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hepalien · 3 years

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Shrunkyclunks (Modern Bucky/Cap Steve) Fic Rec

Hate Sex & Hair Protocol by @maddiewritesstucky - Mature, 1.8k

SHIELD Agent Bucky, UST, Enemies to Lovers (in Steve’s head), Humor

They’re all full of shit, Steve decides.

His team don’t have a clue what they’re talking about, running their mouths about the way he and Bucky look at each other; the tension that seems to be at a constant near-snapping point between them.

'It’s called annoyance' Steve wants to yell in each of their faces, loud and one by one. It’s the pain of having to exist every day in close proximity with someone who drives you out of your fucking mind.

---

In which Steve discovers that ire and desire may just exist side by side in his brain.

Stop interrupting my grinding series by @rohkeutta - Teen, 2.5k

Nurse Bucky, Wrong Number, Fluff, Humor

“I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.”

“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”

“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.

Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by @galwednesday - Teen, 2.7k

War Vet Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff, Humor, Modern Howlies

Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. “Hello,” he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. “Wow. Good face.”

Two of the guy’s friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were.

“Hello,” he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. “I’m very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?”

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet by @musette22 - Teen, 3.8k

Chef Bucky, POV Outsider, Fluff, Humor

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

more under the cut

Cafe Au Écoute by @littlesystems - Teen, 3.8k

Coffee Shop AU

No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.

#TweetMeDaddy by StarSpangled - Teen, 4.1k

SHIELD Employee Bucky, Misunderstandings, Crack, Humor

Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”

“If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by @spacebuck - Explicit, 8.2k

YouTuber Bucky

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

Came with my cool (I dropped it) by @liionne - Teen, 9.2k

Yoga Instructor Bucky

"When you said I need to loosen up, I didn't think you meant literally."

"I meant it every way. Mentally, emotionally, and physically." Natasha says, and thrusts a yoga mat at him.

there once was a diamond by bloobeary - Teen, 11.3k

Fluff, Thanksgiving

"You," Becca seethes, and hits him with a wooden spoon. "Could have told me," Hits him again. "You were dating Captain America." Final hit, Bucky laughs. He supposes he deserves it, giving her no more information than the fact he was bringing his boyfriend to Thanksgiving dinner at her house and then showing up with Steve.

Salt by littleblackfox @thelittleblackfox - Mature, 12k

Bakery AU

The cinnamon roll is gone in four bites. Four indecent, jaw-unhinging bites, and Steve sucks the last traces of lemon and icing from his fingers with a low, throaty sound of satisfaction. He glances up at Bucky, who is leaning against the counter and watching him with avid fascination.

“Um…” Steve says around his index finger. There’s still a little icing on the bed of his fingernail, and he stops trying to work it off with his tongue.

“You know those movies where the girl eats an eclair or something, and it’s really, like, sexually charged?” Bucky asks.

Steve pulls his finger out of his mouth. He’s never seen that kind of movie, but the thought of Bucky eating an eclair is certainly… well, it lingers. “Uh?”

“Yeah, well that was the exact opposite.” Steve scowls, and Bucky cackles gleefully. “You are something else, Steve.”

Leg Day by Brokenpitchpipe - Explicit, 12.1k

Gym Thot Bucky

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Art Nouveau by voluptuous_panic - Explicit, 12.2k

Bartender Bucky, Tattooed & Pierced Bucky

Steve's on the worst date of his life. At least the bartender's cute.

much tattoo about nothing by @deisderium - Explicit, 14.5k

Tattoo Artist Bucky

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

No Wonder There's Panic in the Industry by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Not Rated (I’d say Mature?), 20.5k

Stark Industries Intern Bucky, Team fic, Humor

In which Bucky Barnes and his BFF, Clint Barton, are NYU interns for Stark Media Group competing to be Pepper's favorite.

Or alternatively, the time Bucky assisted the P.A. team on the Steve Rogers piece and ended up (adopted) with a contact list full of Avengers.

Life of the Party by @aggressivewhenstartled - Explicit, 21.6k

Superhero Impersonator Bucky, Mistaken Identity

“You know, kids,” Steve heard from the backyard, “one of the most common threats a superhero has to face is inside an active volcano! We’re going to have to work on your evasion skills, so for the next five minutes, the floor is lava!” This was met by a sudden spike in both volume and pitch from the small children as they scrambled onto every raised surface they could find and immediately launched themselves right back off.

“I’ve never seen actual lava in my entire life,” Steve said, vaguely offended.

“You got a superhero impersonator for The Falcon’s niece’s birthday party,” Sam said, incredulous. “The Falcon, who is an actual superhero.”

Trust Enough by @geneticallydead - Explicit, 23.3k

Misunderstandings

“Saturday. Yeah, that’s good,” Steve says, and actually scuffs his shoe at the ground. Like a ridiculous shy superhero damsel. “Say eight? I live-“

“Yeah, big building with the A on it,” Bucky says, and can’t help a big stupid grin. Steve stares at him, looking a little dazed, and after their whole conversation it’s only now that Bucky’s brain catches up and realises Steve finds him quite attractive. So. Win for Bucky.

“Let me get your number,” Steve says finally, after they’ve stared stupidly at each other for about three hours, taking out his phone.

So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself.

Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired.

Well fuck.

The Roommate by layersofart, Niitza - Teen, 28.6k

War Vet Bucky, Roommates AU, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Team fic

In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.

It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.

Brooklyn Baby by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Mature, 33.7k

Coffee Shop AU, Modern Howlies, Mistaken Identity, Team Fic

In which Bucky is just trying to live life and enjoy his unofficial official table at the obnoxiously hipster coffee shop but some guy named Steve stole his spot.

Or, the time that Bucky unintentionally befriended the Avengers and had no idea.

Never Talk to Strangers by mambo @whtaft - Teen, 40.4k

Grad Student Bucky, Slow Burn

Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero.

Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun by fallendarlings @pressrestartwrites - Explicit, 102.8k

Single Dad Bucky, Kid Fic, Slow Burn, Domestic, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Steve has Autism

Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).

Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.

Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.

And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.

More recs

#stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #shrunkyclunks #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #steve x bucky #my stucky recs #fic tag #mine #fic rec #mcu fic #tumblr ate this the first time [my longest sigh ever]#i read art nouveau for the first time last week and I've been thinking about it ever since

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byima · 3 years

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Six Weeks at the Blofis’s pt 1

We back baby, read here or on AO3

pt 1: the mortifying incident

"Cheers to making it through the week," Percy says, his second glass of minty cocktail raised in the air for a toast.

The waiter passes Annabeth her refill and she clinks her glass to his. "Cheers to that."

Both of them knock back their drinks, and maybe the liquor will wash away the worst of the past week.

Gods. Only seven days into their temporary stay at the Blofis townhouse and they're already supplementing with alcoholic beverages.

They hadn't planned on 'moving in with the parents,' but after wires got crossed with the people moving into their old place, and because of some unforeseen delays in the remodeling of their new place, they found themselves out of a home for six weeks and scrambling for somewhere to stay. That place ended up being the Blofis brownstone for a lot of really logical reasons.

Nonetheless, the week had been a miniseries in frustrations. Both of them now had longer commutes, Percy was working extra hours to offset additional costs of moving and wedding expenses (the wedding for which they still hadn't sent out thank you cards), Annabeth was on a deadline to turn in a final report for a state grant that would impact her compensation at the end of the fiscal year, and for some strange reason, U-hauls and storage units had been scarce throughout Brooklyn. Percy had spent the last 48 hours at the station, they had fought several times, and Annabeth had cried more than she would like to admit.

So on Friday night, they went on a date. Just the two of them. And they were going to relax, and they were going to enjoy themselves.

"I found a new bedmate in your absence." Their drinks are empty, plates cleared, and they've just been going back and forth for about an hour, tucked cozily in a corner booth at their favorite sushi spot. She's pressed to his right side and he's got his arm around her shoulders.

"Mmhmm," his left hand finds her leg through the slit of her long dress. It's a pale blue floral number, with capped sleeves and buttons all the way down the front. "Tell me about him. Should I be jealous?"

"Very." She bites her bottom lip when his warm palm settles on her thigh. Her mouth is painted a rich red color and he wants her lips on him. "She doesn't snore."

"Mhmm." He drags his nose along her hairline. "I knew one day you'd toss me over for a girl."

"She pokes me awake, occasionally. Not nearly as often as you do."

"Fair enough." His long fingers are trailing up her thigh, while his other hand, visible to any onlookers, casually toys with her long, loose curls. "What else do I do that your new bedfellow doesn't?"

She doesn't answer, but her red mouth parts and grey eyes lock with sea green when his seeking hand bypasses dinner appropriate territory.

She crosses her legs, effectively trapping his hand. He buries his smile in her hair.

"Come on," he mumbles into the curly, blonde mass. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Her right hand travels from his knee to his lap, and her parted lips stretched into a smile when he clears his throat.

"This is a losing battle, babe, you know that." She tilts her head until he lifts his face from her fragrant curls and their foreheads touch.

He does know that. But sparring with Annabeth is one of his favorite pastimes. And the alcohol in his system is only egging him on for this particular war, impending defeat notwithstanding.

She caresses with increased boldness and he blows out a breath. "Woah."

"I'm gonna call for the check," she whispers. "Sounds good?"

"Yup."

One handsy subway ride later, and they are back at the brownstone, so wrapped up in each other they barely remember to shut the door.

He starts pulling her up the upstairs to where the bedrooms are, but she stops him at the second step, stumbling under the burden of his heavier mass. Her handbag drops to the wooden stairs with a thump.

"We can't." She tries to tugs him down to her, frowning slightly. "Estelle is probably in our bed. Definitely actually." She sways on her feet, kept upright by his hand in hers.

"What?" He sounds distracted. He climbs down, lifting their joint hands, and walks around her, half-twirling her into his arms. He's back in her personal space: hands at the dip of her waist, and mouth seeking the erogenous zone below her ear.

"I told you." She tilts her head with a noise of pleasure. "Estelle's been sleeping with me."

He's walking her backwards, aiming for the couch, and they bump into the coffee table on the way.

"You didn't tell me anything…" he murmurs, trailing off, confused. "Wait, Estelle? You replaced me with Estelle?" His breath, bearing a heady odor of alcohol, fans across her face as he stops walking and drags his face from her neck to study her.

"Uh-huh." Annabeth is unbuttoning his white dress shirt with slightly drunken focus. "You look really good in white."

"No. No no no." He catches her wrists in his hands. "She can't keep doing that. Not when I'm here."

"You're gonna have to tell her that, big brother. Because I can't. I'm her best friend." She frees her hands and is working the last few buttons loose. "I want this, Perce. It's been a week…"

She's cut off as Percy sets into motion once again, dragging her into the kitchen. His open button-up fills like a windward sail as his rapid, long-legged strides take them through the entryway.

"But we can't," she bemoans. "There's no place for us…"

"Yes we can." Percy pulls her to the counter and she draws her hands up his neck; he backs her up and seals his mouth over hers. Her hands skate up and down his bare chest, along his sides, down the warm row of contracting abs. His hands rub over her ass, gripping it through the light blue patterned linen.

She brushes him below the belt, and he groans and lifts one hand to angle her head for a greedier, wetter kiss: suckling her lips and tongue and licking into her mouth.

The kiss ends with a damp noise. "This is a bad idea," Annabeth moans against his beard bristled cheek, drawing in labored breaths. Her fingers twist in the hair at his nape. She has widened her stance so he can stand between her legs and push her into the counter, his hips molded to hers. He's dragging his hands along her body, pausing to palm and massage what he can and she pulls his mouth back down to meet hers. A bad idea that feels so good, she thinks, as she pulls his lower lip into her mouth.

"This is a phenomenal idea, I think." Percy breathes this into her mouth before he grips the back of her thighs and hoists her up. He drops her on the counter, finding her leg through the slit once again to hold it to his hip.

"What are you up to Perseus Jackson?" She winds her arms around his neck and wraps her leg around his, anchoring him to her.

"What do you think I'm up to, Annabeth? Don't call me that." His hands have left her legs and have started working the long line of buttons on her dress free.

He looks edible: prickly jaw, rumpled hair, shirt open to display his tan, broad torso. Her personal Adonis. She massages her hands into the soft hair covering his chest. And he's trying to focus on unbuttoning her dress but he gets distracted too easily; pushing up her skirt to reveal more of her toned legs, meeting her mouth for heated kisses, and dragging his teeth against her chest.

It's dark in the kitchen and it feels so private and removed, because it's just them and their warm, heavy breathing and the rocking and gripping and rubbing and a mutual promise that's felt more than spoken and that promise is passed from mouth to mouth, from skin to skin and it iterates 'I won't take my hands off of you as long as you don't take yours off of me.'

Percy finally gets her dress fully unbuttoned. It's fire that follows, and though for a living he puts out flames, he'll stoke this heat until it consumes her. With my body I thee worship, that's another promise, a vow they made not even two months ago, and Percy covers a trembling Annabeth's cries with his mouth and makes good on that promise, putting an end to the week from hell with the tried and true rhythm of their moving bodies. With my body I thee worship; this is reconnection, and Percy holds her head in his hands as they seal this covenant.

They startle when the lights flicker on and off in rapid beats. Annabeth breaks their kiss in confusion.

"You guys are in my kitchen, and you guys are loud."

It's Sally. In the kitchen entryway. She's in a large gray bathrobe and the expression on her face is a little embarrassed, mostly fatigued, and very annoyed.

Annabeth makes a noise as they separate, and then she's flushing beet red and thinking about vomiting from embarrassment as she frantically pulls the halves of her dress together while Percy fumbles to pull his pants up from around his knees.

"Shit. Mom-"

"Oh my gods. Sally-"

In their uncoordinated movements, they accidentally knock over a vase of roses, which had, up until that moment, narrowly missed out on the action.

Sally reaches reflexively, stumbling forward from the entryway, but it's too late. It hits the tile with a way-too-loud crash.

That, of course, draws a worried Paul down the stairs, thump thump thump, and into the kitchen. Paul takes one look at the scene and leaves, mumbling something about a towel.

Sally is whispering furiously, "You better pray Estelle doesn't wake up, because this is a lot to explain." She's moving to the side of the counter opposite them to bend over and retrieve the roses from the wet, glassy mess and place them on the counter.

Percy has got his zip up and is rebuttoning Annabeth's dress, jaw clenched in discomfort, while she refastens her bra. He's disoriented, still a little drunk and trying to shake the feeling. Annabeth can't stop babbling in apology.

"I can't believe- Sally I'm so so sorry, we got carried away, totally carried away. And we had been drinking and- and, everyone was asleep upstairs-"

Percy pleads, "Annabeth," desperate for her to stop talking. They finish her buttons and he steps back to help her slide down from the countertop so she can turn and face Sally.

Light footsteps pat into the kitchen and Percy's still pounding heart drops to his spleen. Oh gods, he can't catch a break.

"Annabeth. You're back," Estelle says in a sweet, sleepy voice. She's awake. And she's shuffling to the counter to give her a hug, but all three of them yell.

"Stop!"

"Wait-"

"Estelle there's glass!"

She startles at their raised voices and steps back. Annabeth feels a fresh burn of tears and, frustrated, she pushes her palm against her forehead. Estelle is tired and confused and wipes wispy black hair out of her face. "Are you gonna come to bed Annabeth?"

Annabeth looks at Sally, who gestures and says, "Go, she needs to go back to sleep. Stelle-belle, Annabeth is gonna go up with you so you can go right back to sleep, alright?"

Estelle nods, and reaches her hand towards her.

Annabeth hurries to her, realizes she's only got one sandal on, scans the floor and locates her wayward shoe, then jams her foot in quickly and takes Estelle's hand, shocked at Sally trusting her young daughter with the woman she found nailing her son on her kitchen counter.

Sally's eyes follow the two of them out of the kitchen and up the stairs before she rounds on Percy, who's been leaning against the sink, buttoning his shirt.

"I don't have anything to say," she starts. Paul is back with a towel and he underhand tosses it to Percy. One awkward "alrighty then" later and he's out of the kitchen as Sally's rant continues. "You two are married at this point and even if you weren't, I wouldn't care." She bends down to pick up the larger chunks of glass. "But to come back here so late? Drunk?"

She tosses the broken glass into the trash can Percy has grabbed and is holding towards her. "And you're loud enough to wake up the entire house? This isn't some frat house, baby. Did you consider Paul, or Estelle?"

Percy drags his hand over his mouth, speechless. His eyes are drawn to the messy smear of red lipstick on his hand. The same red that had been applied oh-so-enticingly to Annabeth's mouth is now a smudge on his palm, and the full mortification of the moment settles on him so sharply he almost feels angry.

"Hey. Mom. I'm sorry. Look, I've got it. I'm sorry." Sally stands slowly and watches Percy impatiently pick up the remaining shards before he drops the towel over the main splash. The towel unnaturally absorbs the wetness, and it takes her tired mind a couple seconds to realize Percy is causing the fabric to draw in droplets that have spread further along the kitchen floor. Sally blinks when Percy snatches it up and drops the sodden thing into the sink.

He doesn't look at her when he grabs the broom from where it's tucked next to the refrigerator and starts sweeping up the remaining evidence of the mishap.

"Well," she begins. Percy still won't look at her.

"Percy." He looks up from what he's doing, detecting a hint of merriment in her voice.

"Mom-"

It's too late. She's laughing, it's a mix of disbelief and exhaustion and vindication, then she's turning away to walk out of the kitchen.

"In the damn kitchen."

Percy fully stops sweeping and looks down at the broom handle in his hands. "Fuck." He says it so matter-of-factly that Sally starts laughing even harder, and his shoulders shake as even he begins to chuckle.

"My girlfriends will be hearing about this."

"Oh please, Mom, don't..." Percy begs, ears going red as he resumes his task.

"Nope, it's my right as mother and witness." She turns at the entryway to face him, brows raised and with a smile that dares him to argue. "And you seem to have this," she gestures to the remaining mess, "handled, so I'm going back to bed."

She's out of the kitchen, waving her hand dismissively.

He still hears her say, "I mean, you know these things, but lord help me, you never want to see them."

---

Percy walks into their temporary bedroom and finds Annabeth, makeup-less and in his t-shirt and a pair of his sweats, laying with a sleeping Estelle, brushing her hair away from her face. She glances at him when he enters, then her eyes are back on the seven year old.

He starts undressing for bed. "You were really serious about her sleeping with you."

Annabeth nods.

He pulls off his briefs and tugs on a pair of pajama bottoms, only grabbing a t-shirt when she gives him a pointed look.

"So how are we ever gonna finish what we started in the kitchen?"

"We aren't." She stares him down as he joins them in bed. "Not in this house."

His eyes widen. "You can't be serious?"

She purses her lips and her eyebrows draw together. She is serious. "Percy. That was mortifying. In a horrible, sobering way."

He gets under the covers. "Yeah. It was. I get that. But in the end Mom was laughing. She's not exactly a nun." He turns on his side. "Otherwise I wouldn't exist."

"It's one thing to be a happy duo of not-nuns. It's another thing to walk into your son and your daughter-in-law having sex on your kitchen counter." Her hand slowly rubs Estelle's back. "I can't even think about sex with you without recalling her expression."

Percy rolls his eyes. He watches her soothe his sleeping sister.

"This is cute," he comments after a moment. She smiles slightly in answer, eyes still on Estelle. "But, I'm not gonna lie, it sort of turns me on in a thinking-about-making-babies-with-you kind of way."

She looks at him with a frown. "You are horrible."

"Remember who had an orgasm back there? Remember who didn't?"

Her face relaxes out of the frown and she's remorseful enough to blush before her attention goes back to Estelle.

"Come on." He reaches over Estelle to briefly shake Annabeth's thigh. "Where's my best friend, my wife, Annabeth Chase? Daring. Demanding. A sexual deviant."

"She had a too-close encounter with your mom, and will not be available for the next five weeks."

He props his head up with his elbow.

"So you're gonna use my sister as a cock block?"

She doesn't reply, but he sees a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

He shakes his head, "You are unbelievable."

He balances over Estelle, kisses her forehead, then leans further to kiss Annabeth's mouth. "But I'm irresistible. So you're not gonna last."

"You're very cocky."

"You love me like that. You fake prude."

#six weeks at the blofis's #mypjofic #percy jackon and the olympians #percabeth #percy and annabeth

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sourbat · 3 years

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A Missed Call

Because you can never have enough magtok, here’s an old one shot I wrote some time back for the holidays, but never got to releasing.

Summary: After a rough morning and bad rehearsal, Toki retreats and listens to an old, missed call saved on his dethphone.

Pair: Toki and Magnus

Rating: T

Read on Ao3 or click read more below!

Following a long night of painting a recently completed figurine, Toki woke up late on the morning of a planned recording session, one he had practiced for beforehand. Toki checked the time, panicked and hurriedly put on some clothes, skipped the shower, and rushed to the upper levels and kitchen to grab some fruit as a quick and easy breakfast. On his way to rehearsal, he got woozy and had to double back retrieve his insulin. When Toki finally arrived, everyone was already in a foul mood. Knubbler mentioned losing two saved recordings, and apparently Murderface raised a fit about it. No one entertained his tardiness, and Toki could tell that patience was wearing thin, but still insisted he get some recordings in to show his dedication to the band.

Since he left his guitar behind in his room, Skwisgaar tentatively offered one of his own, lips pursed and brows sinking while Toki readjusted the harness, tightened a string. It seemed every small action he performed while scrambling to the tinier recording room earned the ire of his lead guitarist, and when they settled, Toki sensed the increasing weight of the atmosphere, the building gravity and high expectations that few could reach.

He couldn’t concentrate. Not with Skwisgaar frowning at him, eyes stained with contempt, arms crossed tightly to his chest and fingers rapidly tapping the correct rhythm across his rigid form.

Knubbler gave Toki permission to go, but his eyes couldn’t break from the imaginary strings rapidly coursing through Skwisgaar’s busy hands. He knew Skwisgaar was comparing their speed and overall performance. Toki saw the frown extend downwards, finding his attempt inadequate. Toki flubbed the first recording, and just four measures into his part. He messed up on the second and third try. He made it as far as the first rest, then messed up again.

Sixteen measures and another set of wrong notes later, Skwisgaar finally had had enough, and the passive remarks began. Toki couldn’t play over Skwisgaar loudly pointing out every wrong note he tried teaching. With the room filled with a never-ending tirade of “noes,” Knubbler had no choice but to stop recording. The moment he announced the news, Skwisgaar grabbed the guitar by the neck and loudly insisted through Toki’s headset that he would play the parts instead.

The news proved fatal to his esteem. Aghast, Toki pleaded with Skwisgaar to let him try one more time. He grabbed the older man by his top, but then sank and fell on his knees. Skwisgaar wouldn’t have it, nor would Knubbler who, after bringing a hand to cover the red light flaring in his optical devices, suggested an emergency fifteen-minute break.

Tensions were high as Skwisgaar exited the small room, hand clasping the guitar and swinging with a vigor that warned Pickles and Nathan to back off and keep their mouths shut. Murderface left the couch to grab some snacks, and when he returned, saw Toki inching his way to the nearest door.

“You alright, Toki?” he asked through loud chews and smacks.

Toki didn’t answer. His head sank, leaving just a nub of a neck and messy chestnut veil before he reached for the door.

Knubbler turned in his seat. “Tough luck, babe. Come back in fifteen, alright?”

“Or don’ts, nots like we’lls notice,” Skwisgaar said under his breath, earning a sharp jolt from Toki’s shoulder before he stomped out of the room.

Nathan sighed. “Skwisgaar.”

“Dood, no need ta’ be a–”

The door shut, and at the sound of the lock clicking, Toki pressed his back into the adjoining wall. Cool stone tempered his rigid, hot spine. It pushed the heat forward, through his chest, then spilled down his cheeks in a furious heat. Toki slid to the floor, legs retracting and arms coiled round to bring them up to his chest. He sighed and tried shutting his eyes, only to have to watch himself repeat the same mistake again, observe his clumsy fingers resting on top the wrong string, wrong fret, sloppily strumming and ending up with a nasty fuzz that only further infuriated Skwisgaar. A heaviness collected across his beet-reddened face before going limp. He buried his face between his shaking legs. He spent the next few moments in silence, head spinning and throat shut, refusing the smallest intake of air until Skwisgaar’s harsh words turned into blurry static.

The pain that swelled in his chest raged forth, climbing up his strained neck, reaching behind his eyes and sending a throb that warned Toki of an impending sob. He sucked a sharp breath, filling his chest and stomach until his belly hurt, then shuttered an uneven exhale. The anxiety whirled in his abdomen, a miniature storm that threatened to burst into a panicked state if he didn’t act quick.

Toki blinked, feeling the wet sting forming in his eyes. He released his shaking, numbing legs, letting one drop while keeping the other close for support. Head still lost in the dark fog, Toki reached for his pocket, and pulled out his phone. He wiped his face, dragged an arm across his nose and sniffed hard, sucking up the collecting moisture into his ailing throat, and went through his dethphone’s multiple applications.

His thumb lingered over a message dating back nearly eight months. Toki sniveled over it, tongue lapping around his lips as he glanced at the time, the length of the message. Wide eyes darted to the ends of the hallway. When he determined there were no oncoming gears, he pressed play on the screen.

The phone’s display went dark for a second, then vibrated with a rapture of noises. Toki’s bottom lips curled inward, teeth pressing on top the skin as he watched the screen come alive with shadows, the blur of a swaying phone failing to focus on a single image, and the colorful, out-of-focus city lights in the backdrop.

Then, humming. Toki instantly calmed when he heard the slow, off-tune notes, followed by the screen moving, raised up to reveal Magnus' curious face lazily staring into the screen. “…why aren’t you answering your phone?”

The voice fuzzed as Magnus brought the screen closer, angle crooked as he leaned to one side, body lax and swaying with each step.

“Just as well. Shit.” Toki broke into a chuckle as Magnus stumbled forward. The camera toggled, pointed upwards at the sky. The first time it had happened, Toki yelped, panicked over Magnus potentially falling and breaking his neck. Now, he counted the seconds of Magnus’ extended groan, then smiled at the incoming giggle that sluggishly transitioned into a prolonged, nonsensical song. “Dadadaaaa…”

Feeling a bit more at ease, Toki’ s second leg began to sink, and both hands fixed to the screen as he toggled the phone to its side. When he checked again, Magnus was back to a (crooked) stand, happy and quite pleased with himself not falling flat on his face. A car zoomed by in the background. The lights at the intersection turned green, and Magnus brought his tongue out to wet his drying lips.

“Leave it to the one time I figure how to use this dumb app, just my luck.” Magnus rolled his head back, messy hair whisking, flowing out of tandem with his uneven gait. He shut his eyes. “I know I said…I’m sorry I’m drunk, buddy. God, I miss you right now.”

Toki wiped his eyes, giving a short nod. “S’okay,” he whispered, letting a thumb come close to petting the drunk Magnus who’d broken his promise not to drink too much, at least now without Toki to look after him.

Magnus stared back. Not at the light, nor the screen, but at Toki. “Hope you’re, uhh, having fun right now. Whatever you’re doing.”

Toki shook his head.

Magnus’ expression softened. “You know, I miss you,” he slurred to the phone’s receiver. “A lot. Like, holy shit, dude. You gotta come back soon. Hit me up, even if it’s just to yell at me for breaking my promise.”

Toki sniffled as Magnus pulled away from the camera. His hand turned inward, almost as though he were trying to cradle the screen, reach and cup the face of the Toki who had failed to pick up the call several months ago. Even then, it had been hard to stay angry at him. Disappointed, sure, but Toki couldn’t stay mad at the man who went out of his way to learn how to use his Facebones-time app, call and speak from the heart.

Thinking of it, Toki glued himself to the screen, silently awaiting the next portion.

“I really miss you,” Magnus continued. He leaned against the wall of some unknown building, his sinking head still favoring a particular side. “I know you’re on tour and all, and I gotta be fucking patient but…this is going to sound so cheesy, but I miss seeing your smile.”

Just hearing the words lifted the ends of Toki’s mouth. On screen, Magnus’ expression softened, eyes blurred with sudden realization.

“I miss you telling me to stop scowling all the time, and I miss you telling me it’s ok…”

“If ams not readies to smiles yet,” Toki whispered to the screen.

“–if I don’t feel ready to smile yet.” Magnus made a face that, to this day, made Toki feel just a little anxious. What was going on in his head, he wondered. Did Magnus know what he was about to say?

He watched Magnus palm his hand over his bad eye. “Fuuuuck, what am I saying?”

“Everytinks you wants, Magnus,” Toki answered the recording. His heart picked up, anticipating the final portion of Magnus’ drunken rambling, the denouement of his accidental message, and that final push Toki needed to help him get through this miserable day.

The screen emitted hardly any sounds, producing only the subtle changes brought on by the late autumn winds, the occasional roll of a speeding car, and Magnus’ own relaxed breathing.

“You’ve probably already deleted this,” Magnus murmured to himself. Or to Toki? Hard to say. The smile he cracked was aimed at no one in particular, but each time he lifted his head, and Toki saw his long waves brush across face and reveal the longing in his eyes, he thought Magnus must have known, deep down, what he was going to say. “I’m drunk and I’m swearing and I miss you, and I love you, and the more I think about you being away for two more weeks–”

Just like that. The three words Toki had tried prying from Magnus for weeks, months, had slipped through the cracks and were uttered during a random night spent drinking alone.

“–It kills me. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Toki stroked the screen. “Ams fine, Magnus.”

“Well, that’s all. I just wanted to tell you I love you. And miss you. And as soon as you get back I want you to tell me how you got on stage and rocked the hell out of everyone’s soul. The same way you do mine whenever you… hehehehehe…ah, shit .”

Caught between their shared laughter was Magnus stumbling forward, and like every past play through, Toki quieted down, paused the video once he remembered what Magnus had said, and rewound it just to hear it again. He obsessed over the second “I love you,” all casual and free. The “I love you” that was comfortably tucked between other facets, and said with no restraints, no second-guessing. It was a feeling he admitted to without any forethought, and spoken from the heart.

“Call me back, ok?”

Magnus’ hand covered the screen. It took him a while to accurately bring an end to the call, but while he muttered to himself, questioned and asked no one in particular how to shut off the app, Toki meandered in place, wiggling as he relived the words, Magnus voice setting free that momentous confession thought the form of a simple, missed call. It would be another two months before he whispered the words, so soft and faint, and yet somehow carrying the weight of the universe on top of it. That sober confession would be as impactful, and while Toki spent nights replaying how shy Magnus had been when he first shyly announced his love to him, nothing quite compared to the drunk Magnus who casually remarked his affections.

“Will calls you soons,” Toki said to the phone, then closed the app. He would, and he’d do everything within his power to reverse the tragic alignments set before him, and turn this shitty day into something decent and worth discussing. Skwisgaar could yell at him, but Toki would still try his best. He’d play his heart out like Magnus expected him to, and would have something to show for it once it was over.

Toki checked the time, and saw he had about five minutes left until his break ended, and another two hours before Magnus had to wake up to get ready for work. His nerves still shook from the memory of his recent failure. Toki sighed. Eyes closed, he saw Magnus standing alone, city lights a messy blur, veiled under a heavy and tiresome drunken haze. If that man could figure out how to use his phone and video call him, cheer him on and tell him how much he cared about him, then Toki could finish a session and get his part in the demo.

He reentered the room a seconds later, warmed face hit with the thick atmosphere.

Pickles and Nathan stopped their discussion to check on him as he slowly approached. Nathan regarded Toki with a gentle nod. “You ok, Toki?”

“Ams fine, thanks for askins.” Toki waved shyly at the two. Thankfully, Skwisgaar was nowhere to be found. While it didn’t guarantee a permanent reprieve from the stress to come, it did allot Toki some additional time to prepare for the rest of his session. Remembering Magnus’ encouraging words, his drunken, cherry-red smile and airy laugh that always reached so high before cracking, Toki exhaled. He pushed out as much of his anxieties as he could, the panic that settled across his queasy belly, and he walked over to Skwisgaar’s guitar.

Pickles raised a brow, popped the gum he’d been chewing as Toki adjusted the strap, and then proceeded to the recording room.

“Hey, Toki.” Nathan interjected, still reclined comfortably in his seat, and not appearing slightly offended when Toki met his obtrusive glare with oblivious perplexity. “Where are you going?”

“To practice,” Toki answered. Charged by his response, Toki confidently turned for the smaller room. “Goinks to show Skwisgaar ams not a screws-up,” he said, voice carrying a surge of an impending storm, raw energy that filled his expanding chest with the assurance he needed to get him through the session.

As he opened the door, Magnus' voice entered his mind:

Rock the hell out of everyone’s soul.

#toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #fanfic #magtok #hammertooth #drinking #sad times #but wholesome feels #skwisgaar is ams dick in this one #sorry

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animemangasoul · 4 years

Text

5 times Tachihara is shocked by people kissing his co-worker on the cheek and one time he does it himself

Chapter: 4/6 - Dazai

He doesn't witness any strange interactions between his coworkers and his partner during the next couple of weeks and for a second Tachihara almost manages to forget it all but alas, luck was never written in the stars for a guy like him and only two days after he'd just about relaxed and let his guard down, it happens again.

Or more precisely, it happens between Gin and that agency member Dazai Osamu.

Now, he knew Akutagawa was somehow obsessed with this man, but how the hell had this traitor somehow gotten his claws into Gin as well?

It happens while they're on their way back from a run of the mill shakedown of one of their providers, and Tachihara and Gin are hobbling their way back; nursing their joint injuries when a sharp whistle cut through the air.

They are immediately on high alert. Back to back with guns and blades pointing outwards; protecting each other's flanks.

Tachihara was tense. Muscles taunt and a grimace of a shadow carving across his mouth.

It was times like these; when he couldn't predict an ambush or an attack that he almost instinctively defaulted to his ability.

'But I can't,' he told himself, eyes narrow and gaze searching. 'I can't let Gin find out.'

And speaking of Gin.

"At ease," came a cheerful voice from... above them? And sure enough, a shadow dropped down from the sky with all the grace of a wingless bird and crashed down in front of them.

"Ouch," the shadow said; voice muffled, an all Tachihara could do was blink in confusion and surprise.

"What?" He said, gun momentarily slacking.

The figure on the ground was quick to scramble back on his feet and brush himself of with a airy laugh, head tilted down so his hair was shielding his face and bandaged fingers skimming lightly across his coat, wiping away imaginary dust.

"Sorry, sorry," the mistery figure hummed. "I was sure the fall would kill me, but hey" he shrugged. "What can you do."

At this point, Tachihara had pretty much guessed who the weirdo was and his gun; while not fully lowered, was looking much less threatening in his grip.

"Dazai Osamu," he said slowly, voice wholy unimpressed. "What are you doing here?"

His tone didn't seem to deter their unwanted guest any; in fact only spurring him on as he with a quick swish of his body, passed by Tachihara as if he wasn't there and was now curling his whole body around Gin like an octopus.

"I came to check in on my adorable little Gin," he exclaimed; eyes watering superficially.

"Your brother was worried and distracted throughout his mission so I came to check on you to give him a peace of mind!" All the while he was rubbing his cheek against the white mask covering half of Gin face, patting the man condescendingly atop of his head and swaying both their bodies back and forth.

Brother? Gin? What?

"What ar- are you seriou.... why are you even here?" Tachihara spluttered; red faced and annoyance driving him up the wall.

The simple fact of Dazai Osamu hugging Gin was making his stomach coil in disgust.

But his less than eloquent question only made the former port mafia member snort in amusement.

"I already told you," he said; nuzzling even closer to Gin and making Tachihara's heckles rise. "I came to make sure Gin was ok."

"Well he is," Tachihara snapped. Irriation coursing through his veins. "So leave."

Whatever he said most have amused Dazai greatly because the older male laughed loudly at his threatening tone and tucked his face into the crook of Gin's neck.

"Don't wanna," he muttered where he was hiding behind his partner's hair. "Gin is warm and soft. I like hugging him."

This had gone on long enough.

Fingers twitching at the trigger, itching to fire a shot into that smug bastard's face, Tachihara took a deep breath, then another, to calm his fraying nerves.

“Don't shoot your temporary ally," he muttered to himself. 'Do not shoot your temporary ally. Mori-sensei wouldn't be happy about it and if you get kicked out, the hunting do.... Do not shoot your temporary ally.'

Dazai seemed to find his whole struggle amusing and Tachihara would have done anything at that point to wipe that smug look of his face if he hadn't keenly noticed how unbothered Gin appared to be about the whole situation.

In fact, his partner had all but put all of his knives way at this point, thin, lilt fingers reaching up slowly to card through the dark-brown tangled mess that was Dazai Osamu's hair.

The introduder sighed in content and snuggled even closer.

"Good to see you're doing well Gin," he muttered after a second of just staring down tachihara with the most shit-eating grin Tachihara had ever seen. "Gotta go now~"

And with those last sing-songy words, he jumped back; making Tachihara's shoulders fall down in almost subconscious relief before he reached out (lightening quick) grabbing Gin by the back of the neck until there was only an inch between their faces and with a momentary pause of utter michief, Dazai closed the remaining distance between them and pecked the white cloth over Gin's face; right where his mouth would have been.

Tachihara turned beet red. Cheek flushes so bright he was afraid they would never dim down again.

What the... wh.... did he just... Gin -- how dare he just...

A light twinkle of a laughter escaped passed Gin right as he was about to lose it, and Tachihada froze in surprise.

Gin eyes widening with a mirrored shock as he too seemed taken of guard by his own action but then his shoulders fell back down and his eyes crinkled at the corners and without sparing Tachihara so much as a glance, leaned over and brushed his bandaged mouth over Dazai's cheek.

Tachihara felt something in his chest crumble.

The action was all playful and fond, and looking closer none of it looked particularly sexual or romantic, but the fact that Gin was comfortable with Dazai to treat him in such fashion...

It made a sickening feeling lodge itself in his throat

Gin had never let his guard down around him like that.

Dazai seemed over the moon about the whole display of surprising affection though, leaning down to ruffle Gin's hair and smiling down at him with a gentleness Tachihara had only witnessed in Chuuya-san.

"Take care of yourself Gin," he said; voice dipping low and taking on a tone Tachihara couldn't really place. "And keep and eye out for anything suspecious."

With that he waved at them both casually; fingers dancing dramatically through the air before he pranced off God knows where.

Leaving Gin looking fond and Tachihara feeling nauseated.

To be continued....

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

#bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfic #tachihara michizou #Dazai Osamu #akutagawa gin #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bsd

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rorynne · 5 years

Text

Got That Swing

Pairing: Bucky/barton!Reader, Reader&brother!Clint

Summary: Bucky learns you don't know how to dance during a drinking game, so he decides to teach you.

Warnings: Alcohol use, Sibling fighting, Death threats

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this one for a while, I hope you all enjoy it. Personally, I can't get enough of brother!Clint

Masterlist

You sighed, plopping down onto the couch, laying across the length of it. The last mission had been rough, to say the least. Even a few days later, morale was decidedly low. Everyone seemed to be tired. The wind was knocked out of you as a crushing weight collapsed on to of you. You struggled beneath the weight, catching a glimpse of the back of Clint’s head when you turned yours to see.

“Clint! You weigh a ton! Get. Off.” You wheezed under him as you bucked him off the couch.

“Hey!” He protested as he rolled off of you, “You're the one hogging the couch!” You stuck your tongue out at him; he dragged you and the pillow you were clinging to off the couch in retaliation. You yelped, hitting him in the head with the pillow, knocking him back.

“Battle for the couch?” Steve questioned as he walked in with Sam and Bucky.

“Every night,” Natasha said, not bothering to look away from her phone as you attempted to smother Clint with the pillow. You two fighting like this was such a regular occurrence, Tony didn't even bother to acknowledge it as he moved around you towards the bar. Clint threw you over the coffee table and scrambled onto the couch between Sam and Steve before you could recover. You glared at him, chucking the pillow at his head. The only thing that made having an avenger for a brother was being an avenger yourself.

“That was my seat, Fuckface.” You complained.

Clint only shrugged, “I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.”

You narrowed your eyes, “I'm poisoning your coffee.”

“Just make sure to use arsenic so that it doesn't ruin the flavor.” He said, completely unconcerned. You crinkled your nose in frustration, briefly considering continuing the fight before deciding to let Clint win this round.

“You can sit next to me if you'd like, Doll.” Bucky offered, scooting over on the loveseat. His offer made your heart swoop, you've had feelings for the super soldier for months now. You never let yourself get too physically close to him as a result, out of fear you might embarrass yourself.

Before you could politely decline, Clint spoke up, knowing damn well how you felt, “There you go, Y/N, you can sit next to Bucky.” His shit-eating grin was more than enough to tell you it was a challenge.

You scowled at him, stubbornly taking the seat next to Bucky, not wanting Clint to win again. “Thanks, Buck, I'm glad to see that some people still have manners.”

“We grew up in a circus, you don't get manners,” Clint said, sticking his tongue out and tossing the pillow back at you. I would have hit you squarely in the face had Bucky not caught it. Bucky glanced at steve, smirking, before hurling the pillow back at Clint, hitting him in the stomach with such force it knocked the wind out of him. You burst out laughing as Clint gasped for air.

“Using the metal arm was just unfair.” Clint wheezed.

“I didn't,” Buck said as Tony came back with a tray of drinks.

“Now that the children are done trying to kill each other, how about a drinking game?” Tony said, setting the tray on the coffee table.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Seriously Tony?”

“What?” Tony said, waving a hand in the air. “We’re all stressed, and tired, and I'm giving us a way to unwind.”

“By playing drinking games like teenagers.” Steve challenged but was very noticeably not saying no.

“What did you have in mind?” Natasha questioned, looking over the display of drinks.

“Tony considered her question for a moment, “Never have I ever?” He suggested.

“I'm in.” You and Clint immediately answered.

“Never have I ever with two es-carnies? Oh, this is gonna be good.” Sam said, grabbing a bottle of beer. Steve sighed, nodded, and poured himself a glass of Asgardian mead. One by one, everyone took their drink of choice.

“Since this was my idea, I’ll start,” Tony said, taking a seat on the arm of the couch next to Steve. “Never have I ever become a war criminal.” Everyone but Tony groaned and drank. The rivalries caused by the Accords were long since over, but that didn't mean that Tony wasn't going to use it against his friends to get them drunk. “Your turn Capsicle.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Never have I ever had to seduce a target.” Natasha glared at him, taking a drink. Clint sighed and drank as well.

“Hold up.” Sam looked at Clint incredulously, “You had to seduce someone?”

“I didn't have to,” Clint admitted, “But I still tried.” With that, Tony took a drink. “Never have I ever been a super-soldier.” Steve and Bucky drank while Clint smiled triumphantly, everyone knew it was payback for the pillow.

“Never have I ever had a thing for an avenger,” Sam said. You flushed as your eyes flicked between Natasha and Bucky before taking a drink with everyone else. Sam smirked. “Let me guess.”

“Natasha.” You, Clint, Steve, and Tony admitted in unison.

“When I first saw her take a man down with her thighs I thought I was having a religious experience.” You said, recalling your now long dead crush.

Clint tipped his glass in the air, “I can drink to that.” He said, taking a sip.

“Is wanting to fuck people that can easily kill you a Barton trait?” Tony quipped.

You and Clint looked at each other for a moment before nodding. “You should see his ex-wife.” You teased making Clint roll his eyes.

Sam nodded his head towards Bucky, a smile playing on his lips. “What about you Tin Man. You drank. Who do you have a thing for?”

Bucky glared at Sam, “You already damn well know that answer. And, as a reminder, I know at least 100 ways to kill you with just my pinky.” Sam held his hands up in surrender, snickering.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Never have I ever jumped out of a plane without a parachute.” You, Clint, and Steve drank. You were already starting to feel dizzy from the alcohol.

“In our defense,” You said, holding a finger in the air. “The plane was going to explode.”

“And we survived,” Clint added.

“And we survived.” You nodded in agreement.

“How?” Bucky asked, mildly horrified. He was used to Steve being reckless at this point, but seeing what human train wrecks you and Clint could be together was honestly terrifying.

“Cable arrow and another plane.” You grinned, Bucky could very easily imagine the two of you clinging to a rope attached to a plane until it landed.

Clint nodded, “Gotta respect the gear.”

You took a deep breath, thinking of your question. “Never have I ever…” You tilted your head, shrugging. “Danced.”

Bucky gave you a strange look as he took his drink. “You’ve really never danced?”

You shook your head, making the room spin slightly. “No, never. Don't know how.”

Bucky sighed, pushing himself up from the love seat, pulling you up with him. “Come on, Doll.”

Your eyes went wide at the sudden movement. “W-what?”

“It’s a crime that a beautiful dame like you has never danced. I'm fixing that.” He said, pulling you closer to him, swaying slightly.

You flushed beet red at how close you were. “I, I don't know how, and there's no music.”

“FRIDAY, play some Duke Ellington.” Tony snickered, fully enjoying the scene as ‘It Don’t Mean A Thing’ began playing.

You glared at Tony as Bucky whispered in your ear, “Just follow my lead, Doll.”

“O-okay.” You stuttered as he led you through a few simple steps. Sam whistled and clapped as you both began to dance in earnest.

“See? You've got it already, you're a natural,” he said, making you smile with pride. Dancing with him was actually surprisingly fun, though, you weren't sure if it was due to your crush or the alcohol. “I'm gonna lift you okay?” You didn’t have time to answer before he picked you up, swinging you in his strong arms, making you yelp and laugh at the sensation. The world felt like it had disappeared as you danced together. As if it were only you and him. You could live forever in this sensation you decided. Unfortunately, it was overall too soon as he finished with a flourish of twirls, leaving you dizzy. “I told you you'd be fine.” He grinned from ear to ear, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He led you back to your seat, arm still around your waist.

His arm didn't leave your waist as you both sat down, nor did it for the rest of the night. Not that you noticed, your mind was too focused on the dance to even consider how close the two of you were anymore. The drinking game soon morphed into a drunken movie night as the night went on. You quickly found yourself asleep, curled into Bucky's side, before the first movie was even half over.

Bucky was already sober by the time everyone began going to bed. He could thank the serum for that. He smiled down at you, snuggled into his side, it was the first time he had ever been so close to you, and he was enjoying every minute of it. He was almost afraid to disturb you, should you move away from him like you always did. But, he couldn't just let you sleep out in the common room all night because he had a crush.

He nodded to Steve as he picked you up, carrying you to your room. You stirred slightly as he laid you on your bed. “Are we dancing again?” You mumbled sleepily as the room seemed to spin.

He smiled at your almost hopeful tone. “No Doll. Did you want to?” You nodded drowsily as you slipped back into sleep. “Maybe tomorrow then.” He whispered, kissing your forehead. He was sure you wouldn't remember the conversation in the morning, as he left a glass of water and aspirin on your bedside table. But that was okay, he would be happy to remind you.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #clint barton #clint barton x family!reader #avengers x reader #avengers

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imagineangryspacegrump-blog · 7 years

Text

Body Dilemma

(Don’t have anything to put for a second gif so just enjoy this one:))

Prompt: Reader and Bones switch bodies and decide to keep it a secret until they're both hit on by fellow crewmembers -Anon

Warnings: Mentions of sex, friendly banter

Word Count: 1880

A/n: This was a little weird but whatever :P

Your socked feet hit the hard floor in a fast rhythm as you ran down the halls of the Enterprise, a few people throwing you weird glances as you did so. When a very familiar door came into view, you stopped, sliding a little on the slick floor due to your socks. Grabbing onto the wall to regain your balance, you knocked, rather roughly, trying to control your elevated breathing.

"Leonard? Leonard ya in there?" You kept your voice down so you didn't attract any unwanted attention but it didn't do anything to dampen the deep, naturally loud voice you had obtained a few minutes ago.

Quick footfalls made their way to the door and after a second, the door slid open slightly, revealing another person.

The person gave you a once over before stepping back so you could slip through the door and lock it shut behind you.

Taking a deep breath once you were locked in, you turned around to face the person who was seething and red faced in anger.

That person was, well, you. An exact, carbon copy.

Let's go back a little bit.

A few minutes ago, you had woken up in a strange room, on a strange bed with strange clothes on. After further inspection of the room, you found it to be your best friend's (and secret crush's) quarters.

You didn't think you had gotten drunk the night before and ran with him to his room, although that would have been a nice thing to wake up to.

Thing's got even weirder when you swung your leg's off the bed and found that they actually hit the floor instead of having your toes brush the hard surface.

Then you noticed the weird clothing and new shape of your body. You had gray baggy sweats on that hung loosely on your hips, and a tight fit white tank top that showed how unnaturally flat your chest was. Did you manage to lose boob instead of gain any like you had wished for?

After the horrifying realization that the body was not yours, you stood up and ran awkwardly to the bathroom. Your feet were way bigger than what you were used to and you were a lot farther away from the floor so running was a chore.

When you saw Leonard in the mirror, you let out a deep yelp that felt abnormal compared to your usually higher pitched voice. After touching your, or Leonard's, face for a solid 5 minutes, you snapped back to your senses and high-tailed it to the door, running back to your quarters where you hoped Leonard was waiting.

"What did you do? Why did we switch bodies? And why the hell do you have to be so short!? I fell off the bed a few minutes ago, thinking the floor was somewhere it wasn't."

The other you was beet red, in anger or embarrassment, you didn't know but it was amusing. From the looks of it, Leonard had dragged the comforter off your bed and wrapped himself in it, probably to keep himself hidden since you had gone to bed the night before in panties and a loose fitting tank top.

"Hey, I have nothing to do with this. I'm in the same situation you are pal. And now you know how I feel 24/7 with all the stupid short jokes you and Jim torture me with." You snapped back.

Leonard growled and grabbed at his/your hair, the blanket falling to the ground in the process. You chuckled as he scrambled to pick it back up and throw it over his shoulder's, grumbling all the while.

"S-Shut up! At least I have the decency to wear some clothes to bed, not these... flimsy pieces of cloth!"

"Hey, that's what I normally sleep in. If I had known this was going to happen, I would've put something on to save you from the obvious embarrassment you're feeling. At least I actually wore clothes last night. You're lucky I didn't sleep naked like I do on occasion."

Leonard's face turned a bright red and he stumbled on his words. "You-You sleep naked?"

"Yeah, sometimes. It get's really hot in here." You shrugged. You couldn't even imagine how weird you must've looked/sounded in this body, saying those things with such sincerity in a deep voice.

Leonard just stared into deep space, not saying a word. He was probably trying to get over the whole sleeping naked thing.

"So should we go tell Jim about our predicament?"

Leonard immediately jumped up. "NO! No, we can't tell Jim. He would never let me live this down. We'll just go around like normal and hope that this whole thing straightens itself out. If not, we'll either have to tell someone or live the rest of our lives like this."

"Ok then. Well... we better get ready for the day. See ya in a few. And don't do anything weird to my body!"

Before he could react, you were gone.

The day actually went by relatively smooth. The two of you turned out to be great actors and played the other well. Leonard had a little trouble, seeing as 'happy and sweet' were not in his daily fernacular. But overall, no one suspected a thing. When the end of the day rolled around though, was when things got a little screwy.

Jim waltzed into the room with a confident sway to his step, as he usually did all hours of the day.

"Bones! How've you been? We haven't seen each other in ages."

You put a scowl onto your face and grumbled out. "We saw each other yesterday, dumbass."

It was weird. You could actually look Jim in the eye without the hassle of craning your neck to look skyward.

"Well yeah, but it's still been too long." Jim's five-second attention span turned to focus on something else. "Y/nnnnnnnn! How's it going? Taking care of yourself? Got yourself a boyfriend yet?"

Leonard stiffened immensely as Jim wrapped an arm around 'your' waist and pulled him flush against Jim's side. "U-Uh no. No I haven't. Stop flirting with me, I don't like it."

Jim didn't move but pressed his free hand to his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch sweetheart, that wounds me. I thought you liked it when I flirted with ya?"

As he spoke, Jim got closer and closer to Leonard's face, making Leonard flinch away in annoyance. Jim slowly leaned down, whispering something, probably sexual knowing Jim, in Leonard's ear. Leonard's face grew bright red, but not in the way you had originally thought.

To everyone in the room's shock, Leonard shoved Jim back with hidden strength, screaming profanities.

"You never try that shit again, you hear!? If I said no, I. MEAN. NO." Leonard really got fired up, turning to look at everyone in the room. "DON'T ANY OF YOU EVER THINK ABOUT FLIRTING WITH ME AGAIN. I’M TAKEN."

Your eye's widened as he ranted to the whole room. Did he really notice all that?

Not wanting him to ruin your reputation any more than Leonard already had with all the screaming, you walked up, albeit cautiously, and set an abnormally large hand on his shoulder.

Leonard spun around, ready to spit insults at whoever had dared touch him during his out roar, but he softened when he saw you. Even though you were in a different body, he could still tell you were doing what you did best, which was calming him down.

Surprising everyone, Leonard had the gull to reach up and grab your scruffy face, bringing you down for a kiss.

It was over just as fast as it had started when Leonard jumped back.

"Oh my god, I just kissed myself." He mumbled quietly, which you responded by snorting in laughter, trying to hide the complete awestruck feeling that was consuming your body.

He glared at you but it wasn't as harsh as usual, especially when he was in your body, which wasn't nearly as intimidating. Jim walked up and looked at you in shock.

"Bones, you actually got someone to kiss you. Is it Christmas? I didn't think it was Christmas." He turned to a nearby nurse who jumped at the sudden attention. "Is it?"

"Shut up Jim, it's not Christmas. And who says I never get any action? Anyway, I'm Bones, not her."

Jim was quiet for a second before snorting. "I know. I knew from the second you snapped and started screaming at people. Y/n would never do that. But I do have one super serious question for you... Have you guys had sex like this?"

Leonard and you both blanched. "W-What? No! -"

"'Cuz I mean, you have the chance to experience what it's like on the other side of things, you know? If I were in your situation, I'd be trying it left and ri-"

"Stop Jim, or I'll punch your teeth in." Leonard folded his arms over his/your chest suspiciously. "And how did you take our situation so calmly."

Jim waved it away like it was nothing. "The same thing has been going on all day. Our beaming equipment did something screwy last night and made some people switch bodies. All you have to do to get back to normal is stand on the beaming pad and look pretty. Scotty will handle the rest. Are you sure you don't want to wait a while? Try out some new things?"

In perfect sync, you and Leonard denied. Jim just shrugged his shoulder's and walked out of the room, waving at you to follow.

The walk was silent and awkward. You knew Jim was itching to ask more questions but he luckily kept his mouth shut, and you were so deep in thought, you didn't feel Leonard slip his hand into yours.

"Alrigh' you two, just stand still and wait for the magic ta happen. You'll be back ta yourself in no time. Oh, and ya might feel a wee tugging sensation in your brain but don't worry, it's completely safe."

Leonard's eyes widened and he looked at you then to Scotty who was pressing at buttons.

"What? 'Tugging sensation'? Safe my ass-"

The doctor was cut short as the warm familiar pull of the beaming light enveloped the two of you. Your vision went white for a second before your eyesight cleared back up.

Looking around wildly, you saw the real Leonard standing next to you, looking as angry as usual.

"See? Good as new." Jim approached you both with a smug smile on his face.

"Yeah, if you count emotionally scarred as new." Leonard growled at him.

"Emotionally scarred? What, did you see Y/n naked?"

Both you and Leonard turned red and Leonard ignored the question. Grabbing your hand, he quickly pushed Jim out of the way and led you out of the room.

"Piss off." He grumbled.

You only giggled and hugged his arm, which he responded by smirking and kissing your temple.

"You're really short darlin', ya know that?"

You gasped and let go of his arm, faking anger. "I'm not short, I'm fun sized for your information."

He chuckled and walked after you as you 'stomped' away with a smile on your face.

"Hey, I like fun sized. Easier to eat!"

#leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard horatio mccoy #leonard h mccoy #bones imagine #bones imagines #bones x reader #star trek reboot #star trek x reader #star trek reader insert #star trek #star trek imagine #star trek imagines

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animemangasoul · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Like This

Summery: Dazai has no sense of personal space and Tachihara is feeling confused and jealous.

Characters: Tachihara, Dazai & Gin

Or more precisely, it happens between Gin and that agency member Dazai Osamu.

Now, he knew Akutagawa was somehow obsessed with this man, but how the hell had this traitor somehow gotten his claws into Gin as well?

They are immediately on high alert. Back to back with guns and blades pointing outwards; protecting each other's flanks.

Tachihara was tense. Muscles taunt and a grimace of a shadow carving across his mouth.

It was times like these; when he couldn't predict an ambush or an attack that he almost instinctively defaulted to his ability.

'But I can't,' he told himself, eyes narrow and gaze searching. 'I can't let Gin find out.'

And speaking of Gin.

"At ease," came a cheerful voice from... above them? And sure enough, a shadow dropped down from the sky with all the grace of a wingless bird and crashed down in front of them.

"Ouch," the shadow said; voice muffled, an all Tachihara could do was blink in confusion and surprise.

"What?" He said, gun momentarily slacking.

"Sorry, sorry," the mistery figure hummed. "I was sure the fall would kill me, but hey" he shrugged. "What can you do."

At this point, Tachihara had pretty much guessed who the weirdo was and his gun; while not fully lowered, was looking much less threatening in his grip.

"Dazai Osamu," he said slowly, voice wholy unimpressed. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check in on my adorable little Gin," he exclaimed; eyes watering superficially.

"You're brother was worried and distracted throughout his mission so I came to check on you to give him a peace of mind!" All the while he was rubbing his cheek against the white mask covering half of Gin face, patting the man condescendingly atop of his head and swaying both their bodies back and forth.

Brother? Gin? What?

"What ar- are you seriou.... why are you even here?" Tachihara spluttered; red faced and annoyance driving him up the wall.

The simple fact of Dazai Osamu hugging Gin was making his stomach coil in disgust.

But his less than eloquent question only made the former port mafia member snort in amusement.

"I already told you," he said; nuzzling even closer to Gin and making Tachihara's heckles rise. "I came to make sure Gin was ok."

"Well he is," Tachihara snapped. Irriation coursing through his veins. "So leave."

Whatever he said most have amused Dazai greatly because the older male laughed loudly at his threatening tone and tucked his face into the crook of Gin's neck.

"Don't wanna," he muttered where he was hiding behind his partner's hair. "Gin is warm and soft. I like hugging him."

This had gone on long enough.

Fingers twitching at the trigger, itching to fire a shot into that smug bastard's face, Tachihara took a deep breath, then another, to calm his fraying nerves.

“Don't shoot your temporary ally," he muttered to himself. 'Do not shoot your temorary ally. Mori-sensei wouldn't be happy about it and if you get kicked out, the hunting do.... Do not shoot your temporary ally.'

In fact, his partner had all but put all of his knives way at this point, thin, lilt fingers reaching up slowly to card through the dark-brown tangled mess that was Dazai Osamu's hair.

The intruder sighed in content and snuggled even closer.

"Good to see you're doing well Gin," he muttered after a second of just staring down Tachihara with the most shit-eating grin Tachihara had ever seen. "Gotta go now~"

Tachihara turned beet red. Cheek flushes so bright he was afraid they would never dim down again.

What the... wh.... did he just... Gin -- how dare he just...

A light twinkle of a laughter escaped passed Gin right as he was about to lose it, and Tachihada froze in surprise.

Tachihara felt something in his chest crumble.

The action was all playful and fond, and looking closer none of it looked particularly sexual or romantic, but the fact that Gin was comfortable with Dazai to treat him in such fashion...

It made a sickening feeling lodge itself in his throat

Gin had never let his guard down around him like that.

"Take care of yourself Gin," he said; voice dipping low and taking on a tone Tachihara couldn't really place. "And keep and eye out for anything suspecious."

With that he waved at them both casually; fingers dancing dramatically through the air before he pranced off God knows where.

Leaving Gin looking fond and Tachihara feeling nauseated

#Dazai Osamu #tachihara michizou #bungou stray dogs #akutagawa gin #bsd #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd gin #bsd tachihara

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