#shit. i cant handle two jobs. i can barley handle one job when i have one. Why am i so fucking lazy!!!!! Its my own hole and i just keep di

[theood]

Getting really tired how every time I mention talking to someone new my mom's like "omg lol! Move in with them! Lol! Have you thought about moving in with them? Lol? Will they take you? Lol. We're so tired of you complaining lol can you just move in with them? Lol!"

Like. Wow! I never fucking thought of that one! Damn mom! Wow!!!! Revolutionary.

It's so fucking annoying because if I COULD actually move out don't you think I would have done it now? Hell. I'd be towns away if I could. Anything to get out of this fucking house. Away from your parents. Away from the constant walking on eggshells I'm doing. Away from feeling like the only way I'll be safe is by ripping myself open until I'm raw and used. But I CAN'T.

And every fucking time like clockwork it's "oh move in with x lol!"

[toriwakes]

Pretty Boy 187 [s.r x reader]

summary: reader finds out that her new found tumblr crush is none other than her coworker.

content warnings: she/her!reader, mentions of alcohol

a/n: hi!! i’m so happy to be posting again. i’m really proud of this, so i hope you all like it! as always, let me know if you have any requests!

convincing spencer to get tumblr was tough. not only did he hate technology, he didn’t like social media either.

“it’s gonna be fun! c’mon, please?” you’ve been bugging him about it for about a week. “spencer, please just download it. if i have to hear (y/n) whine again i’m gonna loose it.” said derek, plopping is papers on his desk. “you like it when i whine.” you teased, causing derek to flash you a toothy grin. “alright! jeez.” you clapped of joy and jumped to help spencer, but he stopped you. “no way, i’m not letting you follow me.” he kept his phone facing away from you, your arms dropping to your sides in defeat. “fine. i’ll find your account somehow.” “we’ll see about that.”

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over the next few weeks you acquired a few new followers, only one catching your eye. ‘prettyboy187’ followed you on a quiet friday afternoon. the username caught your attention at first, but when you checked is profile? that’s when you were hooked. half of his pictures were just aesthetically pleasing: outside of his window, his extreme sugary coffee, some books. but others...

it was an excerpt of a poem and his hand was holding back the pages. you doubt he meant to capture it so beautifully. just his hand was godly. you wasted no time dming him.

hey :)

how desperate did you look right now? he followed you barley an hour ago. you cant stop staring at that picture.

hello

he didn’t sound happy. well, he didn’t “sound” anything, you guys were texting. but you could feel his tone through the screen. where you overthinking this too much? you shuffled into your bed, wrapping yourself in the covers as you pondered what to say next.

i just wanted to tell you i really like your account. are you a photographer or something?

no, i’m not. my friend convinced me to get this app and i noticed people post aesthetically pleasing photos on here, so i’m just doing the same haha.

ok, well you don’t post nice pictures. at least, not that type. maybe you’d post a picture of the snow or your bed, but every now and then you’d bless the feed with a picture of you in a swimsuit. it was more for opinions on the suit than anything else.

ohh. maybe i should start doing that.

how do you mean?

oh.

that sounded like a very judge-y ‘oh’. your eyes scanned your own profile to see what he could’ve hated. there was you in your favorite red swimsuit, a picture of your computer with netflix on the screen. the rest of the posts were of the same type, so you couldn’t pinpoint what the problem was.

what is it?

no, nothing. your recent picture. that’s a nice swim suit.

oh. that’s what he meant. you practically threw your phone across the room and squealed. thank the universe that he didn’t dislike you already. you shot him another text. just like that, you had your first ever tumblr crush.

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“what’s up with you pretty girl?” derek asked when you walked into work. you supposed you still had the blush on your face when pretty boy wished you a good morning and day at work. “nothing!” you said, obviously it being something. as if on cue, spencer walked in behind you also giddy. “what, you’re both sweet on someone now?” when neither of you responded, derek laughed. “what?” emily inquired, taking her seat. “spencer and (y/n) both have a crush.” emily’s jaw dropped. “spencer has a crush?” everyone broke into laughter, jj overhearing and almost dropping her files. “why is that so surprising?” spencer defended himself, derek giving him a ‘you know the answer to that’ look. “well?what’re their names?” he pushed. you bit your tongue. you didn’t even know his name. yikes. “let’s start.” aaron called. saved by hotch. thank goodness. “this ain’t over.” derek warned the two of you. yes it was. by the end of the day morgan would’ve forgotten all about this.

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you were right like always. morgan didn’t ask anymore about it, instead offering to get drinks. you turned it down, desperate to get home and text your boy. and you did, only at 11pm.

hey, sorry it’s so late. had a long day at work.

no worries, so did i. listen, i have a question.

this boy only sent messages that would make your heart drop. with a pacing heart, you texted back.

yes?

his ‘online’ button flashes on. then he was typing. then he was deleting. it seemed like hours before he responded.

what’s your name?

godamnit. you didnt have a display name because you didn’t want anyone you knew finding your account. what’s a fake name you can use? maybe...

lila.

why did you pick spencer’s ex’s name? you don’t know. you remember being insanely jealous of her because she got to kiss spencer in the pool while you were posted outside. your crush on spencer was still very much alive, but not as much as it was with pretty boy.

that’s a pretty name.

thanks. now you have to tell me yours ;)

you’ve never been so nervous for a text conversation in your life. for some reason, the back of your head wondered what it would be like if you were texting spencer. it was just a thought, though. spencer would never say half of this stuff.

call me morgan.

oh NO. please no... you stalked his profile again, terrified that you’ve been flirting with your coworker this past month. alas, your eye caught another body picture- this time of his arm. no tattoos like derek. not to mention he was much smaller. not that that’s a bad thing. you don’t think you’d ever be able to handle derek...

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you arrived at work yet again with a blushing face. “come on, you can’t keep hiding this from me! tell me something at least!” derek whined. “okay! his name is morgan. and i know what you’re thinking, and no, it’s not you, my boy is much more attractive.” derek’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape in fake offense. “that’s damn near impossible. ain’t nobody prettier than derek morgan.” spencer walked in now, again with a dorky smile on his face. “spencer. (y/n)’s got a crush on-“ you jumped to cover his mouth, the sound of your crush’s name muffled. “what- hey! no fair! derek gets to know but i cant?” spencer whined. derek held his hands up and sat back down, not wanting to get you mad. smart. “three can’t keep a secret.” was all you said before sitting down to clean your workspace.

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the new highlight of your day was texting morgan. you learned several things about him; he has a job he can’t specify for personal reasons, he really wants a dog but he feels like animals hate him. you told him about your cat joel, and how they could absolutely love him. he appreciated that.

if i tell you something, do you promise not to freak out?

depends. are you about to tell me you’re a serial killer?

no!

you giggled to yourself at your humor.

i wanna meet you.

you promised not to freak out, but you were freaking out. it was just now setting in that you didn’t know this man at all. where he lived, how old he was, even what he looked like. you took a few deep breaths and asked a question.

where do you live?

quantico virginia.

no hesitation on that one. he lived in the same town as you? you didn’t know how you’d be able to turn this down...

shit, me too. let’s meet up then.

i’ll send you a good place to get drinks.

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“every time you walk in here, you’re blushing. now so are your ears.” you beamed at derek, sitting at your desk before spilling. “i’m gonna meet him.” “wait what? are you sure that’s safe?” you rolled your eyes. “i’m an fbi agent. i’m not scared of a little danger.” you playfully winked and derek blew out a huff of air. “if anything happens, you know you can call me.” you pouted at your friend and nodded, appreciating his concern. spencer was spinning in his seat. “you happy too?” you asked. he only nodded and didn’t elaborate. you we’re going to press on, but hotch called you all in and you lost your chance.

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on rare occasions, the bau got tough cases with very happy endings. this was one of those cases. the plane ride home was extremely joyous and derek offered to get drinks again. this time, everyone accepted (all except hotch). you texted morgan telling him you were going out tonight and you wouldn’t be back till late. you laughed to yourself. it was like he was your boyfriend.

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the night was young and you were fairly tipsy. ok that’s generous, you were drunk. you were spending most of your time with penelope and it took you a minute to remember spencer. “ohmygosh! spence!” he was startled at your presence but he gave you that flat mouthed smile of his. “how are you! you’re my favorite scorpio.” you nodded as you said it, as if trying to convince him it was true. “thanks? i’m good. you’re drunk.” he pointed out. “no shit. hey!!! you never showed me your tumblr user! you gotta show me that girl you like, bet you she’s really sexy.” you didn’t even know what you were saying at this point, whipping out your phone and snapping a picture with spencer. “what are you doing?” he asked, watching you type. “posting this on tumblr! i want everyone to know you’re my favorite in the world.” he wanted to ask favorite what, but a ping on his phone distracted him. lila posted. he smiled and checked her page.

holy fuck.

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“(y/n)?” he asked, not looking away from his phone. “yess?” you responded. “what’s your tumblr?” what is your tumblr? “uhhh..i don’t know, check.” you tossed him your open phone, and his eyes only grew wider. “you’re lila?” the words rang through your ears like a siren. “what?” the word was breathy, you couldn’t add stability to what you said. spencer showed you his phone, ‘prettyboy187’ on the screen. “you’re morgan?” still no confidence in your voice whatsoever. your feelings were supposed to change, you weren’t supposed to like that morgan was spencer. but they didn’t. you didn’t even think about the fact he saw your swimsuit photos. you loved that morgan was spencer, and you still wanted to see him on the weekend. “are you mad?” you asked, not being able to stop yourself from sipping from your glass. “no. should i be?” you smiled. “no. do you still wanna meet up this weekend?” “yes. but i don’t wanna get drinks.” he wasn’t even drinking, why is he complaining. “where should we go then?” “my house.”

[geminimoonbeamx]

Sugar Rush: Part One

A/N: So I’ve kind of been dying to write any kind of Sub!Sebastian story for ages. Just because I’m obsessed with reading Stucky stories(porn) and more often then not he’s a bottom and I live for that shit. So I thought I’d try my hand at writing some real kinky shit. Also if you guys haven’t read Suga Mama by Emotchalla, please fucking do. Her story along with the massive amount of Sugar baby Stucky fics are why this idea has seeded itself into my brain and wont go away.

Also- I don’t have time to be writing another 25 chapter story lol. So this fic is going to be paced kind of fast, and at some points be one shots that are barley connected. Kind of just a way to get out my fantasies- no novels here.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: As with all of my stories there’s a permanent warning of cursing. I have a mouth like a sailor and express myself through the word fuck.

Summary: Bucky is a College student in his early twenties who seems to be drowning in the struggle of adulthood. When he meets Y/N, a well off Magazine CEO and gets the proposition of a lifetime, he takes on a title he never even could have imagined. Sugar Baby.

Bucky Barnes was no stranger to hard work. To the struggles of life.

He, along with his little sister Rebecca, had been in and out of the system up until he was nine; group homes and foster care were things that he was familiarized with at a young age. But so were heroine needles and that look that junkies get in there eye when the were high- he’d take sleeping in a clean bed in orphanage over listening to his mother tweak in the next room any day. He’d been adopted by George and Winifred Barnes two months shy of his tenth birthday, and they were the best people he’d ever met. Kind, and loving. He truly believes that they were heaven sent(if you tasted Winnie Barnes’ country fried steak, you’d think the same) but it’s not as though his life was suddenly a cake walk. He grew up the eldest of five- four younger sisters.

Yeah, if that sounds a little hellish, that’s because it was. He loved those little brats with all his heart, but damn, had they forced him into the “mature older brother” role.

He’d done well in High School- both athletically and academically. Played Varsity baseball and stayed on the honor roll all four years. Was it hard? Balancing the two along with his flourishing social life(because everyone love Bucky, that’s just how it went)? Yeah, maybe. But he did it.

…The hardest, most unexpected endeavor that he’d ever have to face came when he was eighteen- the car accident. The one that had left him mangled and broken. So fucked up- no one ever knew if he’d be able to recover-

But guess what? He had.

He liked to think his best personality trait was resilience. Throw anything at him. Any-fucking-thing. And he’d endure it, and bounce back.

But being a college student, living in New York City? Now this was some rough shit. If he wasn’t working at one of his two jobs, the ones that barley covered his rent, phone bill and tuition payments- he was in school. Studying his ass off, desperately attempting to get his degree. He barley had money for food most of the time. Thank fuck that he and his roomates had a “grocery jar” that they all contributed too- or else he surely would have starved. His diet consisted mostly of frozen foods and PBJ’s

He was living that early twenties struggle. The one that he knew everyone had to go through- to build character and all that. But fuck, was it killing him.

He was running on fumes, which wasn’t out of the norm, but still was starting to take it’s toll as he shook a bag of Cheddar Ruffles into his mouth. Breakfast of champions. He was listening to his roomates as he clambered around the kitchen, only having five or so minutes to spare before he had to go catch the subway and get to school.

It was a discussion they’d been stressing over heavily as of late.

Steve had moved out a month prior, finally taking the next step with his long time boyfriend, Sam- and Bucky was happy for him.

“Finally, punk” He’d grinned and slapped the back of his friends head. would he miss him? Yeah, he would. Bucky had a lot of friends- but Steve was his best friend. His first friend. But times changed, and they were getting older and Steve still lived in Brooklyn, so there really wasn’t nothing to spill tears over.

Except for the fact that now, they had to figure out how to cover that missing gap of rent.

There was still him, Scott and Clint- and now he had his own room(which he’d won fair and square in an arm wrestle, thank you very fuckin’ much) but making the nearly two thousand dollar rent payment every month was going to be harder. And it had them all on edge.

“I’ll pick up some more shifts at the café” Bucky deducts, chugging down the rest of his coffee.

“And how are you gonna’ do that? And go to school? What are you gonna’ do? Astral Project?” Clint gave him a dead pan look and Bucky shrugged. He’d do what he had to.

“How fucking cool would that be though? If you could really, you know, like astral project…why are you guys looking at me like that?” Scott ended his sentence defensively as both Bucky and Clint stared at him pointedly. Bucky with a hint of amusement, and Clint with his arms folded across his chest.

Scott was most definitely the child of the group. The one that you found passed out in the bushes at parties…which was why when they’d found out his ex girlfriend was pregnant a few years ago- they’d all, to be frankly honest, had been fucking terrified for him. He was actually a pretty decent father though. His daughter spent one weekend a month with them, and Bucky thought she was just about the cutest thing ever.

“Can you take this seriously for a second, man” Clint stressed and Bucky just sighed and grabbed his back pack. He really couldn’t handle anymore stress at the moment and he was kind of happy he had to be at his 9 o'clock lecture. At least he could escape this conversation.

“It’ll be fine, okay guys? We’ll figure it out. Don’t stress it so bad” He soothes as he walks past them, giving them each a pat on the shoulder.

“We’re going to have to become strippers! You do realize that, right?” Clint calls to him as he’s half way out of the door and he chuckles.

“Well I do have the ass for it” is Bucky’s parting statement.

The trek across the city, to NYU was as it always was. He spent it on the subway, his head phones blaring in his ears as he went over his homework and got a little more studying in, even though his eyes kept crossing from exhaustion.

He really was considering Clint’s suggestion- stripping didn’t sound so bad right now. If not for his scarred up arm, he probably would have done it ages ago. Because Bucky wasn’t a judgmental prick, and he considered strippers and sex workers as just that- workers. People trying to get by. He didn’t really care how people got their money.

He rushed across campus and managed to make it to his Poly Sci class not only on time, but early. He knew it’d earn him some brownie points with Professor Xavier. He was unpacking his laptop- which was horribly outdated, and his text books when you walked in. He’d been looking up at someone passing by his desk when he’d first laid eyes on you. It wasn’t the way you looked, although he cant deny, you looked damn good. With your sleek black pant suit that clings to your curves(and you’re nothing but curves) and bag hanging on your arm. Your makeup done impeccably and your hair shiny- you looked expensive. Well manicured. You looked like money.

No; it was more the way you carried yourself. The confidence in your strut. The way that you held your chin high, and not in a douche arrogant way…but more in an elegant self assured way. He cant help but watch you, the way that you smile brightly and give Professor X a warm hand shake, squeezing his with both of yours. When you’re introduced to the class as the guest speaker the professor had invited, Bucky grins.

“This is Y/N Y/L/N, a former pupil of mine. Former writer for the New York Post and current Editor and Chief of S.H.I.E.L.D Magazine”

Ahh, so you didn’t just look like money. You were made of it.

S.H.I.E.L.D was a global Magazine- a household name. One that covered most everything; entertainment. Fashion. Politics. He found himself flipping through one almost every day at work.

Listening to your speech was almost hypnotic. You were humble, and yet commanded the room. He learned that at the ripe age of 32, you were the magazines youngest ever Editor and that you’d worked tooth and nail to get there. You talked about the importance of public relations, and knowing what was going on in the world- no matter what subject one might go into. Covered the best ways to get into any business-

“Persistence!” You’d encouraged with a smile “I mean excuse my French, but annoy the shit out of them! Make yourselves memorable. Don’t be afraid to break away from the norm, because the most special parts of you- the ones that will get you places- are buried under your insecurities”

It was honestly one of the most interesting, engaging classes Bucky had ever sat in. You gave real tips, talked about real life in a way that was so blunt; it was refreshing. At the end, right before you were set to end your discussion, you took questions.

You were answering a girl who sat next to his question about you’re travels while writing when you catch him staring at you.

It’s a hot gaze. A heavy one. His gunpowder eyes seem to…look deep into you. Set you alight from the inside out. When you meet the gaze, boldly meeting his eyes its like…

Fuck.

It’s like nothing Bucky has ever experienced. He wants to crawl out of his skin, wants to crawl to you. Wants to taste what that gaze promises. It feels like it lasts an eternity, but really its only a few fleeting moments, before you break the stare. He feels like something inside of him breaks too, as you look away. As he packs his things back up into his book bag. As the bell chimes singling the end of the period and he leaves the classroom room.

He knows he’ll probably never see you again and that thought alone upsets him way more then it should. He hadn’t even said a word to you. Why was he such a fucking idiot? He should have asked a question- or something. As he goes on with the rest of the day, he finds himself unable to keep you out of his mind. You keep popping up. You’re pearly smile. You’re E/C eyes, and those lush lashes that framed them. He’s drifting into the thought of you as he works; making coffee for teachers and students alike.

He works at one of the many campus cafes’ part time, and today he’s behind the coffee bar. He doesn’t mind it, he actually likes barista-ing. The business of it makes time go by faster. Because everyone needs their caffeine fix, there’s never really a slow moment. He’s always busy. Which is why he doesn’t notice you when you walk in. Doesn’t even realize you’re there until you’re right in front of him, next in line.

He almost chokes on his fucking tongue.

“Um- Hey. Hi” Smooth, Bucky- he hisses at himself in his mind.

Your lips widen, grinning in recognition and his stomach flip flops.

“Hello again” You greet him, trying to reel in your own shock. What kind of fucking serendipity was this? After the entire day of giving your guest speech to class after class- you couldn’t get the stormy eyes out of your head. And now here he was. About to make your coffee. “Fancy meeting you here-” your eyes peel for his name tag.

“Bucky” He inturupts with a nervous little smile.

“Bucky? Hmm” You roll his name over in your mouth. Tasting it. He watches his name slip from between your lips and he can feel a twitch in his black work slacks.

“I like it” you decide and he chuckles and thanks you, telling you he was pretty fond of it himself.

“Well, what can I get you?”

“A large, iced skinny white chocolate mocha with extra whip, please- And what’s good to snack on here?” your eyes scan the large, clear display box full of goodies an Bucky’s more then happy to help you. Anything- to keep talking to you. You end up on a ham and cheddar bagel- he says he can testify to their delicacy. He ate two every day-

“You’re in pretty good shape for treating bagels like their own food group” You teased, but only party. He was gorgeously built- not “body builder bulky” but tall and broad shouldered, his biceps prominent under the long sleeves he wore. You wanted to bite them.

“I work at a gym part time” He chuckles back as he runs your platinum card “Gotta at least try to look the part”

He obviously misses your ogling as you give a relaxed hum in response, taking your purchases and shooting him one last heart stopping smile and goodbye as you retreat. Everything inside of him screams in fear, and its so confusing. Because he had just met you, had maybe said a dozen words to you, and yet he’s terrified of you walking out of the door and him never seeing you again. It’s that same alarm going off on his head as earlier after class. He’s relieved when you choose, instead of leaving, to take a table in the back corner of the café.

“Okay, who the fuck is that? And why did she make you react like a twelve year old boy?” Darcy, one of his co-workers, asks. Her thin, dark brow raised and her pouty lips pulled into a shit eating grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”- he almost face palms at that. At how childish and unbelievable he sounds.

“Um H-H-Hey. Hi. Hello” She snarks, teasing on the way that he had greeted you and he bumps his shoulder to hers lightly, telling her to fuck off under his breath as he goes onto another costumer. Happy for the distraction.

You sit in that little café for far too long. Sipping on your iced coffee until it’s nothing but ice. Nibbling on the ham and cheese bagel- he was right it’s delicious. You pull out your tablet and get some work done- making sure that everything’s going smoothly. Checking in with your assistant. You sit there for almost an hour before you’re forced to leave and you cant help but feel a little huffy. Why hadn’t he come up to you? You can feel that intense stare of his on you. You don’t have the time to wait for him- and yet the idea of never seeing his handsome face is not something you’re willing to face. So you reach into your bag, and pull out one of your business cards and a pen.

Bucky cant seen to take his eyes off you for more then a few minutes at a time- its like you’re magnetic. The way your hair falls around your face, the way you cross your thick thighs. He adverts his eyes every time he feels like he’s about to get caught though. Darcy’s right. He’s being a twelve year old boy.

When you walk over to him, your red bottomed heels clicking, his head snaps up.

“Thanks for the bagel. It was delicious” You grin as you slide a bill and a card across the counter to him. His eyebrows pull together.

“What’s this?”

“A tip” You shrug…“It was really nice to meet you, Bucky” You purr, looking at him pointedly before you’re walking out of the door. He’s glued to the sight of your wide ass in those tailored pants for a moment- before he’s looking down at the paper in his hands.

His eyes widen, to an almost comical degree as he takes in the cash. You’d left him a two hundred dollar tip! Two fucking hundred dollar pills, crisp and neat sit under your business card. Which has your name and number printed on it in elegant scroll. He flips it over and is surprised to see there’s more.

-I know how hard tuition can get and working two jobs cant be easy.

I’d love to help, handsome. Give me a call sometime- xoxo, Y/N-

He cant believe what he’s looking at, he cant seem to draw air into his lungs to clear his head as he stares at your loopy, cursive hand writing. We’re you insinuating what he thought you were?

“Oh my god, you lucky bitch” Darcy’s voice comes from over his shoulder as she also stares down at what he’d been left “If you don’t call her, give me her number so I can!”

The first person Bucky actually does call, once he’s home and in the sanctuary of his room is Steve. Because Steve is his best friend, and Steve will know what to do with this information.

Of course, the asshole laughs at him for the first five minutes of the conversation. Until Bucky is huffing and threatening to hang up.

“I’m sorry, Buck. It just reminds me of when Mrs. Levinstien used to only pay you to mow her lawn. That dirty old lady had the hots for you so bad” Steve chuckles in defensive and Bucky grimaces at the memory.

“She’s not like that, though, Steve. She’s- she’s fucking beautiful, and successful and sexy. You should have seen her man” Bucky trails a hand through his hair as he thinks back at his interactions with you, and the mark your presence had left on him.

“Then what’s the problem?” That’s Sam who replies and Bucky rolls his eyes. Of course Steve would have him on speaker phone. Him and same we’re like connected by the tip of their dicks, so he was used to it.

“The problem with him pimping himself out?” Steve’s voice came out incredulous over the receiver.

“I mean, he already seems to like this girl. So he get to be with her and be paid for it? That doesn’t sound like a bad deal to me” Sam argues and they’re just making Bucky’s tired head ache.

“All I’m saying is that working those two jobs obviously aint cutting for you man. Call her. What’s the worst that could happen? You get to see a girl who you obviously have the hots for again? If you’re not into it, just leave. Its that simple” And when Sam say’s it like that, it really does click into place. It really does seem that simple. Even with Steve insisting that she could be a serial killer.

Bucky takes the night to sleep on it. He dreams of your lips, dreams of fucking that pretty mouth that seemed to spew nothing but charm of intelligence. Dreams of you sucking and sucking until he’s screaming. He hasn’t come so hard in his pants since he ACTUALLY was twelve. He wakes up to stickiness in his boxers and his cock pulsating and he knows he has to call you.

Why he’s so nervous? He doesn’t know…he keeps making excuses. Maybe you’d changed your mind over night? Maybe you we’re too busy to take his call…he finally musters up the balls after he’s getting off of his job at the gym a few days later, the sun setting on the city. It only rings twice before you pick up and he’s greeted with your bell chim like voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N speaking”

“Hey” His voice is too deep, gravely, but he cant help it. He’s nervous “This is Bucky- from school. I mean from the university- that you lectured at the other day-”

Why? Why does all cognitive thought leave him when he attempts to talk to you?

“Bucky, huh? I was starting to think you we’re going to call me” You tease him, but he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’ve been really busy” He lies- he’d just been a chicken shit.

“Mmhm” You don’t sound amused by that “We’re all busy people, and time is of the essence. I knew I should have gotten your number”

He chuckles at your directness “Now you have it”

“So I do. What should I do with it, hmm?”

“I don’t know… You tell me” He feels a little idiotic saying it, but he’s truly curious to what happens next.

“Why don’t you let me take you to dinner?” You’re nearly purring again and Bucky has to bite his lip to keep himself at bay. You were so straight forward, so unlike any of the girls he’d ever come into contact with in the past.

“Really?” He’s never let any one take him out to dinner. He was always the one to ask, to lead. But he had all of twenty dollars in his bank account(that two hundred you’d given him had gone to his part of the utility bill) and honestly, he wasn’t sure how he was going to stretch it til’ his next paycheck. Even if he wanted to be the one to take you out, to wine and dine you, he couldn’t.

“Mmhmm, really. Are you free Friday- at eight?”

“Um yeah, that could work” He was supposed to be working at the café that night, but he’d have someone cover him.

“Alright. Do you like Cajun food, there’s a new restaurant that opened in SOHO that I’ve been meaning to check out”

He liked any food that didn’t come out of his freezer, and so he agrees eagerly. You tell him to send you his address so that you can send for him, and he only faintly tries to protest, you reassure him that it would really be no problem.

“‘Kay then, it’s a date. I’ll see you then”

“I can’t wait” He’s overly eager, he can hear it in his own tone but the giggle you let out is warm and seeps into his bones instead of embarrassing him.

“Me neither. Have a good rest of your day, Bucky” and then you click end and he stands in the middle of the busy side walk, his phone still pressed against his ear. He feels hot all, the butterflies ricocheting in his stomach. He swallows it, pushes it down, feeling ridiculous and “unmanly” for the affect you have on him as he pushes on down the street.

Yeah, Bucky’s struggled.

But things seem like they may just be looking up.

@buchonians @papi-chulo-bucky @geekyweed @4theluvofall @peacefulwriter88 @missrobyn81 @prettybubblesintheair @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @papi-chulo-seb @shayla-markele @thatawkwardtinyperson @docharleythegeekqueen 

Okay ya’ll let me warn you now this one is going to be KINKY as a motherfucker. Prepare yourselves. And let me know if you’d like to be tagged for this little series!

[canaryboots]

makori fic - aye aye captain (by mE)

@celesterial-howell, @maddieb123789, @stalkingmakori enjoy ;)

when ori first stepped aboard the ship that would be her home for the next few months, she was feeling a bit queasy.

the day before, she’d sat next to her packed suitcase, staring at her purple wall, as thought after thought zoomed in her head, each one bringing new worries and doubts to her attention. one side, the dominant one, called for her to not board the ship tomorrow and instead flee the city and join her aunt in the hills. the other side chided her saying that ‘every time before you join a new ship this happens to you, and every time you have a good time on the ship and don’t mess up your job.’ ‘but’, the opposite side argued, ‘what if this time you do mess up and because of you the ship will malfunction. what if it’ll be like titanic and you’ll drown among all the other passengers. what if the captain’s a complete phsycho and you’ll be treated terribly. what if you-‘ “oh shut up”, ori mumbled, crawling into bed and burying her head in her pillow. she tossed and turned the whole night until she decided she wouldn’t be getting any sleep and opened her eyes, the moons light momentarily blinding her. she stood up, only to get tangled in her sheets and fell face first onto the hard wooden floor.

cursing under her breath she flicked the light switch and carried her tool box to the middle of the room and sat cross-legged, facing it. stroking the dodie yellow box fondly, she pressed the orange button and the lid popped open. the manager had called her earlier that week to tell her that she didn’t need to bring her tools since they had more then enough for her, but ori couldn’t imagine leaving hers at home. wrapping her right hand around the hard metal handle of her screw driver, she looked around for something she could tinker with. her eyes lit up as she noticed the creaking coming from her roommates door. taking the tool box with her, she walked over to Ben’s room and started working on the door. ‘thank god he’s out of town tonight’ she thought, ‘he would freak out if he knew i was still awake.’ she appreciated Ben’s brotherly affection towards her but sometimes it was too much, ‘he acts as if I’m four when I’m actually just a year younger then him.’

as the sun rose in the sky and the birds announced the start of a new day, ori found it easier and easier to push her worries to the back of her head. it was only when she got out of the taxi and stood, suitcase in hand, on the ships big polished deck, did she feel the doubts flood through her body, taking over all her senses. “run! go!” her brain shouted, “you cant mess up your job if you don’t board the ship!” another voice called, “if you go now you could probably still catch a taxi and be home on time for the yuri on ice marathon” another voice reasoned. she was halfway off the ship when she felt a hand on her shoulder. turning around she felt her cheeks getting redder then they already were. “you must be the engineer, ori right?” the woman said, smiling. ‘i would do anything to make her smile again,’ ori thought, grinning stupidly. “yup thats me!” ori replied, trying to sound smooth, “and you must be the captain” “thats me,” the woman replied, “come with me, i’ll show you around.” the captain placed her hand on ori’s back and steered her back onto the deck. ori was used to getting flustered by pretty woman, she had long ago realised she was the gayest lesbian on the block. the tour around the ship took no more then 20 min, but ori relished every bit of it. when they finally got out of the kitchen, the captain had insisted on ori trying the chocolate cake and blueberry muffins she had helped bake, she lead ori to her room, at the bottom of the ship next to the engine room. “-and this is where you’ll be sleeping,” she said, opening the cabin door with a flourish. “you don’t know what i had to go through to get you this mini fridge,” she sighed, pointing at the white fridge in the corner, “i filled it with drinks and snacks so you won’t have to go up to the kitchen every time you’re hungry.” “oh wow, thank you“ ori said, sparing a glance at the captains outfit where a little blue name tag sat. ‘matilda’ it read, ‘what a perfect name for her’ ori thought, rolling the word around her head. ma-til-da. m-a-t-i-l-d-a. it felt good. glancing at the small gold watch on her wrist matilda exclaimed, “oh shit! i should be on the deck now greeting the passengers, you can walk around the ship, or stay in your room and unpack, or familiarise yourself with the engine room, or” matilda was babbling, trying to make their conversation last a bit longer. “okay, i think i’ll unpack first and then check out the engine room, thanks” ori replied, lifting her eyes up to matilda’s. their eyes locked and they stood, silent, with baited breaths. “well,” matilda declared, clearing her throught, “i should go, i shouldn’t keep the passengers waiting,” “yeah,” ori agreed, letting her eyes drop from matilda’s. the cabin was hardly big enough for the both of them, matilda barley had to walk four steps to get to the door. resting her palm on the polished gold handle, she turned around with a glint in her eye. “dinner’s at 7pm, wait for me near the kitchen at 6:30, okay?” matilda was surprised at how smooth she sounded. “oh, sure!” ori stammered, turning bright red. with a wink matilda shut the door and walked out, not even trying to hide her excitement.

ori sat on the warm metal floor of the engine room. the familiar noises of the machines soothed her and made her feel at home. her suitcase lay half unpacked in her cabin, she was too nervous and jittery to properly finish unpacking. every few minutes she would check the small clock in the corner, partially hidden by the many wires and metal tubes. 4:09, 4:37, 5:02, 5:26, finally she gave up trying to distract herself and, before quickly making sure that everything was properly functioning, went back to her cabin to find an outfit. usually the ships she boarded were captained by middle aged men who acted like they knew everything and as if ori was a prize they could single handedly win, so she had given up long ago on trying to dress to impress. her clothing options went from sweatpants and sweaters to pyjamas, and, if she was feeling scandalous, maybe a pair of tights and a tank top. finally she decided on casual, but not too casual. black tights, tight fitting black tank top, blue combat boots and her blue flower crown. standing in front of her mirror she pushed away all her negative thoughts that appeared when she saw her reflection, and attempted to comb her hair and make her face look some-what presentable. checking the clock one last time, 5:57, she grabbed a jacket and made her way to the kitchen.

matilda was restless. she had known this girl for less then two hours and yet she couldn’t wait to see her again. for the first time since she had started her job as the captain of the ship, she wished that she could take off her outfit and wear something different. she wore black tights under her white and gold uniform and put on her favourite rose quartz necklace. her pretty chocolate hair rested on her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. she checked her watch again, 5:56, four more minutes. three more minutes, two more minutes, when suddenly ori peered around the corner. composing herself, matilda walked towards her, her face matching the wide dazzling grin that ori wore. “about time, i was starting to think you’d be late.” “me? oh no I’m never late” ori replied, her voice dripping in sarcasm. matilda laughed despite herself, linking her arm in the younger girl’s, leading her out to one of the many balconys. “this is why i asked you to come so early,” she explained, “i wouldn’t want you to miss the view” the wind was picking up and matilda’s hair was flying all over her face, knotting it up, but she couldn’t have cared less. “wow.” ori whispered, letting go of matilda and leaning on the railing. matilda joined her and they both stood silently admiring the view. tearing her eyes from the setting sun, ori glanced at matilda. her eyes were swimming in different shades of blues and yellows and pinks from the sun and her hair was blowing everywhere. her black glasses sat slightly askew and ori felt the need to reach out and straighten them, any excuse to touch her face and feel her hair on her skin. she felt the doubts and worries come out from their hiding place but she pushed them back, she wouldn’t let them ruin this fairytale evening. ori reached out her hand and gently fixed the captain’s glasses, then tucked a piece of soft hair behind her ear. matilda turned and smiled at ori, resting her hand on the other girl’s. their silence was broken by the loud voices of the passengers making their way up to dinner. couples talking, friends laughing, kids shouting, babies crying. “MADISON!” one parent shouted, running after a toddler who was giggling and pointing at the two girls standing on the balcony, hands touching, mouths smiling. “i think that baby likes us.” matilda said, as she and ori dropped their hands simultaneously. “who wouldn’t?” ori replied, laughing and slipping her hand into the captains. “lets go have dinner” “aye aye captain”