#god that just reminds me i really need a new shelf: my Book book shelf is already full

[xxplastic-cubexx]

charles saying a total of Four Words and storm immediately assuming he's gonna read travis' mind has me in stitches im ngl

[Storm (2023) #2: "Punked"]

[thecameronchronicles]

Bad Girls Go To Mister Cameron

TW: age gap (reader is above eighteen). Smut. Language. Praise kink. Cheating. 

SUMMARY: Ward's punishment for your bratty behavior has you coming undone...

WORD COUNT: 1500

REQUESTED

hey so I wasn’t sure if you took requests this isn’t really one unless you say you do! Are you able to write some more ward Cameron smut?? S3 him was the bomb 🤤

Bad Girls Go to Mister Cameron

His eyes were always focused on you. Beneath his shades. Across any dinner you were invited to. But he always did so to where his daughter or wife didn't notice the way his gaze descended on you. The way you smirked when feeling him focus on you. The way you wore a bikini in his favorite color to torture him for keeping your trysts so far apart. But this was a new testament as he adored Rose as if you were nothing more than Sarah's friend she met at college last year. And you decided it was time for revenge. Too many times you behaved all to be a lady in waiting. But you were far from helpless and you would remind him of such things…

"Rafe? Can you help me?" 

"Y-yeah..." You offered the suntan lotion as he lathered up your skin as you rolled and moaned against his touch. An obvious erection against you as you turned over your shoulder. 

"That feels good..." 

"Yeah?" He asked with a scoff. 

"You know how to use it?" You questioned as he nodded, your fingers interlaced with his before you led him into his father's shed. It was the first place you shared a moment with his father and it would be that much sweeter to taint it with this new touch. 

Rafe followed behind you, kissing you slowly before immediately pawing your breast. Cursing at how you fit perfectly in his hand, you noticed the shift at the window beside you. As expected, Ward was there. Peering. 

"I want your mouth on me..." 

Rafe lifted you onto the counter, untying the bottoms of your suit and tossing the wet fabric to the floor. 

"Shit...all for me?" Even if you answered for him, your eyes met with Ward. 

"All for you." You spoke slowly, mouth pulled wide to Rafe's tongue as you didn't have to force the pleasure he created within you. For a moment, you forgot your motivations as he reached for your nipple. Twisting and pulling as you moaned. 

"You make me wanna come..."

"Then come..." He breathed between laps as you rode into his tongue, a smirk felt every so often as you ran fingers through his new buzzed hair. 

"I'm gonna-"

"Rafe!" Ward's voice acted distant. "I need you to finish the burgers." 

"You have to be joking-" he groaned. "This is bullshit..." He rose to his feet before you took hold of his arms. 

"I'll ride you if you stay..." 

"Get the fuck over here..." He worked his trunks and positioned you into a straddle before he was called again. 

"Come on, son-"

"I'm trying..." You chuckled. 

"Just give me ten minutes?"

"Rafe..."

"I'll make you come three times at least...please...just...shit...I don't want to deal with hearing about it-"

"Five minutes and I start without you...." He groaned, turning back as your fingers teased your clit. 

"Three but don't come unless I'm watching." You nodded as he shared a conversation with his father before you were now alone with him. 

"My office. Now." 

You bit your bottom lip. This was what you had been waiting for...

The door closed behind you as you feigned interest in the books on the shelf across from him. 

"I don't like when you act like that..."

"How is it any different than you with your wife?"

"We've talked about this..."

"Rafe's hot...and he can keep up with me...oh my God...and his mouth-" Suddenly Ward was in front of you. 

"You stay away from my son if you know what's good for you. Trust me."

"Why? He felt so good. Makes me want to come now even thinking about it..." This seemed to give Ward an epiphany. 

"Sit." You obeyed, basking in this game. 

"Show me." You were dripping with need, parting your legs for him and retired to this forbidden space stained from prior rendezvous. 

"Wider." You obliged as he sat between your legs as your soles rested on the coffee table supporting him. 

"You shouldn't be able to feel good right now...but I'm so fucking hard, I have to hear you moan for me..."

"But mister Cameron..." You whined. "I'm not doing it for you...I want Rafe to hear me...he's the one who lets me touch him...bet he'd have fucked me in the pool if I asked him-"

"Stop-" he took your hand. 

"Come here." He forced you to your knees. "Give me a reason to keep from punishing you..." To this, you unzipped his shorts and removed his belt. 

"You see that, sweetheart? I've behaved myself all week...so you're going to take care of me...Be a good girl." Your eyes rolled in pleasure as you took him slow but deep, exactly as he liked it. It took only a second before he breathed your name as you found your pace. His hand gripping your hair and leading you as he saw fit as you simply opened your mouth and let him glide against your tongue. Hollow cheeks suctioning him to his edge. 

"You wanted to ride a Cameron cock?" You nodded. "You only ride mine." You were suddenly taken over his lap and thrust into. 

"You make one fucking sound and you get left here tied so you can't make anymore messes down your thighs...those messes are for me." He took hold of the back of your neck. "Say it so I know you heard me."

"You."

"You what?" 

"You, mister Cameron!"

"Good girl. Now earn my forgiveness, sweetheart. Make me come..." He set himself into a recline for observation as you took him hard. His cock stretched you wide as your breasts were erratic and unbridled. He hated this. He gripped the fabric over your breast before tearing it apart, your nipples teased by his teeth. 

"You want to moan?" You nodded as he wrapped a hand over your mouth. 

"Scream as loud as you want while you can..." You clutched onto his hand and screamed his name and your pleas. 

Harder. Faster. I'm gonna come. 

Suddenly he stilled. 

"Don't move. You rub that little clit and I wanna feel you come over my cock...right now...show me you can listen and be a good girl..." You began rubbing that sensitive bud. 

"Faster." 

"Ah!!!" You moaned behind a clenched jaw as he toyed with your nipples. Pulling and stretching them. 

"You are such a little brat, but I will teach you your lesson..." 

"I'm..."

"I know, I can feel you fucking pulsing...let me have it..." Your body unleashed over him as he gripped harshly into your hips. 

"If I could have it my way, I'd have my fingers inside of you at every fucking meal, licking you off of me after you come…"

"Yes..."

"Next time you want to play a game with me...you won't come...do you understand?" You nodded. " But because you've been such a good girl...I'll let you."

"Thank you "

"Such nice manners." He kissed your lips as you finished shattering for him. 

"Now make me come...I want you dripping in my pool..." Your eyes rolled as your nails dug into the couch behind him. You rode him to his edge, an almost annoying stamina, before you called out desperately in his name. 

"Twice? Still don't think I can keep up?" He taunted. 

"Fuck!" 

"Dirty girl..." 

"Yours." You validated as he spilled himself into you, a final rocking of your hips doing him over as he lifted you off of him. 

"Don't even think about showering until later. I want you dripping with me all day." He winked as you moved from the office, stilling in place. 

"Didn't peg you for a sugar baby..." JJ's voice startled you. 

"I-" 

"You wouldn't want Sarah to find out now...would we?" He asked, nursing his bulge as your mouth watered at the sight. 

"What do you want?"

"What I've been missing..." You nodded as he led you to another empty room. Your body vibrated as you moved into your knees. 

"Cutting right to the-fuck..." He moaned. 

"Oh shit!" He didn't even have to guide you as you took him expertly. The little tricks you learned with Ward now bleeding over into JJ.

"Touch yourself....I wanna feel you moan while you're-yessss..." He shuddered as you obeyed. 

"You're making me love being on this side of the island, princess..."

"JJ?" You asked, looking up at him to find Ward in your peripheral vision. 

"Fuck me?"

The look on Ward's eyes was enough to warrant a grin across your lips. This was your way of making him pay for his empty promises. Leaving Rose. Being with you. And you wouldn't let him forget that as long as he was married, you were free to do whatever, and whoever you wanted. And you could definitely do much worse than JJ...

TAGLIST:

@rafesmoon @maybankslover @puzziepoppin @gillybear17 @onclouds999

@penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @jjmaybanksangell @phildunphyisadilf  @belcalis9503 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection @jjsprettybaby@puzziepoppin 

MASTERLIST

WARD CAMERON MASTERLIST

[infiniteeight8]

(on anon because this song ref is going to date me horribly, but) the more I read your IronStrange ficlets, the more I'm reminded of the 2000s song "Crazy for this Girl" by Evan and Jaron. I'm not sure if this is meant to be a "look at these lyrics and see if they inspire you" prompt or just a compliment overall of how consistent your characterizations are, but thank you for so many amazing glimpses into their many (many, many, many) relationship moments.

Thanks so much! I have a lot of fun writing these two, and I’m glad my take on them rings true. 😀

Those lyrics really do scream IronStrange, don’t they? And really, I could see it going either way. Maybe it’s a bit more Stephen coded, what with the 14 million futures and him falling for Tony first, but my muse is in the contrary place today (still?), so here’s a bit with Tony as the ‘narrator’. Er, inspired by the song, but it seems I did wander off on a bit of a tangent, so not too closely. lol. 

-

Tony sits on one of the desks in the library and watches, smiling, as Stephen searches through the volumes for the book he needs. “The analogy that compares ley lines and magical concentrations to rivers and lakes is even more apt that I realized,” he says as he flips through a book. “It turns out that they change position over the years. Usually very slowly, but as with water, it’s also possible for abrupt events—the magical equivalent of floods or earthquakes—to carve new channels. Which made me wonder,” he puts the book back on the shelf and goes looking for another one, “could they be moved artificially? After all, we can redirect watercourses.”

“More or less,” Tony puts in, as much to see Stephen’s reaction as because it’s true. “Some rivers are more amenable to redirection than others.” 

Stephen lights up. “An excellent point. I suspect ley lines are similar in that way, too.” His expression goes abruptly thoughtful. “I wonder if the similarities indicate a connection between the water and magic… Where is that map?”

Is this what he’s like when he’s on a research binge, Tony wonders. Almost glowing with energy, passion radiating off every inch of him? It can’t be—his research binges used to drive Pepper and Rhodey nuts. Stephen is just amazing. It almost makes Tony want to learn magic, just so he can dive in there with him.

Stephen makes a triumphant noise and brings the book out to the table next to Tony. There’s already a map spread out there, but now Stephen carefully unfolds a second. He grunts, dissatisfied, when the parchment of the second blocks out the first.

“I could do a holographic overlay, if you want,” Tony suggests.

“Please,” Stephen says, beaming at him.

Tony’s heart leaps. God, but he’s crazy about this man. A quick scan with his glasses and the projector in Tony’s watch flares to life, displaying both maps in an overlay.

“Perfect,” Stephen says absently, already absorbed in studying the correlations between the maps. He doesn’t ask why Tony’s hanging around, playing sounding board and logistical support. At some point, Tony thinks, he’s going to have to come up with an answer other than I was thinking about you, and then I had to see you. 

Stephen turns to go find another map.

But not yet.

[fcksh1tup]

Warnings: Practically none. Coryo is a bit mean though (Whens he not??)

This is not a regular occurrence, I acknowledge, as I take in the new scene. It's a boy's bedroom first of all - and obviously so, with its dull grey walls and blue bed sheets. It's pretty plain, his room, but there are a few pictures and trinkets that give me a bit more of an idea of who my classmate really is. It's the view outside of the window that takes the stage however the Snow penthouse is - naturally- in an especially affluent area, nestled between the newest and fanciest skyscrapers and old-stlye libraries, universities, and town halls, most of which were rebuilt

during my early teenage years. They are built in a way that doesn't take away from the city's nature but encompass the surrounding greenery, elevate it through parks and small areas of woodland, all startlingly closeby.

Second of all, it's the bedroom

of Coriolanus Snow. I've never worked in a pair with the guy since it's usually Clemensia he partners up with. Coriolanus has no friends, and everyone knows Clemensia always partners with the smartest in each of her classes. She's a sucker for good grades, excuse the pun. I snicker at my own thoughts, and remember Coriolanus who is silently watching me study his room. He looks positively miserable, and it's clear he didn't want to work with me on the project. My curiosity about his home life just about outweighs the embarrassment that he hates me.

I remind myself to stop being so nosy, and fight my gaze away from a picture of him and his cousin- its embarrassing that I know this- when they were younger. He suggests we get to work, and leaves briefly to grab a chair from another room. We hudle up at his tiny desk in a way that I'll probably giggle about when I'm alone, and we start to come up with a plan. He's suggesting something very smart and very rambling, but it's the most I've ever heard him say in one go.

Again, my eyes start wandering, first to his face, his features, and the subtle expressions he makes as he talks and writes. Then I take in the objects lined along the shelf of the desk: there's a watch which looks beyond ancient, and could honesty be a Snow heirloom, and there's some folded papers, a pencil and what seems like the component of a bike or a motor, or something mechanical.

Then suddenly Coriolanus has swifly reached out to swipe something from his desk, something shiny and round. He slips it behind his back, clearly so that I don't see it. My eyes move from the hand behind his back, to his eyes as if they'll tell me what he's hiding. He holds the contact, and so do I, and its the most we've ever looked at each other so directly. My confidence eventually trickles away, and his startling blue eyes begin to intimidate me. I look back to the sheet he's been writing on, "So.. uhh. We'll need some books, right? From the library?" I ignore the fact that i can still feel his gaze on me, and nod to my own question because I'm basically talking to myself.

Maybe the rumours of his shrinking wealth aren't the only reason he has no friends.

Aww, he wants to hang out with me on the weekend!! God, he hates my guts. I'm not sure if this is a sign for me to go, but it feels like a goodbye. I'm about to announce ce my leave, when a voice calls through the awkward air, "Coryo!", the female voice sounds so happy and there's even a hint of a laugh in the shout, "Coryo!". I make a moment for the nickname because it's actually cute and somehow softens my opinion of the boy. I swear i hear him sigh next to me, and I can't help but breath out a laugh at his exasperation. We hear the footsteps before she swings open the bedroom door, closes it as soon as she sees us, and knocks on it with a humorous "Sorry!!"

Coriolanus does the most dramatic eye roll before he tells her to come in. Her beaming face appears

"Yes, we'll go on Saturday", he finally answers.

through the door, and she slips in through the tiny gap she's left for herself. "Hello, I'm Tigris," she looks to me. She looks very alike Coriolanus, with the same lovely blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and I figure she's his cousin. Her demeanour is different from Coriolanus' though. She has a refreshing and almost giddy bounce, which makes her friendliness all the more friendly. I immediately like her. I realise she's been talking to us, or Coriolanus mostly, and a catch something about how she'd had a record number of sales today.

I notice a change in Coriolanus' demeanour, however. He becomes significantly more relaxed and talkative, and he seems younger, and says witty little things that make me want to laugh, god forbid. This is only natural I guess; people you love obviously bring a side of you that you wouldn't show to strangers. It's nice seeing him like this, so different from the weirdo he is in school. And I actually like him now again... And I've been staring at him for too long now because they're both watching me with curious expressions.

Tigris quickly ropes me into an easy-going conversation about school and other stuff, and we find out of a mutual friend. I almost don't believe Tigris when she says she knows Hyacinth, and my mouth falls open and I'm pretty sure my eyes become wide like sausers. Hyacinth, apparently, did a few week's worth of an internship, working on some projects for Tigris' new business. Besides the fact she never told me, I had no idea she was remotely interested in fashion business. Fashion? Sure. But the actual making and selling of clothes? I'm impressed for some reason, and can't wait to torture it out of her. Tigris comes to sit on the edge of Coriolanus' bed and we turn around out chairs to face her.

It seems like we're talking for ages, and I realise we have been only by the chimes of a grandfather clock somewhere in the apartment. Then a loud wailing joins in with the repeating chant of the clock. At first I'm alarmed, looking for Tigris and Coriolanus' reactions, but i calm down when they seem relatively unsurprised about the sounds. My brows furrow as I watch Coriolanus almost comically drop his forehead in the palm of his hand. "Uh.. what is that,", I ask as tentatively as I can. "The Grandma'am", Coriolanus groans, and shares a look with Tigris, who rushes out to reach the their grandmother singing. My initial nose wrinkle turns into a giggle that I have to cover with my hand. Coriolanus looks up at the badly suppressed laughs coming from my hand. "Don't", he swipes his hand across his face as if he's wiping

sweat from his brow, "she's a nightmare!", but I think he can't help the smile that crawls on his face. I'm struck by how attractive it is, and realise i don't ever remember him smiling before. And I'm sure I would have remembered it, because it's the sweetest thing.

Tigris gets 'grandma'am' (the name makes me snicker internally) to cease with her ballads, and it's getting dark outside so I decide to go home. Like any lovely host, Tigris starts to object and asks if I'd like something to eat, while also apologising for her 'horrible hospitality' with a "we don't have much, but-". Coriolanus urgently interrupts her to tell me their cook was on her day off. He's lying of course- and it's not only Tigris' moment of confusion that tells me this. Coriolanus is a bit of a pathetic liar. Plus, something tells me the cousins aren't too eager to show their grandma'am off, even if it is just to a couple of cooks. A remarkable number of family secrets are exposed of in this way.

I firmly reject any offers to see me home, or pay for a ride back, and opt to walk home, even though it's a while away. I think as I walk. So the rumours are true, if not mostly, then partly. It's quite clear that, while surviving, the Snows are not as wealthy as they'd like everyone to believe. While having not having a cook is not uncommon, this is the Snows.

The past generations of Snows had some of most. My grandfather met Mr Snow (Coriolanus' grandfather or great-grandfather: I don't know), and the man supposedly had over 20 members of house staff, and a team of excellent cooks. And I haven't been in any boy's bedroom other than Coriolanus', but I know for sure Lucius, and Platus, and every other guy has more than a simple cupboard of clothes.

I wonder if I'll be able to escape Euphemia and my father's notice as I get in. I pull a face at the eager buzz of my accepted fingerprint, which sounds especially loud in the silence, and slip in through the door in a very Tigris way. Everything seems to be dark and quiet, and I think I've succeeded as I reach the staircase upstairs. But no. Father's waiting for me in his study, his gaze already on me as I abandon my attempt to skim past.

calls, which I realise is probably coryo.

"Where have you been?"

"I was doing my school project,"

I answer surely, already knowing to pass him the sheet with Coriolanus' elaborate plan. Father reads it carefully, eyebrows scrunching and twitching up as he intakes the information. I hope he doesn't question me about it, like he's done before, because I was only half listening to what Coriolanus was saying.

"Where?"

"We were working at the library," Upon his request, I tell him my partner is Coriolanus, and he gives a neutral grunt. I have to ask for the plan back because he's about to store it in his bureau, which makes me have to fight an eye roll. Father allows me to leave then, and I go straight to my bedroom with a silent cheer of victory at his lack of interest in my plan.

My father and I's conversations are hest rent short and shallow Father reads it carefully, eyebrows scrunching and twitching up as he intakes the information. I hope he doesn't question me about it, like he's done before, because I was only half listening to what Coriolanus was saying.

"Where?"

"We were working at the library," Upon his request, I tell him my partner is Coriolanus, and he gives a neutral grunt. I have to ask for the plan back because he's about to store it in his bureau, which makes me have to fight an eye roll. Father allows me to leave then, and I go straight to my bedroom with a silent cheer of victory at his lack of interest in my plan. My father and I's conversations are best kept short and shallow. I flop straight on my bed, which has turned miserably cold without me. I grab my notebook, and write about Coriolanus and Tigris, and draw some bits and bobs.

[cha-melodius]

9 books

I have been tagged by a bunch people on this (thanks @cricketnationrise, @clottedcreamfudge, @kiwiana-writes, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @myheartalivewrites, @cultofsappho), so I guess I better do it even though choosing my 9 favorite books sounds impossible. A bunch of these are series, almost none of them are in any way new. Let's go!

Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien A perennial favorite. Fun fact, I once planned to pull a Christopher Lee and reread these every year but then my hyperfixation faded a bit lol. Still love the story and Tolkien's prose.

Dune by Frank Herbert This counts for the whole series, yes, even God Emperor. It took me a while to get to the last two books but I love them just as much, actually.

A Song of Ice and Fire by George RR Martin Still obsessed with this story and desperately hoping we get the full ending that it deserves and not just what D&D butchered on the show.

The Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde The perfect combination of literary nerdery, comedy, and crime-drama intrigue!

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams Quite possibly the funniest book I've ever read, full stop.

Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer A nonfiction entry! I love all of Jon Krakauer's books but I'm also obsessed with mountain climbing (reading about it, not doing it lmao), and this one is one that still haunts me.

Blindness by Jose Saramago Read this in college, became obsessed with the poetry and imagery of it.

A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske Became absolutely obsessed with this one very quickly. Also I'm pretty sure the third book is going to become my entire personality when it comes out.

Dracula by Brahm Stoker Gonna be a hipster and say I've been obsessed with this book since I was in high school, which was long before Dracula Daily.

(Also reading everyone's lists has reminded me that I really need to actually read the copy of Circe sitting on my shelf...)

I can no longer remember who has and hasn't done this, so apologies for any double tags. @indomitable-love, @mirilyawrites, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @wolfpup026, @tedlassc, @beskarsoshiny, @lilythesilly, @jettestar, @iboatedhere, @pragmatic-optimist, @thesleepyskipper, @heytheredeann, @swearphil, @sweatersinthesummer, @petrodobreva, @b13-maybethistime, @liminalmemories21, @nontoxic-writes, @designatedgrape, @noahreids, @leaves-of-laurelin, @celeritas2997, @orchidscript, @athousandrooms, @welcometololaland, @rmd-writes, @dumbpeachjuice, @ikeepwatchinghelicopters, @okilokiwithpurpose, @thetamehistorian, @hummingbee-o0o

[lemonynuggets]

Hey lemon dude, for some reason lemon reminds me of spaghetti. Im calling u spaghetti man by now, just cause yes.

So, spaghetti man, what r your favorite books? Have u read any good ones this year or in the last one? Do u got any recomds in ur back pocket to give to the poor < someone that needs something to read, im the poor

fascinating thought process anon…

this post got too long so I’m putting it under the cut augh

Ok um to be completely honest I spent the entire year re-reading PJO/HOO and started TOA and the only books I read that weren’t riordanverse related were the seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo, doll bones and the little book of angels (and if comics/manga count: I re-read most of JSHK besides following the new chapters/reading the spin-off and got the OSNF part 1 comic and I’m almost done reading it!!)

I grew up reading PJO/HOO and for many reasons this series is really special to me so it’s definitely among my favorites (Ironically my favorite book from each are the fourth books), I started re-reading it last year and made three of my friends start reading it solely because I was so normal about it… idk what kind of book you’re into but I’d recommend it!! Each series has 5 books and are really fun and easy to read <3

on the other books:

the seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo was surprisingly good?? I was skeptical bc it isn’t the kind of book I usually read (I got it on my birthday) but as the book progressed I got more and more invested, anything I could say about it would be spoilers though

Doll bones was fun!! It’s very short but the story was interesting and I liked the characters, I don’t have much to say about it besides I enjoyed it

I bought the little book of angels for research reasons, I’m not religious but I like studying religious elements, specially angels, and I’m writing a story about angels and referencing things like the christian angel hierarchy so I thought the book could help me with references for that!! There wasn’t much stuff I didn’t know already there and a lot of the information was opposing (I forgot the word), it has pretty pictures though :)

Other books I remember enjoying (my memory is. Bad) are this was our pact (a really cute comic!! The story is cool and the art is so pretty), Luna Clara & Apolo onze (a Brazilian book with an interesting premise and a fun writing style), the 39 clues (very fun series, I read it around the same time I read PJO for the first time and I remember loving it so much…) and they both die at the end (made me cry)

And for JSHK and the OSNF book… you probably noticed I’m insane about jshk just by looking at my profile and I’ve mentioned several times ordem paranormal is my special interest and osnf specifically is my favorite season so I could spend hours talking about both of these but I’ll try to make it quick:

Jibaku Shounen Hanako-Kun is BEAUTIFUL, the story is really cool all of the characters are super interesting, the art is just. Gorgeous. It makes me sooo normal augh… I’ve been reading jshk since? Around 2019? I have a hard time with numbers, but yeah I am incredibly normal about it, here’s my collection and tiny Hanako to prove it

I have all the volumes that are out in Brazil plus both spin-off volumes and volume 0 and volume 9 in english + the tiny Hanako is the only jshk thing I’ve ever found in a con because I don’t have the money to buy actual merch and surprisingly jshk is not that known in Brazil

And o segredo na floresta part 1!!! I sold my soul for that book. I went to the book store to get ashk volume 2 and when I was going to pay I saw the osnf book and I had to stop there for like 2 minutes, put the ashk volume back in the shelf and wait in the book store for my mom so I could make a deal with her and ask for it because it was EXPENSIVE…

I am on the process of feeling the consequences of the deal we made but I GOT THE BOOK and gods I was so excited that day that I couldn’t even read it, I just paced around and waited to read it on the weekend

since I’m also re-watching osnf right now I can say they made a lot of big changes on the story, but it’s still really good!! The art is great and the past/future/now pages are SO CRUEL AUGHH they did NOT have to do that to me…. -100000 psychological damage everytime I read a new page…. Cellbit, Yabu and Akila when I catch you…

WELL THIS IS A BIG POST, sorry anon I tend to talk a lot…

I hope you find something to read!!! Yayy reading is so cool I love reading

[booksandrandomfandoms]

Mid year book tag

@thereadingchallengechallenge tagged anyone with a B in their username so I guess that includes me 😂

1. Best book you’ve read so far : Hench by Natalie Zina Walschots - and I definitely recommend the audio if you can (some of the voices the narrator did reminded me of like cartoon villains and I loved it😂)

2. Best sequel you’ve read so far : Hell Bent by Leigh Bardugo - I’ve read a few but this one’s still top of the list

3. New release you haven’t read yet but want to : The Isles of the Gods by Amie Kaufman - just ordered it too 😂

4. Most anticipated release for second half of the year : A curse for true love by Stephanie Garber - like I’ve already ordered 3 copies 😅

5. Biggest disappointment : Babel by R. F. Kuang - honestly I have many disappointments to choose from but this feels like the biggest 🤷‍♀️😓

6. Biggest surprise : How Lucky by Will Leitch - not what I was expecting, but that was probably my fault for not reading the description better 😂 (I was expecting mc to be a grouchy old man … and he’s only 26🤷‍♀️) very good book, audio was a lot of fun too 👍

7. Favorite New Author : Little Thieves by Margaret Owen - quickly ordered the sequel and am excited I already have some of their other books on my shelf (moving them closer to my top tbr 😂)

8. Newest Fictional Crush : The Chemistry of Love by Sariah Wilson - still looking for my Marco 😂

9. Newest Favorite Character : Court of the Undying Seasons by A. M. Strickland - Kashire was a LOT 😂

10. Book that made you cry : Vampires, Hearts, and Other Dead Things by Margie Fuston - wasn’t expecting it to but the end hit me hard 😭😭😭

11. A book that made you happy : Three Kisses, One Midnight by Roshani Chockshi - picking one that isn’t already mentioned and I was kind of surprised by , really cute

12. Favorite adaptation : actually haven’t been watching anything except Owl House lately 😅, i did see the Dungeons and Dragons movie (if that counts, though I’ve never read or played any D&D before) I do want to beg everyone to read my newest WEBTOON obsession Cursed Princess Club by LambCat (I fear we’re near the end though 😭)

13. Prettiest cover : Eternally Yours by Patrice Caldwell - it’s an anthology and it’s so pretty 😂

14. A book you need to read before the end of the year : Garden of the Cursed by Katy Rose Pool - another anticipated release that actually come out next week, I liked her there will come a darkness series and I hope I’ll love this one too 🤞

I’m tagging @themelodyofspring & anyone else who would like to share their mid year thoughts

[notebookmusical]

Hi! I'm sorry I took a few days to reply. Omg I'm so sorry you don't have a voice right now! That sounds so awful. Just try to drink as much water as possible I guess and hopefully it gets better. I think baking is a lot easier for me too..just because I don't make that many cooking recipes or anything and it's harder to know what dishes to make. I also think it takes a lot longer and same here..everyone is better at it than me and never gives me enough time to learn or anything. But I definitely think it will be a New Year's resolution for me to work on it more and just try harder. I hope your voice has at least gotten a little better since I last replied to you and that you're feeling better overall. Hopefully you can start the new year healthy but I hope you feel better sooner than that haha. The only time I've ever lost my voice is at concerts. I remember after my Taylor show, my sister lost her voice and couldn't talk for three days..but I've never had laryngitis. Well I also enjoy apple pie and I'm a fan of most desserts actually.

I think I will be happy with any vault songs she gives us and some of those are familiar to me too. I'm not sure why she didn't release Let's Go (Battle) but I think Need could be put on rep eventually..even if we know it's for Lover, it almost sounds more like rep. But it also reminds me a little of False God too so I'm not sure. I think she will add Beautiful Eyes to debut honestly which would be good since I don't really listen to it. The holiday album I'm more iffy on but I guess it could come this year maybe? I think I heard a rumor about it so idk.

Well I think I might have been confusing that one with NFU cuz he says I just miss the way that we talk..but I agree that I should give it another listen. But I really liked that one, and Glitter and Honey. I'm sorry you couldn't make the concert..that's such a bummer. Btw Saw you in a Dream is one of my fav songs ever but I actually haven't heard many other songs..just a few besides her newest album and maybe her EP before that. I don't actually know what my vinyl player looks like because it's unopened so I have not played anything on it yet but I hope you find what you're looking for and get lucky.

I liked him and think he will do good in the role but only saw one clip so far which was Wait For Me. I will have to look for more. Ooh who is the euryidice stunt cast? I hadn't heard about it. I still haven't got a chance to watch the parade performances or any Dancing performances actually. The only thing I saw was Taylors tour choreographer talking about the Vigilante Shit chair dance which is cool. She is the same choreographer who worked on the La La Land movie so that's pretty cool and I love the dancing in that movie so maybe I will watch a few. I also like the dancers in the tour during Lover and Enchanted.

Well I guess one goal I have is to finish more books that I start lol. Then of course finish the ones I'm in the middle of right now which is going to be paired up with a few on the list. My sister wants to read more too and I have a few in mind we can read together already that we never got to..which is the ones about twins and also the Night Circus. We also started Daisy Jones together a long time ago. Read more books that I own and are on my shelf and I made the goal of reading two books a month so far so we'll see how that goes. Wow that also is the same number of the year which is 24! So hopefully I stick to that. I also said that this year and failed miserably lol. I think I only read two full books this year and maybe two I was in the middle of from the previous year lol. Or maybe I will try to finish one or two I'm in the middle of right now before the year ends. I do not know many upcoming releases yet but Emily Henry and Carly Fortune are definitely two I'm looking forward to and the If he had been with me sequel. So I am supposed to reread that with my sister maybe next month since it comes out in February I think. Or Night Circus and Starless Sea too..idk cuz maybe those will take more than a month though. If you have any other books you think we can read together this year let me know. There is also the Today Tonight Tomorrow sequel and I hope to read the first one as it gets closer. What are some upcoming ones you're looking forward to?

So the movie was good! Like it was a pretty good and faithful adaptation I think. But I also didn't love it as much as other people really seem to either. It felt like they changed a few little things from the book or maybe just cuz I speed read it..oops. Although I'm not sure if you would get it as much if you didn't read the book..like if it would be confusing. I filled in a few things for my sister for example. I feel like the narration in the book made things clearer that was hard to show in the movie. The performances were good though at least. I liked the songs but I need to listen to the soundtrack again. It did not feel like the kind of movie I would wanna watch again really and it was kinda long. In fact it just made me want to rewatch the Hunger Games again and those movies were a lot better. It's just my opinion though I guess. I do like all the edits I've been seeing or connections and reading people's analysis though. I think we are also going to see the Renaissance movie this weekend too and I will probably enjoy that more lol. Although I'm worried it looks more like a documentary of the tour than the full concert..which kinda sucks cuz we didn't get to go.

I know she's been working on it a lot so I guess I wonder what will happen. What genre would you hope for in her new music? I've always wanted her to try more rock honestly so it makes sense why I loved I Can See You so much. I know it might be about her breakup though so I'm not really sure. Red also had hints of rock like State of Grace which is another one of my top favorites so I still have some hope. I also wonder if the music she's working on now could be for her upcoming film too..which it seems like no one has considered. That's so awesome that you saw all of your faves live this year..omg! If I ended up going to Paramore..then I could have said the same haha. They are definitely going to be one of my top artists haha. So I got Say Don't Go right technically but I think that was the only one. I also forgot that she already sang Afterglow or else I wouldn't have guessed it. Yes omg! I think that was my favorite pairing of these shows but I would've been fine with Innocent and Now we don't Talk. I love Say Don't Go but dislike it's Time to Go lol. Now that she's resetting the surprise songs next year, it will be harder to guess..which also makes it more fun! She also says there's extended version of the movie for her bday but didn't mention Cardigan in that list. Also she just put You're Losing Me on streaming finally. Maybe I will finally appreciate this song more but its also kinda just there for me lol. I wish I liked it more. I think it's honestly one of my least favorites out of all the songs she has released this year so hopefully TS11 has better songs. I hope you feel better and continue to have a good week. Happy wonderful Wednesday!!! 🩷

hi friend !! it has been ... ten (?) days without a voice now, which is just very frustrating but i'm mostly still in good spirits! the one downside is that my friend is coming into town friday through sunday, and i'm worried i won't have a voice by then still. but i can't really do anything about that, so we'll see. might have to continue doing text to speech robot voice! it's her first time in seattle too which makes it all the more interesting! but yes, staying hydrated, sitting next to the humidifier and just hoping i'll feel better soon! i went back to my best friend, the doctor's, and he gave me some new medication yesterday so hopefully that'll do it's magic soon! i'm surprised that i didn't lose my voice from eras weekend at all, but i did from boston (although that one is more so because i got sick → got laryngitis). guess it also makes a huge difference that eras took place over the summer!

what's your favorite dessert? mine is a toss up between black forest cake (what my mom makes for my birthday every year), tiramisu, and chocolate cake! but i also love oatmeal raisin cookies (probably my personal favorite thing to bake). my mom's also really good at baking bread, and i definitely need to pay more attention to her little tips and tricks when she does!

oh i could see the false god/need comparison! two of my close friends really want need to be released, and i hope it is for their sakes! i would loveeee the holiday album to come soon but i feel like it might be a "end of tour" gift next year? maybe? if tour is even over by then?

i was listening to i miss you already + i haven't left yet on vinyl yesterday as i worked! was thinking of you 🤍 i do think i still like his debut album more than i miss you already, but i also have listened to that one more/longer/etc. so maybe it's just recency bias! i feel like i'm starting to get burnt out (?) on new music? if that makes sense. but i'm also really excited for the holly/MUNA into your room, and then noah kahan/gracie abrams everything everywhere remixes that come out this week! but i think that's different since it's not new new music? i've been listening to fruitcake ep by sabrina carpenter a lot though! that one's really fun. saw you in a dream is soooo good and i also really like f a r a w a y ! but sunshine baby is definitely my favorite.

i heard rumors about lizzy mcalpine as eurydice? which i don't know how to feel about! for many reasons! here's an audioboot, if you're so inclined! i did see that quote and i thought that was really cool! i'm really excited that eras movie will be on streaming; i've got like ~ $25 amazon digital credits saved up, so i'm going to be streaming it on her birthday i think! just a little something fun! i notice new things every time, and i like picking a dancer — or two — to focus on! i would love to see a a BTS documentary of eras after it's done; i'm so curious about the quick changes, the rehearsal process, etc.

two books is still two more than you previously read! it's not a competition, and reading is supposed to be fun!! i almost started a new book tonight but i was too tired and then i remembered i haven't replied to you yet so i grabbed my laptop to do so! i think i'm going to try to work more on my les mis/night circus annotations tomorrow, and that'll probably be the last time i get to read until sunday or monday! i also need to update my reading thread — and make my 2024 reading tracker in google sheets! so much to do! i usually do a post on my book blog for 2024 anticipated releases, but i'm SO out of it that i can't even think of anything aside from my friends' books that are coming out!

i've never seen the hunger games movies aside from the first one, but i think what i want to do is do a series reread, watch the movies, read tbosas, then see it? maybe? or maybe read them all then watch them all? i have no idea! but all my friends have been talking to me about it and i have to be like WAIT I HAVEN'T READ IT YET DON'T SAY ANYTHING !!! it definitely has taken over my entire fyp, and i'm always in awe of how good people's editing skills are! i hope it's the full concert; you'll have to let me know how it is since i won't be seeing it for a while (if i end up seeing it)!!

i'm also not the biggest fan of it's time to go! i love the "but i've got me" line and think it's so symbolic of how this entire tour has been for her, and hearing her sing it live has definitely made me like it a bit more but i'm still not the biggest fan of it for some reason! out of all the surprise song combos in 2023, which one was your favorite? i wonder if cardigan will be on the streaming version, or in a physical DVD exclusive? we'll just have to wait and see! feels weird for her to exclude just cardigan. i did not expect her to release YLM today! i woke up and my phone was blowing up from friends about it haha! i do like it more with you know, proper production, dolby atmos, etc. and not ripped from an audio somewhere, but it's definitely not my favorite!

hope you have a good rest of your week!! 🤍 are you doing anything fun this weekend/anything you're looking forward to in december? love you!

[sebsxphia]

Sebbie I'm so excited and happy that you loved the first two chapters of "Honey We're Shrunk!". I was honestly debating on whether or not to tag anyone else because I'm really weird and don't like to tag people without asking first, but all the same it makes me super happy whenever I see the new tags or a comment.

I was thinking about the domestic life with preacher!Rhett again on the way home from work and the cutest thought popped into the back of my head (though it's definitely clear I'm embracing the soft, lol).

You being a Sunday school teacher, you've always loved telling your students the Noah's Ark story. Rhett even had a little wooden toy version with the little figures and the animals that Royal made when Rhett was a baby and he hoped to pass it down to the grandkids someday. Seeing as you adopted Amy as a baby, she was the first one to play with it.

When you and Rhett discovered that you two were gonna have your first (that came about one sweltering day in April when you and him had snuck into his office in the back of the church during a cookout and he had you right then and there on the desk), Rhett was over the moon since you had been trying for the last two to three years and thought you weren't getting anywhere. When you found out it was a little boy, you and Rhett knew right off the bat what you were gonna do for his room. You made him the Noah's Ark quilt, painted a mural of it on the walls and Rhett even had his little wooden toy on the shelf for when baby boy was big enough to play with it.

And when the other kids started putting in appearances in the family, he'll read them a story like Cinderella, Peter Pan or Snow White (Rhett may be a man of God, but he's a firm believer that the babies need to hear a good story at night and when Amy discovers the Harry Potter books, it's a whole other deal altogether) but always, the babies ask him to tell the Noah's Ark story and won't go to sleep until he does (lol).

awh i absolutely love it, my love! i just think it’s such a neat and cool concept, and seriously, fondly, reminds me of the borrowers 🥹 i cannot wait to read more!

oh and i love this thought so much! i know you’ve mentioned noah’s ark before with domesticated preacher rhett, but i just think it makes so much sense! and it’s such a sweet image with the baby room and reading them the story 🥹

thank you so much for this sweet thought my love! 💌

[breathplayed]

16 & 19 💜

(16) where is your favorite place to write? in theory it is at a nice cafe or library but i gotta be honest...... the majority of my writing is done in bed it's where i'm most comfortable sahfjknsdfds I Like Lying Down. on my side or on my stomach. my back hurty. i can only work at a table/desk for like 2 hours max before needing some horiztonal time. bed would be my favorite place to write overall but i consider it dangerous territory... i am more easily distracted in private + get sleepy easier. but i can only last so long being aesthetic at a cafe with a drinky so i really do the most writing manic as hell at 4am on my beloved futon

(19) what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most? this sounds so edgy but stephen king and edgar allen poe were really big influences lol. my mom is a big King fan and i started grabbing books off her shelf when i was like 12, and since i was a lil hot topic Goth at the same time i bought a Complete Works of Poe 2 be edgy but ended up loving the descriptions and the language. King especially, i remember it was the first time i'd read something stylistically distinct from the ya fiction i'd been reading, that played with language rules (stream-of-consciousness thought narrations, throwing words together to make new ones like dream-machine [I Still Do That. lots of em in folie]) it was cool to realize u can break the rules once u know them + go tf off describing things like Poe did

when i did my first lil attempts at writing a few years later (which was all horror lol) i consciously decided to emulate parts of those styles. for a long time anything of mine i plugged into iwritelike gave me King lmao (p much everything after 2019 says agatha christie though! around then i decided to try and be slightly less incomprehensible, and simplify things for Fanfic) (heads up, i might be about to get worse again though, writing folie reminded me how much i love going batshit on prose 🥴)

honorable mentions: A Wrinkle in Time by madeleine l'engle, all of narnia but especially The Last Battle + The Magician's Nephew by cs lewis (that one got referenced in fucking 'ignite the stars' i am so annoying), Coraline by neil gaiman, and a series of unfortunate events by lemony snicket all left Impacts!!!! i reread those first three last year and i want to reread a series of unfortunate events soon, i think i'd appreciate it even more now

i really like when authors get a little lost in the sauce and flex their grasp of language and make things borderline poetic. and play with grammar rules and alliteration. things that are fun to read aloud bc they sound like an enchantment if that makes sense. not Purple Prose, but just..... spellbinding lil passages that use words that Sound like what they are. like viscera and shattered and ragged and enchanting. those all sound like what they are to me and are fun to say. or when authors have really succinct little turns of phrase that feel unique like lemony snicket and hit their target right on their head. idk!!!! God i am allergic to making sense + shutting up huh

[dreamerstreamer]

Human GPS

Pairing: c!Technoblade x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Technoblade really needs some books of mending, and you just happen to be the daughter of the village cleric.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: this a repost of the first ever story i posted when i first made my blog. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you like it as much as i did! <3

Technoblade blinked, his eyes squinting up at the clear, cerulean sky. It was about midday now, and the beating sun sat in the center of the sky, almost taunting him from where it hung.

If the sun is directly above me, he thought, then west must be… He frowned. Somewhere. Maybe.

He groaned and swung his legs off of Carl, the horse letting out a soft whinny as he hopped onto the ground. He had been travelling for what must have been close to an hour now, and he still hadn’t found a village. It was almost like the universe was trying to waste his time. All he wanted was to get his hands on some books of mending so he didn’t have to worry about any of his armour breaking, yet the world was sending him on a wild goose chase, anyways.

“Seriously,” he muttered, irritation gnawing away at his already dwindling patience, “how hard can it be to find just one cleric? It’s not like I’m asking to find a woodland mansion, or something.”

Letting out yet another long groan, Technoblade flipped open the pack he attached to Carl’s saddle. He pulled out a baked potato and bit in, allowing himself a few seconds of relief as he ate.

For a brief moment, he considered digging through his bag to look for a compass or—better yet—a map. But then he remembered that just prior to leaving, he had reminded himself that he was a human GPS and that “Technoblade never fails.”

He sighed. No compass, it is.

He took another bite of the potato in his hands, looking around at the terrain around him. There was a lush birch forest to his left and a barren desert on the opposite side. Just a little to his right was a river and—

Wait a second.

Technoblade froze, his jaw freezing halfway through chewing another bite of potato.

He recognized that river.

A wide grin split across his lips.

He totally knew where to find a village.

Doing his best not to choke, Technoblade stuffed the rest of the baked potato in his mouth and buckled his pack shut. With a grunt, he pulled himself back onto Carl, picking up the reins. “Like I said, Carl, who even needs a compass? I’ve got the map memorized, and my inner compass is perfectly calibrated.”

Carl looked back at him and let out an almost sarcastic sounding neigh that seemed to say, “Sure.”

Technoblade’s face rolled his eyes. He snapped the reins once, and Carl charged forward.

The human GPS never failed.

You let out an ecstatic cry as you pushed the last book in your hands onto the creaky bookshelf, stepping back to look at your work in pride. You’d been organizing the library for a little over half the day now, and you were almost finished. Each shelf was now in alphabetical order.

Dusting off your skirt, you took one last glance at the shelves before settling down at the table in the corner of the room, looking over the to-do list you had set out for yourself the night before. “Let’s see,” you hummed to yourself, “I already dusted all the tabletops, mopped the floor, and delivered that order to Mr. Hart. Now I can check ‘organize bookshelves’ off the list, too.”

You set the quill down on the table. “Meanwhile, dad’s out trading with Mrs. Lee and said he would be back soon.” You stared down at the page for a moment longer before sighing. A frown etched itself onto your features. You leaned your elbows on the oak tabletop as your gaze trailed out the church window and up at the cloudless sky.

You had lived in the village your whole life with your father, the village cleric. Everything was peaceful and you loved the familiar environment you resided in, but things had also become so… boring in the village. So bland, so dull. You can’t even remember the last time you did something fun. Sure, you were productive and made sure to help your father around his workspace the best you could, but you wanted more than this.

Please, you thought to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in a silent prayer. Please, please, please let something new and exciting happen. At least just once in my life.

All of a sudden, you heard a distant rumbling.

You sat up straight, blinking awake from your reverie. What’s that sound?

The rumbling grew louder, and you could now recognize it as the galloping of a horse. Your thoughts were only confirmed by the loud whinny you heard right after the rumbles stopped.

You pushed your chair back, standing up from the table and walking over to the front window, crouching down to peek outside. You squinted, your eyes scanning around outside before they landed on an unfamiliar shape.

Your heart suddenly barrelled over in your chest.

Sitting atop a horse wearing diamond armour in the center of the village square was a stranger.

His back was facing you, but from what you could see of him, the first thing you noticed was the crimson robe hanging off his shoulders, cascading down his back like a scarlet waterfall. An axe was strapped to his back, tinted with a murky, violet hue. His hair was a vibrant shade of cherry blossom pink like nothing you had ever laid eyes on before, and on his head sat a golden crown encrusted with glittering gems. You wondered what his face looked like, curiosity bubbling in your chest.

Just then, he slid off his horse, landing on the ground with a small thump. He stood tall and proud, turning his head this way and that as he looked around at the houses around him, an air of regality surrounding him.

Then, he turned.

Your eyes only met for a fraction of a second before you immediately ducked down, hiding your figure from view in the window. The moment you were out of sight, you stilled, doing your best not to give yourself away.

He was handsome.

His face was calm and demure, reflecting his royal air almost perfectly, and his eyes, like his robe, were a piercing crimson red. They almost seemed to stare into your soul, laying every part of yourself bare for him to see.

He looked like a king in every sense of the word, and you just had to meet him.

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you struggled to regain your breath. You peeked over the windowsill carefully, glancing past the glass outside once more. The stranger had tied his horse to a post in the square and was walking around, glancing at the villagers here and there. Most of them seemed to be slightly wary of him—after all, it wasn’t everyday a king showed up at your doorstep. He seemed to be looking for something with the way he kept looking around him, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the village. Perhaps you could help him.

Slowly, you slid away from the windowsill and carefully clicked open the front door, stepping outside. The sun shone brilliantly on your face as you made your way toward the stranger. Once again, his back was turned to you, and you stopped a few feet behind him. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up what courage you had before speaking.

“Hello.”

The man turned at the sudden sound of your voice, his scarlet eyes piercing into yours. “Oh, hello.” His voice was deep, laced with a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your offered him a warm smile. “Welcome to our humble village. I’m [Y/N].” You extended your hand, and he took it in a friendly handshake, smiling back.

“The name’s Technoblade.”

Your eyebrows quirked. “Technoblade,” you repeated. “That’s a unique name.”

“Thanks,” he said, jokingly adding, “I got it for my birthday.”

You giggled at that. He may look regal and intimidating, but right off the bat, it seemed that his personality was far from it. “You know what they say, a bad joke is always the best way to leave a good first impression.”

He frowned, feigning sadness. “Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”

Your lips twitched. “Well, I laughed at it, so I’ll give you that.” His face lit up once more, and you felt your stomach churn with warmth. “Well, what brings you here?”

He gestured to the pack he had clipped to his belt. “Just looking to do a few trades, really.”

You looked at him in confusion. “A king? Trading with commoners like us?”

He blinked for a moment. “Ah, about that, I’m not really a king, per se.” He plucked his crown from off his head, tossing it casually in his hands. “The crown and robes are more for… aesthetic purposes, to say the least. I don’t really rule over my own country or anything.

Your tilted your head at him. “Where do you come from, then? I can only imagine you travelled for a while to get here.”

He shrugged. “It was kind of far, but it wasn’t a big deal, really. I never got lost.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Never?” you said.

“Never,” he confirmed. His grinned smugly, your heart reeling at the sight. “I’m a human GPS, if you will.”

You stifled a laugh but couldn’t hide your smile. What a dork. “Totally.”

His grin only widened. “Anyways, I’m from this place called Pogtopia.” You must have made a face at his words, because he laughed at you and god, even his laugh was pretty. “Yeah, it’s kind of a funny name, isn’t it? Well, I didn’t come up with it. My friends Tommy and Wilbur did.”

“They must be…” You looked for a good word. “…interesting people.”

He laughed. “It’s okay—you’re allowed to say they have bad taste in names.”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment. “Okay, yeah, their taste is pretty poor.” You glanced at him. “Are they the kings of your country then, since they named it?”

“Kind of. I guess you could call them kings, but they’re more like self-instated presidents, even though that kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a president.” You nodded, following along in agreement. “They’re trying to win back some land they were exiled from a while back called L’Manberg, although it was recently renamed Manberg, but there’s also Dream and his SMP, and—” He sighed, running a hand through his rosy locks. “It’s complicated. Basically, we’re sort of in the middle of this war, and I just kind of got roped into it.”

Your eyes widened in alarm. “A war?! Surely we wouldn’t get involved, right?” Your village, like many others, was a pacifist group of people, having no source of defense or battle skills to protect yourselves with. If this supposed war came all the way to your little village, all of you would surely perish.

Technoblade raised his arms in front of him, quickly shaking his head. “Oh, definitely not. You’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear.”

You pressed a hand to your chest as you let out a breath of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” Technoblade smiled at you from the corner of your eye, amusement lacing his lips. You suddenly straightened, another thought popping into your head. “What about you, then? Aren’t you worried?”

He laughed again, though it sounded more like a cackle. “Me? Worried? Nahhh.” He swung his axe off his back, being careful to point it away from you. “I may not look like it, but I’m actually one of the most feared warriors in the land. Tommy and Wilbur basically begged me to join their side so I can help them win.” He gestured to himself. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think it’s pretty clear to see I’m pretty much a god at PVP.”

You hummed, shaking your head. “No, I believe you. You do look like you could seriously teach someone a thing or two with that axe, but I really don’t think I need to feed your ego anymore.” You smiled bemusedly. “It already seems to be quite large on its own.”

His grin dropped. “Wait, please, feed my ego, I thrive off complime—”

A giggle escaped your mouth as you waved your hand at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Your expression grew a bit more serious. “But honestly, you’re not scared? Even a little?”

Technoblade shook his head. “Nope. A war is just a lot of fights lined up one after the other, and I’m great at winning fights. Heck, I could probably wipe out the other side in a heartbeat with what I’ve got in my arsenal. Tommy and Wilbur might just send me out by myself to do just that.”

“They would?” you said in disbelief. “Aren’t they worried for you, either?”

He snorted. “They were the ones who wanted me here to help them win, so they definitely aren’t worried.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Well, that was no good—no good at all. Wasn’t a single person concerned for this man’s safety, not even just one? No matter how powerful he may be, this was a war you two were talking about, and wars don’t always go according to plan.

Suddenly, it hit you.

“I see,” you murmured. You raised your chin, resolve filling your veins. “Then I’ll worry for you.”

Technoblade stared at you for a long moment, stunned into silence. Panicking, you began to ramble. “You and your friends may have overwhelming confidence in you and your abilities,” you said, “but it’s still important that you recognize that sometimes things don’t go according to plan. That’s why you should worry, and if you won’t, then I’ll do it in your stead.”

When he still didn’t say anything after yet another moment, you felt embarrassment rise up in you. “I’m sorry, we just met and that was totally uncalled for of m—”

“No, no, really,” he abruptly said, shaking his head. “It’s all good. Seriously.” There was a slight pause. Then, he softly added, “Thank you. I appreciate your concern.”

His lips curled to form a smile, but this one was different from the ones he gave you before. Those ones were proud and teasing, full of mirth and some level of arrogance. But this one was softer, kinder. More genuine and real.

You liked this one more.

Still feeling slightly embarrassed from having just rambled about caring about a near stranger to his face, you quickly shifted gears. “W-Well, I should probably ask what exactly you wanted to trade for,” you said as your cheeks flushed pink. You lowered your gaze to the ground, trying to avert your eyes from his. “I can probably help you find whatever it is you need.”

Technoblade hummed. “I have a bunch of stuff with me that I can use to trade, but I’m looking for a cleric to get some mending books from.”

Your head shot up in recognition. “A cleric, you say?” Your lips curled into a small grin when he nodded. “I know just where to find him. Wait here for a minute, okay?”

As soon as he nodded his head once more, you had already taken off, bounding down the grassy path with your skirt trailing behind you. Technoblade’s gaze followed you as you rushed down the path, a pleasant warmth bubbling in the pit of stomach and he watched you run off.

Usually whenever he came to a village, the people he met were wary of him and hardly ever spoke more than the bare minimum to him. Most of them were intimidated by his appearance, others thrown off by his cockiness. And yet here you were, treating him like a friend when so many before you had done the exact opposite. You were kind, compassionate, and you saw more than just his arrogant exterior. You genuinely cared for the person he was underneath the crown and the robes. Not to mention, you were quite the sight for sore eyes.

Warmth blossomed in his chest and something fluttered in his stomach.

He was glad he came to this village.

To say your father was more than pleased to trade some books of mending for the stacks upon stacks of emeralds Technoblade had was an understatement.

“I thought you said you weren’t a king,” you said to him, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you saw him open his pack.

“I’m not,” Technoblade said, twirling an emerald between his fingers. “I just happen to be very wealthy.”

You shook your head at him, a smile gracing your lips. “You’re a maniac.”

He shot you a smug look. “Oh, don’t I know it.”

After he had traded for some mending books with your father, he had asked you if your village had a fletcher.

“Oh, I made a delivery to Mr. Hart earlier today,” you said. “Here, follow me.”

The trek to the other side of the village was short enough, and you were content to wait on the sides while Technoblade made some negotiations. Just then, Mrs. Lee spotted you and strode up to you.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N],” she greeted, her lips tilting into a familiar gentle smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee!” you chirped happily, turning to face her. “Thank you for the pumpkins, earlier today! I’ll be sure to give you some of the pumpkin pie I bake tomorrow.”

“Why, there’s no need for you to do that, dear.” She leaned close to your ear to whisper, “You know you’re my favourite of the youngins here.”

You blushed. “You know that’s not true.”

She held a finger to her lips. “It’s our little secret, alright?” She looked over your shoulder at Technoblade, who was still debating with Mr. Hart. “Looks like you’ve become acquainted with our visitor, haven’t you, dear?”

Your blush deepened. “Y-Yes! I have. His name is Technoblade and he comes from a country called Pogtopia. He traded for some books with my father just now.”

Mrs. Lee wrinkled her nose. “Weird name, the both of them, but never mind that.” She smirked at you, glancing just behind you. “He’s quite the looker, isn’t he?”

Your face exploded like a bright red tomato. “I-I, um, he’s. Um.” You took a deep breath and fanned your face, lowering your voice. “He’s handsome.”

Her smirk only grew larger. “I hope the two of you become even more acquainted then,” she said cryptically, patting your shoulder. “I’ll be on my way now, but do let me know how it goes, okay?”

You nodded dutifully, too embarrassed to say anything else. Mrs. Lee turned away and continued her way down the grassy path, smiling to herself.

If only you had seen the way he had looked at you.

Hours had passed since Technoblade had first arrived in the village, and the sun was just beginning to set. The two of you had visited just about every working person in the village, chatting away as Technoblade traded for whatever he needed from each person you two saw.

The two of you learned a lot about each other in the time you spent together. You learned that Technoblade wasn’t a huge fan of government and much preferred anarchy. He learned that you longed for something much more than your normal life in the village, but you had yet to discover what it was you wanted to do. You learned that he owned a dog named Floof. He learned the location of your favourite spot in the village. By the end of the day, it felt like you two had known each other for ages.

You secretly hoped that he would stay, but you knew that he couldn’t. The village wasn’t his home, after all.

You stood nearby as Technoblade strapped his pack back onto Carl’s saddle, chewing the inside of your lip. He climbed onto Carl, securing his axe on his back and picking up the reins in his hands. “Well, [Y/N],” he said, a hint of disappointment tinging his voice, “it looks like this is goodbye.”

“I guess so,” you murmured sadly, casting your gaze down at your feet. You had only known him for so long, but an overwhelming sense of loss filled you knowing that Technoblade was leaving and may very well never return. He was funny with his dry, dorky sense of humour and charming with his sharp grins and deep voice.

You weren’t sure you were quite ready to let go just yet.

“Um,” you spoke up, your voice cracking a little, “will you…” You peeked up at him, nervously biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your fingers. “Will you ever come back?”

Something in Technoblade’s chest seized at the shy look on your face, your cheeks rosy and your gaze darting back and forth between his eyes and the ground. While he had originally only come in search of this village to trade with a cleric, he supposed he might always need more mending books in the future. Not to mention, he would also get to see you.

He smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll be back, so wait up for me, yeah?”

Your eyes lit up and an elated grin spread across your face. “I-I will!”

He chuckled at your giddiness, his own heart beating wildly against his rib cage. “Good.”

Sharing one last look with you, he snapped his reins and held on tight as Carl dashed forward, his gaze trailing behind him as he watched you wave your arms frantically at him. He couldn’t help but crack a smile at your enthusiasm, raising his arm to wave back at you himself. He kept waving until he could no longer see you, and only then did he face forward to find his way home.

The journey back was significantly shorter than the trip to the village, and before he knew it, he was tying Carl to his usual fence post. He was a human GPS, after all. How else would he have found the village—and you—with so much ease?

He tilted his head up, looking up at the rising moon in the east. Now he knew that the village (and you, his heart helpfully supplied once more) lay to the west, just beyond the birch forest, desert, and river. Above him, he could make out the shapes of a handful of constellations, the stars twinkling and winking down at him from space. He wondered if you were looking up at the same starry sky as him. He wondered if your stomach was full of butterflies, too.

“So,” he mused to himself aloud, his heart thump-thump-thumping in his chest, “[Y/N], huh?”

He was definitely going back.

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[emjiroki]

Chapter Four: Heartbeat

Warnings: mentions of scars and fluff 

A/N: This is honestly my favorite chapter so far! Shoto is one of best muses and I love him! Hope everyone Enjoys 💕

“Is there anything you’re thinking about getting while you're there? I haven’t kept up with what Manga has been coming out lately,” Shoto asked as he and Hanta walked up to the crosswalk, deciding it better to park a bit away due to midday traffic flowing past in the street. 

“I’ve gotta get something for Eijiro for his birthday coming up,” Hanta said, thinking for a moment as they walked, “honestly I’m just gonna browse and see what catches my eye.” Shoto nodded in agreement, he didn’t know if he would actually get anything at all, but he was happy to be out of his apartment. Thankful to have a distraction for a little while, something other than searching online for local news from the weekend before to see if any of them had posted your statement to the police, to see if any of them had caught your name. Not only did they not have you anywhere, barely anyone reported on it at all, despite him being injured and put in the hospital. It felt like a losing battle, the blank spots in his memory due to the concussion making it harder and harder to remember your face. He could remember the shock sparkling in your eyes, those beautiful eyes that took his breath away. With no other track record to go off of and with you not being involved with any Hero Agency, trying to find you was more difficult than he thought. No name meant a needle in a haystack. Shoto could only hope he would know when he saw you again, that all the memories would clear and you wouldn’t be a daydream anymore. 

“Today’s our lucky day! Looks like there’s barely anyone here,” Sero said as he pushed the door open, a soft bell chiming through the open space.

‘Perfect’ Shoto thought to himself as he took in a deep breath. Crowds never were his thing, and being a pro hero hasn’t made that any better.  He always loved the smell of bookstores, it reminded him of when his sister would read to him as a kid, the homey scent of ink and paper making his chest warm. No one greeted them on the way in and he figured whoever was working was probably helping someone or stocking books. Even better.

“I’m gonna go look at the figurines, if you find any sales on box sets come get me,” Sero said, turning off to the back of the store towards the display cases. 

Shoto made an affirming sound as he moved off towards the bookshelves, looking for something but also nothing in particular. He just happened to stop in the fantasy section for a moment, a sign pointing out sales catching his attention along with the knights and grotesque creature on the cover. He vaguely remembered Izuku suggesting it at one point, saying that it was a good series with amazing art, which might be something new to try.  Life has a way of working unexpectedly, lining things up in a certain way that seems so ironic that he almost laughed. 

“Need help finding anything?”. 

It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room when he heard your voice. How was he supposed to move his feet again? To turn and lock eyes with you, to feel his heartbeat out of his fingertips. How was he supposed to breathe again? His chest grew tight with the absence of air to speak. He felt like he was on autopilot, brain functioning at the lowest capacity so his heart could have free reign. But his heart had no idea what it was doing either. 

“I- Just- uh,” Shoto put the manga back on the shelf trying to gain his composure, “Just- browsing?” God, he was glad Sero was off somewhere else and not here to see the embarrassing blush on his skin or hear the inflection in his cracking tone. He felt like he was in high school again, getting the second-hand embarrassment from being Izuku’s wingman, except this time it was him in the hot seat. 

“Well that’s a really good series, you should give it a try if you’re looking for Fantasy. It’s one of our best sellers,” You said with a smile, “If you need anything just let me know.” Oh no, you were turning to walk away, probably to get back to your job by the look of your nametag. Shoto’s hand went out to grab yours, unconsciously just like before, like there was a string pulling on every fiber of his being to follow you. 

“Wait!”. His cool hand was wrapping around your wrist to stop you. Shoto immediately dropped his hand when you jolted from the cold, a flush immediately burning his skin so hot that he had to check and make sure his quirk hadn’t ignited. 

“I’m sorry,” He said quickly pulling his hand back to his side, “But I uh-”. ‘Just say thank you, idiot! You’ve practiced this a million times. Say thank you for saving me and ask her out’ his brain was shouting. 

“I actually do need some help, I have no clue what I want,” He admitted, kicking himself internally for being a coward. He’s been a pro hero for four years, has gone toe to toe with some of the most vicious villains, but a pretty girl has him shaking and tongue-tied like a little kid. 

“Sure I can help you with that, any genre you’re looking for?” You asked, turning and gesturing for him to follow you. 

“Well, sci-fi has been a go-to for a long time,” Shoto said as you stopped at one of the middle kiosks.

“Really? Seemed more like a romance guy to me,” you said with a shrug. His stomach plummeted. How had he known that blunder would be the thing you remembered the most about him, of course. He was about to apologize, had the words ready when he noticed you attempting to hold back a grin. You were teasing him. 

“I don’t read them often, funny enough. mostly sci-fi and fantasy. ” He said, aware that his face was burning and probably as red as the left half of his hair, only deepening the hue of his scar. He fought childhood instinct to cover it out of embarrassment, hand twitching then relaxing back to his side. 

“We’ll look at sci-fi first then circle back to where we were,” You said, seemingly picking up on his abrupt discomfort and changing the subject. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now he knows that you know, that you remember him, that you’re real and not a part of some vivid nightmare he would gladly live over and over again just to see your face and feel your fingers drumming against his leg.

He felt like he was floating as he listened intently to you as you gave him suggestions on different series and sets of manga he couldn’t for the life of him remember the name of or what they were about, only the fact that you were here in front of him and talking so passionately about everything around you was important to him at that moment. Shoto didn’t know how long he followed you around for, a soft smile on his face and quiet nods and hums to show he was listening even if his brain was swimming in the clouds, all he knew was the singular book he had started off with has now turned into a stack balanced in his arms. He grabbed everything you had talked about, practically anything you had touched, just shadowing you and grabbing books, wiping a whole series off the shelves at one point because you said it was one of your favorites in the horror genre, he didn’t even really like horror manga that much. But he didn’t care. Couldn’t care as you fixed him with that wide-eyed look when you turned around at one point, the stack had been up to his chest, and laughed. Now you two were at the counter, Shoto carefully balancing the books so you could scan them. 

“Are you sure about this? You know the place isn’t going to disappear,” You said with an incredulous laugh, sliding the first couple of books across the scanner. 

‘I don’t know that. This seems too good to be true’  He thought to himself. 

“Well I live across town and I’ve got some time off work because- uh,” He paused, why did he pause?

“Because you busted through my windshield?” You asked casually, grabbing a large reusable bag to start loading the books in as you scanned. 

“Yeah that, I’m really sorry. They should have had that street secured,” Shoto said, hand going to the stitches behind his ear as if feeling them would ease the nervousness still shaking his hands. 

“It’s not your fault, I’m just glad to see you,”. It seems you both realized what you said at the same time because your face and neck flushed when you made eye contact, mouth slightly open as if you were trying to pull the words back in against your tongue. 

“See you safe I mean- not like covered in blood anymore and- but I guess I am glad to see you- uh this is weird ignore me” You stammered, nearly dropping the book you were scanning. 

“I’m the weird one. I told you I loved you,” Shoto said with a soft smile, anxiousness easing just slightly when he saw how flustered you had become. He had never understood the effect he had on people, even when everyone around him told him he was attractive and could get anyone he wanted, he just didn’t believe it. Didn’t believe someone would ever get butterflies because of him, would ever blush because of him. He was just Shoto and that had always been enough.

“Well you hit your head pretty hard, I’m not gonna hold it against you” You laughed, refusing to meet his eyes out of embarrassment. 

‘Look at me’ He pleaded in his mind, heart thrumming like a harp. As if hearing his plea, your eyes flicked back up to his, stealing his breath again. Shoto didn’t think he would ever tire of that feeling. 

“Sho! Couldn’t find you man where did you run off to?” Sero said coming up behind him at the counter with a box and three manga in hand. He looked over Shoto’s shoulder to see what was on the counter. “Geez, I thought you said you wouldn’t get anything?”. 

“I told him we wouldn’t disappear,” You said, stacking the last book into the bag. Shoto shrugged his shoulders.

“You know I’m not going back to work for another week Hanta, don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

“Because you never buy more than three manga. Ever. Says it throws you off and you need time to get through everything,” Sero said with a grin looking over to you, “guess this pretty girl made a big difference in your spending habits huh?”. Shoto felt his face burning again as pulled his wallet from his pocket, not bothering and really not wanting to know the total, and handed you his card. Both of you ignored Sero’s comment, you stuffing the receipt down into the bag and Shoto doing everything he could not run from the store. When Sero was rung up and bag in hand, Shoto’s heart plummeted. He had to go now, had no other reason to stay around and it felt like his stomach was twisting. 

“I’ll meet you at the car okay?” He said to Sero as he was turning to the door. The black-haired Hero just gave him a weird look, about to question him when he looked over to you behind the counter then back to Shoto.

“OH okay right,” He grinned, “I’ll see you in the car Lover Boy”. Shoto should kick him, make an ice path across the street and send Sero sliding, but he escaped out of the door first, the little bell chiming obnoxiously behind him. 

“I just wanted to say Thank you again. For saving me and everything,” He said softly, watching as you waved his appreciation away.

“Please don’t thank me. Just because I’m not a pro hero doesn’t mean I can’t help others when they need it, just glad you’re not dead,” You said with a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. 

“Yeah I guess I am too,” Shoto said with a nervous chuckle, “so-”. He was about to ask you for your number to take you out, show you how happy he was to find you again, and show you that he wasn’t kidding when he said he loved you. But something made him stop. Maybe it was the soft shift in your gaze, maybe it was the way you gripped the counter with white knuckles as he paused but the words died on his tongue. 

“So I’ll see you later,” Shoto corrected himself, watching as you released a held breath. 

“Right,” you said with a soft smile, voice quiet. “Be safe out there.”

“Yeah, you too,” He said, trying not to show the disappointment in his tone as he hefted the bag of books up from the counter. He didn’t know what made him stop from letting the words escape, why he swallowed them like bad medicine and turned to leave, hand fisted deep into his jacket pocket and heavy bag hanging from his left shoulder. 

“Bye Shoto,” You said quickly as his hand was on the door. Your eyes were bright when he looked up at you, just as beautiful as the first night he met you and he was suddenly grateful for the itchy stitches and aching ribs. 

“Bye Y/N,” your name fell so perfectly from his tongue “see you soon,” He said, shoulders holding a little straighter with the confidence in his tone. Shoto would see you again. And if fate was merciful, he would never have to say goodbye. 

You slumped down behind the counter once he was out of sight, pressing your hands to your face and nearly screaming. How did this keep happening? How did you keep running into him? Why did it feel like your entire body was charged with electricity whenever he had held your wrist in his hand. You hadn't wanted to monopolize his time but the more suggestions you gave the more interested he became, asking questions periodically and following right behind you as you guided him through the shelves. Why did it make your heart ache when he turned the scarred side of his pretty face away from you anytime you tried to look right at him, as if ashamed or nervous. ‘Look at me’ you thought when he tried to look away, trying to hold back every instinct that screamed to lay a hand against his cheek and face him towards you. You had felt almost guilty when you had seen the stack he had collected, stifling a laugh at the sheepish look on his face as his cheeks dusted pink. But now he was gone and it felt odd. Almost empty. Which was such a strange feeling having only barely known him for very long at all. 

With it now being early evening the store had grown quiet, indicating that it was almost closing time. You only had a few more boxes of restocks to finish so you tucked them away in the back corner to wait until tomorrow, still needing to wipe down the front counter and lock up the back figurines, when you thought back to earlier, how Shoto had paused before turning to leave. When he had looked as if he was about to ask you something. You shook your head, cheeks growing warm from embarrassment at yourself and the thought. There was no way.

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (5)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 4.3k warnings: really flippin sweet fluff, more book recs a/n: to avoid confusion - the manner in which Bucky lost his arm is different in this series than in canon  🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

For the first time since Bucky was discharged from active duty, he had a routine again.  

The curtains were open before he took a shower in the morning; sunlight streaming in through the windows and casting a gentle glow over the apartment. It touched over books piled high on the coffee table, pillows neatly lined on the sofa, and blankets folded over the arm rest. Steve had nearly done a double take the first time he made his usual beeline to whip open the curtains to expose a dusty and unkempt apartment, only to find Bucky making coffee in the kitchen, freshly showered, and the sun shining high in the sky.  

It had been almost a month since his first attendance at book club and he’d gone through nearly a book a week just to have the excuse to visit you at the library again for another. You’d given him your number after his first trip to the library with a binding promise to text you if he was held up in his apartment in pain again. You’d sworn to bring books straight to him and read them aloud if you had to.  

You had laughed as you said it, like it was only a joke. Bucky had nodded along, but if he were honest, he would have liked that very much.  

He’d arrange for times to meet you at the library at the end of your shift where you’d always have a book waiting for him. There’d be a few sitting on the shelf you’d set aside, but without fail, he always opted for the first one you presented to him. You hadn’t led him wrong so far.  

After, though neither of you directly proposed it, you’d often find yourselves back at Luciana’s. It was like your feet simply carried you there, a silent agreement to spend as much time together as you could, even if you were both too afraid to admit it out loud.  

He came to understand why Sunday was your favorite day of the week. Bucky started to take it upon himself to meet you at the library to walk you to the VA where he fulfilled his word to help move the couches before the usual members arrived. The look of surprise on your face when you bounced down the library steps and caught sight of him leaning on the pillar a few steps away from the busy sidewalk had been enough to convince him to never leave your side again. 

Your smile was one he’d learned to memorize. He conjured it when the strangers bumped into him on the sidewalk threatened to collapse his racing heart entirely and it pushed him further. It was enough to convince him to keep going beyond the safety of his apartment walls and it was worth it every time. Just to see you smile at him like that.  

***

“Have you started it yet?”

Bucky blinked a few times, reminding himself of his surroundings. You stood on his right side in line at Luciana’s behind a couple of tourists who were having a hard time discerning the difference between a cappuccino and an americano. He raised an eyebrow, confused, and you gestured to the book in his bag.  

“Oh, I just flipped through the pages so far,” Bucky said, pulling the book from his bag; thick black cover with a small white illustrated creature staring up at the stars. Everyone's a Aliebn When Ur a Aliebn Too written by an author that seemed to go by a name as misspelled as the title, Jomny Sun. “It looks like a children’s book?”

You grinned and your shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It’s somewhere in between. You have to trust me on this one. It may seem young on the surface but it’ll tug at your heart strings. Hold your judgement until you’ve actually read it, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled, nodding. “Hey, I never said I didn’t trust you. Just curious where you’re leading me on this one.”

“Be blind, Bucky,” you sang, teasing him. “I won’t guide you into a creepy forest or the bottom of the ocean, I promise.”

“Oh good. I was starting to worry.”  

It was strange to feel so light again, but there was something about your presence that allowed him to let go of all the weight he carried. He could set down his baggage at his feet for just a minute to give his back a break, to stretch out his muscles and find relief in the solace. You would have offered to carry some of it yourself if he’d asked— of that he was certain. But it was a heavy load, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for you to see what was inside just yet.

The bell to the café rang behind him and a mother and her young son walked inside. The little boy held the woman’s hand as he scrunched his nose at the smell of the coffee, pouting up at her. A bright red backpack hung off his shoulders, Velcro ties over his tiny sneakers. The soles lit up as he walked.  

“Mommy, I want to go to the playground,” the kid whined and Bucky watched you laugh to yourself from the corner of his eye.  

“We will, sweetness,” the mother replied calmly. She bent down to brush the hair from the boy’s eyes. “Mommy just needs a bit of caffeine before we—”

“Whoa! What happened to that guy’s arm?” the kid gasped, a mixture of shock and amazement in his tiny little voice.  

Bucky tensed up immediately, every muscle in his body turning to stone. When strangers noticed his arm, he was usually met with unwanted stares and hushed whispered, but children were a whole different story. They had no filter, no sense of the unspoken rules garnered by society; they were driven by their own curiosity and something as trivial as politeness did not get in the way of that.  

“Oh, honey,” the mother gripped tight to the boy’s arm, lowing her voice in hopes Bucky hadn’t heard him, “you can’t ask things like that.”

“Why not?” the boy replied innocently. “Where’d it go?”

Bucky could feel your eyes on him, studying for his reaction, but he couldn’t offer one. He was stone, after all. A frown tugged at your lips to see the sudden distress wash over him and he felt an aching puncture of embarrassment deep into his stomach. It only took the mere mention of his arm to wipe him to a blank slate, to throw him back to the battlefield where it was torn from his body. Any unexpected reminder of it usually did.  

You nodded at him, offered a small smile, like you were trying to tell him it would be alright. Then slowly, you turned around and knelt in front of the boy.  

“Hi,” you said sweetly, catching the mother off guard.  

“Do you know what happened to his arm?” the boy asked, must to the dismay of his mother.

“Mason! Oh God, I am so very sorry,” the mother quickly apologized, flustered as she desperately tried to hush the boy. He pressed his face into his mother’s arm.  

Bucky stole a glance over his shoulder to find you kneeling on the floor beside the boy, smiling at him as he clutched a plush triceratops to his chest. You tilted your head at him, trying to get a better look at the boy.  

“You want to know what happened?” you asked softly. He nodded, arms wrapped tight around his stuffed toy. You glanced up at Bucky and his eyes narrowed on you, heart beating a little faster, stomach twisting, before you turned back to the boy. “He did something really brave.”

Fuck. 

Did you know? 

Did Sam tell you? 

Bucky’s legs started to feel weak.  

“You like superheroes, huh?” you continued, pointing at the image of a man in a red cape flying on the boy’s t-shirt. The boy nodded shyly. “They swoop in and save the day with their super strength or magic powers, right?”

The boy started laughing, he was smiling again, standing free from his mother’s hold. She was staring at you like you were akin to one of the characters on the boy’s shirt. Bucky felt the stones cracking around his body, freeing him from their grip.  

“Is he Super Man?” Mason whispered, glancing up at Bucky with such wonder, it took him by surprise. The boy was so small, no older than four years old. Bucky didn’t know the last time he’d even talked to a kid that young and yet here you were, at the boy’s level, making him laugh and smile and easing the concerns of his mother.  

“No, he’s not,” you laughed for a moment. Then, you softened, gathering the boy’s attention again. “My friend here doesn’t have super powers. So, when he saved someone, he got hurt. But I think that makes him very brave, don’t you?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically, grinning so wide Bucky wondered how it was possible your smile could be so infectious. The mother mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ in your direction as the boy quickly changed subjects to the sprinkled donut he was going to eat for snack. She caught Bucky’s eye for a minute and nodded at him, almost in appreciation. He pressed his lips to a thin line. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything back.  

You ordered his usual coffee and one of the freshly baked muffins, then a drink and a pastry for yourself. In Bucky’s distraction with the kid, he hadn’t noticed you pay before he had a chance. He felt like he was in a bit of a trance as you led him back to a table in the far corner of the shop, away from the windows and the customers.  

“You alright?” you asked as you slid into your chair opposite him.  

“Did Sam tell you?” Bucky blurted out before he had a chance to bite his tongue. It was the last thing he wanted you to know about and he had half a mind to storm up to the VA just to rip Sam a new one before he shut himself off in his apartment for a few weeks.  

It was the reason for the reoccurring nightmares that hadn’t let up in the last month, even when he’d started to have more good days than bad. They’d celebrated him for what he’d done, given him a medal, and thanked him for his service. The very thought of it made him want to vomit.  

“Hey, hey, Bucky look at me,” you called gently, your voice at the end of a dark tunnel. He blinked, adjusting to the light. “Sam didn’t say a word about what happened. I had a theory and I made a guess. You’re clearly a good man. It didn’t feel like much of a stretch. That’s all.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, staring down at the muffin as he picked at the paper cup. He heard you sigh, surprised that he couldn’t find a single sliver of impatience in your voice. When he looked up again, you smiled sweetly at him and asked him about Alien – Aliebn? – book; quickly lost in tangent of your favorite pages and moments you were excited for him to read.  

He was grateful for the change in subject, but more than that, it gave him a chance to just admire you. There was nothing strange about watching a woman, studying the intricacies on her face and the passion in her voice, when she was speaking right to him. He nodded along, doing his best to actually take in what you were saying, but he was so easily distracted by the brush of steam touching your nose, the press of your lips into your cheeks, the lines on your forehead, and the way your eyes seemed to light up the entire city block.  

The kid, his arm, and nearly six years of combat were quickly forgotten when he had the chance to watch you like that. You hardly let him get a word on, too caught up in your own excitement for the novels you placed in his hand, but he didn’t mind. He preferred to listen to you anyway. Your voice had a calming presence about it; soothing and gentle, loving and joyous. If it weren’t for the clock hanging on the wall above your head, he might have sat there all night with you.

“We should probably head over,” he pointed out reluctantly, gesturing to the clock as it approached six.  

You frowned, following his gaze to see the time had slipped by quicker than you realized. As you began to clear off the table, throwing the scraps in the garbage and setting the mugs on the counter for Luciana, Bucky began to wonder if maybe you would have sat there all night with him, too. If only he could find the courage to ask.

***

Bucky removed the clip from the book, closed the back binding, and slumped back into the cushions. The room was still pretty quiet, everyone’s noses still down in their books as the soft strum of Simon & Garfunkel played from the speaker by the coffee table. He glanced over at you as you sat beside him, a little closer than usual, though he didn’t mind. Your hip brushed his every so often when you adjusted position. It was a kind of closeness that left him wanting more.  

You were only halfway through your own book, but you could clearly sense him watching you because you slowly looked up in his direction, a pointed smile on your face.  

“You were right,” he admitted, his voice a hushed whisper in effort not to disturb the other members. “Surprisingly deep considering it’s a children’s book for adults.”  

“Hey maybe we need pictures on our pages, too,” you whispered back, teasing him with a nudged to his right shoulder. He laughed, leaning back comfortably against the couch as Tony’s eyes glared over in his direction from the top of his book. He pressed his lips together to keep quiet.

You snickered into Bucky’s shoulder, lips pressing against the sleeve of his jacket and he had never wanted to remove that layer more in his life; to actually feel the imprint of your mouth instead of just the press of your face, to feel the heat in your breath breathe through the thin layer of his t-shirt. He shivered.  

“Alright kids,” you said aloud, setting your book on the table. “Times up for today.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! I’ve only got one chapter left!” Clint whined, stretching out dramatically along the table he was laying across.  

“Glad to hear it, Clint,” you smirked, hands planted firm on your hips. “Finish on your own time.”

A couple of ‘ooo’s rang out and it reminded Bucky of his days sitting behind a desk in class in grade school and a kid would get called up to the principal's office. Clint took it in stride though and seemed to bask in it, throwing up a pose in face of the chorus.  

The crowd quickly dispersed after that, though a few of the older members lingered behind to update you on how far they’d gotten in their books. Bucky watched you from a distance as he started to move the couches back into place, mesmerized by the glimmer in your eye as you spoke to them, a soft hand resting on the crook of their arm, nodding along with a smile on your face – always so genuine in every interaction, in every bone in your body.  

Bucky had practically finished arranging the entire room by the time you walked back inside. Your jaw dropped, wide eyes meeting his.  

“You didn’t have to do all that by yourself!”  

Bucky shrugged. “How long were you doing it on your own before I came along? Take the help when it’s offered, Y/n.”

You smiled at that. “Still. I appreciate it.”

“It’s really nothing,” Bucky said simply.

He hadn’t felt a drive like this is years. Not even before his final tour and the destruction that came with it. He hadn’t remembered what it felt like to want to lift even the smallest of burdens for someone else just to see the weight slip from their shoulders, just to see them smile. He found himself wanting to carry everything you had, even if it started with arranging the heavy furniture of the empty VA library.  

You chewed on the edge of your lip as you watched him approach the door, your jacket in his hand. He had wanted to hold it open for you, to let you turn your back and slip your arms through the sleeves, but it just wasn’t something he could do with one hand, and instead, he placed it to hang over your forearm. 

A longing for a world in which you met him before his body had been put through the shredder ached deep into his gut. It started to push a frown onto his lips, but then your voice broke through and he shook it away.  

“Ready?” you asked, gesturing to the door and he nodded, following closely behind.  

There was a sudden nervous energy in the air he didn’t expect, and for once, it wasn’t coming from him. He glanced over at you as you walked in line with him to find you fidgeting with the zipper of your jacket, hands wringing into the fabric, and hair falling out of place and down into your eyes. You exhaled a few tense breaths as Bucky opened the main door for you, following behind as you stepped out onto the side walk.  

The two of you stood there for a minute, neither one making a move to leave. You kept glancing back at the VA, then to your watch, barely able to look in Bucky’s direction and he started to feel that familiar twist of anxiety in his stomach.  

“Hey, are you oka—”

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you blurted out before he could finish, biting down quickly on your lip as if to stop yourself from saying more.  

Bucky froze, confused. He glanced down at his watch. It would be dark soon. “Now?”  

A flash of embarrassment quickly passed over your features and Bucky’s stomach dropped. 

Was it possible that you just wanted to spend more time with him? That maybe you could crave his presence the same way he did yours?  

“N-No, no, you’re right. It’s late. I’m sorry,” you muttered quickly, arms folding protectively over your chest. You kicked at a stone on the sidewalk, watching as it rolled over on its side. “I should, uh, I should head home then. I’ll see you later, Bucky.”

“There’s a park nearby,” Bucky offered before you could turn away. You lifted your head.  

“Yeah?” A cautious smile hung on your lips as you stepped closer to him.  

Bucky nodded, trying to push away the shaking in his hand. “Yeah, come on.”

A couple minutes passed by in silence as you walked along his side. Every so often, your knuckles would brush up against his hand, a nervous laughter between you as you pulled away. It happened so quickly each time, he never had a chance to respond. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure he would have had the courage to twist his fingers into yours, hold your hand tight to his own, feel the warmth of your palm and guide you along the cobblestones to the small space of greenery amongst brick and steel and concrete.  

“I hope you don’t mind me keeping you out late,” you said slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you waited at the intersection to cross the street.  

“Not at all,” Bucky replied sincerely, offering you a small smile in hopes to ease your nervousness. Part of him wished he said more, maybe told you that spending time with you was the best part of his day or that you were the reason he was getting out of bed most mornings, but it was too big of an admission. It could scare you away and that was the last thing he wanted. Before he had a chance to decide, the light turned and you stepped out onto the street. Bucky followed closely behind.  

The entrance to the park was bordered with a dark metal fence, an arch way carrying over the brick walkway decorated with flowers and vines. You crossed underneath, pausing to stare up the twisting of the leaved through the pattern in the arch, a delicate finger reaching out to touch the tip of a petal. You looked back at Bucky with a smile twice as wide on your face and he hung his head, a breath of a laugh in his chest.  

The park was mostly empty for a Sunday evening. The last remaining streams of sunlight lit up the greenery, touching over the flowers and the reflecting into the pond at the center where a family of ducks were waddling along the edge. You seemed to like that, watching how the babies followed the mama along the rim of the water. Bucky turned to his right to find you imitating their walk, chasing after them until they stepped into the water.  

Meanwhile, Bucky found a bench sitting under an old oak tree. Its branches hung draped over the bench enough to provide a shadow from the closing sun. It faced the west side of the park, where the sun was setting just over the tops of the buildings and illuminating the sky in brilliant shades of golden orange and vibrant reds.  

“You want to sit for a bit?” Bucky asked, gesturing to the bench. His feet were a little tired from walking through Brooklyn all day with the library, the VA, and now this. It was more than he usually did these days – not that he minded. He’d happily allow his legs to be a little sore if it meant more time with you. He’d walk through busy streets for miles if it was you he was walking towards.  

You plopped down on the bench on his right, sinking into the old wood. You glanced over at him, hiding behind a strand of hair that had fallen down into your face.  

“Thanks for amusing me.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, chuckling to himself. “You act like I don’t want to be here.”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, swinging your feet off the side of the bench. “It’s just... and I hope this isn’t a strange thing to say but... I just like spending time with you. Wanted a little more of it today, I suppose.”

Bucky swallowed, his throat feeling suddenly very dry. His heart stammered a bit inside his chest, butterflies causing chaos in his stomach, but it didn’t make him want to run. He felt no drive to escape, to push those sensations so far out of reach he turned back to the numbed and empty version of himself he’d been occupied by for months before he met you. They were frightening feelings, yes, but they were pleasant ones, ones he welcomed and invited inside.  

“You can have as much of my time as you want,” Bucky said as the words fell off his tongue. No filter, no second guessing. No chance to bite his tongue. You looked up at him with a kind of hope in your eyes that made his cheeks start to hurt from how much he was smiling.  

You settled back in on the bench, gazing up at the sunset as it lowered behind the buildings. Brush strokes of softer tones blended into the fading blues in the sky, giving way to the moon and stars as they emerged beyond the clouds.  

He glanced down at your hand as it rested on the bench by your thigh. There was hardly even a breath of air between his pinky to yours. You were so close; it would only take one instant of courage to bar the space between you.  

Be brave, Barnes.

Testing the waters, Bucky allowed the very edge of his fingers to brush over your knuckles. Your skin was softer than he’d remembered from that first handshake in the VA nearly a month earlier. He felt your breath hitch like a jolt of electricity had rushed though you, though you didn’t tear your eyes away from the sunset. Your thumb ran a tender line along his hand as you turned your palm up. Bucky swallowed.  

He slipped his hand into yours, curling his fingers to the space between your own, and for a moment he just let himself feel.

He felt for the slight give in your hand, the twitch in your movements as you settled in against him. He felt the gentle sway of your thumb as it painted a line along his, comforting sweeps like you were reminding him you were there. He felt the chill in your skin – cold hands, like he remembered from before – and the heat of his own.  

Then, your head on his shoulder. Your legs crossed towards him as you leaned in closer and he made no efforts to move. A gesture like that would have thrown him in a tailspin before he met you; to be this close to someone, to anyone, to sit in the vulnerability of allowing someone to know and feel him.  

He looked back up at the sunset. It had nearly dipped below the horizon now; only a few glimpses of color remaining in the sky and the shine of the lamppost just a few feet away.  

You sighed in a contented hum, circling your free hand to rest on the inside of his bicep, hooked around his arm. You held him against you like a teddy bear, just wanting to feel more of him. 

It was a strange sensation, he thought; this new urge to want to give you as much as his body could offer.  

[clementinesjourney]

Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do

A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Words: 1,9k

Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)

Warnings: nothing yet :)

Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..

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You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.

-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.

-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.

-Did you get the job?

-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.

-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.

-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?

-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.

-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?

-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..

After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.

You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.

-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.

-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?

-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?

-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.

-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.

- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?

-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).

-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.

-It's okay, i don't really...

-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.

-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.

-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.

-So thats about it, what do you think?

-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.

-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.

-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.

-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.

Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.

Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.

When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.

-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?

-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.

- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.

- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.

- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.

-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.

When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.

-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).

-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.

You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?

-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.

-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.

-Thank you very much.

Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.

With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.

You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.

After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...

[tommyspeakycap]

Painted Roses

jordan henderson x reader

word count - 2k I think

jordan takes you back to the place it all began as you expand your life together.

second part to Rose Garden

4 years to the date.

The country house with the long gravel road that lead up to the huge red brick cottage. The owner passed away over a year ago and their family, to Jordan’s utter shock, weren’t interested in maintaining the beautiful home as the wedding venue it had existed as in the past. The second he heard it was up for sale, he placed an offer and had the keys in the space of two weeks.

“Jordan where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He promises, giving your hand a gentle squeeze where it sat on top of your knee. The blindfold is making you sweat more than you already were. “I can’t see anything.” You note pointedly with a roll of your eyes behind the blindfold. Jordan chuckles heartily with what you can imagine in your mind is his signature smile, all white teeth and crinkled eyes. “You’ll love it,” he says through that smile, “I promise.” His hand pats your knee again as a silence falls between you.

Gravel crunches beneath the wheels of his fancy black Mercedes as the smell of cut grass and fresh flowers enters your nose and makes you grin subconsciously in a way you barely even notice. Jordan catches sight of that out the corner of his eye and his heart grows with joy in his chest. The slow, careful turn of his car, paired with the sound of his hands sliding along the leather of the wheel alert you to his parking. He does so with ease and you hear the keys jangling as he shuts off the engine.

“Wait here,” he instructs, climbing out his side with the door thrown shut behind him. He’s round at your side of the car before you have a chance to think up a cheeky retort. He’s gentle as he always is when he helps you out of the car carefully, wrapping one arm around your waist so you don’t fall. Admittedly, it doesn’t work very well because the ground beneath is so incredibly uneven, so when he gets to that first smooth grey cement step, he opts to simply scoop you up into his arms with ease.

“Okay,” he begins, placing you down as you feel the smooth material covering your eyes loosening and slipping from your face. His hands replace it for only a moment as he presses a kiss to the side of your head from behind you. “Open.”

You do as told and tears spring in place of his hands to blur your vision.

It’s beautiful.

It was that Victorian style country home that once acted as a wedding venue, redecorated to a minimum. “Wanted it to look nice for you, but so that you can give it your touch. You know better than me.” He admits sheepishly with a pink tint to his cheeks. You beam at him tearily, hands clasped together in sheer joy. “God Jordan, you shouldn’t have!” You exclaim, tears bleeding over your lash line. You knew how expensive these types of homes were, never mind ones so big with such history to them. It hadn’t even made much of a dent for Jordan really. He had more money than either of you could ever have spent and he likes to remind you of that to ensure you know full and well his gentle spoiling of you is not a hardship for him. He actively loves to do it.

“Take it as an anniversary present.” He shrugs, trying to fight at the smile that was tugging his lips. The warmth of your hug and the tears seeping through his white shirt was all a welcome to him no matter how hot it was outside. He could not wait to come home to this house, be welcomed home by you and hopefully some littler mixtures of you and him with your eyes and smile. “Makes my present look a little rubbish now,” you jest, making him chuckle heartily.

The house needed a fair bit of work. New flooring, new carpets, your furniture from home would do just fine but you reckon Jordan will be all for new stuff for a new home. A few new coats of paint and nice clear out, but all in it was still absolutely gorgeous.

“There is one room I really wanted to show you though, if that’s okay?” He asks, keeping his eyes trained down on the floor. You furrow your brows, but nod your head. “I gotta grab something from the car first though?” You hum, detangling your hand from his, “And pee.”

He tilts his head like a curious puppy. “Again? You went right before we left?” He queries. You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Since when do you question a woman’s toilet habits at that point in the month, Henderson?” You poke with a blush and a light giggle. He chuckles with you and holds up his hands in defeat, but the second your out of eye and earshot his shoulders fall and a sigh bursts out his lips. He wouldn’t let it show to you right now his disappointment. You hadn’t been trying long, but it was enough for him to be in the longing stage. Longing to see your swollen belly, longing to feel those tiny kicks against his hands and then hold his brand new baby for the first time, spend all those nights wide awake wishing for nothing but sleep while he cradled them through to the morning. You said it would happen when it happened, but it still ached with every negative test. Hearing you say you were on your period hurt a little more than he had anticipated, but he’s still heart set on showing what he had done with the short time he was able to keep this new home a secret.

You return with your handbag and take his hand. He is instinctive in those soft movements of his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s something he always does to sooth both you and him.

“So this is the master bedroom and I know it’s not quite good yet but I thought-“

“Jordan it’s beautiful,” you cut him off, your hand drifting out of his as you step in slowly. Being cautious of dust sheets and some tools, you walk into the massive room. You’d never been in a bedroom that big and it had blown you away. The huge bed, still with plastic attacked and tags on the mattress. The en-suite bathroom is marble worktops, one of those huge bathtubs and a walk in shower updated to a beautiful mixture of modernity and it’s antique homage. Tears are found again. The window gives a perfect view out the back of the house, rolling fields worth of garden space, loosely fenced in for acres into the distance. There’s a pond on the land a little to the left, not far at all that leads off towards the beginning of the hidden Rose Garden where you met Jordan 4 years ago today. All of that owned and shared by just you and the man you love. “Bloody hell, it’s so magnificent Jordan. I literally have no words.”

He beams shyly almost, “That’s how I feel about you.” He mumbles softly, almost too quiet for you to hear, like he didn’t want you to. “What’s through here?” You call behind you as he trails after you on anxious legs. You carry on through the very short pathway attached to the master bedroom that had some extra storage space. “Well uh..I haven’t finished that so maybe we should just an-“

“Oh my god.”

Jordan rubs nervously at the back of his throat as he enters into the connecting room behind you. His eyes take you in immediately, studying your features carefully. Your hands are clasped over your mouth with slow tears sliding down over your rosy cheeks. Your eyes are afire with love and happiness. “I know it’s weird but-“

“It’s perfect, Jordan.” You throw your arms around his neck, his arms finding you immediately as he buries his head into your shoulder.

It’s the only room with a new carpet yet. It’s soft beneath your shoes, a plush cream colour to match a white wall. The window on the back wall gives the same fantastic view you have in the master room. There’s a white crib pushed against the wall furthest from you with a mobile of twinkling toys dangling above and a baby changing table a little away from the top end of the crib stocked full of pampers and baby cream. In the right corner of the room just by the window is a white wooden rocking chair next to a little book shelf with baby books that had a couple plush teddies and a photo of you and Jordan 4 years ago sitting atop it. The other side corner is decked out with two beanbag seats, a soft baby mat and a bundle of all sorts of soft toys.

“Left that wall blank ‘cause I remember that day you told me you’d always wanted to paint it like the sky.” He recounts, pointing his finger at the wall that the crib was situated next to, making your head whip towards him. He had such a fantastic memory even for the little things you said, just like that. You barely even remember it, spoken under the stars as you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. It gives you no doubt about having kids with him, the thought of him remembering your babies favourite little treats or ineffective toddler secrets makes your heart soar with pride and joy. “Look closer at that.” He turns you round so your facing that wall again, the one with the little cosy corner.

Painted on the wall intricately above it is that rose arbor your stood underneath when he first laid his eyes on you. Where he first had that dance with you, where he told you he wanted to see you again. Where you snuck into when it was late, dark and only lit by those same fairly lights so he could tell you he loved you for the first time all those years ago. The roses are painted in perfect colour, careful and precise in the way they hung around you for that first ever dance you shared together. It’s so beautiful and so lifelike you that get lost in it, reliving the moment your world came together. Every time you sit there, it’ll be like sitting under real thing when you can’t take the baby out there.

“Well this makes my present a little more fitting, then.” You sniffle, letting Jordan swipe the tears gently off your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in a slow, loving motion. “What do you mean?” He asks, “I told you not to get me anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest as you rifle through your bag. “Okay okay, here. Open this.”

You hand over a small gift bag, one stuffed with tissue paper he has to tear through as you sit your bag down and wait, watching him with wide and watery eyes. He pulls out first the tiny little wad of fabric and places the gift bag on top of the white wooden dresser, carefully unravelling the rolled up clothes. “That’s bloody adorable.” He breathes out, trying to keep the tears he has inside his eyes to no avail. You wrap your arm around his back, rubbing his tight shoulders softly. “Look at the back.” You encourage, his eyes meet yours then look back to the tiny clothes.

HENDERSON

8

With a little picture taped carefully to the bottom that he peels off with shaky, tentative fingers. “No way!” He booms, jumping back from you in shock. He looks down at the picture, up at you, back down at the picture, then up at you again with tears slipping over his cheeks. “But you said-“

“It was a surprise!” You squeal back as he swoops forward and scoops you into his arms, spinning you around in glee. “So no food poising? And no period?” He giggled out like a schoolgirl in shock. You shake your head. “Morning sickness and just a diversion. We’re having a baby!”

“We’re having a baby!” He repeats, louder. His words bounce of the walls that can barely contain the happiness inside of them. Threatening to burst at the seams as it fills beyond belief. This room, though incomplete, is perfect. Because you are in it together. Here, together in each other’s arms sharing in joy just like you’ve both shared in pain, hurt, love, happiness, nerves and everything else along the way. Head on, together.

“And this,” Jordan holds up the little football strip with his name printed across the back, his england appointed number proudly underneath, “This is perfect. You,” he pauses, leaning forward to capture your lips in his, “Are perfect.” His hands wander down to your stomach, placed gently over where his pea sized baby currently exists, growing and feeding on the love he intends to drown them in just like he does to you, “Both of you…perfect.”

It is perfect, really. Your love is. Even when it isn’t, it is. When he’s gone too long and you can’t see him because of a pandemic; the effort is made, emotions are shared. He tells you he misses you and his ego is never too big for its space in your relationship. When the world is against him or when fate turns against you both, it’s in each other’s arms that you find solace even if space is needed first. There’s an understanding of the love you have. It’s special. The kind that only a lucky few seem to find these days, a one people can look at and spot from a mile away. It’s beautiful, it’s own space taking entity that makes you both target to significant teasing from friends and family alike. It’s perfect.

Even when you fight over what blue is better to represent the sky just because your pregnant and too hormonal to admit he’d found the right colour before you did. Even when he coats you in paint that ends in an all out paint war, thankful you both removed all the furniture before painting. Even when you sob as your body changes, with pregnant emotions skewing your mind and making you question whether he’ll ever be attracted to you again, he’ll remind you that he’s never been more attracted to you than now. Housing his child, taking the aches, the pains and the changes like a true champ while he can do nothing but rub your feet and buy you ridiculous quantities of Solero ice creams. He’ll remind you in more ways that one just how perfect you are to him. Love by it’s very nature is as messy as that paint fight. It’s up and down and all over the place all the time. But the kind of love that you and Jordan have is a special that doesn’t waver, doesn’t dull or dim or change through time.

If anything, each day he loves you more. Even if he was convinced it wasn’t possible. But then it just was. Seeing you red in the face with sweat dripping over your forehead and tears leaking from your squeezed shut eyes as your screams echo through the room. All he could do was coax and coach, trying to tell you how proud of you he was. Even when you screamed that you despised him, he laughed and told you to squeeze his hand a little harder. It hurt, but that was nothing compared to the pain that you were enduring from multiple areas of your body as that baby ripped through you to make her grand entrance to the world, kicking and screaming just like the fighter her mother was. He thought his heart might burst with the amount of love he has, surely that’s as good as it gets?

No. No, it gets better still.

Everyday it’s better. Better when he gets to watch that woman that he loves so much sing to his tiny baby daughter, rocking in that chair under the painted rose arbor as she feeds from you. The most beautiful, natural thing in the world and he is enthralled by it. Watching you giggle at her she coos up at you. Placing her down in the crib beneath the gentle jingling of the cloud themed mobile next to the pale, sky blue coloured wall, blossoms falling, trickling down through clouds from a painted blossom tree on the wall and rose petals in variations of pink and red along the bottom of the crib. Roses and rose petals just like the ones that surrounded you on the day you danced with each other in under the trees of the garden that summer night. Roses like the ones you stood under to profess your love for one another. Roses, like the ones he took a knee beside, beneath and with one in his hand to give to you as he asked for your hand. Roses like you would stand beneath with one pinned to the breast of his suit to say the vows that would tie you in law to one another and to give you his name. Roses like the ones painted on the far wall, still fresh when you shared the news of that baby girl’s existence. Roses that were such an important symbol of the love you shared, pure and beautiful, sometimes painful but always worth the fight. Those roses painted on that crib with space for just one word carved into the wood.

Rose.

Your own beautiful little Rose.