower, until your chin was tucked against the top of your chest, completely unaware of the knowing look that Andy shot your way before he turned on his heel and made his way into the kitchen and out of sight. 

Releasing a shaky breath, you refocused on the Welcome Survey, grateful that you could work on this section in particular–the Companion Preferences section–privately. You had already completed all of your preferences on cooking and food, cleaning, home security, personal care and wellness, and other day-to-day requests and activities. 

But the Companion Preferences really got into the meat of how you wanted your personal, intimate dynamic with Andy to be, and how…far you wanted his companionship to go.

You had known since before you even went on Superior AI’s website that you were seeking an AI for more than just general assistance. You wanted companionship, including sex. You wanted a relationship. You wanted to be taken care of and prioritized. You wanted to feel safe. 

You yearned for all of it so much that it brought tears to your eyes. 

And since you knew you wouldn’t be able to find what you were seeking in a human man, you built your own AI one to fulfill your needs.

Only now, you were actually going through and selecting all of the needs and preferences you wanted fulfilled, including sexual ones, and it was making you extremely anxious.

In addition to anxiety, you felt shame, too.

Because it was so sad and pathetic that you had to resort to this, seeking artificially crafted “love” and companionship.

Even if the quiet, fretful naysayer in the back of your mind whispered that wasn’t true. You weren’t sad. You were being smart. You were protecting yourself.

And after that night, with him… you shuddered at the thought, your stomach flipping unpleasantly and your heart hammering in your chest as the memories you kept trying so hard to forget, or at the very least, stuff down, down, down, resurfaced.

Blinking back tears, you refocused on the screen in your lap, reading the next question, which sure was timely given the thoughts that had just been whirling around your brain…

On a scale from 1-10, with 1 being ‘Consent not required’ and 10 being ‘Full consent always required,” choose your preference for sexual consent.

You clicked on 10, shuddering some more before you clicked over to the next question, which was one you had already answered in the initial pre-purchase customization. 

When it comes to physical touch, I give my AI Assistant permission to gauge my needs at any given moment and offer physical touches at their own discretion to aid in caretaking and connection.

You had originally selected, “Yes, I give my AI Assistant this permission,” but you read the other two options again now:

2. No, I do not give my AI Assistant this permission. They should always ask for this permission in the moment and as needed.  3. I do not want my AI Assistant to touch me at all.

Thinking back to the way Andy had comforted you a few moments ago, crouching down and so gently speaking to you as he touched your knee, you felt your tummy somersault all over again. 

That was exactly the kind of gentle connection and caretaking you were seeking. 

Nodding, you kept that answer as previously selected before moving on to the next question.

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavily, as you struggled to finish the final few pages of your book’s current chapter. 

When a yawn broke free, once again pulling your attention away from the words on the page, you sighed in defeat. 

Placing your bookmark between the pages, you set your book on the side table before glancing down the other end of the sofa. 

Andy sat there, reading his own book, even though you doubted that he garnered the same sort of joy that you did from reading for fun. 

Feeling your gaze on him, he glanced up and smiled at you. 

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” you murmured. 

“It is getting late,” Andy nodded, setting down his own book. He rose to his feet, watching as you uncurled yourself from the sofa and folded the throw blanket that had been covering you before draping it over the back of the nearby arm chair. 

You had changed into your pajamas hours ago, and you felt a little self-conscious of the cutesy flannel set now as you turned to find Andy eyeing you in soft amusement.

“Do you think I’m lame?” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

His frown was instant, as was the shake of his head. “No, I think you’re lovely.”

And oh, that had a foreign kind of warmth flooding through you. 

Twisting your fingers together before you, you glanced away, shaking your head at yourself. “Sorry,” you whispered, “Sometimes I just…blurt stuff like that without thinking.”

“There is no need to edit yourself for my benefit,” Andy assured you. “This is your home and your life, I am simply here to help you thrive. Please, be yourself to the fullest extent, it will only aid me in taking care of you and fulfilling your every need.”

“Right,” you hugged yourself, taking a shaky breath. 

It was overwhelming - how perfect Andy was.

And that he was yours.

“Should I go to the kitchen and enable my hibernation mode?” Andy asked. 

His question wasn’t surprising, as most folks kept their AI Assistants in the kitchen overnight, just like many other home appliances.

But, well, Andy wasn’t a home appliance to you. 

“Actually,” you struggled to meet his gaze as you shifted your weight. “Can you come upstairs with me and just…stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Andy’s head cocked ever so slightly, his operating system reviewing the data from your completed survey at lightning speed before concluding that you, his primary user, were vulnerable and needed to be protected and made to feel safe.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he spoke one of your preferred terms of endearment for the first time, noting how it made you squirm and shyly look away. “I would love to spend as much time with you as possible.”

“Thanks,” you whispered. 

Smiling, Andy stepped back and gestured toward the stairway just outside of the living room. “Lead the way.”

You scurried past him and up the stairs, murmuring that you were just going to clean up before you darted into your connected ensuite and shut the door. 

Once you emerged a few minutes later, ready for bed, it was to find Andy dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, his feet bare as he sat on the edge of the bed furthest from your own side.

“You changed,” you observed dumbly, blinking at him in surprise.

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a half-smile. “I thought it would make you more comfortable if I wore pajamas, too.”

“Oh, that’s so…thoughtful,” you hummed, again feeling a happy kind of fluttery warmth invade your body. 

“Let’s get you tucked in, hmm?” Andy murmured, gesturing you to your side of the bed. “I’ve enabled the new home security system I installed earlier, and I’ve lowered the temperature to 68 degrees for optimal sleeping conditions.”

“Thank you, Andy,” you said, and, on a whim, you darted forward and hugged him.

He didn’t miss a beat, instantly returning your embrace. His hands were big and warm as they gently caressed your back, and you felt your insides clench when he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head before murmuring, “You’re very welcome, honey. I’m happy to take care of you like you deserve.”

“You’re so warm,” you marveled aloud once you slowly pulled away from him. 

“I’ve set my operating temperature to mirror your own at 98.3 degrees. If you ever want me to adjust it, please let me know.”

“No, it’s perfect, you just…feel so real,” you whispered, staring at him. And then it was like your hand had a mind of its own as it reached out and touched his chest, until your palm lay flat against the soft material of his t-shirt. “You have a heartbeat, too?”

Andy nodded, his eyes soft as he watched you. “Would it comfort you to listen to it as you fall asleep?”

Feeling the sudden urge to cry, but not in a bad way, you just nodded, not resisting as Andy led you to your bed. He didn’t seem hesitant at all as he settled himself beneath the covers before holding his hand out to you as you hovered beside the bed.

“C’mere, sweetheart.”

As if you were the one made to take his directive, you crawled into bed beside him, nerves rising up for a split second before Andy was gently urging you against him. Once your cheek pressed against his chest, his artificial heartbeat that sounded so real softly filled your ear, and you felt your body begin to relax.

It was like the exhaustion from the day finally caught up to you then, your form going more and more pliant as your eyes grew heavy and you clung to Andy just a little bit tighter. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you murmured sleepily as your eyes blinked shut and stayed that way.

And when Andy gently smoothed a hand over your head, murmuring back, “So am I, sweetheart,” you were already fast asleep.

Eeeep! I love them so much. This Reader makes me so soft. Please take a moment to let me know your thoughts on this part! Thank you so much! 

—

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. I also do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI platforms. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️

[1-800-ari]

oh shoot, I guess I'm done for 😭😭

hi, thank you for the babe lottery! in dire need of a man to sweep me off my feet away from my problems forever, so I'd like to request Andy please, if possible. thanks again <3

✨✨✨

This was pure despair. You walking into that fancy law firm, moving among the elegant dressed professionals who earned more than your family could ever dream of.

As you finally reached the door of Andy Barber's office, the intern who led you there gave you one more condescending look before striding away to tasks he deemed more worthy of his attention.

You knocked on the door and hesitantly walked inside.

Andy Barber didn't look intimidating. He had a handsome face, softened by fluffy dark hair and beard, and a gentle gleam in his eyes.

But it was only his looks. You heard he was a beast in the court, rarely losing a case.

There was no way he would lose a case when it was his son's word against that of your brother. The only option was to prevent it from making to court in the first place.

Your mom tried talking with Mrs Barber, but it was a disaster. Mom simply said she wouldn't budge, but you never saw your mother so shaken. You never met Laurie Barber, but that woman had to be evil incarnate to leave your mom nearly broken in defeat.

"How can I help you?" Andy asked, motioning for you to come closer.

When you introduced yourself, his face fell.

No rage appeared, fortunately. Rather worry and a flicker of... regret?

"Please, Mister Barber." After making it obvious what led you to his office, you pleaded for your little brother's sake.

You wanted to say that Jacob lied, that he was framing your brother in retaliation for school rivalry. There was something off about Jacob, but that comment you kept to yourself.

Your family couldn't afford a decent lawyer to even hope of defending your brother. Your father worked two jobs and you had a part-time one as well, just so you could afford local college.

"I would drop the whole thing, but unfortunately my wife is adamant on blowing it all out of proportion." Andy sounded frustrated, hints of anger at his own wife reverberated.

But he wouldn't fight Laurie about it. Placating her would mean his peace at home, your brother didn't count. He was a faraway thought.

Tears shone in your eyes and he cursed under his breath.

Andy pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily. Then, suddenly, his head snapped up and his eyes bore into yours for a long moment.

"I think there is something we could do about it." He unexpectedly revealed and your hope reignited.

With hands clasped on your chest, you watched him stride over to the door to lock it. He closed the blinds, too.

Fear skittered under your skin as you realized you were locked in his office with a man almost twice your age. A man of power and strength greater than yours.

You were ready to do anything for your little brother, but you didn't want to do that.

You wondered, if you screamed for help, would any of the cold-hearted lawyers outside come to your help. Or would they all vouch for Andy? You definitely didn't have the chance to win in court.

But Andy moved back to his desk and picked up his phone. He didn't put it to his ear, but instead put it on speaker so that you could hear the whole conversation.

"What is it?" A deep male voice on the other side sounded irked.

"Hello to you too, Rogers." Andy rolled his eyes. "Do you remember that you owe me?"

"I don't owe you shit."

"How about me owing you?" Andy offered and you realized he purposely led the conversation that way.

"I'm listening." The man on the other side said after a pause.

"I want you to take a case, pro bono."

"What fucking kind of case?" Rogers asked, suspicious.

"Against me." Andy sighed.

There was a very long pause. And then the man's laughter resounded, sounding both wonderful and scary as hell.

"Send me the details via your private mail. And send to my office that poor lamb you want me to save from your nasty jaws."

[1-800-ari]

I haven't read the whole series yet, and I've got a packed day, but I'm def coming back,, you're an amazing writer and I'd be missing out if I didn't

Hold You Tight: Part 13

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 12 | Series Masterlist | Part 14

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You're on edge, but try to enjoy the day of freedom that Bucky promised you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

For his part, Bucky behaved once you were back in the shop. He waited patiently while you tried on a couple of the dresses and didn't attempt to go back into the dressing room or force you to come out and model them. You were thankful for that since there wasn't anything to jam under the doorknob and you didn’t need him to corner you again. Who knew how much he’d push the envelope the next time.

Before you went to the counter, you grabbed a cardigan from a rack. “This, too, please” you said, handing it to the associate. It would be nice to have in case you got cold at the vineyard.

“Of course,” she smiled, ringing it up with the other garments and accessories selected.

Bucky eyed the cardigan with a small smile. “That looks warm and comfortable,” he commented, sliding a card across the counter. “I should’ve remembered that,” he said almost to himself.

“Well, part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff,” you said, careful to leave the bite out of your voice.

“And part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver,” he said, kissing your temple. “I was trying to surprise you by having stuff you liked ready,” he added in a smaller voice.

You didn’t miss the glance from the associate, making you feel as small as Bucky’s voice sounded. Of course, he made himself look like a doting boyfriend and your comment made you sound ungrateful. “It was a really nice gesture and I loved the dresses selected. Thank you,” you said. He showed that he knew and liked your taste like a caring partner would do. “But maybe during the next shopping trip I can go through and pick everything out myself?” It would give you some sort of autonomy.

“Sure,” he smiled, likely happy at the prospect of there being a next time.

You mumbled a thank you to the associate before Bucky carried everything out of the store, not at all ashamed to carry stuff for his girl. Another doting boyfriend gesture. He even refused to let Ray take the garments from him when he held the door open. Nor did he let his bodyguard help you into the car.

“I didn’t spoil you as much as I wanted to, but it’s a start,” he smiled once you both got settled in.

“Yeah, it is,” you said. In your eyes, he spoiled you plenty. “I really do appreciate it. I’m not used to someone wanting to spoil me.”

Past boyfriends didn't care enough to do nice things like that. The last girl Bucky dated tried to steal from him, but did she demand shopping trips? Maybe he was simply happy to spend his money beyond you being his girl because you didn't expect or ask him to.

“You deserve it,” he said, sighing as he raked a hand through his hair. “I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow.”

You glanced at him and noted the droop in his shoulders. He may have dismissed your feelings from time to time, but it wouldn't help you to dismiss his when you were stuck in a vehicle with him. “I know it'll be tough, but it’s one day and you do have a photo of me to look at if you’ll miss me.” Who knew what else he had since your place was bugged.

“I do. I’ll probably look at it all day between work and other stuff,” he smiled, tilting his head toward you. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Depends on the favor,” you replied. God, did he want you to send him an explicit photo of you or something?

He made sure he was looking you in the eye. “Don’t run tomorrow. Don't leave the city,” he stated.

You blinked. The man wasn’t psychic, so how could he possibly know you thought of doing that very thing? At least, to get out of the city earlier than the girls trip. Was your poker face that terrible? “You think I’ll run?”

“I think part of you wants to try. Not even because you want freedom, but because you want to rebel against me and take back some control,” he replied. For his part, he didn’t sound upset. “But I think you and I both know you either won’t get far or you won’t end up running at all.”

You opened and shut your mouth. You wanted to. God knows you wanted to get far away. “Do you think I’m a coward if I don’t try?” You weren’t sure why his opinion on the situation mattered since he was the cause of it all.

“I think you’re one of the furthest things from a coward. Given the circumstances, you’ve been extremely brave,” he said. You didn't feel brave, but it was kind of nice to hear. “But one other favor? Don’t tear your place apart looking for the bugs either.”

You practically threw your arms up in the air, his compliment of you forgotten. The man was beyond exasperating. “Oh, come on! You’re giving me the day to myself, but I still have to stay in the city and I can’t get rid of the bugs?” You smacked his chest before you could stop yourself. “Your compromises suck, do you know that?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Did you… did you just say my compromises suck?” He threw his head back, his laughter filling the car. “Your insults are just as adorable as you are.”

“Yes, that’s what I said and my insults aren’t adorable,” you said, your face hot when he kept chuckling. “And I swear if you find some sort of loophole to see me tomorrow, I will go to your penthouse and throw out all of your expensive suits for being a liar.”

That cut his laughter short, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now we both know you’d donate my clothes before throwing them out. At least make your threat credible.”

“I… Okay, no, I wouldn't throw them away,” you said, smacking his chest once more when he looked like he’d laugh again. “But you may be onto something with donating. Maybe I'll donate your first editions to someone, too.”

“You wouldn't.” He tapped the tip of your nose, sending more fire through your veins. “You’re not the vengeful type.”

Grabbing his wrist before he could pull away, you lightly bit his finger and drew a sharp gasp from him. “I might just surprise us both.”

Heat crept up your neck at the look in his eyes. “I have no doubt about that,” he whispered, holding the back of your head and closing the gap between you.

His lips were persistent against yours, but still soft. So was his tongue invading your mouth. You put a hand against his chest as he pushed further into your space, but he was an immovable wall. You should've known he’d take your action as foreplay. He would twist anything and everything you did in his favor.

His scruff tickled your cheek as you turned your head away to breathe, but the intake of air didn't slow your heart. “Did you know I’ve dreamt of moments like this with you?” His hand cupped your breast through your top as you shuddered. You were trapped once again, just like in the shop. “You riled up or flustered and you making me laugh? Just… little moments.”

“No,” you whispered, his thumb brushing your nipple until it hardened. Touching you, having you, yes, you knew he dreamt of those things. You knew he wanted a connection. Hearing how much he craved the little things made your head spin, too.

“Well, I have.” Before you could tell him to stop, his hand fell away. “I won’t bother you tomorrow,” he whispered, brushing his hair back and settling once again in his seat. “As much as I want to see you, I won't.”

You smoothed out your top and got comfortable again, too. The underlying tension didn't cease when he took your hand and you didn't flinch or pull away. He wouldn't try anything else. Not tonight. You just knew.

“Try not to run tomorrow, okay?” he asked.

You looked out the window and caught him looking at you in the glass, the semi distorted image an accurate description of your relationship. You knew it was off, that he was off. No one else would see it that way or just didn’t care.

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

Whether it was cowardly to not try or stupidly brave to stay, you might just have to stay put.

You didn't say much for the remainder of the car ride. Bucky brought up the double date again with Steve and you didn't argue when he suggested a couple of places. Maybe you could figure out what Steve was doing to this girl and you could help each other out. At the very least, it would be nice to have a new friend who might understand a bit of what you were going through.

It was fucked up way to think.

Bucky managed to balance the books he purchased for you earlier that day as well as the clothes once Ray parked the car. “I can carry something,” you offered.

“I've got it, but thanks,” he said, refusing to let Ray help either. “And this way, I'll keep my hands to myself,” he added with a smirk.

You bristled, but recovered quickly. “I hope you have a good evening, Ray.”

He gave you a nod and what looked like a hint of a smile. “You as well.”

You were a bundle of nerves as you went into your building. You were close to having time to yourself, but Bucky was still going up to your apartment since he insisted on carrying everything. The elevator ride up was comfortably silent, but you saw the tension in his body once you got to your floor. He really didn’t want to let you go for a day.

“Thank you again for the books and the clothes,” you said, getting your keys out as he followed closely. He was practically breathing down your neck. “You can just leave everything in the entryway.”

He hummed, stepping inside once you unlocked the door. “You don’t want me in your bedroom?” he guessed.

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” you said. Between kissing you in the shop and his car, you wouldn’t risk it.

He carefully set the books and garments down before he turned to you. In an instant, your back was against the wall and the sound you made muffled by his mouth. He moaned against your lips when you didn’t turn your head away, but you shoved his chest to get him away. You really thought he wouldn’t push anymore tonight. He promised. He…

He stopped.

He pulled back, his breathing ragged and a glazed look in his eyes. “I’m not a monster. I’m not,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. You braced yourself against the wall as he turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. “I’ve just never wanted or needed anyone like you. I’m… I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” you whispered. And he wanted you to want and need him, too.

He smiled sadly and you almost reached out to soothe him, but you refrained. “Enjoy your day tomorrow,” he said.

The door shut before you could respond, leaving you in the silence of your apartment. A minute or two passed before you went to your room. Uncaring of the bugs around your place, you began to pack a few things in a tote bag with tears in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave tonight, but you’d be prepared if you wanted to go tomorrow. Who were you kidding, would you leave at all?

You blinked the tears away when you caught the photo of you and your friends on the dresser. It was foolish to think of escaping if it meant risking something happening to your loved ones. Addison and Brady. Dana. Your other friends. Mrs. Crandle. In the end, you would have to stay for them. Your life for their safety and continued happiness.

A small price to pay.

Curling up on your bed next to the bag, you whispered, “Once again, you win.”

Would luck ever be on your side when it came to him?

There were no texts from Bucky when you woke up the next morning. It felt… oddly quiet, but you weren’t sure if that was a relief or something you didn’t want to think about. Nothing was out of place in your apartment, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched thanks to the bugs. There were no gifts outside of your door. No breakfast. Just the quiet of your own thoughts as you went about your morning routine.

You smiled as you left the apartment, but it felt different today. Somehow lighter. It was as though normalcy wasn’t a burden, but a chance to breathe, to exist without your new “boyfriend” pulling the strings. The crisp morning air felt welcoming, and the walk to your favorite cafe was like a promise that today you could simply enjoy the time you had. The rich scents of coffee and pastries greeted you like an old friend, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of something close to peace.

“Most important meal of the day.”

You tried to push Bucky and his haunting blue eyes from your thoughts, but his absence lingered like a shadow you couldn’t chase away. He still followed you. Today wasn’t a day for lingering on what could happen tomorrow. Today was about you and small steps, about finding comfort in simple moments, and allowing yourself to breathe without the weight of uncertainty. And kindness to a stranger seemed like a good place to start.

“I’d like to pay for the person behind me,” you said.

"Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that," the woman said, her surprise softening into a genuine smile. Something in her tone felt warm, like the simple exchange was more than just about paying for her coffee and pastry. It felt like a shared understanding, a reminder that kindness still mattered, and that it could still find its place in a world that often felt too heavy.

You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I wanted to,” you said, taking your to-go bag. You were still capable of offering kindness and still held the belief that it could make a difference, even in small ways. “Have a great day.”

The next stop was the flower shop once you finished your treat. You carefully selected a variety of flowers so you could make a nice arrangement at home. You were far from sad, but it would brighten up your mood more. Working with flowers always gave you a burst of happiness.

Once you were back at your apartment, with no one waiting for you, you got to work. Humming, you cut and prepped the flowers and selected a wide, simple vase. Once you had the grid of tape on, you added the greenery, focal flowers, and filler flowers. You loved the balance and harmony it presented once finished. It was also beautiful.

You snapped a photo of the colorful arrangement and sent it to the girl group chat. “What do we think?”

Addison was the first to respond. “Gorgeous! Seriously, how do you do that? I can’t wait to see what you do for my wedding!”

Dana responded next. “Why are you not running your own shop? Mrs. Crandle is sweet, but you should be in charge.”

You giggled when Gina asked, “Can you please tell me how to keep flowers alive? I’m hopeless.” with just about everyone reacting with a finger pointing up.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked.”

You hugged your phone to your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind. The praise from your friends was warm and you felt seen, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeking validation. Did you need them to remind you that you were good at something? Or was it just that you didn’t want to feel invisible, even in this small corner of your world?

“Love you ladies. Can’t wait for Saturday.”

It was true. You loved them and always would. With the thought of the upcoming weekend and enjoying the time together, your doubt was silenced.

There were still no texts from Bucky as you wrapped up the morning. Things felt normal. It was almost too normal. You felt like you were still holding your breath and looking over your shoulder when you left your place again to head to the bookstore, expecting Bucky to block your path or suddenly show up.

It was silly to visit the bookstore considering you were just there and Bucky bought you a bunch of books. Like the cafe, it was another sense of comfort. You even spotted a new book you previously overlooked. It was a perfect novel to add to your collection.

“Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”

Had Bucky carved out a place for himself so deep in your core that everything went back to him? Was this how he went about his day? Did he see something or do something and his mind just went to you? How did one function when someone else constantly invaded their thoughts?

“Hi. Is Marc working today?” you asked once you were at the counter. You wanted to see with your own eyes that he was okay.

“No, he isn’t, but he’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, stopping the associate before she bagged the book. Maybe you could find an excuse to go back or call to talk to him. “I’ll just put that in my bag, thanks.”

The weather had warmed up enough that you could go to the park with your new book in hand. Grabbing a seat on an empty bench, you took a moment to appreciate the landscape. It was one of the brightest spots in the city. You sometimes pictured having a picnic date there, looking up at the sky and seeing what shapes the clouds made.

“One day,” you smiled to yourself, getting started on your book.

You were only about one chapter in when a man’s voice jolted you from the pages. “Excuse me, miss. Is this seat available?” You glanced up to find a tall man in a turtleneck and long trench coat standing over you with a charming smile. Was he wearing purple gloves? “My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded to the empty spot. “Feel free.”

“Thank you.” He sat down, his eyes on you as you tried to go back to your book. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

“It is,” you agreed, turning a page in the hopes he’d get the hint. You didn’t want to be rude by not conversing, but you were trying to read.

“And it’s nice to finally meet the lady who has James Buchanan Barnes so enamored.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, turning to face him. He had a knowing smile on his face, like he knew you were either afraid or worried. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“I don't believe you do. How rude of me to assume.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Helmut Zemo. James and I work together on occasion.”

“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, but didn't let it linger. Something about him put you on edge, a different sort of edge than Bucky. “I don't hear many people call him James.”

“He’s not particularly fond of it. He much prefers for people to call him Bucky.”

That said something about their relationship if the man didn't respect Bucky’s preferred name. “Okay, Mr. Zemo. Is there something I can help you with?” You couldn't imagine Bucky sending this man to speak to you. “And, I’m sorry, how did you know where to find me?”

He shrugged a bit. “I may have bribed someone or two. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

Your stomach plummeted. What was wrong with these men? “You sound like Bucky,” you muttered. No wonder they worked together sometimes, if he was telling the truth. “And if you’re bribing people just to get close to me, I think I have the right to know exactly who you spoke to.”

“As I said, it’s nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

You looked around. There were others at the park, but no one paid any attention to you. What would happen if you screamed? “What do you want from me?” you asked. Was this one of the things Bucky meant when he said it wasn’t safe for you?

He held his hands up. “I mean you no harm. I just wanted to see you face-to-face since I didn't receive an invitation from James to meet you at his club. I’m sure it… slipped his mind,” he said with a bitter smile that had you shifting away from him. “I must say, you don't strike me as the type to fall for a murderer.”

You swallowed a little. “A murderer?” Bucky had referred to himself as a monster who hurt and killed.

“Oh, yes. The blood of many stains his hands, don't you know. Alexander Pierce. Brock Rumlow. Jasper Sitwell. Howard Stark,” he ticked off names like he was listing ingredients for a recipe. “He even killed-”

“I think your time’s up.”

Both of you looked behind you to find Ray standing feet away. It was one of the first times you ever saw the stoic man look angry. “Ray?”

“Ah, Raymond!” Zemo smiled, pushing himself up from the bench. He didn’t look at all intimidated by Bucky’s bodyguard. “I was wondering which one of you would show up. Good to see you still have work.”

Ray blinked twice. “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ll hear from my boss very soon,” he said, walking around the bench to put space between you and the virtual stranger. “For now, you should go back to your side of the city and leave her be.”

“We were only talking.” Zemo held his hands up again. “You don't think I'd pose a threat to the property of James Barnes, do you?”

“I’m no one’s property. I'm a person,” you seethed, holding your head high. You were tired of everyone around you thinking of you as an object. “And I agree with Ray. You need to go. Now.”

“Such unexpected fire,” Zemo smiled, making your skin crawl. “I didn't mean to upset or offend you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. “Walk away and don't look back at her,” he ordered.

Zemo glared at Ray, but walked away without another word, his jacket flowing in the light breeze.

You breathed properly again as Ray took a seat next to you. “Are you okay?” He shifted toward you when you nodded. “I’m so sorry he bothered you. He was supposed to be out of town.”

“Who is he? How did he know where to find me?” You narrowed your eyes at Ray and he didn't flinch under your gaze. Much scarier people stared him down. “And how did you know where to find me?”

“Zemo works with Bucky from time to time. He has his own club blocks away, Echo Scorpion. Lots of money and resources and far from being Bucky’s friend,” he explained, blinking twice again. “Boss wanted to make extra sure you were safe and he thought I was the best for the job.”

“What?” you asked over a whisper. Bucky and his fucking loopholes. “Have you been following me all day?”

“Yes,” he answered.

You slowly breathed in and out to remain calm about the fact that Bucky stayed away, but still had you followed. It didn’t calm you down. You were upset. So upset that you let out a shout of frustration loud enough that a few people looked your way, but no one stopped to check and make sure you were okay. Maybe they thought you were crazy. Maybe you were at this point.

Ray didn’t look at all surprised by your outburst. “Not to defend my boss, but he is keeping his promise by not contacting you himself if that is any consolation.”

“He still sent you, Ray. He can say all he wants that it’s for my safety and maybe it is, but it’s still a control freak move and he’s probably demanding that you give him every detail about my day,” you argued, shoving your book into your bag. “And today was going so well.”

“It still can.”

“You’re still going to follow me though.” With Zemo showing up, maybe it was for the best that Ray showed up. “That Zemo guy. Is he going to hurt me?”

“No,” Ray said with certainty. Zemo still wanted something though. Maybe he wanted to get under Bucky’s skin since he wasn't asked to meet you. “He knows that would start a war of sorts. Try not to worry about him. We’ll deal with him.”

“Start a war? You’ll deal with him? You speak so casually about violence because I assume it’s violence that’s intended,” you said as Ray looked in his lap. “He said Bucky is a murderer and he listed names. He killed those people, didn’t he?” you pressed, shuddering a bit when Ray didn’t deny it. God, he really was a killer. Why? For his own gain? “I need to sit down,” you said when your vision began to blur.

“You are sitting down,” he gently pointed out, scooting over and tenderly placing a hand on the back of your head. “Deep breaths. Put your head between your knees. It’ll help.”

You bent over, taking a few deep breaths like he instructed. “You said I can do this, but I don't know if I can, Ray. I’m not brave,” you said in a small voice.

Bucky didn't have anything to fear. He was a king who ruled his city and decided what to do with the peasants. You didn’t ask for him to entangle you in anything of his, the peasant that you were. You just wanted to survive at this point.

Ray surprised you by rubbing your back, your head starting to feel normal again. “Yes, you are. You just don't believe it because you’re not in your element,” he said, helping you sit up properly again after a minute. You did feel a bit better. “Try not to think about this and enjoy the rest of your day. You owe it to yourself to have some peace and relaxation.”

Glancing at your tote bag, you had to agree. You did owe it to yourself to have a bit of peace and relaxation. “Bucky asked me not to run or look for the bugs, but I can’t have complete peace today if I go back to my place for the night,” you said, glancing at the blonde beside you. “Is there anywhere I can stay where he won’t have direct eyes on me?”

Up until Zemo showed up, it was a normal day. A good day. You wanted that to continue.

Ray thought it over. “There’s a hotel not far from here, The Red Room. We can get you a suite for the night. I will warn you before you ask, the manager has worked with Bucky before.” He stopped you before you could get up and leave. “But she won’t breathe a word to him about anything you do. Her staff is very discreet.”

You weren’t sure whether to believe him or not. At the end of the day, he worked with Bucky and his loyalty remained with him. “Why The Red Room and not just another hotel?”

“Because it’s safe there,” he said.

You sighed and slowly got to your feet. It wasn’t getting away, but it was a small win and something told you to trust Ray. “Before we go, is Bucky doing okay today?” Part of you was curious.

Ray shook his head. “He’s in a mood and he misses you,” he replied. You pushed the guilt away. Bucky had to learn to handle time apart. “Shall we go? Are you okay to walk?”

“I’m fine. Just lead the way,” you answered.

Spending time in a hotel suite would relax you. It would give you time to read your book. And it wasn't like Bucky would show up and ambush you.

Right?

And Zemo has entered the picture. What will Bucky do when he finds out he made contact with his girl? Is Ray really looking out for you? Will anything happen at the hotel or will our girl get the rest she more than deserves? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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