#something tells me buck’s luck is running real low…

[coupleofguys]

bucky: *flips a coin*

sam: well?

bucky, disappointed once again: what was your plan again?

zemo, from the couch: called it!

[hippolotamus]

✨2023 writing round-up✨

Writing Round-Up: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones your most excited about.

2023 saw me writing a lot of unexpected and new things! It's been a unique year in the Hippoverse to say the least. Going to highlight some of my favs as well as things that never made it to AO3 💖 Putting it all under the cut to save your dash 😘

January

you spoke to me so sweetly | 2.6k | E (Twylexis)

aka the fic I wrote before shit got real

Alexis hums her appreciation, letting her eyes fall closed while Twyla repeats the circuitous route, and breathing in the blend of lavender and lemon oil her wife insisted upon for “calm and good luck”. The temporary serenity only lasts for three or four passes until a light knock at the door interrupts. She doesn’t try to hide her instant pout when the gentle pressure disappears and she’s forced to open her eyes again. Dr. Rist breezes inside, far too perky in Alexis’s opinion. Perhaps it’s a good sign. Despite her nerves, Alexis plasters her PR smile on, and clasps Twyla’s hand – the only tell she’ll allow to indicate she’s worried while they wait to find out what kind of life changing the appointment will be. “Well,” Dr. Rist says. “Alexis. Twyla. Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s begin, shall we?”

tumblr prompt fill for but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new years day featuring David and Stevie -

Stevie turns her head and he’s very uninterested in the look on her face, what it might mean. He’s only seen it once before - in the low light of her messy apartment - which is why he’s positive she’s about to drop a bomb on him. Something that preemptively makes his insides twist. It’s too much for getting high and laying out on the roof of the high school.

March

all in the Jee-tails | 4.5k | T (Buddie)

Okay. Just a little turn aaaand- yes. Alright, only one more to go. You got this, Buckley. Buck watches with fascination as the sewing machine’s needle dips and resurfaces, piercing the shimmery blue fabric. A wave of satisfaction and pride washes over him when the final stitches meet seamlessly with the beginning ones. For only putting in minimal effort during Family & Consumer Sciences, he’s impressed with his handiwork. He eases his foot off the pedal and snips the thread, freeing his creation so he can try it on. Ever since Jee watched Sleeping Beauty and Shrek for the first time she’s become obsessed with all things fantasy. Much to Maddie, Chim and Eddie’s amusement, Buck couldn’t help himself from buying her a sparkly dress (or three), as well as a tiara fit for pint-sized royalty. Of course, once she had her clothes to play dress up, she needed a fearsome beast to battle. And, well, how was Buck supposed to be an effective dragon without his own wings? OR There is a Princess, Knight, Dragon, Wizard and Damsel in Distress and there is nothing Uncle Buck won't do for his niece.

NGL I absolutely adore this one. I had a blast writing it and assigning roles to the Han-Buckley-Diaz family.

I'm reaching for you, terrified | Buddie tumblr post

I’m leaving the 118. Buck has had his oxygen tank run out, he’s been caught in more natural disasters than he’d prefer, and trapped under a ladder truck. Among other things. Those agonizing memories pale in comparison to what he feels now, hearing Eddie’s announcement. He’s a mix of breathless and numb and tingling pinpricks dancing over his skin. Of too much and not enough and loss. 

May

I know all your secrets | 4.6k | E (David/Patrick)

A fic I originally published in 2022 but added a much needed chapter to

Patrick grins, noting the warm, spicy scent filling the spaces between them. It should make him wary, but that sensation stopped long ago, replaced by want and lust. “Rose, we meet again.” “So we do,” David purrs in response. “I hope you’ve been well since Denmark.” Patrick traces a finger over the curves he’s become so accustomed to, feeling the sleek mother-of-pearl buttons under his skin until he hooks onto the V of the single-breasted tuxedo jacket. “Never better. Should we exchange the usual my country wants you dead pleasantries first or is foreplay off the menu tonight?” or the AU where Agents Brewer and Rose are rival spies who can't seem to stay away from each other

June

the only thing that matters now (is everything) | 882 | G (Twylexis)

aka the fic I wrote after shit got real

Alexis combs her fingers through her hair, letting manicured nails lightly scratch along her scalp while she stares at the ceiling. Golden wavy strands glide between her fingertips before dropping back to the pillow, a feeling she wants to take advantage of while she can. The self-soothing act had always calmed her as a little girl. Tonight she’s not exactly troubled, but ever since the tests came back, and the immediate future is wrapped in so much uncertainty, she’s found herself doing it more often. Beyond the sliver of moonlight spilling through the window, painting an ethereal line across the carpet and over the blankets, she doesn’t know what time it is. Only that it’s still night, and dawn could be minutes or hours away. Patrick, with all his lil’ nature skills, would probably know without having to look at a clock. She’ll have to ask next time they talk. ---------------------- A future fic that leaves Alexis pondering life put on hold by the unexpected

October

A lil teen Eddie sneaking out to look at the stars tumblr post

November

if this love is pain (let's hurt tonight) | 3.2k | T Buddie

a foray into angsty writing

Eddie knows it’s him immediately. Feels the weight of his presence like a favorite coat that doesn’t quite fit anymore. Of course he does. Try as he might, Eddie will never not know when Buck is nearby. They are too intertwined. Had become too embedded in each other’s lives before- well, before everything. Before death doulas and school projects, lightning strikes and gunshots, poker games and treasure hunts. Long before Christopher graduated high school, Bobby retired and Hen became captain, and Buck… disappeared. One day he and Buck were moving Christopher into his dorm room, laughing and making plans to send care packages from themselves and Tía Pepa. And the next Eddie felt like he was reliving I need some time too all over again. OR After Chris leaves for college Buck mysteriously disappears. Five years later he finally returns with some answers.

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) | 1.8k | E Lutalia

baby's first Lutalia fic!

This – laying around cuddling after sex – isn’t their usual arrangement. Not like they have a usual arrangement. The only constant is one of them needing to blow off some steam and sending a text that sometimes only consists of a question mark. Then they fuck wherever is most convenient, whether that’s a car, motel room or, on at least one occasion, Nat’s office. Once in a while, like tonight, they both have the time and coordination to meet at one of their apartments, although it’s a scenario they tend to use infrequently for the purposes of keeping things casual. OR Natalia helps soothe Lucy after a rough shift

December

Buddie-ish prompt fill for @steadfastsaturnsrings - Eddie doesn’t remember hanging up the phone, or locking the door. He doesn’t remember grabbing the baseball bat that he keeps under his bed in case someone breaks in. Or where his reign of terror began. He supposes he swung for the first thing within reach and didn’t stop until there was nothing left his brain recognized as destructible. 

Buddie prompt fill for @statueinthestone (also added to the WIP pile to explore later) - Buck doesn’t remember exactly when the dreams started, just that it was sometime during his 1.0 phase. Like his subconscious realized before he did that sleeping around wasn’t cutting it. That he craved something deeper and more complex than purely physical relationships.

Fellow Travelers prompt fill for @vanillahigh00 - The words are a balm as much as they are a cut. A stabbing reminder of everything Tim can’t have. Could never have, really. Hawk was never his to keep. And as impossible as their love was before, it’s even more so now. Because Hawk belongs to Lucy. He’s a family man, a paragon of virtue within his world. Even if it’s all a lie.

Miscellaneous (edits and other things)

shall i write it in a letter? - Buckley-Diaz Family edit

And there's this boy... Buddie edit

Offering original poem

Adulting Gold Stars (part 2)

Poker Date Buddie edit

Now & Then Buddie edit

TG:M Buddie edit (is it the most amazing thing ever? not particularly but it was my first so you get it too)

London Boy Oliver edit

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @thekristen999 @wikiangela

no pressure tagging mi amor @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @buddierights @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @elvensorceress @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @apothecarose @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @jesuisici33 @statueinthestone @pirrusstuff @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @jamespearce9-1-1 @vanillahigh00 @malewifediaz @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @eowon @spagheddiediaz @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @lemonzestywrites and of course anyone else who wants to share

[aries-writingblog]

Detonation

Summary: As an FBI agent, YN deals with bad guys all day long. So does Bucky as an Avenger. When their worlds collide, it’s never pretty. Especially not when they are the targets.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4620

Warnings: language, violence, bombs and explosions, bomb threats, hostage situation

AN: This was another request from @cherry-season and if you can’t tell by reading this I’ve been watching criminal minds again so I hope you guys like this one. GIF is not my own credit to original creator.

YN leaned back in the desk chair, spinning it halfway back and forth. Boring a hole into the scattered papers of the police department. She was exhausted. Their team had been after this same guy for a week now. A real piece of work: planting bombs in DC banks. Leaving cryptic messages with them. Fortunately, their bomb squad made it in time to dismantle the charge before it blew. But they were no closer to catching the guy than before.

“Shitty coffee?” A deep, masculine voice approached her side. Placing a coffee cup in front of her. YN smiled, gratefully accepting the beverage. She glanced up to the provider, one of her teammates, Alex Knowles. “Look like you could use it.”

“That a way of telling me I look worse than the coffee?” YN teased, chugging the lukewarm drink down. So accustomed to cheap, watery coffee, she barely even gagged at the bitter taste as it went down. “No leads?”

Alex shook his head, pulling up a chair and plopping beside her. He sighed, gazing out over the bustling police station. Watching the beat cops go in and out of the doors, suspects and victims all being questioned or held in the same room. A Mecca of activity unfolding before their eyes. Progress. Just not the progress they needed.

“Kinda hoping Bryant would bring something back in- he went to question a couple witnesses that were around the bank at the time the guy dropped the bomb off.” He reported, sitting forward to shuffle through the papers on the desk. “What’s all this?”

“Those are previous reports…” YN explained, brushing stray hair back from her face. “I thought he could’ve had a previous record… he built these bombs with some kind of knowledge- whether it be academic or street smarts, I’m not sure yet. Besides, not doing anything else.”

Alex nodded, letting the paper slip through his fingers and back to the desktop. He watched his teammate reorganize the stacks- the glittering diamond on her finger catching his eye. A devilish grin cracked his lips, whistling appreciatively.

“Barnes finally asked that question, did he?” He asked, putting his cup down and gesturing for her hand. YN rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile as she complied. Alex studied the rock more closely, examining the quality. “Got good taste for somebody as old as he is.”

“Oh shut up.” YN laughed, yanking her hand back.

She and Bucky met on a case. Their FBI team had been invited into a local investigation of suspicious activity. Turns out, the Avengers were also looking into it. Well, a team of four Avengers anyways. Bucky Barnes being one of them. He was smooth, a sweet talker. Managed to wriggle his way into her phone, later he would swing a date. Two years later, Bucky was down on a knee in her bedroom. Asking one of those life altering questions.

That had been three weeks ago. They barely had time to see each other after that night. She was pulled back into work, he was pulled halfway across the globe on a mission. He did call every night, checking in. Asking about her day. Making outrageous, silly promises about the wedding and their new home, their future. Making her smile, distracting her from her day. At the same time, allowing himself to dissociate from the mission he was on as well.

“I’m happy for you.” Alex’s tone turned sober, serious. YN glanced over to him. He leaned his elbows on his knees, smiling broadly. “You both deserve someone like the other… you deserve each other. I mean it in the best, possible way.”

“Thank you, Alex.” YN replied, reflecting her sincere gratitude as best she could. Alex was always in her corner. No matter what- he trusted her. In their world, that meant everything and more.

“Hey, LN- Knowles!” Ricky Bryant came rushing into their area, flushed and out of breath. “Listen, I think we might’ve found the bomber’s identity: Casey Griffin. ”

“What?” YN leaned forward, staring up at him. Her eyebrows furrowed, a faint pin struck the back of her head. “Griffin… Casey Griffin- that sounds familiar. Why is that familiar?”

Ricky opened his mouth, ready to spill all the information he had gathered about the man. A woman interrupted their circle, a panicked look in her eyes.

“Agent LN- there’s a call on line six for you. He claims to be responsible for the bombings and he’s demanding to speak with you.” She interjected, nodding to the desk phone. YN glanced from Ricky to Alex.

“Get Robbie on the phone- tell her we need to trace this call immediately.” She instructed, rolling to the desk to pick up the phone. She waited a moment, allowing Ricky to call Robbie, the fourth member of their team. Their tech analyst. “Ready?”

“Yeah- go ahead.”

YN took a deep, calming breath. Her fingers tightened around the phone anxiously. Swallowing back her creeping nerves, she pulled the phone off the receiver.

“Agent LN, may I ask who’s calling?” She began slowly, giving Robbie a chance to snag the call’s location. There was heavy breathing on the other end, as if he had been running.

“You know who’s calling, YN. Don’t play coy- it isn’t a good look on you.”

Recognition struck her like lightning as she heard his voice. He had been one of the hostages in the first emergency scene. YN had taken down his statement herself. She ground her teeth together, anger flooding her system. She had been played.

“You’ve got me there, Casey.” She chuckled, her free hand wiping down the thigh of her tactical pants. “This is the first time you’ve called- why are you just now contacting us?”

The sound Griffin made was far from a laugh- the dark, slow noise was bone chilling. Nauseating. She could feel it deep into her clothes, settling like frost against her skin. She bit her cheek, staving off the urge to shiver through the discomfort.

“I’ve decided I want to give you front row tickets to the show, of course.” He crowed, voice leaping in octaves. “Corner of West and Fifth. You have half an hour, unless you want all these lovely people to end up blood splatters and burn marks on the floors.” YN winced, clenching her jaw. “Oh, and YN? Come in alone.”

The telltale click and beep ended the call, leaving YN to stare blankly at the desk before her. Clenching the phone in her grasp so tightly the plastic creaked. Knuckles lightening. She swallowed, something was clutching her throat. Restricting her lung capacity. Her shaking fingers pressed the phone into the receiver. Pushing her chair back, she stumbled to her feet.

“YN- “

“I just need a minute, okay?” She snapped, snagging her jacket from the chair across from the desk. YN shoved past the incoming traffic of people, fumbling her way outside.

The city was full of noise; Blaring car horns, shouting, a low murmur of pedestrian conversations. Sirens. The thrum of the city’s heartbeat under her feet. Taking a left into the alleyway, YN dug through her pockets, fingers brushing against the carton of cigarettes and lighter.

Hands trembling, she put a stick between her lips. Blowing smoke as soon as she lit it. Tilting her head back against the weathered brick of the station. A shaky exhale following the wavering grey smoke. She clenched her jaw, bowing her head.

She knew it was a trap- Casey was asking to meet alone. But he was holding hostages in a bank loaded down with explosives. And who knew what he wanted, why only her? Why alone? And why was that name familiar? None it made sense- facts blurring together. Shrouding him from her senses.

A sudden buzz against her abdomen sent her reeling back into consciousness. Her cigarette was gone- flicking the filter to the ground. Pushing it into the cement with her boot. Her fingers scuttled through her pocket, retrieving her phone.

Bucky’s contact photo- one of him fast asleep with fridge magnets on his arm. She smiled- somehow Bucky always knew right when she needed him. Like he had a sensor on her emotions, giving him timely reports. Updating him constantly.

“Hey, Buck.” She greeted, begging her voice to not crack. It sounded normal. Or at least enough that she hoped Bucky didn’t question it. Tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear, she lit another cigarette. Blowing the stress away from the speaker.

“Hey, sugar,” She could hear his smile through the phone. That excited one he always got when he first saw her. Wide, showing off his teeth. Stretching his face so much she wondered if it hurt. “I’m just callin’ to tell you I’m home. And I know you’re busy but, I wanted to hear your voice again.”

YN laughed, falling into the regular rhythm with him. Allowing herself to feel the stress melt from her bones. Bucky always had that affect on her. Something she couldn’t quite understand. Why the man was such an addictive drug.

“Well, you’re in luck- I’m on a break right now.” She wanted nothing more than to sit and talk with him, listen to his baritone drawl. Lulling her into a state of comfort and security. But she knew she couldn’t- she had limited time. She had to make a decision. And soon.

“Are you smoking again?” Bucky asked. YN smiled, biting down on her lip. She made a noncommittal noise, neither agreeing or disagreeing with his statement. He had been after her for their entire relationship to make her quit the habit. Trying to help her kick it. Nothing ever really helped. “YN…”

“I know… I’ve only had two. I just… I needed a break.” She admitted, bowing her head. She shifted her eyes to the alleyway opening, seeing Alex and Ricky approaching her. “I’ve got to get back. I’ll see you at home?”

“Yes, I’m making that soup you like for dinner. Don’t let it go cold.” He warned.

“I won’t. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket, meeting her partner’s halfway. Their faces drawn with concern and hesitancy.

“Gear me up.” She pushed between them, not looking back. She feared if she looked at them again, she would lose her nerve. Holding her shoulders back, chin tilted with her head held high. She had to keep the air of confidence around her. If she didn’t- they would never believe her. YN needed full backup for her plan. “I’m going in.”

~~~~~~

The building seemed to loom over her, taunting her as she stood before it. The large windows were gaping at her, a threat to her minuscule presence. YN swallowed back the terror she felt, pushing it down and locking it away. Out of reach.

“We’ll be talking with you through the comms unit the whole time.” Ricky explained, securing the equipment over her ear. He carefully tightened the straps on her vest, glancing to meet her eyes. His brows dipped. “You don’t have to do this you know? We can raid the building or get a sniper down here. This isn’t the only option.”

YN shook her head, clipping her holster over her belt, around her waist. She sighed, the exhale was shaky. Biting down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, she clipped extra ammunition to the side.

“It’s the one where everyone makes it out. Those hostages are the main priority right now.”

“Hey.” Ricky stopped her nervous movement, hands on both of her shoulders. Forcing her to look up at his face. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it seem like some small bust… this is serious. We’re worried about you. About this. It’s dangerous. Give a little of that focus to yourself.”

“Okay.” YN agreed. She inhaled again, this time a little more steady. Giving a final affirmative nod, she squared her shoulders and backed away. She turned, facing the group of DC police officers and FBI squads. “Alright, these comms go both ways. I’m negotiating for hostages first. If anything goes wrong, clear the site. We don’t know how many explosives he has in there.”

YN watched the groups follow her orders, setting up to accept hostages. Loading guns for a raid if needed. Both ambulance and fire department had been called in. The companies were also preemptively preparing for the worst. She began walking toward the bank, eyes forward. What felt like thousands of eyes followed her to the door, fire burning against her back.

As she approached, she could see a woman standing at the glass door. She had been crying- her face stained with tears. YN stopped at the glass door, standing face to face with the woman. After several moments of staring, the order was finally given to open the door. The woman’s shaking fingers unlocked it, pushing it open.

“You’ve served your purpose.” A quiet voice spoke across the lobby, echoing on the tiled floors. “You may go.” The woman burst into tears, shoving past YN and onto the street. “Agent LN… how courteous of you to take her place.”

YN entered the lobby tentatively, keeping her head on a swivel. She turned the corner, coming face to face with the bomber. Casey Griffin stood behind the group of hostages, hands tucked behind his back. A twisted, sacrilegious grin on his lips. The group at his feet were huddled together, most were sobbing quietly. Holding people they most likely didn’t know. She knew from experience that tense situations erased all lines between humans. Everything begins to blur when terrified panic sets in.

“I’m here, Griffin. What do you want?” She demanded, her hand resting on her weapon. There was a buzz of static in her ear, the line opening.

“We don’t have a visual of you anymore, LN. Get back into sight.”

Griffin took a step forward, around his subjects. A small, black remote in his hand. Eyes steady on her face. Studying her. He exhaled sharply, coming to a stop right before her.

“I was hoping you’d be more… well, more.” He frowned, disappointed. YN’s eyebrow lifted, unable to follow his thoughts. “Such a shame… I’ve read all these great things about you. Every case you’ve solved, every step you’ve made to get here. You’re much more impressive on paper.”

“Get to the point.” YN sneered, her jaw clenched. Griffin smirked, eyes scanning down her face again. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“All you feds- no taste for the theatrical. I much rather prefer the Avengers.” He grinned, eyes sparkling dangerously. YN felt her heartbeat pick up It’s pace. Heart threatening to burst out of her chest. “Oh, that’s right… congratulations, by the way. What’s it like- being engaged to a fossil? Are his brains still scrambled?”

“Shut up.” She hissed, fingers itching to reach out and wrap around his throat. He only tilted his head, pouting. He began pacing, orbiting around her slowly. Her shoulders tensed, defenses began raising even further. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you see, I’m very well acquainted with Sergeant Barnes.” Griffin slowed to a stop again, on her right. He leaned in, close enough she could feel his breath against her skin. “He murdered my husband.”

The pounding in her chest seemed to have leapt into her throat. Breathing was much harder now, her skin crawled as her brain went into overdrive. Something was wrong… what was going on?

“He doesn’t do that anymore.” YN admitted, her voice lower than she thought it would be. Threatening to crack.

“But he does.” He hissed, gripping her arm tightly. Yanking her to his chest. His free hand came up to her ear, ripping the unit out and flinging it into the wall. His fingers fluttered down to her chin, grasping it tightly and forcing her face to his. He stared down at her. Anger burning in his irises, the dark circles under his eyes. His nostrils flared. “What makes it even worse is that he chose to do it. With Hydra, he had no choice. But with the Avengers? He had every decision laid out before him and he chose.”

YN flinched, flecks of saliva landing on her cheek. Her jaw clenched down tighter, eyes closing momentarily. Griffin’s hand crept down from her face, into the pocket of her pants. His fingers grasped the device, pulling it out. He held the device to her face, unlocking it then shoving her away.

“So now,” Griffin gave her a maniacal grin. YN was beginning to get whiplash from his mood swings. He was unpredictable. Unstable. Devolving before her eyes. She glanced back to the group of hostages. “He gets to flex that autonomy again. Oh, how lovely- he was your last call.”

“Why do you have me here, Griffin?” YN demanded, attempting to take control of the situation. If he was distracted, she could maneuver and gain the upper hand. “If you wanted to go after Bucky you would’ve done it. Why do any of this? Why do you need them?”

Griffin spared a quick glance to the group of shivering civilians. He hummed quietly, pressing dial for Bucky’s number. YN felt a drop of sweat bead down her neck. Rolling to meet the bulletproof fabric over her torso. She was alone in here, responsible for the lives of those petrified people. Staring and waiting for her to do something. Help them.

Her eyes fell to the remote in his hand. She could snatch it. The bomb was his power move. His leverage. Then again, the hostages were bargaining chips. He had to give something up. She had to remove variables.

“Let them go.” YN urged, holding her hands out in surrender. “You’ve got me, you’ve got my attention. Let them go.” He sighed dramatically, eyes rolling as he pressed the button for speakerphone.

“It’s no fun without an audience.” He whined, shrugging as he turned to the hostage group. “And to think- we were just getting to the good part. Fine! Leave, all of you.”

The group all scrambled to their feet, taking their leave before he changed his mind. The stampede rushed the door, cramming themselves out into the street. YN’s heart slowed, the adrenaline fading in her veins slightly. Her priority was taken care of- they all made it out alive.

“Hello?” YN never thought she would be nervous to hear Bucky’s voice. Casey smiled at the phone, eyes boring into her skull. “YN? Hello?”

“She can’t make it to the phone right now.” Griffin responded, giving her a mocking pout. The other end fell silent. YN could almost feel the paranoia settle over his body. “I would ask you to leave a message but I’m afraid she won’t be around much longer to hear it.”

An idea began to form, tingling at the base of her skull. YN gulped nervously. She had to keep him distracted- keep him focused on Bucky. But that also meant she had to stay focused on Casey. She couldn’t say a word to Bucky. Not yet.

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” Bucky hissed. YN closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could pull her weapon. But could she pull it fast enough? Griffin could blow the place to smithereens. She could try to get the remote- every solution seemed to fall back to the same outcome. She grit her teeth- he had the upper hand. She could do nothing but wait it out.

“Joshua Rivers.” Casey replied. While his voice was smooth and unrestrained, his eyes told a different story. Seething, red hot rage burned in his veins. “Does that name ring any bells to you, Sargeant? Let me give you a hint anyways- I know how fragile the mind can be in the older years. He was a lead operative for Hydra. Four months ago, you raided his warehouse and instead of arresting him, you put a bullet through his skull.”

“He deserved more.” Bucky hissed, his voice crackling through the speaker. Echoing in the empty building. Casey scowled, his nose scrunching in anger. “That warehouse housed human experimentation projects.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Casey screamed, veins in his neck popping out against his skin. Pumping adrenaline in time with his heart. “He was a person- he had people who loved him, cared for him. You took that away from me. I can’t help but wonder… how you’ll feel about the same circumstances.”

“Where is YN?” Bucky demanded, keeping his voice level. YN began to creep her fingers up, toward the gun in her holster. She had one chance. He was distracted- she could gain the upper hand.

“Well, that’s a tricky question. It’s only a matter of time before she’s… everywhere.” Griffin shrugged, swinging his gaze back to YN. Her fingers faltered, halting at her hip. She was close, her thumb brushed the cold metal of the gun. “So now… now I think I’ll return the favor. You took something from me. The only person that ever mattered. You destroyed my world.”

“If you touch her, I swear to-“

“You don’t believe in God, Sergeant.” Griffin’s slow drawl interrupted the threat. His tongue ran over his lips, taking a deep breath. “He’s not real. If he were, don’t you believe that none of this suffering would happen?” There was a ruckus of noise on the other end of the phone, Bucky panting heavily. A door slamming. “This is your repentance, James Barnes.”

YN’s fingers wrapped around the metal plating, her nerves settling. She could make this draw. It would be fast enough. It would be accurate. She could end it once and for all. She exhaled slowly, counting down.

Three…

Two…

One…

In a flash, YN pulled her gun from her side. Aiming it at Casey’s chest and pulling the trigger. The loud gunfire echoed- ringing in her ears. Her heart sank. Stomach plummeting to her feet.

She missed.

Casey’s expression settled into one of contempt. Disappointment. The hell fire turned to her, his focus shifting from Bucky to YN. Surging toward her, his hand swung out, shoving the muzzle to the ceiling as she fired again. Casey’s fist tightened around her phone, a strong punch to her kidney sending her to her knees, wheezing for air. YN grunted, her hand swinging at a wide angle, but it was only deflected as the heel of his hand connected with her nose. Releasing a sharp cry, YN cradled her nose carefully. Eyes watering and face stinging. Bucky’s frantic shouts barely audible as she knelt, gasping in pain. Her thoughts muddled and slow.

Casey sighed dramatically, ripping the weapon from Yn’s hand. She groaned, disoriented as a fresh wave of pain throbbed from her face. Blood seeped from between her fingers, dripping down into a puddle on the tile floor.

“Say goodbye to your fiancée, Sergeant.”

~~~~~~

Bucky all but tossed the motorcycle onto the curb as he skidded to a stop. A blazing inferno consumed the building, scorching the blackened trees that once surrounded it. The hand gripping his throat squeezed tighter as he stumbled toward the police line. Shoving his way through bystanders.

He felt sick- choking back the nausea bubbling from his stomach. Fire bellowed from the gaping, blown out glassless windows. Portions of the building were collapsed, the rest soon to follow. He barreled through shouting police officers, desperate to reach the building.

“Barnes!” He didn’t turn- even though the voice was familiar. He had to get to her- she was still alive, he knew she was. She had to be. “Barnes- man, you can’t go in there!”

Hands grasped his metallic shoulder, pulling him back roughly. Bucky grunted, swinging his arm around, taking hold of the man’s bulletproof vest. He clenched his jaw, staring down at Alex Knowles. One of her partners. Knowles’ eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. His skin was irritated, probably from wiping tears away.

“She’s still in there.” Bucky stated, without asking if she had been pulled out yet. He knew the process of these kinds of situations. The fire chief had to clear it and the area was nowhere near safe enough. But his girl was in there, in danger. Dying slowly, the longer he stood around. It had already been too long.

“Teams haven’t been sent in yet… I know you’re scared but you could make it worse if you go in there guns blazing. It could collapse the rest of the way.” Knowles warned, his eyes begging Bucky to stay put. Bucky shoved him away. Stripping off his jacket, Bucky scowled at the man.

“I will be the something worse if she’s not alive. Don’t test me, Knowles.” He growled, tying the jacket sleeves around his waist. Bucky turned on his heel, sprinting for the blown out doors of the bank. Ignoring the shouts of the firemen and police officers on the scene.

Inside, the flames locked the walls, staying maintained. It seemed the only thing the department had been doing since the explosion was clearing the fire. They had been prepared somewhat.

Bucky stumbled through the rubble, boots tripping over chunks of concrete and twisted metal. He had to find YN, she was somewhere. He had to keep himself from thinking the worst- she was alive. She would be okay. He just had to find her first.

He turned what would’ve been a corner of the bank, his heart rocketing through his chest. The beat thumping wildly.

Two bodies. Lying side by side.

“YN!” He picked his way through rubble, skidding to his knees beside her. Deep cuts laced her dirtied features, trapped under a chunk of concrete from the waist down. For now, he didn’t care of the implications that could lie beneath the rock. His trembling fingers found the pulse point in her neck, bowing his head and stifling a sharp sob as he felt a faint, slow thrum. He brushed the hair from her face gently, biting his lip to keep himself together. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Bucky shuffled down to her waist, hooking his fingers into the rock. Just as he began lifting, a sharp gasp startled him, almost dropping the rubble. He glanced back at YN- wide awake and sobbing. Carefully, Bucky spared a glance under the concrete. A metal rod went directly through her thigh, blood seeping from the wound.

“Shit…” It had been contained until he lifted it- now she was going to bleed out. He had to move fast. “YN, doll, I’ve got you. This is gonna hurt but it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t respond, sobs ripping from her chest as he stilled. Bucky took a deep breath, collecting his nerves. He moved quickly, throwing the concrete across the room with a loud grunt. An ear piercing shriek fell from Yn’s lips, her fist pounding the ground at her side. Bucky untied his jacket, wrapping it tightly around her injured thigh.

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re gonna get out of here.” Bucky’s chest tightened as he gathered her in his arms. She was shivering, huddling close to his body as best she could. Her skin was filthy, covered in soot, dirt, and blood. “Try to talk with me, sweet girl. Stay awake.”

“Ja- James…” YN’s fingers twisted into his shirt, tears soaking into his fabric. His heart clenched. It was his fault- that idiot had gone after her because of him. He held her closer, tighter, as he picked his way back to the doors. “I… I think I’m done- done smoking.”

Bucky almost laughed, forgetting his location. The situation fading as he spared a glance down to her face. She was grimacing, lips pulled and forehead wrinkled. But here she was- trying to joke with him.

“Why’s that, doll?” He questioned, emerging from the collapsed bank. The sunlight was strong, glaring down into his eyes. He hunched slightly, trying to block the intense light from her sensitive eyes. YN groaned, tugging weakly at his shirt. “We’re almost there, doll. Keep talking. Why’re you quittin’?”

“I’ve had enough smoke for one lifetime.” She replied, eyes fluttering. Paramedics rushed toward them, a gurney wheeled to their side. Bucky carefully lay her back, grasping her hand tightly as they rushed toward the ambulance.

Bucky didn’t reply, lips pressed together. Concern running rampant as they moved. His eyes caught Knowles and Bryant’s, averting his as soon as they landed. Loading into the ambulance.

“Bucky?” He quickly stepped up, sitting down in the back. Squeezing her hand tightly. YN gave a half- hearted return. Her fingers tangling with his, eyes closed. “Stay… please…”

“I’m here, sweetheart.” Bucky smiled, hoping his face could mask the desperate panic he felt in the pit of his stomach. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

[hotshotsxyz]

his lucky stars

buddie (1.2k) (read it on AO3)

Evan Buckley isn’t reckless, no matter what his teammates say. Sure, he takes a lot of risks, but they’re calculated. And maybe he failed algebra, but he’s good at this kind of math.

The thing about Evan Buckley is that he’s got a soulmate. If he’s honest, he’s not sure he believes in the concept. That is - he knows he’s got one, in the sense that there are words scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting across his wrist. But he’s not sure if the whole ‘perfect match’ thing is legit. Who’s gonna hear him say a sentence or two and decide it’s enough to stay? It seems unrealistic if you ask him, but it does come with one advantage. Because whatever he thinks about soulmates, fate is demonstrably real. Fate says that if you have words, you’ll hear them.

Buck’s practically invincible.

So yeah, if he takes the risks so his markless teammates don’t have to, the math works out. Sure, he might get hurt, but until he hears those fateful words, he’s not going to die.

He’s not expecting anything to change on a random Tuesday.

“New recruit,” Bobby says, and Buck’s jaw nearly drops. On the one hand, they don’t need a new recruit. The team’s just fine as it is. On the other hand, Eddie Diaz is the most attractive man Buck’s ever seen. Ever. He’s not sure if he’s jealous or, well, the other thing. He’s more than content to figure that one out later, right up until Eddie opens his stupidly hot mouth.

“You’re Buck, right? Nice to meet you. I’ve heard good things.”

That time, Buck’s jaw actually does drop. He snaps it shut, turns on his heel, and leaves without a word.

Holy shit.

Eddie Diaz. Eddie Diaz is his fucking soulmate. This is going to ruin everything.

Buck knows he’s being an asshole, but he can’t help it. If he says a single fucking word to Diaz, the magic’s over. Assuming Eddie has his words. He must, right? Hell, wouldn’t that be Buck’s luck? A one-sided bond? It’s virtually unheard of, but not impossible.

He pushes the thought away. The odds of the bond being one-sided are so low, it’s not worth chancing. So yeah, Buck’s being an asshole, but if it means he can continue keeping his team safe with his near-immortality, he’s going to keep being an asshole. And hey! He’s keeping Eddie safe too. Frankly, if he gave Eddie the choice, he’d probably prefer it like this.

Their first call is to an auto shop where a man’s been impaled on an air compressor. Buck’s got it, he does, but then Eddie steps in and he’s irritatingly competent. Buck huffs and hands over the angiocath. The silence on their way back to the station is deafening.

He makes it through the shift without saying a word to Eddie. He knows Bobby notices, and that he probably won’t get away with it for long, but at least for now, his superpower is intact. He’ll deal with the rest later.

It’s not until he’s unlocking the door to Abby’s place that he realizes he hasn’t thought about her all day, maybe for the first time since she left. The ache in his chest that he hadn’t realized was missing resumes. He leaves the key in the lock for a moment and rocks back on his heels. It feels like it means something.

He’d been so sure she was coming back, but why would she? There’s an entire world out there that isn’t Buck. She’d probably known from the minute she left that she wasn’t coming back. It’s been weeks since they talked. Maybe it’s time for Buck to stop waiting.

The sound of the shower running hits him as he steps across the threshold, and Buck immediately feels guilty for his train of thought.

She’s back. Abby’s back. Buck’s got half a mind to join her in the shower, but his earlier thoughts stop him. Whatever her reason for returning, they need to talk before they do anything else.

And then it’s not Abby. It’s Maddie. His sister. Holy shit. His heart breaks and lifts at the same time. Abby’s still gone, but he hasn’t seen Maddie in years, and he’s missed her like he’d miss a piece of himself.

She prods him about the apartment, and everything comes spilling out. Abby, how she’s been gone, and worst of all Eddie.

“Evan, he’s your soulmate. You have to tell him!” she says.

“I absolutely don’t,” Buck argues. “I’ve got a good thing here, I’m not going to ruin it just because I met my soulmate.”

Maddie shakes her head but doesn’t argue.

Eddie walks into the gym and Buck leaves. Eddie goes to grab a drink from the fridge and Buck abandons his half-finished lunch. Eddie corners him in the locker room, and Buck… is stuck.

“What’s your problem, man?” Eddie asks, throwing his hands in the air.

Buck just shakes his head.

“Look, I hear you’re a good guy, and that you’re going through some personal stuff, but if we’re going to work together you have to at least talk to me. So whatever this is, knock it off.” Eddie spins on his heel and leaves.

Hen comes in not long after.

“What’s going on with you, Buckaroo?” she asks, not unkindly.

Buck shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

The station alarm goes off, and Buck thanks his lucky stars.

Hen sighs. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

The guy's got a live grenade in his leg. Like hell Buck’s letting Eddie go in there alone, and like hell he’s letting another member of his team go.

“I’m in,” Buck says, making sure he directs it to Bobby.

Eddie frowns at him but nods. Bobby tries to give them both an out, but neither of them takes it. Buck feels like an asshole all over again. He and Eddie are clearly cut from the same cloth, and the more time Buck spends around him, the more respect he has for him. He’s sure as hell not going to break his silence now, though, not right before they try to pull a live grenade out some guy’s leg.

“You wanted us to bond,” Buck says to Bobby. “We might end up real close.”

They get it out. They get the grenade out and it’s exhilarating. Buck’s never felt more invincible than he does now, working alongside Eddie, and isn’t that a thought? They’d been completely in sync back there, despite Buck’s silence.

It felt right, in a way Buck’s never felt before. Like he’s been looking for his place in the world his entire life, and maybe, just maybe, that place is by Eddie’s side. He’s screwed.

“You’re a badass under pressure, brother,” Eddie says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I just wish you’d talk to me.”

Buck’s heart lifts and falls as fast as it’s ever done. And fuck, Eddie looks almost sad. Whatever it means for him, for them, he can’t keep doing this. He chooses his words carefully.

“Up until right now,” Buck says slowly, “I was invincible. You were, too.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “You- you’re-”

Buck sticks out his hand. “Evan Buckley. Kind of an asshole. Also your soulmate. Most people just call me Buck.”

Eddie’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click, and his eyebrows practically disappear into his hairline, but he takes Buck’s hand and shakes it.

“Soulmate, huh?” Eddie asks, a little breathless.

Buck shrugs. “You think maybe we could start over?”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He’s beautiful, Buck thinks. Maybe it’s time he reconsiders this whole soulmate business.

[jay4firefic]

Last Train Home

Summary: When a train crashes just outside of LA, Buck doesn’t expect to find his ex-fiance Kelly Severide searching the wreckage for Shay. And this close to the anniversary of Andy Darden’s death - the event that broke them both, and their relationship with them - he’s not willing to stand by and watch any more old friends die. 3x18 rewrite for anon.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Pacific West 1135 from Phoenix to LA has derailed somewhere near the LA County line. Whatever your mass casualty protocol is, activate it. I need fire and rescue, USAR, local PD - everyone you can send, as fast as you can send them.”

“I’ll call them now. It seems like you’ve done this before.”

“I’m a firefighter out of Chicago. Dealt with a train crash before. Look, I’m going back in--”

“Sir, I need you to stay on the line. Help is on the way.”

“Help’s gonna be too late for a lot of these people.”

Click.

------

Buck dozes restlessly for most of the hour long ride to the county line, jerking awake every time Mason hits a pothole or flips the sirens on to speed through traffic. He’s exhausted, has barely slept in days, because every time dreams pull him under he sees a wall of fire rushing toward him and a burning body on the floor. He knows from experience that the rest of the week will be just as bad. 

Four years and the anniversary of Darden’s death hasn’t gotten any damn easier.

“Hey, Buckaroo,” Hen calls through the headset, her hand on his knee. When Buck cracks his eyes open he can see her leaning toward him in the darkness of the cab. “You alright? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Am I supposed to be cracking jokes on the way to a mass casualty?” he asks, and regrets it immediately. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m fine, Hen, just having a bad day.”

She opens her mouth as if to speak again, Eddie leaning in on Buck’s other side to eye him with concern, only to be cut off when the truck shudders to a stop in the dirt. Buck is first out the door just to get away from those looks. He stops dead just outside and doesn’t move until Eddie runs into his back.

The headlights of the trucks and a few hastily set up flood lights are the only thing illuminating the scene outside, throwing deep shadows and obscuring a good chunk of the wreckage. It still looks like something that belongs on a film set rather than in real life. Twisted plastic and metal litter the ground, smoke is pouring out of one of the train cars, and even in the darkness Buck can see bodies - pieces of them, at least - scattered in every direction.

“Jesus,” Buck breathes, while Eddie mutters what might be a curse or might be a prayer in Spanish beside him. A moment later they turn in unison at the sound of Bobby’s voice.

“Buck, Eddie, go have a look. See if there’s a way to secure that car so we can get those people out.”

Buck nods jerkily as he moves away to pull the rest of his gear on and picks his way across the debris field in Eddie’s wake, trying not to look too hard at what’s under his feet. He’s seen more than his fair share of mass casualties before - the earthquake, the tsunami - but he’s always been in the middle of them, experiencing it right alongside the victims. Something about showing up to pick up the pieces after the worst of it is over hits him differently. 

He’s shaken enough that he doesn’t even register the shouting at first. A man’s voice, hoarse and desperate, raised above the more measured tones of another pair of firefighters. He would have walked right past if Eddie hadn’t led them toward the scuffle.

“Get out of my goddamn way, I need to get back into that car!”

Eddie steps forward, lets the other guys escape back to doing the real work of saving people. Buck lingers several feet behind him to continue surveying the precariously tilted train car, but no matter what angle he looks at it from one thing is clear. There’s no good way in. Not without risking the whole thing coming down on them.

“Sir, I’m sorry. We can’t let you inside. It’s too dangerous.”

“I know it’s dangerous, I’m a fucking firefighter. I need to get into that car. My girl is in there.”

“I hear you,” Eddie says, hands extended and voice level. There’s something so familiar about the other voice that Buck finally glances over his shoulder at the argument. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” the man stumbles forward in the dark, grabbing Eddie’s sleeve. The light finally catches the silver in his hair, the piercing blue of his eyes, the blood dripping down his face from a ragged cut across his brow. Buck would recognize that face anywhere. “Are you from the 118?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, voice full of confusion, as Buck’s voice cracks around a soft cry of, “Kelly?” 

Kelly’s gaze snaps to him immediately, eyes going wide as Buck pulls off his helmet and turns toward the light. “Buck?”

And suddenly Buck’s feet are moving without his consent and the handful of yards between them have disappeared. His gloves are off and his hands are cupping Kelly’s stubble-roughened cheeks before his brain catches up with his body, and by then it’s too late. He inspects the cut on Kelly’s brow, the way he’s cradling his left arm across his torso at an implausible angle, and barely even sees the strange look Eddie is giving him in his peripheral vision. “You were on the train? Why the hell aren’t you collared and backboarded?”

“I’m fine,” Kelly bites out. He shakes Buck’s hands off and tries to push past him, hissing in pain when their shoulders collide. 

“Kelly, we need to get you checked out.”

“No, I’m fine. I need to get back up there. I need--”

“That’s crazy. No, no, Kelly, stop.” Buck hauls Kelly back by his good shoulder, forces him to sit on a nearby piece of rubble. The fact that it’s so easy to move him is proof enough that he shouldn’t be going anywhere. 

“Shay is still in there!” Kelly’s voice breaks as he tries to gain his feet again only to wobble and sit down heavily. Clearly concussed, and still too stubborn to stop trying to be the hero. “Shay is still--”

Buck sucks in a sharp breath and feels his heart rate spike with panic. Shay is still in there. Shay is still in there. Andy died four years ago this week and Shay is still in there. “Where were you?” he manages to ask around the lump in his throat.

“We were in the top car, all the way in the back.” Kelly uses his good arm to point to the upended train car, because of course that’s where they were. The only person Buck has ever met with worse luck than himself is Kelly Severide. “She fell asleep. I went to get a drink, and…”

“We’ll find her.” Buck looks up at the groaning slab of metal and glass and swallows back bile. “Eddie and I will find her, alright? But you have to stay here.”

“Hell no--”

“Kel, if you go into that train you’re going to end up another victim we have to rescue. And every second I spend pulling your ass out of the wreckage will be another second Shay isn’t getting help. I’m going to find her. I’m going to bring her back to you. But you need to stay here, alright?” When Kelly keeps fighting him, Buck plays dirty. He smacks Kelly’s shoulder - dislocated, he’s pretty sure - and watches all of the color drain out of his face. “Stay here. I’ll find her.”

Kelly’s glare might frighten someone else - is enough to have Eddie stepping up to Buck’s shoulder to back him up - but Buck knows better. He crosses his arms and glares back and when Buck doesn’t back down Kelly finally folds, nodding his head and then wincing when it clearly pains him. Buck is already starting to turn away when Kelly catches his sleeve and somehow, the look on his face when Buck glances back at him is worse than the glare. Raw and painful and scared like Buck has only seen him a few times. 

“If you can’t get her out…”

“We’re going to get her out.”

“Evan,” Kelly says, low and desperate. “If you can’t get her out, tell her I love her, okay? Tell her I love her.”

Buck tugs his sleeve free of Kelly’s grasp and shakes his head stubbornly. “I’m going to get her out.”

------

“So, Kelly, huh?” 

Buck knows Eddie is just looking for something to distract them both from crawling over dead bodies to get into the crumpled train car. He just wishes Eddie would pick literally any other topic. Instead of answering he keys his radio, reports, “two black tags at the entrance to the car.”

“Is that the Kelly I’m thinking of, Buck?”

“My ex-fiance Kelly?” Buck replies, because there’s no way he’s getting out of this conversation no matter how much he doesn’t want to have it. “Yep. That’s Kelly.”

“You didn’t tell me he was…”

“A guy? Yeah, well, I didn’t tell you a lot of things, Eds.” His bitter laugh comes out breathless as he starts climbing the seats like the world’s most awkward ladder. There’s another lifeless body halfway up the car - Eddie stops to confirm her obvious death while Buck keeps going, dragging himself a few awkward inches at a time up toward the cascade of blonde hair barely visible at the top of the car. “Shay? Shay, is that you?!”

A pained groan echoes through the train and one of the pale hands hanging over the edge of the furthest seat twitches. Buck’s heart is in his throat as he scrambles up the last few feet to brace himself between a steel beam and a half-crushed seat, reminding himself all the while that it might not be her. It might not be her. But--

It is.

Buck sags with relief as Shay lifts her head to look at him, blinking hard when her eyes won’t seem to focus. “Buck?”

“Hey, Shay.” Buck nearly sobs, covers it with a shaky laugh as Eddie approaches. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a dump like this?”

“Dunno.” She looks around as much as she can without moving her head, her eyes widening as she takes in Buck, scraped and covered in grime already, and the disaster behind him. “Shit.”

“Yeah. How are you feeling?” Buck takes one of her hands in his and is relieved when she winds her fingers through his. He yanks the glove off of his other hand with his teeth and checks the pulse in her neck - it’s racing, and he doesn’t like the sound of her breathing. He tries not to look at the way Eddie is frowning as he climbs behind Shay to inspect what’s keeping her pinned.

“Hurts when I breathe,” she replies, squeezing his hand weakly. “You sure I’m not dead?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“Weird. Could swear I’m looking at the face of an angel.” There’s blood on her teeth when she smiles, and her eyes still won’t focus on his face, but Buck grins anyway. A moment later it melts off his face when her expression turns to panic. “Kelly--”

“Is fine,” Buck cuts her off. “Busted his arm and he’s gonna need a few stitches, but he’s fine, okay? We’re worrying about you right now. Eddie?”

Eddie grimaces as he slides back down to lean against the seats on the other side of the aisle. He thumbs his radio, speaking to Buck and Bobby at the same time. “Cap, we got a passenger up here. Looks like the support beam from the observation deck broke through the floor. Need you to send up the jaws.”

“Copy that,” Bobby’s voice crackles through both of their radios. “Coming right up.”

The waiting is always the worst part. Shay’s breathing is labored and uneven, her eyes taking longer and longer to open between each blink. Buck cups her jaw and rubs his thumb across her cheek until the forces herself to look at him again, asks, “What the hell are you two doing on a train in Los Angeles anyway?”

“Andy loved trains,” Shay mumbles, leaning her head heavily into his palm. She doesn’t seem to notice the way Buck flinches at Andy’s name, but Eddie sure as hell does. “Kelly found this old list - bucket list, that they made when they joined CFD. Kid stuff, y’know? Buy a motorcycle, marry a beautiful woman, hike the Grand Canyon...we decided to check some things off the list.”

“The train was coming from Arizona.” Buck only remembers bits and snatches of Bobby’s briefing as they had all piled into the truck, but just like always it’s the random pieces of trivia that get stuck in his mind. “Let me guess, Grand Canyon?”

“It’s very grand.” Shay coughs - wheezes, really, because she can’t get enough breath in to do anything more. Buck is pretty sure her ribs are busted, among other things, but as long as the beam is pinning her to the seat it’s impossible to confirm. 

“What’s next?” Buck asks, sending a panicked glance toward Eddie when her eyes drift closed again. He can hear someone climbing up below them, hopefully bringing the requested equipment, and sends up a prayer to a God he long ago stopped believing in that it’s soon enough to save her. “What’s next, Shay? Marry a beautiful woman? We’ve got plenty of those in LA.”

Shay shakes her head without opening her eyes. And fuck, her lips are turning blue. “Hollywood Walk of Fame. Surfing in California. Then Mexico.”

“Hey.” The seat Buck is braced against shudders as Bobby uses it to haul himself up the last few feet. “Take this, Buck. Eddie, what’s going on?”

“Think she might have a collapsed lung from the blunt force,” Eddie replies as Buck releases Shay and scrambles to get the jaws in position. “I can relieve the pressure, but we gotta move the beam off her.”

Buck growls in frustration as the jaws shudder and fail to make any progress toward that goal. “Still too heavy, Cap. It’s not gonna budge.”

“Alright. Let’s try the hydraulic ram.”

Buck braces his feet against the seats and grunts as he takes the heavy piece of equipment from Bobby and jams it into the space between the upturned floor and the beam. He determinedly doesn’t pay attention to the way Shay’s head has sagged forward against the seat again, or how Eddie is frowning at the O2 sensor he just slipped onto her finger, his mutter of, “Oxygen levels are dropping. Definitely a collapsed lung.” All he can do is move the damn beam.

With the horrible sound of warping metal, the thing finally starts to move. Shay takes a deeper breath as the pressure holding her against the seat begins to relax - and then the screaming starts. Buck stops the ram before Bobby’s shouts even register, watches Eddie and Bobbie drop down a few seats, and has maybe the most selfish thought he’s ever had in his life. He wishes there was no one else alive up here, because every second they spend treating someone else is a second they aren’t rescuing Shay.

Buck closes his eyes, tries to breathe through the panic as Eddie announces the girl’s broken leg, the fact that it’s still receiving blood flow, over the horrible wet background noise of Shay’s breaths becoming more labored. It takes all of his willpower to put his back to Shay and move down to meet them halfway between the victims, and when he speaks his voice comes out hoarse and breathless. “What’s going on?”

“They’re both trapped by the same beam,” Bobby announces, and Buck’s heart drops into his stomach. “We take the pressure off one and we’re squeezing the other. Which one has the better shot?”

Eddie glances up at Buck once before shaking his head. “Injuries are different, the risk is the same.”

“Wait, what are we saying?” Breathe, Buck reminds himself. Nothing is decided yet. Shay is still getting out of here, she has to get out of here alive. “We gotta pick who to save?”

Bobby looks at him pityingly and Buck is pretty sure his heart stops beating for a second. “I’m saying I don’t think we can save ‘em both.”

“Fuck.” Buck slams his fist against the nearest seat.

“Look,” Bobby says, holding one hand up placatingly while balancing himself with the other. “We’re gonna give them both some pain meds and try to figure this out, okay? We’re not giving up yet. But we have to be prepared.”

Buck nods mutely while Eddie reaches for his bag, climbs back up to Shay so that Eddie can get past with a handful of medical supplies. He takes one of her hands and watches as Eddie pulls his gloves off and then takes the other, looking for a vein in the light of his helmet lamp and making a small triumphant noise when he finds one. “You’re gonna feel a little pinch.”

Shay lets out a shaky exhale that might be a weak attempt at laughter. “Not my biggest concern right now, buddy.”

“I know,” Eddie replies. He gets the needle in on the first try and pushes the painkillers only moments later. “Alright, Shay. This is for the pain. It should hit you pretty soon.”

“I sure as hell hope so.” If she’s got energy to be snarky Buck has to believe she’s got the energy to hang on a little while longer, even if she can’t really lift her head anymore.

“Keep her talking,” Eddie commands as he passes Buck on his way back down to the other woman. Buck determinedly doesn’t listen to Eddie’s low conversation with Bobby and the victim, doesn’t want to know what her chances are because if they’re good it means Shay’s aren’t.

“It’s her...or me, isn’t it?” Shay wheezes, managing to roll her head to the side and watch Buck’s face. Her eyes are dull and tired beneath a tangle of bloody blonde hair, almost resigned.

“No,” Buck says, with more confidence than he feels. She just smiles sadly as he reaches up to brush the hair out of her face - she’s always been able to see right through him. “No, that’s not what we do. Tell me about your trip.”

“God, I missed you, kid,” she says instead, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “Every day. He does too, you know?”

“I know,” Buck replies, even though he doesn’t. If Kelly had really missed him all these years it would have been easy enough to fly out to LA and tell him that, or even just call him - everyone at 51 knew where he was the whole damn time. Hell, Kelly even knew what house he’s with. He’s spared from having to listen to Shay insist by Bobby’s grunt. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Bobby says as soon as Buck has joined their little huddle. “We start with this girl, we get her out.”

“Copy that,” Eddie says, like it’s any other order on any other day, while Buck’s world collapses beneath him.

“No!” He feels sick. He feels dizzy. Andy died four years ago this week and Shay is being crushed by a beam right in front of his eyes and… “No, it’s gonna crush Shay’s other lung. She’ll die.”

“I am aware of that. The protocol dictates that we save whoever has the better chance, and Eddie’s saying that’s the girl.”

“No.” Buck can’t wrap his brain around the concept of a world without Leslie Shay in it. He hasn’t seen her in over three damn years, but she’s always been there on the other end of the phone - sending him pictures of Kelly and the stupid cat he still pretends to hate, updating him on the latest gossip from 51, asking when he’s going to come home. What the hell is he going to do without someone to remind him that he’s always got a home to go back to, no matter how bad things might get in LA? 

“Her vitals are stronger, Shay’s starting to decompensate. If we have to choose--”

“We do,” Bobby interjects. “We can’t move that steel beam.”

Buck has his mouth open to argue when the whole train car shudders and tilts. He grabs onto the nearest seatback and risks a glance over his shoulder at Shay, at the way her shoulders are shuddering with every inhale, at the blood on her lips, at the knowing look in her eyes. “Okay,” he says, “okay, you’re right. We can’t move the beam. But the skin on this thing, the skin is stainless. That’s much thinner. I could go outside, I could cut a piece out, pull the girl through, and that will buy us enough time to save Shay.”

“No.” Bobby’s frustration is clear - he thinks Buck is wasting time. And maybe he is, but he’s trying to buy enough of it to keep Shay alive. “This car hasn’t been secured, that’s why we’re working on the inside. If this thing topples, we can ride it down. But if you’re on the outside…”

Buck cuts him off. “Yeah, I know. I will be crushed by 100 tons of train car, and I know that is a lot heavier than a fire truck.” He says it matter of factly, like the thought of being crushed between another piece of metal and the cold, hard ground isn’t making his stomach twist up in knots. Like he doesn’t still wake up screaming and clutching at his bad leg at least two nights a week. Because right now, none of that matters. Only Shay does. “But Bobby…”

“Buck, stop,” Eddie says. Endlessly reasonable Eddie. “I know you made a promise.”

“What promise?”

“To Shay’s boyfriend,” Eddie clarifies, and Buck doesn’t bother to correct him. He’s got bigger problems at the moment than whether Kelly and Shay are still getting mistaken for a couple after all these years. 

“I promised I would bring her back to him,” Buck says instead.

“What?” Bobby’s expression is caught somewhere between horror and anger.

“To Kelly,” Eddie says, and his expression is just disgusted. “Her boyfriend is Kelly.”

Shock flickers across Bobby’s face, then resignation. “Okay.”

“No, look,” Buck reaches out one hand desperately, trying to keep Bobby from turning away. From killing Shay. “She’s one of us. She’s a paramedic in Chicago, okay? She saves lives every day. We can’t just let her die.”

“Stop,” Bobby says, finally raising his voice. “You are too close to this. This is too risky.”

“Well, I am willing to take the risk.” Willing to trade his life for his, if that’s what it takes.

This time Bobby snaps. “It’s not yours to take. You can’t just rush into any dangerous situation and assume it’s gonna be okay. ‘Cause sometimes it’s not, and I am tired of being on the wrong side of those hospital visits.”

And Buck is - he’s just sick of it. He’s not a child running headlong into danger because he doesn’t understand the consequences. He’s been a firefighter for nine fucking years, he’s watched friends and strangers die right in front of his eyes. Nearly died himself more than once. There’s no way he would rather go out than saving someone - anyone, but especially a friend. 

“Bobby,” he grits out. “I am not Athena. And I am not your son.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Enough!” Eddie shouts over the both of them. “We don’t have time for this. Buck, come on.”

“No.” Buck doesn’t look away from Bobby. Wills him to understand that he has to do this. “Nobody has to die, okay? I can save them both. So stop wasting time and let me do it.”

Bobby switches to a different tactic, visibly pushing his frustration down and reaching for the expression of a disappointed but hopeful father. “Buck, you don’t owe this to Kelly, alright? You don’t owe him your life.”

“This isn’t about Kelly!” Buck can feel his voice raising, hear the other girl crying and the way Shay has started whimpering with every exhale. “This is about Shay. I would dig her out of here with my bare fucking hands whether Kelly is here or not. And I am not going to let her die because you’re more worried about risking harm to me than guaranteeing her death. I’m going out there whether you like it or not - so either help me, or get the hell out of my way.”

Buck turns and scrambles back up the seats to Shay and his gear. He has a harness, rope, a saw. He can do this on his own if he has to, though it would be easier with Eddie’s help. Eddie who is busy having a furiously whispered conversation with Bobby that he doesn’t care to listen in on. If he has to listen to them weighing the value of his life against Shay’s he’s going to start screaming and he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop.

“Buck,” Shay whispers, watching as he ties the rope onto his harness and starts searching for an anchor point near the window he intends to go out of. “I can still hear, you know. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Buck replies. A thrill of triumph runs through him as Bobby shouts up that he’s going down to see if they can stabilize the car and orders Eddie to ‘help Buck, before he gets himself killed.’ “I know, but I want to. No place I’d rather be than between you and certain death.”

“Kelly will forgive you.”

“It’s not about Kelly!” Buck snaps at her, wincing when she flinches away from the noise. He feels Eddie at his shoulder, passes off the rope to him and starts working on busting open a window instead. “I am not going to watch any more friends die, Shay. Not this week, not ever if there’s anything I can do about it. Don’t ask me to do that. And don’t ask me to walk out of here without a scratch and tell Kelly the love of his life is dead either, okay?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Shay sighs, quieter with every word. Buck can barely hear her over the sound of the window shattering. They’re running out of time. “That’s always been you.”

It’s not true, Buck knows. It’s always been Kelly-and-Shay, it always will be Kelly-and-Shay, and he was never jealous of that. They love each other, are meant to grow old and gray and die together. They loved him too, once, and maybe they still do, but it’s not the same.

“Just shut up and let me save you,” he says, as Eddie finishes rigging up the rope and pulley.

He makes the mistake of looking back at her one more time and sees tears cutting tracks in the blood and grime on her face. “If I don’t make it out of this--”

“Don’t.”

“If I don’t make it out of this, Evan, just...tell Kelly I love him, okay?”

“You’re going to make it out of this.”

“I love you too, kid. Never stopped.”

Buck exchanges a tense glance with Eddie and hauls himself and the saw out the window without another word.

------

“That’s Buckley, isn’t it?” Kelly demands of the man wearing Captain’s gear and barking orders into a radio. He had come out of the upended train car looking tense and pissed off, and isn’t any happier when he rounds on Kelly. “What the hell is he doing?”

“Kelly, right?” Captain Nash asks, and he looks a little like he’d rather be punching Kelly than talking to him. “Your girlfriend is alive. And she’s going to stay that way, even if it kills Buck.”

Kelly doesn’t bother to correct him, or to respond to the barely veiled accusation in his words. He only has eyes for Buck and the shuddering, creaking train car he’s descending on a rope, putting his life at risk to save someone else’s. Just like Kelly has watched him do dozens of times before. Except it’s nothing like before, because he can’t stop thinking, I sent him in there. I sent him in there and now he might die. But it was for Shay, and it’s - it’s an impossible choice, Buck or Shay, the woman who’s never left his side or the love he chased away because he couldn’t see past his own grief. 

He would trade places with either of them in a heartbeat.

“Come on, Evan,” Kelly murmurs. “Come on. You’ve got this.”

Second half coming later this week.

[aj-writes-here]

may i request one where levi's s/o gets jealous over something, so they argue but end up having make up sex? i-

I just finished this one, and I hope you like how it turned out! Remember that if you have any comments, if it is too long, if you like it, if you didn’t, feel free to send anything!🤗 Also, this was the last request I had pending so if you want to request something else, go ahead. And btw I’m only doing Levi requests (HC and scenarios) at the moment, so that’s pretty much all I have to say😅

Only You (NSFW)

Who the hell had the idea of accepting the two newly transferred people? That guy Marlo seemed like a nice someone, but surprisingly the girl who arrived with him was not Hitch. And damn y/n wish it was Hitch instead of that new reckless girl. Since she arrived, her eyes were always on the Captain, and even y/n had heard her spitting some comments about 'how hot he was, with that cold stare and attitude' but for more than she wanted it, y/n couldn't answer back, in the end, her relationship with Levi was still an unknown fact for the cadets, only Hanji and Erwin were aware of that. And they were conscious of how Carla, the newly arrived cadet had her eyes laid on Levi. How could a squad leader be jealous of a younger girl who was a real headache? She was loud, annoying, narcissist and she was always saying she was better than the rest but... She was good. She had incredible skills, good with the ODM, at fighting. That's why Carla she had made it into Levi's squad.  

The truth is, that y/n was not someone jealous, she trusted Levi with her life and she knew he had no eyes for someone else. She was everything for him and he had told her that several times, but this new girl was getting on her nerves. It wasn't the first time Carla had obvious actions and everyone would notice her, that day after training was a clear example. She had 'troubles' at taking off her straps, the one on her right thigh. Or the time after an expedition when y/n saw Levi carrying her in bridal style because she had a 'sprained ankle',  or when she had stuck to him on cleaning day. Until then, she was just an annoying brat.

After an expedition, Levi's horse tripped and he ended up with slightly injured and with a discomfort feeling on his back, fortunately, nothing was broken and probably just a bruise. At the moment they were back inside the walls, y/n went to check on him to the infirmary, peaking his head just a bit, she saw  Carla was already there, using her hands to touch his back while he was trying to put his cravat back on, how was she so brave to be there, touching the Captain's back? y/n heard how he told her to go away in his style, and when Carla was out of the room, she spoke to her friend awaiting for her outside the infirmary.

—One week and the almighty Captain will be between my legs—Blinking an eye, she kept walking.

—Good luck trying—y/n answered back to herself, knowing the true meaning behind her words.  

She was trying not to even think about that girl. As said before, she was not someone jealous, but whenever she joined Levi on expeditions made her emotions react. That same day after dinner y/n went back to her room, the same room she shared with Levi. Taking a deep breath, she made her way in. Not wanting to argue, she just remained silent and went to her room to remove her straps, Levi noticed she seemed tired so he just focused on his cup of tea watching her moves. Once y/n was back where Levi was, he decided to break the silence.

—Oi, can you check my back? It feels fucking annoying—Standing up and taking his shirt off, he was surprised by his lover's words.

—Why don't you ask Carla to help you?—y/n had sworn she was not going to snap but she did. Damn her loose tongue.

—Is that why you've been acting weird all day? Don't be ridiculous, y/n.

—Ugh, come on. She's with you all day long. And if that was not enough, you ask her to join you on expeditions.

—Because she's good and she knows what she does, brat. That's the only reason.  And you know that in open fields it's better to keep the bests soldiers in different places. You're one of the bests, I need you covering other areas.

—That doesn't explain why she was touching you today—She gave him a fake smile, jealousy being more obvious than ever. y/n stood up to face Levi.

—So you were there—He lifted an eyebrow with the same boring expression on his face— At the moment I felt her filthy hand on my back, I told her to go away. And besides, I'm dating you, aren't I?

—She even told one of her friends you would be between her legs in one week—y/n rolled her eyes and walked away from Levi, she was trying to control her emotions, but it was hard to do.

—She's a brainless brat—He turned over and he was looking at her one more time—How long have you been stressing yourself out about this?

—A few weeks—She drifted her eyes away from his face, maybe she overreacted but she couldn't help it.

—Tch, you've been an idiot then. How could you think I would be interested in her?—He asked while walking towards her, leaving no space between her back and his desk—And just for your information, brat, the only legs I will be in between will be yours.

In that very same second, y/n felt a shiver running down her spine. She didn't even have the time to think because Levi took her by her hips and sat her over his desk, starting to kiss her neck. And she was not going to deny it, she loved it when he acted like that. His lips moved to her mouth, whispering.

—I don't want anyone but you, do you get it?—Again, he kissed her deeply for a few seconds. Moving back to her sensitive neck he articulated his words one more time— You are the only one I love and the only one I want to be with, brat.

y/n felt the wetness dampening the fabric of her panties, how the fuck could he turn her on so fast? He used both of his hands to grip her shirt and tear it firmly, making the buttons jump somewhere in the room. Yes, he had just ripped her shirt with no mercy.

Holding her by the sides of her torso, he set her on the floor, so he could get rid of her pants, and after touching his thighs all the way up, y/n sat on the desk on her own, comprehending his signs. Levi moved closer to her, and when she was about to kiss her he pulled away just to tease her, and slipped one finger on her panties, smiling internally when he felt how wet she was. He left a trail of kisses from her neck to her stomach, kneeling in front of her. Using his hands to spread her legs a little more he kissed the inner part of her thigs, knowing how much that drove her crazy.  Apparently, Levi was in the mood for ripping her clothes because this time her panties were the victim. Without giving her time to think, he used his tongue to lick along her entrance, making her moan and she gripped his hair tightly in her hand, bucking up her hips against him as a reflect. Levi eating her out was complete torture and y/n knew it, the movements of his tongue were slow, tasting every single space of her.  He grabbed her by her hips and dragged her closer to his face giving complete attention to her sensitive clit, flicking his tongue against it. y/n tugged his head against her, feeling her entire body on fire because of his attentions. She laid her head back letting out a loud moan, and that response only encouraged Levi to go faster. While all of his concentration was on her clit, he decided to use two of his fingers to go inside her, moving them rapidly. Levi was already uncomfortable at the feeling of his hardened length inside his pants, henceforth he used his free hand to touch his erection over the fabric trying to relieve the sensation. A loud moan escaped y/n mouth, claiming she was close. Bad idea. Levi was a tease and he loved it, so when he felt her walls clenching around his thin fingers he took them out, also stoping the movements of his mouth.

y/n cursed him and took him by his shirt to give him a heated kiss at the same time he used his sharp hand to take off her bra, exposing her breasts.

Eagerly, y/n laid one of her hands on his crotch, moaning on his mouth when she felt how hard he was already. A gasp left Levi's lips as he spoke.

—You are the only one who can provoke this—He said harshly—

—You have no idea how happy it makes me—Smiling against his lips, she unzipped his pants so she could touch it over his boxers.

—I can tell—Levi answered with a low voice, reaching for her lips one more time.

He only stopped touching her to put his pants and underwear down, suppressing a moan when y/n grabbed his shaft on her hand, stroking him slowly. Levi moved her closer to the edge of the desk, and knowing what was next, y/n laid her hands on the piece of wood as he aligned himself on her wet entrance.

Pushing his hips forward, y/n threw her head back, closing her eyes at the feeling. Her hands left the desk and they found a place on Levi's neck and shoulders, she needed to hold on to something while he was thrusting in and out of her. The pace was slow but his lunges were hard, he kissed her jaw as he kept moving his hips against her cursing under his breath at how tight she felt around him. y/n looked for his mouth, kissing him deeply and moaning over his mouth. Her hands were moving with complete freedom on his back, digging her nails from time to time.

When their lips were far away from each other, Levi laid his forehead on her shoulder and softly grunting on her skin, he was beyond gone in pleasure. His hands were touching her thigs as he started pounding faster into her.

—Fuck, Levi—She claimed his name with no shame— Just like that, keep going.

She uttered with a hectic voice, digging her nails even harder in his back and wrapping her legs around his waist so he could go deeper into her.

Even though Levi had great self-control, right now it was hard to achieve it, and right now he didn't care. He was not teasing her, or testing her limits. He was showing her that there was no other than her, that all of his affection, love, passion, and craving belong to her. And so did he.

Levi looked at her, loving all of her expressions. Her messed hair, that thin layer of sweat that was starting to cover her forehead, all of her. Damn,  she was perfect. He felt his lower stomach starting to knot up, he dug his fingers on her skin as he was feeling closer to release. y/n was not behind either, she could feel electricity running down her spine, feeling how her walls were clenching around his dick at the same time he was twitching inside her. Accelerating the rhythm of his thrusts, y/n could feel how she was falling from heaven when her climax took over her, letting out a loud moan from her mouth. Just a few seconds later Levi's body was on complete ecstasy, meeting his end on a release that made him shiver, a strangled groan coming out of his throat. Once he stopped his now slower movements, his forehead was still laying on her shoulder as they both tried to gain their breath back. y/n hold him tightly against her naked body.

—Oi, is it clear now that I just want you, brat?—Levi asked, moving his gaze to her reddish face.

—Very much—She replied with a lazy smile, cupping his cheek with her hand and kissing him.

—I love you, idiot. Only you—Levi laid his hand on her cheek and caressed her cheekbone, kissing her again. He could never get enough of her lips.

————————————

After taking a shower together, y/n changed into her sleep clothes, her shorts and one of Levi's shirts. She was about going to bed when a knock on the door stopped her actions, and since Levi was still in the bathroom, it was her who opened the door.

—Goodnight, Capt—The provocative face the girl had, turned to one of panic at seeing y/n.

—Carla?—She asked, eyes wide open.

—Squad Leader y/n. I-I—She couldn't find the words to say, and her face turned paler when she saw Levi leaving the bathroom only with a towel around his waist.

—Cadets are supposed to be sleeping at this time—Levi spoke— Get out of here before I make you and the rest run laps before the sun comes out.

They couldn't even saw the moment the girl left, she was faster than lightning. Honestly? y/n couldn't help but smile as she was closing the door. Once it was locked, she walked towards Levi.

—Do you realize that tomorrow all of them will be talking about us?—She asked with her eyes lifted and hug him by his lower back.

—It's about time they find out—Levi replied in a relaxed way, giving her a soft gaze after she kissed him.

It was sure that the girl would be telling everyone what she saw, Squad Leader y/n wearing Captain Levi's clothes, and the Captain walking out of the bathroom only wearing a towel. They had been keeping it a secret from the cadets for a year and a half, it was not a bad thing for them to know. Maybe in this way, the rumors about them and the deliberate flirting would cease, but it was clear now for y/n and Levi. They belong to each other, today and always.

[jobean12-blog]

Catch Me If You Can!

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,078

Summary: Playing pranks on Bucky is fun and you especially loves the way he reacts...

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ continuation of drunk drabbles and the super fun prompt below sent in by the loveliest @bugsbucky​ This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you all for reading! Love you all! ❤❤❤

Warnings: fun fluff, teasing, flirting, pranks, cursing, Bucky in a wet tee shirt...

The first time you pranked Bucky you were sure it would have been your last. Bucky was sitting on the common room couch reading his book when you asked him to help you reach something from the cabinet. He quickly got up and came to your rescue, easily grabbing the glass. While his back was turned you took his wallet off the coffee table and hid it.

“Thanks Buck! So much easier when I don’t have to climb or get the stool!” You gave him a hug which he happily returned and then ran off to your room. A few minutes later there was a knock at your door. “Come in!” The door opened revealing a confused looking Bucky. “Hey doll, have you seen my wallet? I thought I left it on the coffee table, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

“Hmmm, that’s weird right, did you check your room?” He shrugs his shoulders and smiles, “I’m gonna go do that now, let me know if you see it.” “Of course, no problem,” you say, hoping you don’t look guilty. When you hear the door to his room open you peek out of yours and check that he’s out of sight. You make a mad dash to the common room and retrieve his wallet from your hiding spot and put it right back where it originally was.

Lightly tapping on Bucky’s door, you ask, “any luck?” He lets out a frustrated sigh, “nope and it’s making me crazy because I could have sworn, I saw it there when I got up to get your glass. What did it get up and walk away?” Blowing out a raspberry you give him an apologetic look and ask, “want some help?” The two of you search his room with no luck. Finally, you throw your hands up and say, “why don’t we check the living room one more time, maybe it fell in the couch cushions or something.”

Bucky’s jaw is clenched but he agrees, following you out to the common room. “What the fuck,” he bellows, spotting his wallet sitting right where he left it. “I don’t get it?!?” He turns to you, looking exasperated. “At least you found it!” you say cheerfully. Pinning you with a look he stalks off with a growl.

The next time you go for something a bit sneakier. You were watching a movie with Sam, Wanda and Nat and Bucky fell asleep. When the movie ends everyone says goodnight and you tell them you’re just gonna throw a blanket over Bucky and head to bed. Instead, you go and get your collection of fake but very real looking spiders and carefully place them all over the couch and floor around Bucky. You manage to set them up without bursting into a fit of giggles and run off to bed.

The next morning you wake up to the loud shouts and curses of Bucky, spiders flying everywhere as he freaks out and flings them across the room. “What happened, Buck, OMG! You scared the shit out of me!” He doesn’t answer, just throws a handful of the spiders at you, causing you to yelp. “Someone is in big trouble,” he growls and storms off.

Your body involuntarily reacts, a shiver running down your spine at hearing him growl like that again. Chewing on your bottom lip your mind races with thoughts on how to get that sound out of him once more. With a snicker your last prank takes shape and you skip back to your room.

The next morning you get up early and head to the kitchen, knowing Bucky will be upstairs shortly to make his post work out shake. You check to make sure no one is around and place the tape under the faucet, securing it as best you can. Knowing you need to leave now if you want to disappear before he comes up you grab your phone off the counter and spin around. “Ooof!”

Strong arms wrap around your waist and steady you as Bucky’s scent surrounds you. “You ok, doll,” he asks, “you look like you’re in a real hurry?” You look up, Bucky’s smirk suspicious as he holds you to his chest. “No. No hurry, I just wasn’t paying attention is all.” He slowly releases you and moves to the sink, turning the cold on all the way.

“Yowwwwww,” he yells, jumping back as the cold water soaks his shirt and arms. “What the hell!” His chest rumbles with a low growl and you can’t help but stare, watching as he forcefully pulls the tape from the nozzle. He turns to you, his wet tee shirt clinging to his skin tightly enough that you can see the outline of his abs.

“Your shirt is soaked,” you deadpan, swallowing heavily as you watch the rise and fall of his chest. His devious smirk is back as he walks toward you, his finger pointed at your chest. “I know it was you. The wallet, the spiders and now this.” No words come out but you’re shaking your head “no,” as your back hits the wall.

“Don’t try to deny it, y/n. I could hear how fast your heart was beating when we were looking for my wallet and I do you really think I’m that light of a sleeper?” Your eyes search his and you blurt out, “then how do you know this was me?” His smile grows into something far more devilish, “I heard your breath hitch and heart rate pick up when I stormed out after the spiders. You’re enjoying making me mad, aren’t you?”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish but you’re at a loss for words. By now he has you pressed against the wall, the coldness of his wet tee shirt making you gasp. Bucky looks down then back up to you, his eyes gleaming. “Sorry,” he says before stepping back and lifting his shirt over his head. “Better?” he asks, before coming closer.

The “yes” that leaves your lips is so quiet only he can hear it as he dips his head. “What was that doll? I couldn’t hear you.” Your lips part with a small smirk of your own, this time the words coming out loud and clear, “yes, much better actually.” The familiar rumble of Bucky’s low growl fills the room before his lips press to yours, giving you what you want in more ways than one.

@aesthetical-bucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @bugsbucky​ @devynsdiary​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hawksmagnolia​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewelofwinter​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @metal-armed-cuddly-dork​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @the-wayward-robot​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​

[socialwriter]

Ch. 2-Diamonds are a girls best friend

Listen alongside- this and this

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

TW: Prostitution, sexual activities, mentions of homelessness, cursing, health issues

2.2k+ words

A/n- This is the second chapter of my moulin rouge series, I hope y’all enjoy, mwah

 The curtain rose, and JJ's mouth instantly went dry when the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walked onstage. Immediately, butterflies erupted in his chest. He realized that this mission of his was going to be much harder than he had initially anticipated…

Y/n strut on stage, hips swaying from side to side slightly. She had the routine down pat, knowing how to maximize tips for the night. Leaving the men of the audience wanting more, that’s how you keep them coming back for more. You push and push them, but don’t let them over the edge. Eventually, she landed center stage, the spotlight hitting her making the jewels on her body and costume glimmer. The entire audience was quiet, anticipation evident by the atmosphere. 

You were ready to begin. 

The silky notes left your throat, as looked up at the audience through your eyelashes, flirting with every man in the room all at once. Your eyes skimmed the audience, creating a connection with each and every person watching. After all, the larger the connection, the larger the tip. Though, your attention always drifted back to those middle booths. The money makers. You hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Topper before the show had begun for the night.

----

You’re putting the finishing touches of makeup on for the night, painting the red rouge on the lip when a knock was heard at the door. You breathe in, putting on your sultry look, preparing for an early customer, only to relax when you see it's just Topper likely here to tell you to break a leg. “There’s my star.” He said, a grin on his face as he opened his arms towards you. 

You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless walked over to him to give him a small hug and air kisses. Topper had always been able to see the shine and glimmer in you that you hadn’t been able to see in yourself. To yourself, you were just like any of the other performers, nothing special, but he saw something more in you. He had taken you in when you were left homeless at 14, giving you a job as a waitress before letting you perform when you were of age. He picked you up, dusted you off, and made you a beautiful star, though he said you didn’t need his help doing the last part.

“I’m just doing my job Top.” You retort, pulling away from the hugs. He just grins at you and shakes his head, surprised that after all these years you still had never learned to take a compliment. “And that’s why we pay you the big bucks.” He muses, before the smile falls on his face and he becomes serious. The mood change is abrupt, taking you aback. It looked like this wasn’t just his ritual check in before he started the show.

“I need your help.”

“When don’t you.”

Topper huffs and rolls his eyes, clearly not in the mood for jokes anymore. “Listen, you’re the first girl I’m telling this to, but we’re running low on money. We can’t afford the drinks, the costumes, the lights. Pretty soon we’ll be going under if we continue on this path.”

A small gasp escapes your lips and you look down, tears threatening to spill. This place and Topper had given you a home when you had nowhere else to turn to and now it may be in ruins? You saw other girls, in similar positions you had been in, depending on this place to pay the bills. Some of them had families and children to care form, and now they might suffer because of this place going under. “I hate to break it to you Top, but I don’t have any money to keep this place a float.

Topper shook his head instantly. “I know you don’t, trust me, I don’t think anyone that works here does. But one of our patrons tonight can save us, and I need your help convincing him to invest in us.” That was no shock to you. Topper had often asked you to pay special care to the top paying customers to ensure that they always came back for more, but never had the stakes been so high. “Who?”

“His name’s Rafe Cameron, Duke of Monroth. He’s been coming here on your nights off for the past few weeks, but I think we’re going to need you to give him the final push to give us the money. He always sits in a middle booth, as per usual with the bigwigs. Can you do this for me, for everyone here doll?”

You nod, a determined look in your eyes. “This Duke isn’t gonna know what hit him Top.”

---

You smile, eventually walking around the venue, collecting your bills on the different beats of the song. Everything was a show, and the people had to be entertained at all times.

When you start to approach the booth of the three bohemians, JJ pats down his pockets before realizing he doesn’t have any money to give. “Gimme some money.” He whisper-yells at the two men seated next to him, you were only one booth over. You were currently giving a show to someone who you didn’t realize yet was Rafe Cameron, and he was thoroughly impressed, enjoying the show but not tipping a cent. 

“I only have a $20.” Pope whisper-yells back, but you’re already walking, so JJ grabs the 20 dollar bill from Pope’s hand without his consent and grabs your wrist ,spinning you around. You’re shocked to say the least, and about to pull away from the rude customer. You may dance around and perform sexual acts in front of men, but you drew the line at consent. However, when you turned around, your breath hitched as you met the most beautiful blue eyes that you had ever seen. The unknown mystery man hands you $20 before getting on one knee and kissing the back of your hand. The tip is huge, and with the chivalrous attitude, you connect the dots in your head that this must be the duke Rafe Cameron. It looked like you would be seeing more of those mesmerizing blue eyes later tonight.

You start to walk away from who you assume is the duke, but not before turning around and blowing a kiss his way. JJ is practically swooning at this point, his eyes glued on you the entire time as he makes his way back to the booth with Pope and John B. “Man..you’re good.” John B mumbles, looking at JJ with only respect in his eyes. Pope, however, is a little less impressed, muttering, “You owe me $20” under his breath.

You stuff the 20 in your corset, making your way back to the stage before it feels like a ton of bricks have been piled onto your chest. You stumble upstage and lean on a wall, hoping that the dancers in front of you will distract the audience from whatever is happening to you. It's hard to breathe, and you don’t know what's happening, until you feel a hand on your shoulder and see Sarah’s worried eyes, Kie glancing over at you with concern in her eyes while she dances. Focusing on Sarah seems to pull you out of whatever funk you’re in and let you focus on breathing in and out again. Eventually, you feel like enough oxygen has filled your lungs as you start to walk back to the front of the stage, nodding to Sarah to let her know you’re ok. She reluctantly allows you to walk forward and finish the number, but makes sure to keep an eye on you for the rest of the night.

After belting out the final notes to the song, you’re met with applause from everyone, and you smile at them all. “I hope you all have enjoyed your time at the Moulin Rouge thus far. Now, who’s ready to dance?!” You ask the audience, earning whoops and hollers in response. The rest of the girls and yourself all start to walk off stage, the real performance of mingling with customers just beginning. 

John B and Pope, seeing you walking off stage, stand up abruptly. “Now’s your chance pal. Talk to Y/n, and we’ll distract Topper. Good luck bud.” John B says to JJ, before both boys leave heading over to Topper. “Hey Top, looking spiffy as always, that a new tie?” JJ hears Pope shout, causing him to chuckle and shake his head. Before he can start looking around to find you, you’re already in front of him, a light sheen of sweat on you from the rigorous performance that you had just given. “Hey handsome.”

JJ gulped, scratching that back of his head nervously. He had expected to have to pull you away from some rich scum to talk to you, and he had no clue as to why he would be the first man you approached. “Me handsome?” He asked, pointing to himself. Way to make yourself look like an idiot, JJ.

You just giggle, twirling some hair around your finger. You had half expected the duke to be some arrogant asshole that immediately wanted to get into you pants, but he was different. You catch yourself getting butterflies in your stomach at his goofy smile and pretty blue eyes, but try to push down the feeling. Your profession was not one for love. “Yes you, silly.”

You lean down so that your mouth is right next to his ear, your lips just barely brushing against his skin. “Care to dance?” JJ’s eyes widen slightly, and he looks you in the eyes. “Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?” 

Smirking, you shake your head at the blond, holding out your hand for him to take. “I like to switch things up, what can I say?” 

JJ takes your outstretched hand, standing and following you to the dance floor. “I’m, uh, not really a dancer, I actually do more music.” You look back at him, surprised by the information. Most men kept their mouths shut during this part, wanting the physical and nothing more. But not the man stood in front of you. He seemed genuine, nervous sure, but like he wanted you for your soul and not your body. You can’t help but smile at his awkward stance, glancing at the other girls and how they're dancing with their customers for the night. “Well, that means that you already got the hard part down. If you’re dancing to the beat, then you’re already doing better than most of the guys in here.” You tell him, smirking when his face turns a shade of pink. “Now come here.”

You pull him close, wrapping a leg around his hips so that your chests are pressed together, and your hands go up to his shoulders, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. JJ clears his throat, uncomfortable with how close you are, considering your dress is riding up so that your ass is almost hanging out. “You, um, you don’t have to do that, you know.” He says, looking you in the eyes. The smirk you had on your face falls, and you lower your leg. It looked like all the usual tricks wouldn’t work, like you had thought they might. Apparently this Rafe guy needed an emotional connection, which would be harder. You’d trained yourself to block out emotions, but this guy was demanding you to be vulnerable and be the real you, not the act that you put on. 

“Where did you come from?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can even really think of what you’re saying, and your eyes widen slightly, heat rising to your cheeks. You rest your head on the blond’s chest, praying that he hadn’t seen the blush on your face. But JJ had, and it made him fall in love with you even more. Seeing the real you, the real woman, the real person, not the performer and the act that you put up. He was determined, in that moment, to make you his, no matter the cost. “America.” He joked, causing you to snort, shaking your head before pulling away. Instantly, you both crave the other's touch. “I’ll be in my dressing room, hope to see you there.” You tell JJ before walking away, giving him one last parting glance. 

John B and Pope see you walk away from JJ, so they decide to quit pestering Topper to see how the mission with JJ and you was going. “So how’d it go man?” Pope questions. JJ is left speechless for a moment before glancing back at the two. “She invited me back to her dressing room.” John B and Pope both grin at JJ, the former patting him on the shoulder. “Well done, you go up there, talk to her uninterrupted, and we’re in for sure!” 

JJ nods, sending the two a half hearted smile before sneaking another glance at you. You approach Topper, a smile on your lips before you remember that you have to do this for professional reasons. “I’ve invited him back to my dressing room.” You inform Topper, causing him to grab you by the shoulder and kiss you on the cheek, grinning. “That’s my girl, I knew you could do it.” You can’t help but look back at the blond haired, blue eyed man, and resent the fact that you can’t help but blush when you see that he’s already looking at you.

Tags: 

@normatural @sarahcxmeron @bricksatanakinswindow @ssjiara @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @the-crackhead-next-door @perfektionsmakel @teamnick @danicarosaline @gracie-jo15 @jjmbanks​ @meandmymessyminds​ @keepingupwiththepogues​ @jjaybank​ @x-lulu​

[me-and-your-husband]

the winter soldier 2.0|| b. barnes

Summary: You’re being brainwashed by HYDRA like Bucky was. What the Avengers don’t know, was that you have a past with Steve and Bucky.

Warnings: Some swearing, angst, kidnapping, brainwashing, knifes, guns, fighting, all of that fun stuff, fluff to make up for the angst.

Pairing: Bucky x HYDRA!reader

Words: 1.2k

Characters: Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat, Tony, Bruce

A/N: italics mean flashback to the 40′s

          I put the black Dodge RAM in park, and stepped out, slamming the door. I huffed out a breath, seeing it accumulate in fog in front of my face. I scanned the bar in front of me, looking for escape routes, incase this whole thing goes awry. Three exits, the front door, the employee entrance/exit in the back, and the emergency exit door. I gave myself one reassuring nod, and walked around the truck to the back. I pulled the hatch down, and grabbed my duffel bag. Taking a quick look around me to make sure nobody was watching me, I unzipped my jacket and took off my sweatpants. My burgundy leather suit was revealed, and so were my black combat boots. I swept my messily-curled hair into a ponytail, and unzipped my duffel bag.  

      I grabbed a few hand grenades, just in case, and attached them to my utility belt. I put my knives where they should be; my thigh holster, utility belt, and one in my boot, by my ankle. I grabbed my pistol, and slid it into my other thigh holster. Lastly, I pulled my mask up, which covered the bottom half of my face, mouth and nose, and was the same color of my suit. I grabbed my High-Tech Assault Rifle that HYDRA supplied me with, like all of my weapons, my suit, and my training. I held it with one hand, and walked down the alley between the bar, and a cute rustic café. If I wasn't being ordered to kill people everyday, I might’ve gone there sometime.

     I brushed the thought aside, and climbed the cafe’s fire escape ladder. I lined up my aim with the huge window of the bar, where you could see a few of the Avengers laughing and drinking together, and took the pin of a grenade off with my mouth and threw it at the window. It was just a low-impact, so it wouldn’t cause too much damage to civilians. A loud explosion went off, and then screams. I took this as my chance, and jumped off of the two-story café. I aimed my gun around, looking for the man they call “The Winter Soldier”. 

“Dark hair, blue eyes, metal arm,” the commander had described him to me. 

I hid in the corner, with a few pieces of flaming debris, and recognized him. He was with the rest of the Avengers, calmly trying to get the civilians out of the flaming bar.

He was close enough to me that I could take a shot at him without equipping my scope onto my AR. I lined it up right with his head, and pulled the trigger. At the last second, he moved his metal arm up to deflect the bullet. I gave a frustrated huff, when I heard movement beside me. 

     Tony Stark, or rather, Iron Man in his suit, stood next to me, holding his hand up. Before he could charge his stabilizers fully, I threw my gun as I dove down, sliding through his legs strategically. I stood behind him, and reached over his shoulder to the arc reactor that powered his suit. Without that, he could only rely on his backup energy. I ripped the reactor out of his chest, and heard his suit power down. 

“Shit,” he yelled.

“Language!” said somebody from behind me. The enhanced hearing that I had, thanks to the Super-Soldier serum they gave me all those years ago, let me hear the vibrations in the air of a metal...disc?

   No, it was Captain America’s shield, which I ducked from just in time, so it ended up hitting Tony’s suit and ricocheting off. Cap caught it again, as Tony stepped out of his suit, and joined the rest of the team. I looked around for my gun, which I had left on the floor to the left of me. I lifted my hand to dive for it, but instead I was caught off-guard by a female voice.

“Don't even think about it,” said Black Widow, aiming a pistol at me. Even in casual clothes, they all looked heroic, carrying their weapons with them everywhere they went. I put my hands up slowly, wanting to show them I wasn’t going to try anything, even though that was very much not my plan. 

“You’re HYDRA,” Cap said, nodding toward the logo on my chest. My lips twisted into a smirk, and I nodded my head.

“What do you want,” said Bucky Barnes coldly. “Who are you?”

“They call me The Winter Soldier,” I said, staring him dead in the eyes. His face contorted from cold, to confused real quick, along with Cap, Tony, and Black Widow, the only Avengers that tagged along to their little get-together. “I was given that name after the Winter Soldier before me escaped HYDRA,” I said.

“That’s why you’re here, to take me back?” Bucky said, becoming enraged.

“No, I have no intentions of taking you back. Once I kill you, I’ll leave your body with your precious Avengers, and you can have a state funeral,” I said, distracting them enough for me to dive to my left and grab my gun. I hid behind the bar, and to my luck, the wall behind the bar was a mirror, so I could see them, but from where they were standing, they couldn't see me. I poked my head out a little bit, and started firing relentlessly at Bucky. He blocked each shot with his metal arm, as I dodged Natasha’s bullets and Steve’s shield. Tony worked on getting his suit back up and running, and I finally ran out of bullets. As I put another round in, I didn’t hear someone come up from behind me. 

    Bucky grabbed me by the collar, and pushed me against the wall. My mask muffled my yelp. He stared me dead in the eyes, and mine wandered to my gun. He grabbed my jaw and turned me head to face him. 

“Who are you really?” He asked, coming out in a sort of growl noise. When I didn’t answer, Steve came up beside him and asked me again. I let out a small chuckle at their confusion. Bucky’s metal arm came up and I thought he was going to punch the shit out of me, so I braced for impact. Surprisingly, it crashed down onto the wall beside my face. He lifted it to the bridge of my nose, and pulled down my mask in one swift motion. He took in a sharp breath, and let go of my collar. Steve’s eyes went wide with disbelief, and Bucky’s flesh hand covered his mouth. He pulled me in and embraced me, which resulted in me pushing him off of me. 

“Look, I don’t know who you think I am, but I was sent here to kill you. Let me get back to doing that,” I said, as I gained my strength back and grabbed my pistol from my thigh holster. 

     Bucky and I walked hand-in-hand down the pier in Brooklyn. He carried a picnic basket in his other hand, while I carried a green blanket in mine. 

“I can’t believe you’re going off to the war, Buck,” I said. “How will I sleep at night knowing you might not come back?” I asked him, my brows scrunched together. He stopped walking, and gave me that god-forsaken half smile. 

“I’ll write to you everyday, Doll. And I know I’ll come home, you know why?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Because I have something, someone, to come home to. My beautiful fiancée, who worries too much. Doll, I’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll just make the time we do have sweeter,” he said, which made me grin. He leaned down, so his lips were on mine. 

     Bucky, Steve and I had always been best friends since we were old enough to walk. Bucky was always getting Steve out of fights, and they were their own two, an iconic duo of two opposites. I didn’t have any friends myself, always too focused on my school work, and my nose deep in books. I wanted to prove the world wrong; that a girl could be just as smart as a man. Bucky and Steve seen that. They believed in me. I was top of all my classes, and ended up tutoring Steve and Bucky one summer. After that, we all just stuck together and stayed friends.

    Bucky first admitted his feelings for me four years ago, and I admitted that I reciprocated them. We have just recently become engaged, but then he found out he was being promoted to Sergeant, and we spent all the time in the world together. We included Steve of course, who was still trying to get into the army. We always tried to make sure he never felt like a third-wheel.

    The next day, Bucky went off to the war. I bid him farewell, through tears and sniffles. Even Bucky shed a couple tears. After, Steve and I went out for coffee. When he told me he had been accepted into the army, I expressed genuine concern for him, which caused an argument between us. I didn't get to apologize before he left, and I never saw Bucky or Steve again, as Bucky was dead and Steve was in the ice, but we didn't know that.

   I was visiting my late fiancé's grave on a late afternoon in May, when a black Volkswagen Beetle pulled up to the cemetery. They snatched me right from the graveyard, and nobody was ever to see me again either. 

Well, they did, but they never lived long enough to tell anyone that.

Now, I’m fighting off the Avengers with my fists, and it’s safe to say they’re losing.

   They all have blood all over, gashes, wounds, cuts, but Bucky still isn’t dead. I had no marks at all on me, as the soldiers wouldn’t let Tony and Nat cause harm to me. 

“We need to find away to sedate her, so we can bring her back to the tower, where Bruce and Tony can reverse the mind games,” Steve told the others, Bucky immediately agreeing. He still looked like a lost puppy every time I lunged at him, a knife clutched in my fist. 

I couldn’t help it. There was a feeling, deep down, stored somewhere in my brain, that told me to stop, that you felt for this man, but I didn’t listen. The only thing I could hear running through my head; Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

It was the programming. It wasn’t my fault. I promise.

Eventually, I was kicking Avenger ass. I had them all on the floor. Nat I had knocked out, Tony was slouched against a wall, and Steve was pretty damaged, so was Bucky. I was so caught up with trying to kill my predecessor, that I didn’t hear Tony calling Sam. 

“Just send Redwing. Bruce will load ‘er up with a standard anesthetic that will knock her out for a few hours,” Tony said through grunts into his phone. I ignored it.

I had a knife in front of Bucky’s chest, him using his metal arm to try and pull mine away, Steve trying to pull me off of Bucky by the hips, and failing. Bucky and I battled for strength, but it was hard with Steve pulling me. I hesitated for a second. One damn second, I second guessed my programming, and Bucky managed to wrestle me to the ground, the knife sliding across the floor out of my reach. He landed on top of me, using his arms to hold himself up. When I kicked and squirmed to get out, he pinned my arms down on the sides of my head, his heavy breath landing on my lips. 

    Out of the blue, there was a zooming noise, and a high-tech looking drone shot a vile of some liquid into my neck, and soon, I passed out under my target.

   When I came to, I was in a padded room, with one wall being a mirror. I knew immediately that it was a one-way mirror, and they were watching me right now. I’ve been a lab rat before, but this was different. I looked at myself in the mirror. My ponytail had fallen out during the fight, so my locks hung over my shoulders and down my back. They had confiscated all of my weapons, including my hidden ankle knife. I groaned, but was silently grateful that I wasn’t in a straight jacket. Again. Those things aren’t fun.

   I sat, with my head against the wall, thinking about how I got here. I cringed when I remembered what they’d do to me when I get back, or they send someone to come get me. I failed. I failed myself, my commander, HYDRA, everyone. They gave me the super soldier serum in the forties. They gifted me that, four times. Meaning I was Bucky and Steve twice. I should have been able to overpower them. It just took that one damn second of hesitation, and I could already see myself tied to a chair with a gag in my mouth, being burned, slashed, shot, so much more. This was the first mission I had ever failed.

   Soon, a short man with dark hair and a lab coat walked in to the room. I looked up, embarrassed from the tears that stained my cheeks. I wiped them away, and he came and crouched down beside me. 

“My name is Dr. Banner. I’m going to help you, y/n,” I said. I shook my head, and gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“Nobody can help me. I’m in too deep now. They’ll probably kill me anyways,” I mumbled.

“At least let us try,” said Dr. Banner. I looked up at him, and then noticed that Bucky, Steve, Nat, Tony, and Sam all stood behind him. I nodded, and Bucky slowly walked toward me. I looked up at him, and I think he sensed how tense and afraid I was. 

“It’s okay, Doll. I’m not gonna hurt you. Come, let's go to the lab so Bruce can help you remember me,” he said, holding out his hand with a small reassuring smile. I reluctantly took his hand and stood. He led me through the building, the rest of them following. Once we got to the lab, Bruce sat me down on the exam bed and asked me a few questions.

“Full Name?”

“Y/n y/m/n y/l/n,”

“Date of birth?” 

“D/O/B, 1918,”

A few more simple questions followed, which I answered.

“Okay. I’m gonna ask you to take your gloves off, I just need to put an IV in your hand. It’s routine,”

I nodded and obliged. I layed my gloves down on the table next to me, and gave Dr. Banner my left hand to put the IV in. He stopped when he took my hand, as Bucky’s jaw dropped. A look of confusion spread across my face. 

“She’s still wearing it!” Bucky exclaimed to Steve, who gathered around to look at your hand. Steve immediately broke out in a smile, and hugged his best friend.

“Oh, the ring?” I asked and the smile on Bucky’s face confirmed my answer. “Yeah, I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to take off,” I explained, the smile never leaving Bucky’s face. He rubbed a hand over his stubble. “I’m pretty sure, before HYRDA took me I had a husband, or a fiancé, but HYDRA wiped all memories of him from me.” I said, and Bucky’s smile faded, only a little.

“Well, let’s get to that remembering, then, hmm?” Dr. Banner said.

It’s been three months. Three months. Everyday, a new test. Nothing. Dr. Banner and Tony gave me some type of memory therapy the other day, and now they’re waiting a few days to see if it kicks in. I don’t have much faith in it anymore.

     I woke up this morning, and something felt, different. I was still in the bedroom that Tony gave me, but I just felt...different, I don't know. I assumed it was just my period, so I went to the bathroom to check, but no, it wasn't my period. I brushed it off and took a shower, got ready for my day, etcetera, all of the things normal people do in the mornings. I decided I needed to eat something, based off of the rumble coming from my stomach.

    I walked into the kitchen, wishing everyone a good morning. I grabbed a banana off of the counter, and ate it whilst leaning against the counter. When I was done, I walked over to the garbage to throw it out, but I didn’t see Bucky coming from the other way. I walked right into him and almost slipped, this new drug that Bruce has me on making me drowsy all the time, but he caught me, his metal arm on the small of my back. I looked into his eyes, and after a few seconds he pulled me back up, his hand still on my back. 

“You okay Doll?” He asked with a grin.

“Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath. My hand squeezed his flesh arm. That was it! 

“Huh?” He said with a bemused look on his face.

“Bucky! I remember! I remember you and me, we were on the pier the day before you left for the war. We were getting married!” I said, a huge smile on my lips, and my eyes brimming with tears. His eyes filled with water too, and he picked me up and held me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and nudged my nose into his neck. We stood like that for awhile, but then I pulled my head away from his neck. 

“I thought you were dead!” I said, and playfully hit his chest. He chuckled.

“I’m right here, baby,” he said, bringing his lips closer to mine. The kiss was long and passionate, sweet and longing. When we both pulled away for air, he took my left hand and kissed my palm. I moved it to cup his cheek, and he moved his hand on top of mine. “So, do you still want to marry me?” He said.

“Of course, Buck,”

[awkwardpenguinproductions]

Mission

Part 6 of the Dragon of the Yuyan

Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost

Please beware the tags!

Zuko crouches on the thick tree limb, bow poised and arrow nocked, and silently watches the small herd of fox-deer grazing down below. One of the animals shifts, and between one breath and the next, Zuko aims, pulls, and looses, downing a medium-sized buck. A split second later, Private Shun of Haili Squad looses and brings down a second buck. He catches his eye across the clearing and grins at him, feeling his facepaint crinkle a bit. Shun nods back, cracking a tiny smile of approval, his own Yuyan “mask” smooth and flawless.

The fox-deer have run off, spooked by two of their own dropping dead from flying sticks, and Zuko and Shun clean and dress the kills before lugging them back to camp.

Kai is mending a net and sulking a few feet away from the campfire as Zuko and Shun approach, and he turns to pout at them pathetically.

Zuko, Jiyoti won't let me help make dinner! He signs, puffing out his cheeks like a child, although his eyes twinkle behind his own facepaint mask.

Because we don't all want to die of food poisoning, dumbass, Jiyoti replies, rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue. On a bamboo mat in front of her is a pile of chopped tomato-chokes and a kitchen knife, while a pot full of boiling water and noodles hangs over the campfire.

Captain Hiroki is sitting nearby with the Captain of Haili Squad, Satomi, pouring over maps of the local terrain. He watches the conversation with a smirk, and signs, I have orders from Commander Toshiaki himself not to let you cook anything, Private Kai.

Kai groans silently and flops backward onto the ground. Why is everyone so mean to me?

Zuko places the fox-deer carcass on a bamboo mat that Mika spreads out, and gently kicks at Kai's hip. Cheer up, if you really want to help out, you can do the dishes after!

Somebody kill me please, Kai signs limply, wrinkling his nose.

Captain Satomi rolls her eyes. You'll have to wait until the mission's over, Private. We've got a job to do here.

Zuko butchers the two fox-deer, separating some of the meat out to be cooked fresh, and using his firebending to dry the rest into jerky. Jiyoti takes the fresh meat and spears it on thin sticks to roast over the fire, and once Zuko is done with the jerky, he takes over control of the fire while Mika and Haili Squad's sergeant, Ai, divvy the jerky up between the two squads' supplies.

After dinner, Captain Satomi orders the two squads to gather for a briefing.

We're a day out from Huzhen, where the Third Infantry Corps is waiting to take the last Earth Kingdom outpost west of the West Lake, she signs. The 63rd and 59th Divisions will reinforce the Third, while we keep watch on the rear and make sure the Earth Kingdom forces don't attempt to surprise our own. When we move out tomorrow, Haili Squad will take point and Chihese Squad will cover until we reach the Third's encampment.

Zuko isn't thrilled about having to trail behind two whole divisions of infantry all marching across the Earth Kingdom for a whole day, but at least he'll get to practice his tree-running.

The two squads and the divisions they're accompanying break camp the next morning and are formed up and marching as Agni rises before them. Zuko spends the morning leaping from tree limb to tree limb, racing Kai until the moron misses a step and gets a tree branch in the gut for his trouble, then following the cart Kai is assigned to "protect" and making stupid faces at him. The small force marches all day, eating on the go and only stopping for a few minutes at a time to refill waterskins as needed.

The sun is low behind them when they finally reach the Third Infantry Corps' encampment. The commanding officer of the Third, a Lieutenant General Hanzou, greets the arrivals and relieves the two Yuyan squads of their escort duty. Captains Satomi and Hiroki are to report to a strategy meeting in the morning with the rest of the Third's command staff, otherwise the squads are to stand down for the time being.

Zuko sleepily helps Kai pitch the tent, starts the campfire with an exhausted wave of his hand, and collapses into his bedroll with a silent sigh. It’s been a long week, and he has a split second to enjoy the idea of not having any real duties tomorrow before he's fast asleep.

As always, he rises with the sun, and joins the Third's firebenders in their morning meditation and drills before returning to his squad for breakfast. After a quick meal of fox-deer jerky and noodles, the captains go off to their meeting, while the sergeants drill the half-dozen privates for morning PT. After PT ends and the captains haven't returned, Zuko decides to spend his downtime exploring the Third's camp. He shimmies up a tall tree to get a good look at the lay of the land.

The Third Infantry Corps is camped on top of a bluff overlooking the village of Huzhen, which is a ramshackle cluster of buildings hugging the shore of the massive West Lake of the Earth Kingdom. Between the Third's camp and the village is a good half mile of open ground, which Zuko figures is where the battle with the Earth Kingdom forces camped just outside the village will take place. He peers at the haphazard collection of green tents huddled in a tight square less than a hundred feet from the edge of the lake, and his stomach sinks as he compares it to the sprawling complex of the Third's encampment on the bluff. He can't imagine such a small force, barely a company's worth, being so much trouble that a whole corps, made up of five divisions of Fire Nation Army Infantry, is needed to ensure victory. It feels a bit like treason, but he can't help but think that the Fire Nation Army's response to this situation is a little excessive.

But if there's anything his burning and abandonment has taught him, it's that nobody with any real power cares what he thinks.

Zuko leans back against the trunk of the tree and breathes. He can distantly hear the sounds of military life coming from the Third’s camp, and he lazily scans the neat assemblage of red tents until his eye falls on a dark, squat, rectangular box about the size of a mess tent. It’s a mobile prison, meant to contain earthbenders captured in battle, and Zuko is immediately on fire with curiosity. He’s never seen an earthbender before, and this could be his chance to get close without having to worry about them burying him alive or grinding him to a bloody paste between a pair of boulders. No one can bend metal, after all.

Zuko makes his way to the mobile prison, grinning and waving at the soldiers who called out friendly greetings, and ducking away from the ones who leer or swipe out at him.

The squat iron building seems much bigger now that Zuko is standing beside it than it had when Zuko had seen it from afar, but he shakes off his sudden nerves and circles around it. It’s made up of multiple panels of iron bolted together, with a single door and one long narrow window at the top of each panel for air. It can be put together in a matter of hours, and taken apart just as quickly.

“Who’s there?” A powerful male voice rings out from within. Zuko startles, then takes a running jump and lands lightly on the prison roof. Each panel of the roof has a large square barred window for light and air, and he approaches the closest one and peers down.

Narrowed green eyes glare murderously back. “Well?” Demands the hugely muscled man they, and the voice, belong to. “Who in Koh’s name are you? What do you want? If you’re just here to gawk, then you can go right on your merry way and leave us alone.”

Another man, with less muscles but an impressive brown beard, stomps over to join his fellow in glaring up at Zuko. “Something the matter, Corporal?”

“Got another visitor, Sergeant,” the corporal replies. “Not very chatty this time around.”

The sergeant’s face goes slack as he stares up at Zuko. “Oma and Shu, that’s one of those Yuyan demons!”

Demons? Zuko’s pretty sure no one in his Troop is a demon, except maybe Lan during that time of the month.

“For real, sir? A Yuyan?” The corporal asks, hostility melting slightly into curiosity.

The sergeant sneers. “Yeah, you can tell by the face markings and the uniform. They don’t talk, though, so good luck getting anything out of it.” The sergeant claps the corporal on the shoulder and ambles away to sit against the wall with some of the other earthbenders. The corporal stays where he is, fist propped on one hip and the other hand rubbing his stubbly chin, stance wide and firmly rooted as he stares up at Zuko. He almost looks… thoughtful, if Zuko is reading his face right.

“Hey up there,” he calls, far more curiosity than suspicion in his tone this time. “You understand Common?”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but obligingly taps out yes.

The corporal blinks, and his mouth works a bit without sound. Zuko wonders if the man actually expected a response.

“Does… does that mean yes?” The man asks, voice slow and careful, as though Zuko is a mongoose lizard about to spit poison.

Zuko taps out yes again.

A broad grin spreads across the corporal’s face. “Wow, okay, what’s “no”, then?”

Zuko taps out no, then again when the corporal asks. Then, seemingly emboldened by their interaction so far, the corporal asks, "Are you actually a demon?"

Zuko wants to bang his head against the metal, but settles for a simple no.

The corporal smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, had to ask. Nobody's ever gotten close enough to one of you to find out for sure. My name's Hwan. Do you have a name?"

Of course Zuko has a name. But he can't teach this Earth Kingdom corporal the signal language, Captain Hiroki would throw a fit, and Commander Toshiaki would never let Zuko out of the Stronghold again. So he can't actually tell Corporal Hwan his name.

And why would he even want to? He wonders to himself. These are earthbenders. They're savages who refuse to submit to Fire Nation superiority. Earthbenders killed Lu Ten, and broke Uncle Iroh's spirit. Why is he even thinking about trying to communicate with them?

But how superior can the Fire Nation be when they sacrifice their own for a meaningless victory? When the response to a tired, bedraggled force on the verge of surrender is overwhelming numbers?

Yes, Zuko taps out.

"Huh, I don't know a lot of Fire Nation names… is it Lee?"

Honestly, that would've been a really good guess––Lee is a popular name in the Fire Nation. Zuko shrugs, and taps out yes.

Hwan lights up like a Solstice firework. "Awesome, first guess! Is it true that the Yuyan Archers are non-benders?"

Yes.

"Wow, that's amazing. I'm an earthbender, I can't imagine not being able to bend," Hwan says, then looks around himself and bares his teeth in a sheepish grimace. "Of course, that was before I was put in here."

Now that is a question Zuko would love answered. What in Agni's name is Hwan and his unit doing here? Why are they being held prisoner on the front lines? Most prisoners of war captured in battle are immediately sent back to holding facilities within Fire Nation territory, either to be ransomed for their Fire Nation equivalents (not that there are many, given that any Fire Nation soldier would rather fight to the death than be taken captive) or to be conscripted into labor for mines and factories that supply the war effort. Depending on how long ago Hwan's unit had been taken, they should've been sent on their way long before Zuko and the Archers had arrived.

Hwan asks more questions, and Zuko marvels as everything he was ever taught about Earth Kingdom people is systematically proven wrong. Hwan is friendly, inquisitive, and intelligent, and honestly makes Zuko wish he could talk without having a panic attack because he has so many questions. The other men in Hwan's unit scowl and glower and mutter darkly, but Hwan happily chatters at Zuko without regard for their status as enemy combatants, and it blows Zuko's mind.

A gong sounds, signaling evening mess. Zuko has to go back to the Yuyan camp, or Captain Hiroki will send someone to retrieve him.

"Do you have to go?" Hwan asks.

Yes, Zuko taps out, reluctantly.

The Earth Kingdom soldier bites his lip, looking conflicted. "Will you… come back? When you can?"

Zuko blinks. While their interaction has been pleasant, and for Zuko, rather eye-opening, he hadn't expected Hwan to want to continue talking to him.

Yes, Zuko replies, resolving to steal some writing supplies to use on his next visit.

"Bye then! See you next time!" Hwan calls, waving. Zuko waves back, leaps off the mobile prison, and books it back to the camp, mind whirling.

Normally Zuko wolfs his food down at meals, partially a holdover from his six months of surviving in the wilderness where every second he lingered over food was one more second something stronger and fiercer than he was could steal it from him, and partially so that he could use his hands to sign with his squad and his other friends. Tonight he eats slowly, thoughtfully, turning over his odd conversation with Corporal Hwan of the Earth Kingdom Army in his mind. Kai has to snap his fingers five times to get Zuko's attention, but before his best friend can even position his hands to sign, Captain Satomi is already doing so.

Squads, fall in for briefing, she orders. Zuko puts aside his noodles and does his best to focus.

The Third Infantry Corps will move out at dawn tomorrow morning, she says, and then pauses to draw a diagram in the dirt. The 63rd and 59th Divisions will flank the Third on either side, surrounding the enemy. Chihese and Haili Squads will be stationed along the bluff to protect the Third's rear. We'll move out before dawn to select perches. Everyone needs to do a weapons check and get a good night's sleep tonight.

Zuko suppresses a sigh and goes to his bedroll. With sure, practiced fingers, he checks over his arrows and his bow, waxes his extra bowstrings, and sharpens his dao and throwing knives. Looks like he won't be visiting his new friend any time soon.

Getting up before dawn is easy for a firebender who meditates with the rising sun, but getting his non-bender best friend up is a process as long and tedious as filing expense reports with the rice counters back in Caldera. Zuko finally resorts to kicking Kai in the ass, hard, which does the trick but results in Kai shooting him baleful looks all through the hurried breakfast of cold onigiri. Zuko ignores him. This is his first real military action, and he is not going to let Kai's determination to sleep in ruin it for him.

The squads split up, with Chihese going northwest and Haili going northeast. The bluff is lined with scraggly tree-bushes, and every couple dozen feet, a squad member sets up a nest. Zuko is positioned between Jiyoti on his right and Mika on his left. He sets down his swords (he would only need them if things went completely to Koh's lair in a handbasket), resettles his quiver on his back, and strings his bow. Sunrise is moments away.

The sky lightens as the Earth Kingdom forces array themselves before the village. Zuko digs out his spyglass from his pack and raises it to his eye. His initial estimate of the enemy's numbers was pretty accurate: there's barely two hundred Earth Kingdom soldiers on the field.

As dawn breaks, the Third Infantry Corps marches out onto the field. Lieutenant General Hanzou and two of his close subordinates ride out on mongoose lizards to meet the Earth Kingdom commander, but the meeting is only a few minutes and both parties return to their respective forces.

A horn sounds, and the Earth Kingdom soldiers roar in response.

A small group of Fire Nation soldiers move forward to meet them, but something is wrong. They're shuffling awkwardly, not marching, and it seems like… they're being prodded along… at spearpoint?

Zuko raises his spyglass, frowning.

The uniforms on these soldiers are ill-fitting… too tight across backs and shoulders, and bunching too much at joints. There's also… shackles?... around the soldiers' wrists and ankles…

Zuko's insides twist.

One of the soldiers turns around, and Zuko's heart stops. Hwan.

The huge earthbender's eyes are wide and his face is pallid in the frame of the Fire Nation helmet on his head.

The disguised Earth Kingdom soldiers shout in terror as their comrades on the other side of the field charge.

Rocks whistle as they fly.

The air fills with screams.

Zuko feels numb. He feels like throwing up. But he can't look away.

The Earth Kingdom soldiers are merciless. If they realize that they are fighting their own brethren, they don't show it. The disguised captives try to scramble backwards, but they're chained hand and foot to each other. They're stuck, and the Earth Kingdom soldiers are relentless.

The captives are slaughtered, one and all.

In the echoing silence after the last boulder falls, all Zuko can hear is his heart thundering in his ears. A quintet of Earth Kingdom soldiers creep out of their trench and approach the dead. Wails rise up as they realize what has happened.

Then an arrow flies, trailing a crimson ribbon. The Third roars in unison and attacks.

In minutes that feel like days, the Earth Kingdom soldiers are all but wiped out. The 59th and 63rd Divisions move in less because they are needed, and more because they want to join in the fun. The Earth Kingdom company is torn to shreds like a fox-deer under the claws of a tigerdillo.

Zuko drops his bow, sweeps his dao out of the way, and vomits.

Then he curls forward with his forehead pressing into the dirt and sobs.

Previous | Next

[edelwoodsouls]

maybe in another universe - ch. 2 [fic]

Jon isn’t expecting anything good when he’s evacuated to the countryside. Living with his crush rival he can just about handle. The secret magical world in the upstairs wardrobe, on the other hand, might just break him.

AKA: Narnia AU

Word Count: 3,570 | Also on Ao3 | Chapters: 1,

chapter two: in the land of the watcher

It's raining.

No, that's not really a good word for it. The skies have split open and are casting down an ocean, and usually Martin would thrive, curl up with a collection of Keats or Wordsworth and have melancholy thoughts as he stares at the grey clouds above.

But no such luck. He's been forced out of his room by Ms Perry, the iron-fisted housekeeper - all four of the teenagers have been relegated to the library, where they can supposedly do as little harm as possible.

It's a tense affair. Basira is curled on one of the sofas with an Ancient Greek to English dictionary and a battered book that looks like it's been set on fire several times. Melanie has managed to pry one of the ceremonial swords off the wall, and is practicing swinging it at precarious angles.

Jon is most definitely not reading the crumbling tome clutched in his hands, though he's trying very hard to pretend. Martin can feel the eyes boring into him, sat where he is in the middle of the room, legs crossed in front of a large, malfunctioning radio.

He's been trying to get it fixed for what feels like hours now, to cling to the pulse of information that has been snatched away in this remote and antiquated house. He can feel Jon getting closer and closer to the end of his very thin patience with every jump of static.

After what feels like the millionth time of almost, when he can feel Jon's irritation about to froth at his lips, Martin finally throws his screwdriver on the ground. The silence in the room is overbearing. "Let's play a game."

"Yes," Melanie says immediately, accentuating the word with an alarming jab of her sword in his direction. "What're you thinking?"

"Hide and seek," Basira chimes in, looking up from her book with a smirk. "This house looks brilliant for it."

"I second that," Melanie nods. "Martin?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Sounds like fun."

"Three votes for hide and seek. It's decided then."

"Don't I get a vote?" Jon mutters, not looking up from where he's gripping his book very tightly.

"No, Jon, you don't, because you're a spoilsport and you'll suggest something like re-alphabetising the library or being good little so and sos. And even if you did, majority rules. So-" Melanie thrusts her sword an inch from Jon's face, "buck up and join in, or fuck off."

Jon looks about ready to attempt murder with his bare hands, but before he can get a word out, Melanie throws her sword dramatically onto the floor with a loud clatter, and closes her eyes. "ONE... TWO... THREE..."

Martin grins as he pulls himself off the floor and flees for the door. It's been a long time since he's felt young enough to play games, let alone had the friends to play them with. There's something so childish, so delightful, about running in a place not meant for running, folding himself into somewhere hidden and waiting with baited breath to be found.

Being hunted, without the consequence of failure.

Jon barrels past him, arms flailing. Martin's never seen him run but god, he's fast. He shoots down the corridor and vanishes behind a flurry of curtains.

Martin continues on until he reaches a closed door. Behind him he can hear Melanie's counting, yelled at the top of her lungs - no doubt the housekeeper will kill them later for disturbing the professor. She's nearly finished, and the adrenaline pounding in Martin's veins is reaching heights it hasn't in weeks, and he needs a hiding place now.

There's a spider's web strung in the corner of the doorway, a tiny house spider nestled at it's centre. Almost invisible, if not for Martin's keen eyes, his bone-deep expectation that he'll find at least one no matter where he goes.

It's just a spider, he tells himself, and the thought sounds hollow even to him.

But he throws open the bolt of the door anyway and tumbles into the room, slamming it haphazardly closed.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the door, and that's why it takes him so long to notice the ornate wardrobe at the other end of the room. There's nothing else here, as if this space was designed solely to house a single piece of furniture.

And it's beautiful, deep maroon wood carved with all sorts of imagery Martin can't make sense of - eyes staring out unblinking from one door, webs strung across the other, both surrounded and wreathed in flames.

Some nameless thing in his gut calls him forward.

The click of those carved doors opening sounds too loud, like the snap of fingers right beside his ear. A breeze dances across his cheeks, though the doors and windows are closed, and the collection of coats inside are still.

Without thinking, he delves in.

<linebreak>

He should be surprised by the winter wonderland at the back of the wardrobe.

Somehow, he isn't.

The world in the wardrobe seems to go on forever. He's been wandering for miles, he's certain of it - the chill is beginning to set into his fingers, kept at bay only by the adrenaline still humming through his body at the sheer magic of it all.

Suddenly, ever pretending that magic wasn't real seems like such a childish thing to do. It's right here, in front of him. The snow soaks through his shoes, collects in his hair. His breath puffs in little clouds before his face.

Just an hour ago, he was staring at a dreary English afternoon.

He's definitely not in England anymore.

Still, even with all this magical strangeness, he's not expecting the lamp post. Stood proudly alone in a clearing, as if the other trees have shrunk away from its alien material. It's lit, casting a faint glow on the snow, and he can hear the burn of gas inside the glass.

He stops short. "What."

He hovers at the edge of the clearing, unwilling to disturb the perfect snow circling this strange spectacle. It feels reverent, deferential - something that shouldn't be here, even with all its magic. It feels wrong.

"You're not from around here."

Martin yelps, attempting to spin around too fast to look behind him. Instead he trips over his own feet and goes tumbling into the snow, sending eruptions of white powder up into air.

The voice that startled him laughs, a low and dry sound. "Sorry, friend. Didn't mean to startle you."

Martin's view is obscured by his damp curls and the snow beginning to drip into his eyes, but he just about makes out the hand gloved in fingerless black leather thrust into his face. Each joint is marked with ink, and Martin could swear every symbol is a wide, unblinking eye.

He accepts the proffered hand instinctively, hauled up with surprising strength into standing on his feet.

"Thanks," Martin says, cheeks bright pink not just from the cold.

The figure laughs again, shifts into the pool of light under the lamp post - and Martin gets his first real look at the man. Long, inky hair falling into his eyes. His clothes are a mismatch of leather and dark-dyed fabric that look old, in a way that defies a specific era of fashion but gives a distinctly archaic feel.

The guy brushes his hair behind his ear, revealing his face - five o'clock shadow curving along his sharp jawline, and the longest eyelashes Martin's ever seen, and bright, dark eyes.

For a moment, Martin short-circuits.

"Do you have a habit of falling head over heels for strangers?" the man grins. From deep in his pockets he procurs a metal lighter and a pipe. He leans easily against the lamp post, as if it's totally meant to be there, and takes a drag. The smoke that reaches Martin is strangely sweet and spiced, like cinnamon and cloves.

"Uh, no," Martin says, brushing the snow off his clothes distractedly. "You just startled me."

"I'm very sorry," the guy says. He sounds more amused than anything. "Where are my manners? I'm Gerry."

"Martin."

"Nice to meet you, Martin. You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," Martin frowns. "How did you know?"

"Well, for one thing, you're human."

"I'm- sorry?"

"Human. Homosapien. Son of Adam. Take your pic, really, there are so very many labels."

"I guess? Are you-"

Martin cuts himself off as Gerry shifts his weight and the folds of his clothes settle differently, revealing his legs. Unlike the rest of his ensemble, they're clothed in fur that looks like it was originally some ochre shade, and has been dyed rather shoddily black.

Except they're not clothed...

"You're a goat," Martin blurts out, nonplussed, the filter between mouth and brain paper thin.

"I'm a satyr," Gerry frowns in mock admonishment. "Hint two that you're not from around here - that's incredibly rude of you."

"Oh! Uh, sorry."

"I'm messing with you, Martin," Gery grins, a glint-toothed expression that makes Martin slightly dizzy. "But yes, I'm not human. No one born under the eye of the Ceaseless Watcher is."

"I'm sorry, the...?"

"Ceaseless Watcher." Gerry's easy grin flickers, his eyes darting towards the trees. Martin follows him instinctively, but sees nothing except the vanishing darkness of the trees. "The god of Magnus."

"And Magnus is...?" Martin feels very far behind in this conversation.

"This land. Everything you can see in this winter world, from sea to mountains to sky- that's Magnus."

"Right... so I got here how?"

Gerry shrugs. "Who can say, really. The magic here is- unpredictable. Has a mind of its own."

"Magic," Martin repeats. Unsure how to feel about this word being thrown out like they're talking about gravity, or the alphabet - institutional. Factual.

"Magic," Gerry agrees, smirking at Martin's bemused expression.

He should really be getting back. The thought appears distantly, lethargically. He's getting cold, and the others will no doubt be getting worried about him. Or Melanie will, at least. He can imagine Jon rolling his eyes. He's probably gotten stuck somewhere and can't get out. He'll come wandering in eventually.

But Martin doesn't really want to leave. He wants to continue on this adventure, explore this world that believes in magic like it believes in the sunrise each morning.

He wants to keep talking to this mysterious, incredibly pretty man. Goat. Satyr.

"You look cold," Gerry notes, offering Martin a drag of his pipe. Martin accepts more out of instinct than anything, cringeing as the fumes make him choke. "Come back to mine for tea? I just got some amazing jasmin tea from a dryad who owed me a favour, and I promise it's worth the walk."

Martin hesitates, for just a moment. Considers the risks of wandering off with a strange man he met in the woods.

"Just as long as it's not oolong," he says eventually, with a shudder. "I'd love to."

Gerry loops their arms together and begins leading him into the woods. "No oolong, I promise."

<linebreak>

Gerry, as it turns out, lives in a cave.

It's a very nice cave, Martin has to admit. The walls are lined with bookshelves packed to bursting - tomes titled in some language he can't read that, as he stares at the letters, suddenly begin to make sense. The floor is covered up by rugs, vibrantly coloured and filled with detail. He feels almost guilty stepping onto them with his wet shoes, walking over intricately stitched faces and landscapes.

He turns to see Gerry tapping the snow off his hooves with a cute little dance, before shrugging off his long leather coat, revealing a waistcoat - and nothing else - beneath. Martin can see now, without a doubt, the thickly haired legs beneath his long grey skirt. There are burn scars crawling across his bare arms - across most available skin.

There are more eye tattoos, too, starkly black against his pale skin. When Martin stares for too long, he's convinced he can see some of them blink.

"Take a seat," Gerry says, nodding towards a pair of invitingly soft arm chairs positioned next to a fireplace.

As Martin sinks thankfully into the chair - he hasn't had to walk that far, possible ever - he watches, transfixed, as Gerry flicks his hand in the direction of the fireplace.

It bursts to life instantly.

"How did you do that?" he asks, eyes wide.

"What?" Gerry blinks momentarily. "Oh, that- magic. A gift from the Lightless Flame."

"The Lightless Flame?"

"One of the gods of Magnus."

"I thought you said the- the Ceaseless Watcher was the god of Magnus?"

Gerry lets out a laugh, low and bitter. "The only one that matters. All the others have... not faded, exactly. Retreated, you could say. Bowed down. The Ceaseless Watcher rules these lands. All others pay subservience."

"Right." The dark tone in Gerry's voice is beginning to unnerve him.

"Doesn't mean there aren't those of us who don't give a shit," Gerry shrugs, that easy demeanour plastering over the top of whatever just slipped out - though now Martin has seen it, the mask doesn't quite seem to fit. "We pay what we have to, to stay alive."

Martin nods wordlessly. He can understand that.

"I'll just make some tea," Gerry continues, darting up some steps towards what Martin assumes must be a kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable!"

Martin adjusts in his seat. Breathes in the quiet, broken only by the steady crackling of the fire beside him. He can feel it, already, beginning to scare the chill from his fingers, beginning to lull any of his hesitations.

A strange rush of adrenaline floods him suddenly at the thought. He sits up, threads his fingers together, eyes darting around the space.

He's forgotten what it is to be comfortable, he realises. This feeling lowering him gently into calm is unnatural, alien - and not to be trusted.

Before he can begin to think about that too deeply, Gerry reappears, two steaming cups in hand. Martin accepts it gratefully, trying to shelve his discomfort for another day's mental spiral.

He'd hate to ruin the first nice thing to happen to him in a while.

"Is it always so cold here?" he asks, taking a careful sip and sighing as it warms him almost instantly. "Where I came from, it was summer. I mean, it was a horribly rainy summer, but still."

Gerry lets out a small laugh. "It's always winter here."

"Always? Like, never anything else?"

"That is the definition of always. But yes, that's the general idea. Summer is too- positive, for Magnus. Winter is hopeless and dreary and lonely. There is far more to fear in a winter's night."

"That's not at all ominous."

"The lack of change is terrible, too," Gerry continues. His eyes are fixed on the fire, the flames casting strange shadows across his skin. "We don't even get Christmas to look forward to."

"You have Christmas?" Martin frowns. "In Magnus? As a concept, at least? I thought that was a particular religious holiday in my world."

Gerry shrugs noncommittally. "There are many winter traditions that overlap. Some things bleed from one world to another. Maybe it started here, for all you know."

Martin opens his mouth to argue about the improbability of all this, but quickly shuts it again. He's only just been introduced to magic and other worlds - and he's pretty sure logic isn't going to enter the equation any time soon.

"What's it like in your world?" Gerry asks suddenly, fixing Martin with a curious, almost hungry look. "Much better than here, I'd suppose."

"I wouldn't count on it," Martin laughs sharply. "There's a huge war going on. Thousands die on the battlefield. Thousands more die back home as the world sets itself on fire. It's- a nightmare."

Martin curls his hands close around his cup, letting the heat burn his hands. The pain sharpens his senses, grounds him in this moment, before memories of smoke and flame can consume him.

"I'm sorrry," Gerry says softly. "That sounds awful."

"Heh," Martin tries for a weak, concillatory smile, though he's sure it falls short. He covers it up with another sip of tea.

Gerry starts talking again, but Martin can barely hear the words. There's a sudden distance to the world, for all that he clings harder to his scalding mug, for all he tries to keep his eyes wide. The sound is muffled, and his vision of the room is beginning to blur.

He has just enough time to look at his cup of tea, at the earthy sediment he can just about make out swirling at the bottom, before understanding, and horror, and a hundred other things crash into him.

But he's asleep before his cup hits the floor.

<linebreak>

He wakes slumped in the armchair, and for a moment can't remember where he is. The fire has been snuffed out, leaving only smoking remains, and the chill is beginning to leach back into Martin's bones.

The cave is dark. Martin shifts, groggy- and regains his senses with a suddenly sharpness as he catches movement on the other side of the room.

Gerry is hunched on the stairs towards the kitchen, staring vacantly at his hands, at the eyes on his knuckles. He doesn't seem to notice Martin at all.

"Gerry?" Martin says softly, standing up carefully. His cup lies in shards on the floor, a pool of stone-cold tea leaking from the ruins. He can't remember dropping it.

He can't remember falling asleep.

"I'm sorry," Gerry whispers, so quietly it's barely more than a snatch of air.

"Why?" A chill trickles down Martin's spine; it's nothing to do with the cold of the room. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he repeats. "I didn't- I don't want-"

"Gerry," Martin says, and there's an edge of steel in his voice that doesn't leave room for debate. "Tell me what's happening."

The satyr looks up finally, and somehow Martin isn't surprised that his eyes are glowing bright green, like lanterns in the dark.

"We pay what we have to, to stay alive."

The chill in Martin's veins solidifies to ice. "What did you pay? What do you have to do?"

He already knows the answer, in the hummingbird beat of his heart, in the shortness of his own breath. And still, it feels like a hammer blow, like the slam of a coffin lid, when Gerry speaks.

"You."

"Me?"

"Humans," Gerry says, voice rough and shaking, like he's barely holding himself together. "They aren't native to these lands. They don't exist here. If they ever come, if there's enough of them, they say the end of the Ceaseless Watcher will be near. The world will finally change."

"I'm just one person, though."

"Not for long," Gerry shakes his head emphatically. "Where there's one, more will always follow. So- he kills them."

"Who kills them?" Martin demands. "Stop being so fucking cryptic and explain things to me."

"The pupil of the eye."

Martin is just about ready to hit this guy.

"We're supposed to give him any humans we find," Gerry rushes to explain. "I'm supposed to send you to him."

"But you're not going to, right?" Martin says slowly, inching towards the poker by the fire. It's an impromptu weapon, but it just might buy him a few seconds. "Because I dazzled you so much with my company that you've decided to have a change of heart?"

For a moment, the silence stretches, and Martin is certain he's about to have to fight for his life.

Even with all the unexplained magic in his life, he doesn't like his chances.

Something changes in Gerry's face. He sets his jaw, balls his fists. He blinks, and his eyes return to their normal, unfathomably dark shade.

"No," he says. "I'm not going to. Come on."

Before Martin has a chance to register anything, Gerry seizes his hand and drags him out into the snow.

They run. For what feels like hours, rushing past a blur of trees and ice and rock so fast Martin is sure it must be some type of magic. Gerry's grip is vice-like, but Martin only clings harder.

He imagines bombs falling behind him. A world of darkness and debris, too hot for the season as fires burn through its skyline.

Has he really just traded one daydream-turned-nightmare for another?

When they reach the lamp post's clearing, Gerry skids to a sudden stop, kicking up snow in a shower. He turns to Martin, wild-eyed with a feverish adrenaline.

"You know your way frrom here?" he demands, gripping Martin's arms and searching his face for the answer before he has a chance to speak.

"Uh- yeah- I think so," Martin stutters.

"Good. You need to run. Don't stop, don't talk to anyone - or anything, not even yourself. The trees might hear you."

"The trees?"

"There are eyes everywhere."

Somehow, Martin gets the feeling Gerry isn't being figurative.

"What about you?" he asks. "If the- pupil of the eye, what if he finds out you didn't turn me over?"

Gerry gives him a pained smile. "Run, Martin. While you still have the chance."

"But-"

"I'm so glad to have met you." The way Gerry says this, so softly, so sincerely, brings Martin up short. "Now go."

He doesn't need telling again. With one final, memorising glance at Gerry, a dark figure among a landscape of snow-

Martin flees into the dying night.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Oooooh I am very much looking forward to seeing this B and Demetri and Connor dynamic!

“Hey Manning, I almost thought you wouldn’t show… Oh you brought the dog.”

An eye roll but the handler kept his smile in place. 

“He still looks like a handful, he’d eat this little one alive.” A  gentle tug and Demetri moved obediently to stand in front of the handler with his head still bowed.

Connor turned, keeping one arm tightly around B. 

 "Yeah, he goes everywhere I go, now. You think I want to be in that hotel bed by myself? Show me the stray." 

 When Demetri moved out in front, Connor blinked with no particular memory sparking. He'd seen a lot of pets come through before he quit. "Oh, okay. This is him? He's pretty."

When B saw who was waiting from them he couldn't have been happier to be there. "Demetri!" He gasped, wiggling out of Connor's tight grip on him to rush forward and slam his hands on the desk. His eyes tracked the hands on his dear friends' back and he growled and curled his top lip to bare his silver canines. "Let 'im go... Right now."

The handler recoiled and unconsciously yanked Demetri back with him, startling the blond into looking up. 

There was a vague recognition of the name that felt almost like his own but drifted too far out of reach to grasp. He stayed pressed to the handler for a long moment before a faint smile cracked through his panicked expression.

 He could hardly believe his luck of who had come to save him. 

 He could never forget B’s face, the only kind face he had known for years and had been grieving the loss of for too long. 

After a moment of stunned but elated staring he squirmed away from the handler, no longer needing the man’s reassurance. 

 Demetri skirted round the desk and launched himself at B with all the strength he could muster, clinging on to the familiar source of comfort without concern for the other two men watching the display. He hissed through his teeth when he bumped the sliced up brand against B but still refused to let go. He was terrified if he let go it wouldn’t be real anymore. He would still be on the street lost and afraid.

Connor stared blankly at B as he ran forward. 

He barely had time to open his mouth to order him to drop the aggression before the hot little blond had jumped forwards too, and the two pets were holding each other. "What the fuck...?" He blinked rapidly, then looked at the other handler and gave a shrug. 

 "Hey." He gave a quick, low whistle to get B's attention. "You know 'im, baby?"

B couldn't believe it, sure that he was dreaming and he'd be woken up by a soft touch on his shoulder and be back in the truck again. "I... How?" 

His words stuck in his throat, his chest swelling with light as he caught the boy flinging himself onto him. He held him tightly, rocking him from side to side like he used to do and tucking Demetri's head under his chin. 

 At the sound of the whistle B looked up, eyes glossy and a smile splitting across his face. "Yes! Yes, sir! This... This is Demetri... He was... He was Mister Rossi's pet..." He said, feeling the tension in the other and the pained hiss. 

 "W-Wait... You're hurt..." He murmured, gently pulling him back to look at Demetri's chest. "Oh..." He noticed the blood staining through his shirt. "Oh ... isn't that... Hey... Dem-... Pretty? You alrigh', lad?"

The handler behind the desk couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping, everyone had heard rumours that Rossi’s pet had been run through the system but of course his links to WRU were very hushed up. 

 “Fuck.. that’s Rossi’s pet? Shit, we probably need to let someone know, who was his primary? They’ll know how to reach him.” 

 Demetri let all of the distress from the moment Rossi had dropped him on the street drain out of his body. B was safe, B could protect him. He glanced at the man who had whistled, the dark hair and eyes were disturbingly similar to Rossi but this one seemed less of a threat. 

 There wasn’t a response until B used the correct name and Demetri glanced down at the spotting on the pale grey shirt, staining the fabric. He tugged the neckline down and exposed the damaged brand, it was bleeding a little from slamming into B with such eagerness but was obviously deliberately done. “It’s... it’s fine... I was good, I didn’t move I swear.”

"Oh, Jesus fuck, not those assholes," Connor muttered, feeling a drop in his stomach. B was so excited, he'd be heartbroken when Rossi showed back up to take his pet back- 

 Then Demetri pulled back enough to pull down the neckline of his shirt and Connor's eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. He held up a hand. "Gonna guess you don't need to call Rossi," He said to the other handler, moving closer to take a better look, leaning over with one hand on B's back, casually possessive. "Look at that. That's not amateur work and it wasn't done mad. Bet you fifty bucks Rossi did that himself."

B blinked, struck by the horror of what had happened to his friend. And fury at Rossi. He had never been good to him unless it had served him a purpose. And he used him and hurt him. 

Demetri had been changed by this place as much as he was. Because of him. 

 "It was him..." B said lowly, leaning instinctively into the touch on his back and looking at Connor. "He ... He hurt him. He can't go back to him, sir." B's voice cracked slightly, trembling slightly as he carefully angled Demetri so he could hold him without pushing into the wound. "Please... Connor. He needs to come home with us."

Demetri laid his head on B’s shoulder, offering up a smile to the man who was now close to them. If B trusted him then this man, whose face Demetri was still trying to place, he would have blind allegiance without question from Demetri. 

The handler had shifted around the desk to get a better look, a small piece of scarring was untouched, the only suggestion there had been a brand under all the slices. “Shit, they’re always so much harder to sell on with this kind of damage. I’ll have to see if anyone has space for a refurb this week before he gets a fucking infection..” 

Even with the dog cradling the blond so possessively, the handler never expected that Connor would want to take on more damaged goods.

Connor had a reputation for how he dealt with pets, he couldn’t possibly want this emotionally fragile little wisp of a pet. 

 Demetri lifted his hand and gently traced over B’s chest, the firm planes of muscle just as he remembered them. Capable of so much damage while only ever trying to protect him. His voice was a low wistful murmur. “I missed you B... I wanted you to come home.”

Connor frowned, watching the two pets together. B was always gentle as a lamb with other pets, whether it was Socks or when he was in the Facility training. And B so rarely asked for a single thing for himself - he just took what Connor gave him with gratitude and adoration. 

But he was asking for this. 

Connor moved forward, taking Demetri's chin in his thumb and fingers to tilt it up and look at him, at his eyes. 

 "Baby," He said to B while looking Demetri over, "Baby, I am not a halfway house for stray pets. I can't just bring home every pretty thing that catches your eye..."

B kept his arms tightly wrapped around Demetri, allowing him to touch his chest. His own brand still stung from time to time. But Connor had transformed it. And he hadn't cast him aside when he did. 

 "Missed you too... I missed you so much... I'm sorry..." He rumbled, burying his face into Demetri's hair. He swallowed the lump in his throat, loosening his grip slightly to allow his owner to look over Demetri. 

 He crushed down the urge to smack Connor's hands off him. Connor was kind. Connor wouldn't hurt him. 

"He's... He's not just Pretty..." B murmured. "He's Demetri... He's my ... my friend... I... I love him very much, sir. He needs to be with us... He can be good for you too. He's very good."

Demetri tipped his head with the slightest pressure from Connor, turning his face until he met the man’s dark eyes. There was no hiding his enjoyment at even the barest of contact, the gentleness was what he craved. 

 The handler scoffed from a few feet away, he was still wary of the dog. He had heard about the state of the rookies after a tangle with it and now it had something to guard. But Manning had a point, surely here wasn’t going to let his dog tell him what to do. 

 “You’re not running a charity Manning, don’t want people to talk. The boy’s got Romantic training, the clinic can clean up the wounds and he’ll be on his knees for some cheapskate client in a week or two. He is very pretty..” 

 Demetri couldn’t hide the fear that shone in his eyes, he was supposed to be for Rossi. He should go back to Rossi... but they were talking like Rossi didn’t want him... like he wasn’t good enough. 

He prayed he could stay with B, not daring to want it yet, he could at least understand Connor was in control. Teeth caught his lower lip, his head tipped to the most attractive angle as he all but batted his eyelashes up at Connor. Classic Romantic look, perfected to be irresistible, combined with the low needy whine, most people caved and gave him some attention at that point.

Connor bristled a little at B pushing him in front of the other handler. While technically he wasn't one anymore, he still sure as fuck didn't like the idea of someone looking down on him for being pet-whipped. 

Some owners got that way, spoiling the shit out of their pets and treating them like real people, and Connor had mocked plenty of those in his time. He definitely didn't want to invite the same mockery from the other handler. 

 "Baby, I think I decide what we need in my house, yeah?" His voice was still mostly gentle, but there was an edge of irritation, a warning there. He'd never really hurt B beyond the bedroom - and they did plenty of that, which was perfect and B did so well - but a couple of days barred from petting Socks or the barn cats usually did the trick for discipline. 

 He watched Demetri tilt his head just the right way, blinking at him. "Yeah, he was definitely one of ours. Rossi's pet..." His voice trailed, off, turning Demetri's head to the side, catching faint scarring along his jaw. "Wait, didn't I fuck you once?"

B swallowed thickly, chest tightening at the edge to Connor's voice. He bowed his head hastily. "Yessir... M'sorry, sir... I'm... I just... I thought we could..." He mumbled, heat spreading across his cheeks. 

He had forgotten his place. He wasn't allowed to want things. That wasn't his place at all. 

 He took a small step back, keeping his head lowered reverently.

Demetri still felt the little flutter of panic when people caught sight of the scars. If you aren’t Pretty what’s the point in keeping you around? 

At least Connor didn’t seem put off by them, in fact his words reached into the blond’s scrambled brain and plucked out a memory with shocking clarity. He grinned, a warm natural expression rather than one designed to entice. “Asshole number two...” 

Flickers of shared food, kneeling for the man, the heated mat and a few hours reprieve danced through his mind, they didn’t linger but he knew enough to know this was one of the nice ones. His attention turned back to B who was visibly distressed. 

Without hesitation Demetri was nuzzling his cheek and sliding his hands under B’s shirt. His usual conflict resolution skills kicked in without a second thought, he needed to make B happy, he needed to be good. 

“Shit, are you taking him or not? I would really rather avoid the paperwork and not have him fuck your dog in the lobby.” The handler just needed to wash his hands of this. Rossi was trouble and he needed to avoid that if he wanted to get taken off of desk duty.

Connor took a deep breath, watching the embarrassment and sadness on his dog's face, and then audibly groaned, putting a hand up over his face. Jesus, if B turned on the fucking waterworks he'd be totally lost, right in front of the other handler. 

 "Yeah, fuck. Yeah. Damn it. Baby, you know I hate when you-... fuck." 

Connor sighed and waved his hand at the handler. "Yeah, fine, okay. Just... just whatever means we don't have to call that piece of shit two-bit mob boss." 

 He took Demetri by one arm, pulling him closer to himself and slightly away from B. 

 "This is not because you made your sad face at me, sweetness. It is not. Now come on, we're going outside to figure this shit out a little bit and get you two out of the lobby before someone calls the cops for public indecency." He moved towards the door, pulling Demetri with him, trusting B to fall in as well without even a glance back.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Monsta X during Sex

A/n: @ddaengbaepsae basically cowrote this, bless her thotty brain

Warnings: Just pure filth, kinda soft though shut up I’m soft for them

Word Count: 2656

Son Hyunwoo (Shownu)

Welp he’s big all over folks

Stay safe, use lube

It’ll be fine he’s a big teddy bear

He might hurt you but he’d never mean to

He’s not the type to fuck around he’s definitely a one woman man

He’d be slow to initiate a physical relationship, too, he’s a shy baby under all those muscles

Not at all the jealous type you could thirst over another member right in front of his salad and he’d be like “You’re right, Jooheon does have juicy thighs”

Only very specific situations would make him feel possessive

For example if he comes home and you’re wearing Hoseok’s hoodie

His ears start turning red and you have no idea why

Rips it off you all hungry kisses hands everywhere

You’re shook when he gets a little rough with you, bites your shoulder when he comes

While you’re getting dressed after he puts his hoodie on you with a kiss and a sheepish smile

Missionary, lots of slow strokes, kissing

He’s a hard worker tho if you know what I mean 👀👀

Worries about your pleasure over his

High-key oblivious to you seducing him

You can suck chocolate off his fingers and he’s like “Jagi I can buy more chocolate, relax.”

You can strip off your clothes and he’ll be like “oh should I run you a bath?”

You’ll have to deadass put your hand on his dick for him to get it

He’ll be all blushy at first but then he’ll kiss you hard

So good at oral look at those lips sis. Won’t even ask you to reciprocate but would be so grateful if you do, stroking your hair, a little praise “You’re so good to me, Jagi.”

He’s so shy about asking for what he wants in general but if you do something he likes once, he’ll ket you know by his body language, throw his head back and buck those dancer’s hips

He isn’t very vocal at first but he’ll get a little more comfortable he’s never actually loud

Unless you sit on his face

Don’t @me Nunu loves it

This is when he’s loud, all deep throated moans and he’ll go hard, you’re gonna forget your own name, sis

He loves curves, loves you in white and lace

He is not a one night stand guy he’s a serial monogamist for sure

If he’s fucking you he’s in love I don’t make the rules

He’s fairly vanilla and he’d be highkey worried he’d hurt you if you were into choking or something like that

He would try anything for the person he loves but he’d be uncomfortable if it were something rough

He knows how to move, we all know that, so in any case you’re a very happy girl

Yoo Kihyun

So Ki wants you a lady in the streets

You start dating him thinking you got this traditional boy from a conservative household

But behind closed doors…

“Why are you wearing panties? You don’t need those here.”

He’ll buy you expensive lingerie just to fucking RUIN it

Look you leave his place sweaty and sticky and covered in hickeys

It’s a real walk of shame

He wants you a MESS the first few times he won’t even fuck you because he wants you hooked on him before he ever puts it in

You gotta beg for it every fucking time

But when he finally does you best be ready

He’ll have you ass up on all fours trying to blow out your back

Saying shit like “This is what you wanted, yeah? Wanted me to fuck you like my pretty little whore?”

You’re fucking SHOOK

Also he IS low-key a nice boy like in public he’s making you cover up your marks and shit

But the minute you get a little chummy with one of the other boys he’s ripping off your scarf like “oops”

He’s not that loud bc he’s focused on making you loud af

But he’s a real dirty talker he’ll whisper some shit to you at a restaurant that’ll make your legs shake

He’s the type to make you take off your panties in the bathroom and when you come back he’s talking intently with the boys while he just runs one hand along your inner thighs to tease you

He will be loud if you let him fuck your mouth tho (and you will please who are we kidding?)

“That’s my good girl. My sweet whore.” Throaty moans

Low-key kinky he’ll just randomly buy a riding crop and ship it to your house with a note like “tonight?”

He would love you in a diamond collar

Nothing even remotely submissive about this man

He’s a good time but you better be ready he doesn’t play if you’re his you’re his no questions no complaints

Lee Jooheon

What a fun time

But also such a fucking tease

Another one who wants you messy and keening

Acts all innocent when you beg all wide eyed “What do you mean, princess, I’m barely touching you? You’re so needy today.” All dimpled smirk

But he’ll fuck the life outta you right after

Also just a sidenote he’s got a fast tongue you know that vibrating thing? King of that

He sends you texts all day at work 50% sexts 50% sweet like “when are you coming to see me? I miss you.”

He is a s w i t c h you can’t change my mind

But he’s a brat if he lets you top, so whiny and desperate and he’ll know exactly what will make you give in.

Has a bit of a praise kink tbh so he might be a good boy just for that

When he doms he’s soft tho all praise all the time

He’ll praise you for being a brat be like “oh, I love it when you’re feisty. Do that again.”

Jooheon likes ass sis the more the better if you got cake and wear tight jeans around him you won’t be wearing them long

You gonna have handprints on that booty like at all times

Loves doggy style so much

Adventurous he would definitely fuck you somewhere public like a parking garage or a public bathroom he gets off on adrenaline for sure

High sex drive, all over you when you’re busy working from home and when you’re finally like “ok ok I’m done let’s do this” he’s barely touching you skating his mouth over your skin just to give you chills

Loves to show you off wants you looking like a bad bitch when he takes you out he loves it when you make heads turn

He’s not exactly possessive but he does want all your attention at first he’ll use aegyo and be pouty to try and get you to pay attention to him

If that doesn’t work then he’ll use that Libra seductiveness

LOUD AF

Particularly during blowjobs he will wake the dead “Please please please…” So desperate and whiny

Unironically refers to you as “his girl” like you meet his friends and he’s like “this is my girl”

Down for anything he’ll make all your kinks and fantasies a reality

Loves you wearing something revealing kisses all your exposed skin big open mouthed kisses

Softest sweetest cuddler afterward

Would be the BEST fwb

Chae Hyungwon

He strikes me as the the type to have a fwb for a real long time or be a serial monogamist

King of the long, deep, slow stroke game

You can beg him to go faster all you want but his patience will end you

Lots of stamina we’re talking all night y'all every single time

No quickies here you gotta carve out 2 hours in your schedule minimum

Look at that mouth phew you’re gonna need a good two hours to recover after he goes down on you too

It’ll take a while he can breathe through his ears you feel me

He’s pretty vanilla at heart but he’ll choke the shit outta you if that’s what you want, tie you up, whatever he ain’t scared

King of morning sex I just know it

Sleepy, slow, sweet morning sex

Have you in your feelings when the sun is barely up

SUCH a good kisser, wow

Mostly dominant in bed but he loves you on top

You have fingerprint bruises on your hips at all times

He doesn’t get possessive much at all he’s confident he’s got you on lock

If he does he’ll just throw shade at the dude you’re flirting with and fuck you an hour longer that night to remind you why you’re with him

One of those shuts the kitty down for two full days types, tbh he’s low-key BIG

Big big praise during blowjobs if you give the good succ he gonna fall in love

“Your tongue is sinful, you know that? You look so beautiful with your mouth full.”

Like before you fuck him the first time you’re worries he’ll be boring in bed because he’s quiet and sweet on dates

Then one night he kisses you goodnight and suddenly presses you against the wall, lips right by your ear: “You’re inviting me in, yeah?”

You’re like “Yes SIR”

After about an hour and a half you’re exhausted and sweating, muscles sore and he’s deadass asleep with one arm thrown around you

He’s full of surprises

Lee Hosoek (Wonho)

You first see him and your instincts tell you to run he’s gotta be a whole fuckboy

He wants to be and he’ll try but he’s s o f t

He would do a one night stand and then take you to breakfast and text you two hours later asking if you wanna hang out again

You’re absolutely shocked when he calls you the next day because the sex is definitely not soft

At least not at first

At first he’s throwing you up against walls, pulling your hair, all whiny moans and praises “God, look at you, all spread out like a whore for me.”

And he’ll keep it up but he gets low-key sweet as he inevitably catches feelings

Starts going down on you all the time, being a real tease, slow licks, two fingers in and out

Moans against you it makes him so hard to taste you

The cuddliest baby afterward

High-key possessive don’t even think about flirting he’ll have you backed into a corner marking your throat and breasts up in front of God and everybody

Wants a lot of attention but mostly wants to give you a lot of attention

I don’t know if a louder boy exists tbh

Good luck keeping any of your private times private he’s such a moaner, pleads with you, dirty talker esp when you give him head

“You’re gonna make me come so hard, will you open your mouth and let me see it on your tongue?”

He’ll want so many nudes of you

He strikes me as a real ass man just like Joo

He WILL eat the booty like groceries

He’ll try to wife you if you like anal but sis bring a lot of lube

BIG BIG BIG

Like he knows he’s big but he doesn’t realize how big

Scary big

“You wanna put that where?” Big

He’d sub he’s a switch he’s a good boy too

He is not too proud to beg and he’ll wear your hickies like a badge of honor

He’s strong he loves to manhandle you, throw you over his shoulder and smack your ass, standing sex in the shower holding on to your hips as he bucks up into you

Proud of his body and never wears a shirt around you if he doesn’t have to

Big boyfriend material though despite his fuckboy charm he is loyal and sweet

Lee Minhyuk

He might be a fuckboy look I know he seems soft but there’s a strong demon in there

I feel like he lives to make women fall for him but may or may not catch feelings himself

He’s the type to woo you hard and then kind of ghost you because he’s in too deep

Down for anything sexually a big switch

He’ll be excited to try new things and beg to hear your dirtiest fantasies

Sexually manipulative, he’ll talk you into anything

He’s so much fun but what a wildcard one night will be just missionary and kissing the next y'all are trying out every position in the Kama sutra

Talks a lot, praise, especially when you are on top

Whiny moans, bucking his hips but trying to be a good boy

He👏 loves 👏curves I cannot emphasize this enough

He’s fucking you from behind waxing poetic

“You’re so sexy. The curve of your spine, the way your lower back dips just before…” Skating his hands along your ass before he grabs a handful

He’s always touching you during, hands and mouth everywhere, soft open mouthed kisses on your throat, your breast, your thighs

King of foreplay

He’ll just touch you everywhere, run his hands along your things as he kisses you, your back, your arms, has you trembling before he ever gets to a sweet spot

Loves to overstimulate you but he’ll let you to it to him, too, he loves making you a mess but he’ll love being a mess for you too

Would love you to tie him up he’s a good boy

If he so desires he’ll turn the tables so quick it’s scary, though, he can talk you into anything, remember?

Absolutely an angel in aftercare, sweetest boy, bring you water and snacks to prepare for round two

Im Changkyun (i.m)

The biggest fucking tease

Will dirty talk you until you are weak in the knees

Sexts you in the middle of the day

“Remember when you rode me from behind? Let’s do that again tonight.”

He doesn’t forget a single moment because he’s watching everything, how your face looks when you’re close, the sounds you make

Inside a week he knows exactly what you’re weak for and will use it to his advantage

Teases you mercilessly when he goes down on you, but when you do come it’s overstimulation city he’s moaning against you and coaxing a second orgasm right after the first

He loves to bite you, oh boy, your inner thighs are covered

But that moan he lets out when you bite his neck? He loves to be marked

Cocky, arrogant in bed at first “I know what you like.”

But as he catches feelings he’s more open with you when he’s inside you than he ever is outside of bed

Emotionally attached to sex so when he starts to fall in love it gets even better

He starts to praise you instead of talking shit

Loves you on top, the awe on his face

Breathy, low moans instead of those usual grunts and growls

“Honey, you kill me, you know that? You were made to fit around my cock, yeah?”

He tries out every position but always ends up in missionary, looking in your eyes, kissing you hard and hungry

He memorizes every curve of your body, every face you pull when you’re coming apart because he wants to be able to call it up when he’s away

Low-key body worship when he’s in his feelings

His praise is very personal, too, he’ll talk about how the freckles on your shoulders are constellations, kiss everyone while he’s fucking you from behind

He makes sure you know what he sees in you

If you want to top him he’ll agree and let you but pretend he’s not into it until you really get going

You’ll break him the first time, he’ll beg you, hips bucking, so loud

He needs a girl who can do both

If you’re bad bitch down for anything he’ll fall in love on sight

So soft in the mornings, Eskimo kisses, murmured praise

[kenzieam]

Not You - Chapter Three

@jewels2876​​​​​​​​  @moonbeambucky​​​​​​​  @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​​​​​​​​  @iammarylastar​​​​​​​​@captstefanbrandt​​​​​​​​  @badassbaker​​​​​​​​  @pinknerdpanda​​​​​​​​  

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

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Rating: M

Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut, major angst, drama, potential infidelity

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FEEDBACK IS LIFE, Y’ALL! Thank you so much for all the feedback so far!!

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Things come to a head.... sort of....

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The next morning brought grudging consciousness and Bucky lay on his bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, trying to decide on a plan of attack. He needed to figure this out and fast.

He couldn’t keep living the way he was, shambling though life dragging these chains, chains that weren’t his to possess anyway, had never been his to take.

Lev was with Sam, and she’d made it clear that whatever Bucky had felt, or thought, he’d felt, was entirely one-sided.

He had today off, despite his best efforts to secure a shift and a shit-ton of errands to run, real life didn’t stop just because you were trapped in a self-made hell.

At least there were no nail scratches on his back today to sting in the shower.

That evening, Bucky returned to the apartment; he’d managed to drag out most of the day and, hopefully, Steve wouldn’t be there now, either down at Sam’s or on a date or hell, maybe even at work.

No such luck.

The blonde man was there, on the couch, barely paying attention to the TV in front of him.

He was waiting for Bucky, ready for a confrontation that was long overdue.

There was no use trying to delay, not anymore. Steve was nothing if not persistent. Bucky leaned against the doorframe and waited.

“What the fuck, man?” Steve finally asked, without turning his head. His voice was low and controlled but just barely. Finally, he turned and glared at his oldest friend. “You’ve been a ghost for weeks now. You’re never home, you’re never around, when I do see you, you look like you’re two seconds from collapsing. And what ever happened with that Valentina girl? You were all tied up in that woman and now nothing…. What. Is. Going. On?”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky walked slowly towards Steve, perching awkwardly on the armchair nearby. He heaved a breath, stabbing his hands through his hair. “It’s her.”

Steve waited silently, but his brows shot up in a mix of confusion and dawning realization.

“Lev…. Is Valentina.”

“What?” He spat the words, but shock made his voice waver.

“The girl at the bar… Valentina.”

“Is Lev?” Steve asked, disbelieving.

Bucky nodded miserably.

“What… How the hell-” Steve broke off, shaking his head.

Fisting his hands so hard the nails bit into his palms, Bucky took a deep breath and opened his chest to expose his broken heart. “I didn’t know… until I saw her with Sam. I couldn’t… I couldn’t even….it wasn’t until we left to get chips that I could find the words to ask, you know, what the fuck…. And Valentina is her middle name, because why would you give your real name to a stranger at a bar?” He shook his head and growled ruefully. “And she didn’t say anything about a boyfriend because that’s what all single girls say, right?”

Steve frowned, trying to piece it all together in his head. “So-”

“So, I fell for a girl that isn’t mine to have. And when I laid it out to her, said I couldn’t just let go of what I felt between us… she said ‘no’, that there was nothing there and to drop it.” He shook his head, dropping is hands to hang between his knees. “And then she takes Sam off for a quick fuck-”

Steve grunted in surprise, the final pieces falling together.

“And I couldn’t sit there anymore and listen to that… so I left.”

“Jesus, man.” Steve groaned, sitting back against the couch and rubbing at his neck. The anger on his face, the confused hurt had morphed to shame and sorrow. “I don’t know what to say.”

Bucky exhaled a breath, feeling a weight leave his chest. Telling Steve hadn’t solved his problems, but it had shared the load. “And fuck me… I can’t get her out of my head, no matter how hard I try, all the shifts I work, all the random girls I’ve fucked… all I see is her. All I want is her.”

Steve was silent for a long while, eyes lingering on Bucky until his friend’s pain was too much then looking away. Wiping his mouth, he finally spoke but there was nothing he could really say to alleviate Bucky’s suffering and they both knew it. “I’m sorry, James. That’s a hell of a mess and… I should have asked you sooner instead of just watching you sink.”

Bucky nodded silently, then delivered the coup de grace, the simple fact that kept him awake at nights. “And even if by some miracle she did feel even a fraction of what I feel for her, and she decided to break up with Sam…. A friend’s ex is off-limits, period.”

Steve groaned, leaning forwards, face in his hands before sighing heavily and scrubbing his face roughly before straightening. “I’m sorry, man.” He said simply, a vast depth of pain darkening his eyes for his oldest friend’s predicament, the seeming hopelessness of it. For even if Bucky could move past his attraction to Lev, which seemed unlikely based on his inability to put it behind him so far, he would still see her every time he saw Sam, be reminded of what might have been, what had torn his heart out because he couldn’t have it, every single time he interacted with his friend.

And what if Sam and Lev married? As a friend, Bucky might be asked to be a groomsman at the wedding, a front-fucking-row seat to watch the remainder of his heart break, the fragments of hope shatter and disappear. Be forced to celebrate the destruction of his dreams, sacrificed for the joy of another.

It was a shitty situation, all around.

Bucky exhaled, sounding rueful. “Sorry man, but you asked.”

Steve offered a weak chuckle. “Yeah, I did. I never imagined it was something like that, though. Buck, what are you going to do? You can’t keep doing this.” He motioned to Bucky’s appearance, for even though he’d showered this morning after mooning around in bed, and the outside air had given him some colour, his eyes were dull, dark circles around them, a heavy cloud of invisible sorrow making the air suffocating around his body.

“I know, buddy. I know.” Bucky muttered.

“Well, how about you come out with me tonight? I’m meeting a couple of work mates, we’re just going to have a few drinks, unwind from that last contract.”

Bucky raised a brow, but Steve answered him before he could speak. “Nah, Sam didn’t say he was coming.”

Bucky considered it, he needed to get out of his head, but he was still too deep in his own misery to be much more than a drag tonight. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to stay in tonight.”

Steve studied him carefully before sighing and reaching out to grab a pen and notepad on the coffee table. He scrawled an address and a cell number on it. “We’ll be here,” he explained. “And call this number if I don’t answer my own, it’s Jack’s and he’s attached to the goddamn thing, if I don’t hear the ring, he will.”

Bucky nodded, taking the slip of paper with a half-hearted smile.

“You going to order in?” Steve asked, obviously trying to keep Bucky’s thoughts from cratering again.

A shrug was his answer. “Maybe?”

“Well, if you get Chinese, get me some General Tso, I’ll eat it tomorrow.”

Bucky made a face, he hated General Tso, mainly just to bug Steve who, if he had a choice, would never experiment beyond the dish.

Steve smirked, knowing Bucky’s exact line of thought, this wasn’t the first time they’d argued good-naturedly over takeout. “And egg rolls.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and saluted. He’d probably order wonton soup know just to mess with Steve and that would be fine too.

As Steve stood to go get ready, Bucky grabbed the remote and started aimlessly surfing, finally deciding on a movie. A few minutes later, Steve left, offering Bucky another chance to join him, a nod of commiseration and encouraging smile when it was again rejected.

On autopilot more than anything else, Bucky grabbed his phone and brought up his favourite Chinese restaurant, ordering what he usually got, plus some General goddamn Tso, and sat back to wait. Maybe the delicious smells of the upcoming food would spur his appetite, but probably not. After a beat, he stood to grab a beer from the fridge and fell back onto the couch, letting blessed white noise from the movie flood his head, drowning out all the agonies from the last two weeks.

When the knock came at the door, he wondered briefly who’d let the delivery guy in downstairs without him buzzing in, but his appetite had appeared, tentative and cautious and he didn’t want to scare it away. Grabbing his card, he shuffled to the door and threw it open, wishing instantly that he’d just paid some goddamn attention in the last few minutes, rather than just mindlessly answering the knock.

It was not his delivery and he felt instantly like he’d been kicked in the guts.

“Lev?”

She stood there, seeming almost nervous, as if she expected Bucky to either start screaming at her or just slam the door in her face. Biting her lip in a way that would have stoked the fire in Bucky’s veins if he weren’t so utterly gobsmacked by her appearance, she finally asked, her voice quiet. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Part of Bucky wanted to shut the door in her face, maybe visit back some of the pain she’d given him, but that was ridiculous, he’d been dying for a chance to even see her for days now and, even if her next words crushed the remains of his soul, he wanted them, because they were at least something.

“I-” He couldn’t find the words to continue and simply stepped back, opening the door wider in wordless invitation.

“Thank you,” she whispered, stepping by and into the apartment, turning to face him. She was wearing an old hoodie, worn and faded and Bucky gritted his teeth when he caught a trace of Sam’s cologne.

Bucky shut the door, struggling to find something to say but then the buzzer sounded, reminding him of the upcoming delivery. That was something he could focus on, if even for a moment. “Sorry, just a minute.” He hit the button, letting the delivery guy in. “I was just going to eat. Chinese, did you want some?”

Lev shook her head slightly and Bucky felt a wave of disappointment, whatever she was here to say, she didn’t expect to stay, or to leave a good taste in Bucky’s mouth when she left. She remained silent as Bucky answered the door a second time, accepted the fragrant bag and paid, shutting it again behind him. He hesitated, debating whether to lock the door as was his habit, but didn’t, deciding not to give Lev the impression that he was trapping her with him. Striding past he entered the kitchen, his nerves on fire.

Part of him wanted Lev to just spit out whatever she’d come up here to say, just rip off the bandage so he could get busy trying to heal the wound it exposed; while another part of him cried for ignorance, just a few more minutes of possibility, to keep his fervent dream from dying.

But even with the delicious smells wafting from the bag, Bucky’s appetite had disappeared again and he turned away from the counter, leaning back against it in a show of nonchalance that was really to keep him from collapsing and crossed his arms, a barrier. “What did you want to say?”

Lev swallowed, eyes scanning the room briefly before flicking back up to his. “Can we sit down?”

He couldn’t move without giving away the fact that he was trembling, so he shook his head, making her swallow again.

“Bucky…” again she hesitated, looking up at him with eyes that said a million things he was too scared to read.

He needed to cut this off, it hurt way too bad, his heart flayed open and exposed to the harsh air; his knees started to shake and if he didn’t sit he’d probably just collapse to the floor. “Sam’s probably waiting for you. You should go, you made it clear how you felt the first time.” Striding past her he marched into the living room, sitting heavily on the couch and holding up his hands, palm up as if to say, ‘I’m busy, what do you want?’ She followed at a distance, stopping a half dozen feet away, standing uncertainly before shoving her hands into her hoody pocket.

Her shuddered exhale was unexpected but not nearly as much as her words. “That’s just it…. I lied about that.”

His heart jolted, adrenaline rushing painfully through his veins, there was no way he’d heard her right, the universe didn’t work that way. “What?” His fingers clawed into the cushion, the fabric protesting.

“I lied.” She whispered, shoulders slumping. “When I said there was nothing between us, I lied. I felt it too.”

He needed a paper bag; he was going to hyperventilate. “What?” His vocabulary had lurched to a halt along with his brain, had he just heard her right? The next words burned like acid, but they needed to be said. “What about Sam?”

Lev’s shoulders slumped further, and she blinked rapidly, looking away. “We’re not together anymore.”

Bucky looked without seeing around the room then stabbed his hands through his hair. There was no way this wasn’t some desperate hallucination; he couldn’t be hearing her right. “W-what?”

A faint, sardonic smile. “Can I sit down?”

Without answering Bucky gestured to the couch, without breathing he waited for her to continue. Lev sat lightly, as if preparing for the need to leap to her feet again for a quick escape. Her black capri leggings were fitted and if Bucky hadn’t been so dumbfounded by this turn of events, he would have appreciated how they fit her curves.

Picking at her cuticles for a beat, Lev took a deep breath and fisted her hands, staring down at them as she spoke. “I can’t stop thinking about you…. Even though I said I felt nothing at the bar, it wasn’t true. I’ve been thinking about you ever since that night.”

“But… Sam.”

Lev nodded, sniffling once. “We’ve been friends forever; we never should have become a couple. We were always better as friends.” She trailed a fingertip idly along her knee. “I hope we can be again.”

Bucky waited silently, but he was sure she could hear his heart hammering in his chest. Lev glanced up at him for second before dropping her gaze back to her lap.

“It’s just… I’m still not entirely sure… I’ve been feeling like something was off for a couple months now, and on the plane here I finally put my finger on it… I love Sam, I really do but… I’m not in love with him. And I couldn’t just sit there thinking about that and waiting for him that night, so I went for a walk and chose a random bar and saw you.” She looked back up, tears darkening her eyes. “And I felt it too, god, did I, but I couldn’t… I was scared of… how strongly l was drawn to you… I tried to tell myself I was crazy, that it was just nerves and changing jobs and the move…. But, Jesus, Bucky… when you looked me in the eye and said that? That there was something between us and you couldn’t just let it go? I… I shattered. I lied to your face and ran… and I’ve tried but I can’t get you out of my head.”

Bucky struggled to speak, to make some sort of sound but he was gutted, absolutely stunned silent. Only in his most fevered dreams had he allowed himself to imagine this, hearing these words right from Lev herself, how she’d been just as taken as him, how she’d fought the pull and lost, just like him.

Lev continued, her voice gaining strength. “I’m leaving now, I’m moving out. Sam and I talked and we’re going to take break from communicating for a while to sort our feelings out, but I’m done. I want him as a friend, but only that. I just,” she stood, swaying slightly before gaining her balance. “I just wanted to tell you that, it wasn’t one-sided, you weren’t the only one who felt something. I’m sorry I lied to you.” She wiped at the moisture on her cheeks. “I’m going to stay with an old classmate until I can find a place to rent. I hope we can…. talk and… but I understand if… Sam and your friendship with him comes first.”

Jesus Fucking Christ. He was a selfish man, he wanted both. But Lev was wrong, if it came down to a choice, it was her, every time.

She turned to leave, was almost to the door before the spell broke. “Lev, wait-”

Cracking his knee against the coffee table and not even feeling it, he rushed to her, crowding her against the front door when she stepped back from his advance.

His chest heaving, breathing far more heavily than the exertion of crossing the room merited, Bucky fought for something to say.

Stay.

Don’t go, don’t leave like this.

I don’t care about all the rest of that shit; I just want you.

“Bucky, I should go.” She whispered; eyes locked on his chest; he seemed to have grown a few inches in height in these last contentious minutes.

“Lev, I…” he swallowed painfully. “Don’t… leave me.” His hands reached up, unbidden, stroking into her hair, needing to feel even just the smallest amount when he was fighting so goddamn hard with himself to not just crush her into his arms.

The faintest of smiles, an acknowledgment of shared pain. “I have to, we can’t do this… at least not right now.” She finally looked up into his eyes, tears trekking down her cheeks again. “I just needed you to know the truth.”

In a way, hearing that there had been nothing between them, that Lev had no feelings whatsoever for him would have been easier and Bucky was horrified to feel tears forming in his own eyes. “No.”

Lev exhaled raggedly. “I can’t get between you and your friends. How would it look if I broke up with Sam and started seeing you right away? I don’t want to be the wedge between you.”

You already are. The moment I saw you, things changed. If Sam can’t accept that fact, then I don’t need him in my life.

“James,” she whispered, voice breaking as she saw this clearly in his eyes.

He reached up, cradled her jaw. If he couldn’t have all of her now, he at least needed this. Tipping her head up, he pressed his lips to hers, face contorting with the pain of holding himself back. Lev sighed against his mouth, relaxing, her fingers curling into his shirtfront. His heart roared in his chest when she whimpered, kissing him back with just a hint of the passion he felt beneath the surface.

She was fighting to control herself just as hard as he was and, when his tongue slicked against hers, pushing into her mouth, her moan was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

Pressing her against the door he leaned into her, let her feel just how fiercely his body responded to her. Images of her beneath him, spread for him, sheathed around him and coming so sweetly for him made him groan in her mouth, their tears salting the sweetness.

Then, Lev tensed, her fingers no longer curling into his chest, but pushing him away. Fighting himself, he let her separate them, but only a hairsbreadth, leaning his forehead against hers as they breathed heavily.

Lev pushed him away once more and he straightened miserably, his body throbbing with want and need. He needed Lev like he needed oxygen and the agony on her face said she felt the same. Her hand fumbled for the doorknob then she was stepping to the side to pull it open.

Eyes like trapped galaxies met his one last time, then she was gone.

****************************************************************************

Fallon was just winding down when Steve returned, shutting the door quietly behind him. From the couch Bucky heard him walk into the kitchen, sort through the food cartons Bucky hadn’t bothered to unpack, mumbling in surprise and concern.

After a beat he reappeared in Bucky’s line of sight, holding up a container. “What’s going on, Buck?” Eyes glued to him, Steve moved slowly into the room, sitting himself carefully on the chair opposite, setting the container on the coffee table and sighing. “Lev came by, didn’t she?”

Bucky turned his gaze to Steve, but there was no need to speak to answer his question.

Steve nodded in understanding, brushing a hand through his hair. “Yeah, Sam came out with us after all, it ended up just me and him talking. You already know I take it, they’re breaking up?”

Bucky nodded once, slowly.

Steve exhaled hard. “It’s hard, man. I mean… there’s you on one end and Sam on the other…. I don’t know whether I want to strangle her for hurting you both or thank her for not leading anyone on.”

“It’s not her fault.” Bucky’s voice was blunt.

“Isn’t it?” Steve shot back, but it was hollow, the anger not really there. After a beat he sighed, scrubbed at his face. “I’m beat man, I’m going to bed.” He eyed Bucky; forehead furrowed. “You’re kind of scaring me, man. Just sitting here like this.”

Bucky smirked wryly. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t help it, you’re like a brother to me.”

Although he was definitely the more touchy-feely of the two of them, emotional displays like this were still somewhat rare and Bucky felt a pang at causing his oldest friend worry. Turning his gaze to Steve’s he continued. “Lev told me about her and Sam, said that…. the feelings I had for her were mutual-”

At this, Steve’s face went pale, concern warring with relief.

“But that everyone needs to step back. She refuses to be a wedge between us all and wants to stay friends with Sam, so right now...” he shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Steve nodded, a little warily. “Give it time?”

Bucky exhaled, nodding. “Yeah, let everything settle down, I guess.”

“And you’re okay with this?” There was caution in Steve’s voice, like he expected Bucky to tear off his clothes and go racing around down in the street like a maniac.

Lips quirking into a grin, Bucky knew exactly where Steve’s head had just gone, you couldn’t be friends with someone for most of your lives without developing at least a little bit of mind-reading abilities, he nodded. “I’m not planning on losing my mind.”

Steve snorted wryly. “You weren’t planning on falling in love with Sam’s girlfriend either.”

“Touché.”

“Seriously, James.” And the fact that he used Bucky’s given name showed the depth of his intent. “You need to talk, I’m right here, okay?”

His concern was touching and, for the umpteenth time that night Bucky felt tears forming but he managed a grin. “I don’t care if it makes me sound like a pussy, but she feels the same way, man. We have a chance, and I’ll wait forever for her.”

[teaspacebar]

guarded soul part i: chipped

summary: you didn’t think the man with the pretty brown eyes and white hair was anything more than a bodyguard the night you met him. he thought the same of you. you never expected to meet him again - with his clone squadron in tow. turns out your lives were more different than you thought. takes place in the ‘war of hearts’ universe.

pairing: salem (clone oc) x jinx (mercenary!reader)

warnings: smut (18+), salem and reader being sassy bitches

words: 2.3k+

beta: @ambereyesandwine​

taglist (open): @abovethyfold​ @obiorbenkenobi​ 

masterlist

a/n: a big thanks to @karasong​ for helping me figure out the logistics of this and for letting me fangirl about my own clone oc’s endlessly. and a big thanks to my beta - and love of my life - for letting me hover over her shoulder as she read the first smut i’ve written in a while.

***

Salem wouldn’t consider himself a hopeless romantic. He wouldn’t consider him a romantic at all. Salem didn’t have time for romance – he was too busy keeping his brothers from getting into bar fights. Although, let’s be honest, if his boys got into a fight, he’d probably jump right in.

But right now, his mind was occupied with a multitude of thoughts surrounding an individual.

“Salem, we’re leaving before Flare starts to believe that he can drink Fives under the table!” Ziggy had an arm around the red-headed clone, who was barely keeping himself on his feet.

“Alright, gimme a minute.” Salem ran a hand through his hair, internally reminding himself that he needed to get some more bleach – his roots had started to show more than he liked. The sniper used his eagle-eyes to spot Maverick heading in his direction.

“Leaving?” Salem gave a single nod in response.

“You stayin’?” Another nod. Maverick and Salem were excellent at communicating with little to no words. It made it easier for them in the battlefield. And in bars that were filled with a bunch of rowdy clones.

Salem made his way out of 79’s, Phys joining his side. Outside, Salem quickly spotted his brothers talking to a few women off to the side.

“Salem! I was just talking about you to these wonderful ladies here!” Yep. Flare was definitely drunk. “This guy can take down anything with his sniper – he modded it himself!”

Salem held back a groan as the medic chuckled next to him, “He’s trying to get you laid.”

“Not interested,” Salem muttered.

“Salem! Come ‘ere!” Flare was waving the sniper over as Ziggy apologized profusely to the women – who were in various states of amusement. Salem relented, walking behind Phys who had already started in that direction. As he joined the group, one of the women squinted her eyes at him.

“Wait a second – I know you.”

A look of recognition crossed Salem’s face – it was you.

-

“Don’t like stuck up politicians either, huh?”

Salem glanced in your direction as you came up beside him. You were just a bit too close for comfort, and it put him on edge. You weren’t in a fancy dress which meant you weren’t one of the ‘stuck up politicians’ you had mentioned.

“You’re a bodyguard?”

Silence.

“So, you’re the quiet, grumpy type, I get it.” That finally garnered a glare from the clone. You grinned in response, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Gotcha.” Salem rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to the middle of the ballroom. “You look familiar, have we met?”

Salem tensed. You couldn’t have recognized him; his face was covered - from the nose down - with his mask. His hair was bordering the lines of breaking regulation, and he had enough body mods to differentiate him from his brothers. “Not my usual hunting ground,” he responded casually, keeping his voice low.

You hummed a response, “A shame, with pretty eyes like that.”

-

“I knew you looked familiar!” Salem would have thought you were proud of yourself if you didn’t look so…angry. “Of course, a pretty boy like you would be with the Republic.”

“Always are, Jinx.” A smaller girl from the group chimed in, her green hair reflecting the light.

“That’s your name?” Salem quirked a brow.

You crossed your arms, “Better than Salem.”

The green-haired girl spoke up again, “She’s the boss. Her real name isn’t Jinx.”

“Thank you, Vega,” you shot a look at the girl, before turning back to the boys.

“You know each other already?” Phys spoke up from beside him.

You smirked, “We met at one of those fancy events where the food portions are tiny. Looked into his eyes and I just knew he was the one for me.” Ziggy snorted, using the hand that wasn’t holding Flare up to cover his mouth. Salem bristled, and he could tell you were enjoying it. Two taxis pulled up to the side of the street at the same time.

“Ride’s here!” The group of women that were with you piled into one, the girl you had called Vega poking her head out, “You coming, boss?”

Your eyes never left Salem’s, “I have some business to take care of, I’ll catch a ride later.” The other girls seemed to take the hint, pulling Vega into the taxi before it flew off. Salem was ready to make his escape. His walls came up around him, attempting to find safety in the isolation. He darted toward the other taxi, only for you to call out to him. “In case you weren’t aware, you’re the business I was talking about.”

Cue snorts from all three of the boys this time.

Realizing that the only way out of this was to either embarrass himself by jumping into the taxi or to go along with what you said, he grumbled, “Fine.”

-

You were annoying.

And you hadn’t left his side all night.

“So, who’s side are you here for? Separatist? Republic?”

“Does it matter?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Most people say it does.”

Touché. He had his own opinion on the matter, but it would give him away too easily. And if anyone found out that there was a clone undercover in the middle of a politically neutral event it would cause too many problems. The idea of being anything else but a soldier – or the idea of a world without the war – was something that Salem buried down to eventually deal with at a later date.

“…what about you?”

“Oh, I’m not on either side, I’m just a hired bodyguard for the evening.” Salem pushed away his curiosity. It made sense. You didn’t seem to care what people thought of you, and you seemed indifferent to what was going on around you.

-

“Are ya’ going to talk or are we just gonna stand here?”

He had followed you to another bar – it was quieter, less crowded. He got a few looks from the patrons, but they left him alone.

“You don’t look like your average clone.”

“You don’t look like a bounty hunter.”

You scoffed, “I’m not a bounty hunter. I’m a mercenary – there’s a difference.”

“Right.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, chin in your hand, “I don’t kill people for credits, Salem. Me and my girls, we help the ‘little people’. The people that the Republic and Separatists ignore.” Salem frowned at your explanation. The urge to defend himself rose, his walls shaking in irritation. “I know that helping people is your goal, but I don’t think that the Republic has done anything more than balance the scales. It’s nothing against you and the rest of the boys in the GAR, I just can’t believe in a party that thinks the war is the only solution.” Your voice had softened, and Salem could feel the passion in your tone.

“You were a bodyguard for a politician,” he pointed out. He wasn’t looking to argue with you; he just wanted to understand your reasoning of your work.

He didn’t know why he wanted to understand, but he did.

Your laugh was genuine, “I still have to make money somehow, pretty boy. Good deeds don’t pay, unfortunately.”

-

“Shit, shit, SHIT!” You continued to curse as you pulled two blasters from holsters on either side of your thighs. “Pretty boy!” You tossed a blaster in his direction, Salem catching it with ease. He had his own blaster strapped to his hip, hidden underneath his jacket. You had been faster, quick to take cover behind a table you had tipped onto its side.

The first shot had rung out just a couple minutes earlier, a Separatist senator dead on the ground. It seemed like other people had the same idea, weapons being pulled by most of those attending. Salem scoured the room in search for Pip. He had no luck, but instead saw Senator Amidala behind a pillar. He spared another look at you.

“If you have somewhere to be, then go!” You seemed able enough to take care of yourself, and so he ran off in the direction of the Senator.

-

Salem hated to admit it, but you were growing on him.

Maybe it was the ease in which you said what was on your mind. Or the mischief that was always ever present in your eyes.

Or maybe it was the way you kissed him like he was the best drink you’ve had in your life.

Your laugh separated your lips from his, “Am I not keeping your attention, pretty boy?”

“Distractin’ me is more like it.”

You grinned, pushing him onto his back, “I can stop, if you’d like.”

Salem groaned when you straddled him, “Not a chance.” You kissed up his chest, paying attention to the scars littered across his body. When you reached his lips, you hovered above them, smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. “Tease.”

“Name’s Jinx…but thank you.” You pressed a bruising kiss to his lips, heat bubbling up between you. You rocked your hips, brushing up against the hardness that was beneath his pants. A soft moan escaped your lips as you attempted to create more friction.

You were gorgeous above him.

Salem had his experiences with women – and a few men – but none were like this.

You pulled away to tug at the waistband of his pants, “These need to go.” Salem moved with an urgency that sent you into laughter again, but you were soon distracted by the hard length that presented itself to you. You hummed in appreciation, fingers running across his length.

Salem gasped, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as your touches turned into you pumping his cock. Your pupils were blown wide, lips parted as you stared down at him. “Kriff,” he slipped his hands beneath your shirt, pulling at your waist as he tried to keep himself from bucking his hips.

You pulled your hand away from him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before leaving the bed so you could shed the clothes you were wearing. You sent him a wink as he gazed at you. You bounded back over to him, letting him pull you back on top of him. “Fancy seeing you here.” He could tell that you were about the chuckle at your own words, so he grabbed your hips and bucked his own against yours.

You glared at him playfully, but continued to grind your core against him, “Rude.”

“Definitely,” he breathed.

You nipped at his neck, arousal building as his cock brushed against your soaked core. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he slid into you. Salem let out a groan, rutting his hips up into yours as you rode him. He felt his orgasm creep up on him faster than he expected. He cursed out loud, rolling over so you were the one on your back. The new angle had you keening, hands reaching up to tug on his hair. The slight pulse of pain only spurred him on, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Salem, fuck–” He ran a hand down your side, brushing it across your stomach and down to your core, caressing that little bundle of nerves. You tightened around him, nails digging into his shoulders as you arched your back. You lifted your head up slightly, and Salem obeyed your silent plea, kissing you harshly. He bit your lip, tugging on it before diving back in for more.

There was nothing soft about it, but it wouldn’t have made sense if it were.

You coming undone beneath him sent Salem soaring seconds after you. His face was buried in your neck, arms at an angle as he tried not to place all his weight on top of you. A couple of minutes passed before he made to move, pulling out of you slowly and rolling over so he was on the left side of your bed.

Salem was debating whether he should leave when you got up from the bed. You lowered the lights and entered the refresher. He heard water running for a moment, then the pad of your feet heading in his direction. Salem squinted, barely able to make out your form in the dimly lit room. You sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a cup to him, “Water?”

He stared at the cup like you had grown an extra limb, “What?”

“It’s good to hydrate, pretty boy, drink up.” He took the cup from you and sat up a little in the bed. You were staring at him with an amused expression.

“What?”

You hummed, “Oh, nothing, just admiring the view.” You took the empty cup from him when he was done drinking, “Feel free to wash up and sleep, I have some work to do. It’s probably one of the only times you’ll sleep in a bed as soft as this one.” Your words weren’t directed at him, if anything, they were the gentlest words you had spoken to him since he had met you. You reached over to ruffle his hair before leaving him alone in the bedroom.

-

Salem entering the barracks before breakfast that next morning was the highlight of the Juno Squadron’s week.

“You got laid,” Phys commented, looking up at him from the book he was reading. It was an old one, not even on a Datapad.

A crow of cheers came from Bailey, Flare, and Ziggy.

“About time somebody pulled that stick outta’ your ass,” Flare grinned wolfishly.

Salem rolled his eyes, “Can we not talk about this?”

“Oh no,” Volts replied, “we’re talking about it.”

“Leave him alone, boys,” Maverick said as he walked in. “Or else the stick might crawl back in.”

There was a ‘ping’ on his Datapad, but the guffaws from the rest of the team was enough cover for him to check it without being pestered.

Hope you slept well. See you next time, pretty boy.

And a crack in the wall was formed.

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.7]

Chapter:  Per Aspera ad Astra ‘Through hardships to the stars’

Summary:  Bucky is not handling Y/n’s date with Tony very well at all. 

Warnings:  Fluffy fluff. Some upset Bucky but no angst. 

A/N: Thanks to a certain Anon for the chapter title. Don’t get all cranky with me after this chapter. There’s some soft Bucky in this and it’s all moving in the right direction. It’s a good thing if you look at certain moments. Trust babies. Trust. Send me love because i”m needy, okay?!  Plus all your comments make my day. Beta’d by the beautiful and talented @lokissoul I love you 3000.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

They have never seen Bucky this upset. Sure, they have seen him angry, pissed even, but this? No, they haven’t seen this. He’s spent their entire shift sulking, pouting like an eight-year-old and now? He’s throwing cereal boxes, towels, and wooden spoons all over the counter with a scowl on his face that could easily stop someone’s heart. The more those little black hands on the clock ticked closer to seven the worse he got. Clint looks over at Sam and grins as Bucky kicks his chair out from the table and slumps down. Bucky is throwing a full-blown fit, and they have to admit it’s pretty funny.

“What’s up your ass?” Sam finally asks after thirty minutes of nothing but slamming cabinets and aggressively loud sighing.  

“Nothing,” Bucky grunts.

“So you always throw shit around the kitchen? You know this is a shared space right?”

“He’s mad because his girl has a date with someone else,” Clint adds with a toothy grin.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Sam rolls his eyes as Bucky continues, “I just can’t believe she’s going on a date with him. You all know what Stark is like. For God sake, he’s taking her Masa. Does she seem like the type of girl that would like that? The last time we went to dinner, she picked the place. We ate at a food truck. A. Food. Truck. She ordered four tacos and then made me buy her and Ori churros and ice cream.”

Sam exchanges a look with Clint and peeks back at Steve behind him who throws his hand up, he wasn’t getting involved in this one. The triad stays quiet letting Bucky’s rage-filled rambles resume, “And yeah, okay. He’s in publishing, and she has her book store, but do you know she doesn’t even like writing? We talked about it. She doesn’t want to get published, and he’s all Manhattan and she’s… Brooklyn. She wears overalls and those little white tennis shoe things! Do they seem like a good fit to you?”

Clint shrugs as he leans back in his chair setting his feet on the table and stretching out. “I mean, yeah. She’s the sweet to his smart ass. She’s the soft and kind to his… dick?” Clint jerks his feet off the time just in time to dodge the spoon that flew by his head.

“I didn’t mean his actual dick. Jesus Buck.”

Bucky turns his hard glare onto Clint and crosses his arms over his chest. “When Y/n gets hurt your wife is the one that’s gonna feel bad.”

“Who says she’s going to get hurt?” Sam asks, humor filling his voice, doing anything he can to push Bucky’s buttons. “This could be it. They could get married. Have kids. The whole nine. We could have little Starks running around in a few years.”

Bucky chews his bottom lip as he lets Sam’s words swim around in his head. He hates it. He hates more than he’s ever hated anything. He truly loathes the idea of Y/n marrying Tony. And the thought of them having kids together? No, just no.  Where does that leave Ori… and him? He knows how selfish that sounds and as much as he wants to be happy for her, he can’t.

“I’ll take it by the queasy look on your face you’re ready to admit you’ve got a crush on the girl?” Sam punches Clint in the shoulder and holds his hand out in front of his face. “Pay up! I told you he was crushin’ on her. Trying to tell me I don’t know my boy.”

Clint shoves his hand away but digs a twenty out of pocket and tosses in Sam’s direction.

“They just met!” He grumbles. “He’s always going on and on about finding the right woman. I didn’t think it would happen that fast.”

These two, Bucky considers them his best friends, his brothers. They watch his back in the midst of the worst and look at them now. Betting on whether he has a crush? Bucky is simply worried about a friend, and they have to try to turn it into some big deal? It doesn’t mean anything. There’s nothing between him and Y/n. Clearly, since she’s on a date with another man.

Further proof he’s right, and they are all idiots.

“I don’t have a crush on her.” Bucky clarifies, and Clint snatches the twenty out of Sam’s hand, grinning victoriously.  

“Oh, okay. So we are pretending you’re not in love with her,” Sam’s voice is dripping in sarcasm, and Bucky is so close to kicking the legs of his chair out from under him. “Just so I know how to act. She in on it? Because I have to say she seems pretty smitten on you for some reason I can’t figure out.”

“That’s Ori man.” Clint pipes up. “She loves peanut because my niece is the cutest.”

“First off, I know how cute my niece is. No one is denying my niece’s top tier cuteness. I’m sayin’ there is somethin’ else there. He’s been brooding around the station all day because she has a date.”

“I’m not in love with her,” Bucky says through gritted teeth. It’s annoying he has to have this conversation again. For the second time this week. “I barely know her, Sam. We’ve only known each other a month or so.”

“You talk every day. You’re always grinning all stupid at your phone when she texts you.”

“I’m not in love with her!” Bucky shouts, startling everyone sitting around the table but Sam and Steve.

“We. Are. Just friends.”

Sam drops his spoon back into his bowl of milk and raises a brow at Bucky looking thoroughly unimpressed, “Are you being this stupid on purpose? If not, this is a real issue, and I don’t know if you should be protecting our city.”

“Steve,” Bucky says, looking over Sam’s shoulder at the blond standing behind Sam, brows furrowed in annoyance after listening to all the bickering. “So help me if you don’t get your husband away from me, I’m gonna bury him behind my house.”

Steve takes a deep breath and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Alright. Enough. You all have jobs to do. Just because we don’t have an active call right now doesn’t mean there aren’t things to do. Finish up and move your asses.” Bucky relaxes a smidge and stands up from the table. “And stop teasing Buck about Y/n. He’s not ready to admit his feelings.”

The entire table, excluding Steve, immediately breaks down into a fit of laughter.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky grumbles. “I’m done with every one of you.”

The guys, mostly Sam and Clint, are shouting for him to come back but he ignores them and heads straight for his locker. He needs to take a break from all this crush talk, or he is going to string them up to the back of the truck and leave them there till morning. The last thing he wants to think about is Y/n on her date with Tony, and he definitely doesn’t want to talk about it. His phone vibrates against the harsh metal of his locker and despite everything he can’t help but smile when he sees who’s texting him.

[Beck]: How do I look? Good enough to date a billionaire?

The picture takes a second to load, but when it does, it’s as if all the air has been punched out of his lungs. Y/n’s wearing a black tulle knee-length dress that is covered in little gold stars. Spaghetti straps rest of her shoulders showing off the shooting star necklace she’s wearing and the neckline, well it dips a bit too low for her to be wearing that and going out with Stark. God, those black heels? Shit, they made her legs look incredible. She looks stunning, but the only thing he’s looking at is the tiny pink and teal bracelet on her wrist, made of glittering plastic stars.

The bracelet she made with Ori.

[December]: Billionaire or not you’re way out of his league.

-------

This is not the kind of date Y/n was used to. Her idea of a good date? Tacos from that food truck by Bucky’s house. Then maybe ice cream after. That’s her idea of the perfect date. This, though? This is weird food she doesn’t recognize and a fancy atmosphere that makes her feel out of place and… inadequate.  Y/n wrinkles her nose as a plate of some kind of raw fish is placed in front of her, there is literally nothing on that plate that looks remotely like something she would pick out for herself. This is not something she ever wants to eat.

Tony looks up over the bottle of wine that had been placed between them before they had arrived and laughs the instant he sees the expression on her face. He knew Nat was off when she told him to take Y/n someplace elaborate and expensive.  He sensed it the moment he laid eyes on her. Tony tosses his napkin down on the table and rises from his chair.

“I don’t know about you, but I could go for a greasy ass cheeseburger,” he says, grinning, hand held out for hers. Y/n looks up to meet his soft brown gaze and slips her hand into his. He looks down at her plastic bracelet, and his grin widens as he tugs her up out of her chair.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand gorgeous.”

Twenty minutes and limo ride later, Y/n and Tony are laying on the hood of the limo with cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate milkshakes. This is infinitely better than whatever the hell was put in front of her at that weird stuffy restaurant. Although a view of the stars would make it perfect. She purses her lips as she tries to spot their twinkle through the haze of the city lights, but no luck.

“So,” Tony says through a mouthful of cheeseburger. “I know I don’t have the best reputation. I’m sure Nat told you. Or you saw the tabloids. They do love a good Stark scandal.”

“I try not to pay attention to gossip.” She reaches over and wipes ketchup out of his goatee with her thumb, grinning at the faint blush that pinks his cheeks, “But, I may have heard a thing or two. Did you really date three women at once? That seems messy and exhausting.”

“It was both of those things in more ways than one.” Y/n sticks her tongue out like she’s gagging and Tony chuckles setting his fries back down in the inch or so between them.

“At least I know it was money well spent.” He grins as her face twists from utterly grossed out to confusion. “Some of it’s true but most of the more scandalous things… I paid a lot of money to get that reputation. I didn’t want anyone thinking they could tie me down for my money or my fame. If someone was going to get close to me, I wanted it to be because they wanted to spend time with me regardless of what the papers said. Not land a billionaire.”

“That must be lonely.” Y/n whispers, soft, as if it was a secret he didn’t know. It’s a secret she knows more about than she wants to admit. “Keeping everyone at arm’s length so you don’t get hurt?”

“Nah. I’ve got Rhodes and then there is Pep! She’s the light of my world. If it weren’t for her, my company would fall apart, and I probably would have worked right through our date.” Y/n lifts her brow grinning at him, and he smirks rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Probably shouldn’t have said that huh?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No. Probably not.”

-------

“I didn’t know you lived above your shop.” Tony nods towards behind them gesturing at the steps they had just climbed up, the ones that led back down to her shop. “That Aquila painted on the front?”

Her hands freeze as she pulls her keys from her purse, her mouth falls open in shock, and he just grins back at her.

“No one ever spots that!” She mumbles completely and thoroughly blown away. Tony is just full of surprises. She leans back against the front door to her tiny two-bedroom and sighs, “Thank you for tonight. I had a really great time. It was nice to laugh for a bit.”

Tony moves in closer, resting his right hand against the wall by her head, and the other finds its way to her hip squeezing against the soft material.

“You don’t laugh very much?” Tony asks softly, his eyes watching her lips like they have been all night.

Y/n shrugs holding her breath as he inches closer and closer to her, their noses bump softly making her smile, “Not– I don’t –Just with Ori and Bucky.”

He halts short of finding out just how soft her lips are and tilts his head to the side “Barnes, huh?”

She laughs and draws her bottom lip between her lips teeth in embarrassment before releasing it to give him an apologetic albeit cheek grin.

“Probably shouldn’t have brought up another man on our date, huh?”

“No. Probably not.” He mirrors her words from earlier with a grin.

Tony takes his chance and leans forward placing a soft kiss to her cheek. A pang of disappointment hits her as he pulls away and let’s go of her hip. No kiss then. “I should let you get some sleep, and I’m sure I have a million emails to answer. Dinner again this week? I promise you can pick the next place. Scouts honor.”

“It’s a date.”

--------

Y/n slips her old NASA hoodie on as her phone pings from her vanity. She half expects it to be Tony sending her another goofy video, but to her surprise and delight, it’s Bucky. She smiles and sits down as she opens it.

[December]: How long does it take someone to piss their pants after you put their hand in warm water? Asking for a friend.

A second later a picture comes through half of Bucky’s face, a huge smirk and in the distance behind him, Sam is asleep on what looks like the most uncomfortable bed in the world and his hand in a bowl of what she assumes in a bowl of warm water. She snorts and shakes her head. These are the men protecting her city from disasters? She’s feeling really safe right now.

[Beck]: What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be putting out fires?

[December]: No fires. You’re safe. I made sure.

[Beck]: I have no doubts I am safe with you.

Bucky held his breath and another message quickly followed.

[Beck]: Princess Orion is looking out for me after all.

Bucky chuckles lowly eyeing his idiot friends before responding, they are all busy or asleep thankfully. He wants to ask about the date. He wants to know if it went good – No. Actually, he doesn’t want to know. Or, does he? If it went well she might be canceling movie night, but she wouldn’t do that, would she? Ori would be crushed, and he’s already picked up The Martian for after bedtime.

[December]: Still on for movie night this week?

[Beck]: Of course. The two of you are the best part of my week.

Y/n hearts flips when her phone vibrates in her hand with ‘December’ lighting up her screen. She swipes up and grins when Bucky’s face appears before her eyes.

“What are you doing?” She whispers softly. “Don’t you have things to do?”

“Nah,” Bucky murmurs in a hushed tone as he gets comfortable on an ugly brown and orange sofa and slips his arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow. “Why are you whispering? I have headphones in.”

“I don’t know,” she whines playfully. “I felt weird talking loud. It looks like everyone is asleep and you’re whispering!”

“You’re pretty damn cute you know that?” He says adoringly, chuckling under his breath. “Tell me about your day?”

“Okay, but you have to watch me take my makeup off while I talk. I was getting ready for bed.”

“I don’t mind, Y/n.”

Y/n beams in response and props the phone up where they can see each other, but she has use of both hands. She starts to wipe her makeup but keeps her eyes on Bucky, for the most part. “Um, what was my day like… Well, the shop was busy, and I found this thing I want to do in the bathroom. I want to paint dark blue above the tile and then do gold–”

“–Stars on the ceiling?”

“How did you know!?” She asks, ear-piercingly loud, an excited grin on her face. Guess she’s no longer worried about being quiet.

“Just a wild guess, doll.”

He watches her remove the dark shadow on her eyes and then move onto her pink lipstick. It was strange seeing her like that. Not that she doesn’t look beautiful every time he sees her because she does, but this is different. “I liked the lipstick you wore tonight. It worked good with your skin tone and made your smile brighter. If that’s possible.”

“I only wear it on special occasions…” Y/n stops wiping the blush from her cheeks and looks at the camera with her head tilted in question. “Where the heck did you learn about skin tone and all that?”

“Nat and Ori,” Bucky replies quickly.

She giggles and shakes her head, “Okay, enough about my lips. Tell me about your day. What happened? Save any kitties from trees? Did you work on your abs for the next calendar? Better keep them firm, so you don’t disappoint the ‘charity’ that likes sexy men posing shirtless.”

“Oh, you’re in for it the next time I see you darlin’.” Bucky pauses and slowly sits up. “Wait. You think I’m sexy?”

Y/n breaks down into a fit of giggles and hides her face behind her hands mumbling, “I do have eyes.”

“So that’s why you liked the calendar so much. You think I’m sexy. This changes everythin’ doll.”

“Buck!”

Just like that, the date is forgotten.

------

“Aunt Nattie?”

“Yeah?” Nat asks eyes on what she was doing, tucking her blankets around her legs and putting all twelve of her stuffies around her in their proper places around Ori. For her protection of course and her unicorn gets tucked in next to her where Ori can snuggle to her heart’s content.

“Did daddy tell you we saw Y/n?” Ori asks, voice tight, unsure of how to bring up what she really wants to ask.

“He did. He said he fixed Y/n’s door and that cracked front window. Dad also said you got dinner together.” She stares at her niece catching something off in her eyes, and the way she’s gripping sparkles has her worried. “Spill. What’s going on in that cute head of yours?”

“I think daddy likes Y/n…”

Nat smirks and peppers Ori’s forehead with kisses. “I think you’re right, peanut. Anyone ever tell you that you’re pretty smart for an almost five-year-old?”

“Yeah, Y/n tells me I’m smart.”

“Go to sleep.” Nat ruffles her curls and gives her one last kiss before switching off the light on her side table “We can scheme in the morning. Dad needs help planning your birthday, and I think Y/n might be perfect for the job. Good night my sweet.”

Before Nat can make it to the door, she can hear Ori shuffling around and when she turns around Ori is sitting up in bed clutching sparkles to her chest.

“Auntie Nattie?

“Yeah, baby?”

Ori’s arms tighten around her unicorn and she mumbles through the rainbow mane hiding her lips,“I just want daddy happy.”

Natasha smiles.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

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